A/N: Sorry about my not reviewing since, well I can't even remember. There is no excuse so I'm just going to tell you, I was writing other stuff in between this and 'Rose of Troy' got put on the backburner. I told you I would make twists in the story and so in this chapter they may or may not appear (being vague is so much fun). I'm kinda on a diet (my mom makes us all go on diets when she does, to deliver her from temptation or something, and as such I am on major carb withdrawal) so the creative juices may be running low (hahaha not funny) but I'll do what I can. As always lovin' your reviews so keep up the good work.
Chapter 11 – Endeavor of a Lady
"No Patroclus, that's the last time I'm going to say that. Next time you ask to fight I'll send you back to Greece." Achilles voice carried through the camp as he and his cousin strode towards the warlord's tent.
"I wasn't going to ask." The youth said as kindly as he could. "The Lady Briseis is in your tent, we arrived back this morning from the palace and you were with the other Kings so I left her in there."
"And...?" He asked eagerly prompting his cousin, his pace speeding noticeably.
"And what?" He replied genuinely mystified by his cousin's question.
"And what is she like? Beautiful? Irritable? Spirited? Gods I love it when they're spirited." He smiled in remembrance at other such 'spirited' girls.
Patroclus walked in silence for a moment, grimacing inwardly. "Maybe you should find out for yourself." He let Achilles enter the dwelling first and then followed. She was sitting with her long legs bent and her hands placed lightly on her ankles. The fallen noble's head rested beside her knee, looking away from the leather straps that made the door. Cascades of ebony hair ran down her back, her body rose and fell in a regular pattern; indicating her current state of sleep.
"Well she is a pretty creature." Achilles observed walking lightly over to her and touching her back softly.
"Thank you." Her clam voice startled Patroclus and caused the elder cousin to draw his hand away slowly as she arched her back and stretched her arms. "You must be Achilles, the slayer of innumerable sons of Troy." Her gaze was cold; it was an unmistakable look of distain.
He smiled as though she had complimented him. "And you Briseis, the Trojan flower." She smiled back but there was no warmth in her smirk. He touched her chin lightly. "A diamond among pebbles, Aphrodite walking among mortals, you truly are more beautiful than the stories say." Patroclus had seen this routine countless times; even the strongest of women could not resist the handsome warrior. It was despicable the way his cousin dealt with the female race; at the speed he whored he would never find a wife.
Then, however, she did something quite unexpected. "Stories about me? What do they say? I have done nothing in my life." A reserved smile played on her perfect lips. Her eyes danced with expectance at his reply.
Achilles remained uninfluenced by the unpredicted reaction. "They say many things; about you feeding children, housing orphans, giving food to the poor. Also tales of less commendable actions, your court life for example. Every time a merchant comes back from Troy you have been married to another man, or so the tales go." His blue eyes met hers. "You aren't wed I can assume."
"Would you care if I was?" She asked brazenly.
He shook his head still smiling. "And then there are stories of you and the Trojan Prince, of your being his-"
"Concubine, in case you have been wondering I'm no one's whore; least of all Hector's." She finished hatefully, looking, for a moment, implausibly naive. "Where do you people come up with these lies? If I had that much spare time I do not know what I would do with myself."
"If you don't mind me asking what do you do with your time? If not serving your prince?" His tone was obviously mocking her, daring her to reply with a bold remark.
"I have nine younger brothers; I've raised most of them. With that and the constant stream of problems everyone needs me to solve I have very little time to...read or write or talk with friends." She sighed expressively. "Although if I were to have all the time in the world to talk with the Ladies of the court I would probably be more of a gossip as-" She named a lady Patroclus had never heard of; he watched her with rapt attention, her words were those of a Lady but her tone seemed more appropriate for a street girl.
"Everyone says you had plenty of time to spend with the prince, or are those more lies?"
"Those are not lies," She snapped, strangely quieter than before. "Hector and I have forever been companions though never husband and wife, if there is a crime in friendship with royalty then I am glad I never married him."
Patroclus had to stifle a gasp; in all of the stories he had heard the youth had never listened to one of an almost-marriage to a prince. "Perhaps you would do well with some food." Achilles said, ignoring her statement prior.
She shook her graceful head, "Thank you but I have no desire for food." The warlord nodded once and stood to walk out of the tent with his cousin. Out of the corner of his eye Patroclus could see Briseis returning to her former position with her head falling lightly onto her knee, facing away from the makeshift door.
