According to Greek mythology when Patroclus was a young boy he accidentally killed his friend Clysonymus during an argument. So, I decided to borrow this character. He isn't really friends with Patroclus in my story, more like a close friend of his parents and best friend to Achilles. Sorry for screwing up what the Greeks wrote, but didn't the movie do that already? Hehe. Hope you like Chapter 4! Let me know what you think!

Chapter Four – Clysonymus

The next morning Patroclus awoke with a start and sat up quickly. He rubbed his eyes getting rid of the sleep and tiredness and stretched leisurely across the furs. He could hear voices coming from the other room and stood up smoothing out his tunic. Approaching the door he recognized the voice, but couldn't put a face to the noise. Then Achilles' voice took over the conversation and the men laughed heartily. Patroclus walked up to the two men who were smiling and snacking on red grapes. The smile faded from the stranger's face when the boy materialized in front of his eyes. Achilles turned round at his friend's unusual gaze.

"Patroclus. Did you sleep well?"

The teenager nodded, but didn't take his eyes off his cousin's friend. Their eyes were locked in battle. He knew this man. He had seen him dining with his father before when he was younger.

Achilles looked between the two and cleared his throat, placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

"This is Clysonymus. He was good friends with your father."

"Meneotius was a good man. I'm sorry to hear he died."

"Murdered." Patroclus almost growled. He couldn't quite place the uneasy feeling that circled round his stomach. His whole body shuddered. Clysonymus nodded apologetically and looked away at the younger man's heated glare. He picked a grape and chewed it noisily. Achilles frowned, mystified at his cousin's peculiar behavior. Maybe he wasn't a morning person. He opened his mouth to make a joke about teenagers and early mornings, but before he could, his cousin had spoken.

"I will go wash." Patroclus turned slowly, giving Achilles a quick glance and returned to the bedroom leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.

"He is missing them horribly." Achilles explained quietly. "He was very close with his parents my mother tells me."

"It is a sin that a boy so young should endure such a loss." Clysonymus stated lowly and wetted his lips with his tongue.

The men were left thinking over each of their own loses until Achilles snapped out of his gaze.

"Come. Let's go rid ourselves of these upsetting thoughts." Achilles grabbed a sword and grinned mischievously.

"I shall take it easy on you this time, Clysonymus."

"Ah, my friend you just got lucky last time."

Achilles snorted rudely and held the blade at his friend's throat. Clysonymus didn't even flinch.

"You could never cut such a fine head from an even finer body."

"I'm surprised such a scrawny frame could carry such a massive head." Achilles retorted removing the blade. Clysonymus laughed, shaking his head and went to saddle his horse.

Patroclus sat down heavily. Adrenaline pumped through his body and he opened his palms to find his short finger nails had pinched the tender skin white. Why was he so consumed in anger when he thought of his father's friend? He just made himself confused and frustrated and through himself back on the fur with an exasperated sigh.

"I am going to the field to spar with Clysonymus for a little while. Mother is down at the lake. She'll probably be there all day. Would you like to come watch me humiliate the idiot?" Achilles raised his eye-brows with a smirk. Patroclus stared back at him expressionless.

"I will come watch you in a while."

"As you wish, cousin, but come soon, Clysonymus is easily defeated." He laughed and dashed out. Patroclus lifted himself on to two elbows and rolled off the bed to his feet. He grabbed a cloth that was lying in a tub of warm water and scrubbed his face. Pulling off his tunic he squeezed the cloth to let the excess water run down his back. He grabbed some soap and rubbed it between his hands and ran them over his upper body. After rinsing himself he stepped out the back and let himself dry in the morning sun. He thought about his cousin fighting Clysonymus. His father had taught him how to use a bow and arrow when he was twelve, but he had never been in a