The sounds of the camp were quite the opposite from the stifling shadows of Achilles dwelling. "She was different than I expected." Achilles commented suddenly as they sat near a campfire. The younger of the two decided silence was the best response. "I was thinking more of a lioness, vying for escape." He looked into the horizon, "The men seem to be interested in her though." So he too had noticed the excess of soldiers passing by his tent, hoping to catch a glimpse of the 'wildcat noblewoman' as she had so been named.
"I wouldn't hand her over to them." He blurted quickly.
"I wasn't going to." Achilles glanced back towards where Briseis sat in the shelter. "I think she should come out here. She seemed very calm maybe seeing her surroundings would frighten her."
Patroclus knew his cousin's plan. Terrify her, make her cling to him and then make her his whore. It was sickening but most always worked. "If you want to you can try." Achilles grinned at him and disappeared behind the leather strips of the doorway and re-emerged moments later with Briseis behind him. She looked no more or less alarmed than before, this gladdened Patroclus; her actions so far had entertained the youth and he could only hope for more of the same.
She sat next to her captor as passing men stared at her as they walked. "I was telling my cousin you have seemed oddly composed during the past day, most prisoners are crying for release...or death."
"I think," She replied, her voice icy cold. "That soon you will find I am no ordinary woman, prisoner or not. And besides whether I am a captive behind the walls of Troy or outside them what does it matter?"
"Inside the walls of Troy?" A voice said from behind her. "You were a goddess inside the walls of Troy and now you expect to be treated different from any other whore. I suppose now you envy me." The voice was that of the Grecian spy, it would seem the King of Kings had chosen her to pleasure him. The traitorous woman was surrounded by guards. Her face was painted heavily and her servant's robes had been replaced with rich ones.
Briseis stood up serenely. "And be a whore to Agamemnon, I would rather die a thousand deaths."
"That can be arranged, oh great Briseis." He whispering voice was scornful.
Abruptly the former Lady smiled her tone lightening. "I see you have been given my cosmetics Mythena." She spoke the woman's name with no scorn or contempt, her intentions unclear to onlookers. "And I see you had never fully paid attention to when it was applied on me." Briseis said lightly, snatching a goblet of wine from a man nearby and throwing the contents into Mythena's face.
Agamemnon's whore stood for a moment and then burst out into shrieks of pain. The guards drew their swords but seemed unsure of what to do. "Because any Lady would know black ocher, when applied improperly or drenched with water, stings like nothing you have ever felt before." Her smile was as thin and cold as the blade of a knife; a man in the crowd laughed and was soon joined by others. Patroclus had to admit it was an amusing action but how would Agamemnon react, he would no doubt not want his woman to be offended.
"You've blinded me." The woman shrieked reaching sightlessly for Briseis neck.
She moved away from the woman effortlessly, smiling with malice glistening in her blue eyes. "No I haven't, the pain will disperse in a moment or two and you'll be able to see again."
"And maybe we should disappear before then." Achilles murmured to her and pulled her off to his tent. As Patroclus watched them off he decided that even Achilles, who had the prowess of seduction among the ranks of women, might have trouble charming a woman like Briseis.
"Are you sleeping?" Achilles asked his captive, she was obviously mistrustful of him; she must be to not even go near the bed that he lay in. She sat at the edge of the tent; he knew the answer to his question before she replied. There was sadness in the way she stared out at the sands; her dark head was tilted slightly and her lips were curved upwards, were it not for the look in her eyes he would have thought she looked no different than when she did at any other moment. This was a look of sheer desperation and sorrow, he had seen it in captives before; it was the expression slave girls had when they first realized that they were there only to warm his bed, only to be his woman.
'And I thought you were more intelligent than that.' He thought as he rose from the between the sheets and dressed in a nearby tunic. 'And I really was excited to have a bright girl this time.'
She was unmoved as he walked to stand beside her, "You seem unhappy." He commented, kneeling and touching her cheekbone lightly. He removed his hand as she tossed her waves of ebony hair behind her shoulder and clutched her knees to her chest.
Achilles now had an unparalleled view of the noblewoman's body. He was sure it was quite unintentional but could not keep his roving eye from making its way down from her face to her smooth neck and into the curve of her ample breasts. He knew that without her consent, making love to her would not have its full benefit; it never did with women like Briseis but even without her approval he could imagine about what it would be to feel her body against his.
"I am unhappy," She jerked him from his trance. "Because of you." She finished, looking with hollow expression into his eyes. He could not help but be angry and she evidently saw it and for a moment she laughed. "Well not really because of you. Because of this place, because of the memories, because of...everything." She sighed haplessly, and rested her chin in her palms. The desolation seemed to dominate her body; he was helpless to what to do, understanding a woman was Patroclus strength.
"Being a slave would make anyone unhappy." He said quietly, waiting for her response in silence. He placed his hands on her skin; it was as cold as the ice in her voice.
She shook her head. "It isn't being a slave that makes me miserable, well it isn't just that. This was where my parents were killed; do the stories about me say that? This is where I had to give up my life because I needed to raise my kin. I gave them my life and I loved them like no other could. " She sighed. "And now I will never see them again."
He was at a loss, the stories never said she had raised her brothers or that her parents had been killed on he beaches of Troy. Only of her extraordinary beauty and escapades with various men of the court, which he now found were lies. He had demanded she be brought to him because he thought he knew the story of her life and now he realized how very little he knew about her.
"Briseis," She seemed startled at the mention of her name, "You should sleep, the night is young." She smiled mirthlessly.
"So you do not know." How much more could he possibly not know about her? "The night is always young for me, I rarely sleep there's no reason for me to. My body knows it needs rest but never in all of my years have I slept the entire night in a bed," She turned back to look at the sea. "Nevertheless a bed with you."
Her words were venomous; from any other woman he probably would have given her to the myrmidons to pleasure themselves with her body. The look in her eyes was constantly daring him to do such an act, to teach her the proper place for a slave. Such a fiery personality in whores was not usually a valued trait, he liked his harlots energetic not insulting.
He turned her head forcefully to look her in the eyes as he spoke. "Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm not asking you to share a bed with me."
"You're demanding it?" She asked teasingly, her eyes danced; this was possibly the strangest slave girl he had ever met. She threw wine in others faces, spoke back to her master, did not accept food or a bed. And she was a mystery he intended to unravel.
"I'm demanding it." He said, raising his eyebrows as though daring her to refuse his command. "And I give you my word I will not a lay a hand on you...unless you wish me to."
She smiled and rose to her feet, shaking her head. "I don't." He led her over to the bed and they both stood, statuesque and silent. "How can I be sure you make good on your promise?"
He laughed at her distrust, "There are two sheets," He paused, waiting for her to pick up on his implications.
"I can see that."
"You may sleep under both and I will sleep only under one." She considered it in her mind, trying to find a fault in his plan.
After a moment of more silence she nodded and walked to the opposite side of the bed. "So you give me your word you will not touch me and then you watch me undress. That hardly seems like the chivalry expressed moments ago." She batted her eyelashes in the way only a Lady could.
He laughed, "You make a good point." He turned away from her silhouette, and when he heard her enter the bed he turned and shed the tunic he wore.
"Sleep well, brave Achilles." She said, her voice bordering between mirth and spite.
'Yes,' He thought, lying next to the elegant beauty. He would discover the secrets of this riddle of a woman.
"There is one question I've always wanted to ask you." Patroclus sat beside the noblewoman; Achilles had gone to fight the Trojans and left Briseis with his cousin who, once again, had been left behind.
"And that is?" She threw a grape into the air and caught it in her mouth.
"How did you do that?" He sat, stupefied by the feat.
"That is your question?" She laughed and did it again. "It's simple really I learned when I was eight, strangely enough the same year I learned that men weren't impressed by little girls that didn't care about how their hair looked, constantly." She rolled her eyes.
When Achilles had brought her to Patroclus' tent he had warned his cousin that Briseis might have frequent changes of mood but so far she had only been kind and gracious. It almost made him laugh to think what she had done to his cousin to make the warlord give such a mistrustful warning. The mustiness in the leather dwelling had mad them retreat outside where a few other men sat, watching her but never coming near. If she noticed this she did not say anything to Patroclus
"No my question, why did you never marry? You were always spoken of as the most beautiful woman in the east, why did no one wed you at first sight?" She paused for a moment as though recalling memories and sorting her thoughts.
"Would you have married me at first glance?" She asked serenely, he shrugged. "Exactly, men were captured by my beauty and repelled by my character. They wanted girls who never spoke back, who never gave advice, who never stepped outside of the walls of the palace or villa or estate unless they were told to do so. I was never that girl."
"How could people be repelled by you? You're amazing." The veiled compliment made her smile but the, evidentially painful, memories made the woman's slender shoulders drop.
She drew circles in the sand under her. "When I was young my mother told me a woman's place was beneath a man. They were to serve their husband in every way possible to make them as happy like no other woman could. For a man to take a concubine was a shame to the mistress of the house. My father was a good man; he loved my mother with all of his being, he never even looked at another woman. My father also taught me everything I know, about the Gods, about men, about women, about the life I would live. But when I became of marriageable age I was more interested in learning about how people's minds thought than about living my life behind those people. I wanted to ride horses and attend feasts and be blissful. I didn't care about dresses and singing and weaving and playing the lyre. I spent my time near Hector and my brothers, I spoke like them, I acted like them, I was one of them, and…"
"...And any suitors you had didn't want a wife that acted like a man." He finished for her, as she seemed incapable of it.
"Correct, but while I was with them I learned the three most important things in life." Patroclus cocked his head, encouraging her to go on. "First, your real friends could care less if you can weave or not. Secondly, insulting kings never ends well. And most importantly never assume that it is too late to call back old favors, people will almost always try to remain respectable by repaying past acts of kindness."
"And what acts of kindness have you paid?" A gruff man's voice came from nearby the two his tone overflowing with insinuation. "Is it a system of the highest bidder or the best looking?" The soldier walked over, grabbed amounts of her black hair and pulled Briseis to her feet, the camp was suddenly silent. She did not even wince at the pain but stared the man in the eyes with a look of unmixed hatred.
"Neither of which you would win for." She said, her insult resounding through the soundless camp. He threw her to the sands; to Patroclus' surprise she did not rise and strike him.
"Get up whore." The man shouted.
The man was large but the youth would rather risk his wrath than that of Achilles. "Don't speak to her like that. It is something no woman deserves."
"She isn't yours." The voice came from an unknown host in the crowd of soldiers.
"But I doubt her owner would want her treated as such." The unmistakable cool tone of Odysseus cut through the mass of Greeks. Briseis still lay on the beach, her movements had ceased and Patroclus was unfathomably worried. If he was responsible for the death of a Trojan noblewoman...nevertheless the Trojan noblewoman Achilles had chosen, he might as well be saving his cousin the trouble and walking into the sea this moment. "The army has returned, I suggest you all find your camps again." It was not a suggestion it was an insistence, the type Odysseus excelled at.
The Ithacan King knelt to see closer the woman who he had defended. "You must be Briseis." He said as she began to stir, supporting herself on her hands.
"I must be mustn't I?" She ran a hand through her glittering hair. "And you are...?" She took the King's outstretched hand to steady herself and she sat down beside Patroclus once more.
"I am Odysseus, King of Ithaca. You are not hurt from what that man did to you I assume."
She shook her head. "These moments always pass," She clutched her head in pain. "I'm fine, really." Odysseus stayed with them, talking with the two about everyday topics, to keep other possible attackers at bay. "Wait," Briseis cut into the polite conversation. "This is simply a question, no intention behind it. But why do men take whores? It is just a question." She saw the surprise look on both of their faces and laughed.
The foreign King answered, as the youth was clueless in every respect. "Men take women that they have no intent of marrying for many reasons; if I said I knew all of them I would be lying to you." She raised her eyebrows at his indirect response. "The most common is lust, pure and simple." Her body tensed at this response. "But others could be the need to prove themselves, dominating other persons can be gratifying to some men. Or perhaps a woman could be taken out of loneliness; the passing of a loved one is hard on anyone, the company of a woman can often hasten that period of grief."
Briseis' eyes grew wide. "Wonderful." She said calmly. Patroclus sat in silence for a moment.
"Wait what is so wonderful about that?" She opened her mouth but he continued. "I was expecting you to be crying by now."
"You are young," She smiled warmly at him, indeed more warmly than she had ever smiled at Achilles. "I did not mean it was actually wonderful. I just say it when things are..." She sighed and smiled at him again. "Someday you will know you are still very young."
A/N: I'm assuming Patroclus is about 17-18 and as one usually grouped as being young I know how infuriating it is to be called an infantile (even if it is a compliment (wait especially if it's a compliment, creepy)). Anyways, I'm having fun with this story, now that the beginning is done. Keep doing what your doing and I'll keep doing...what...Um...I don't know. Just read the story and all that jazz.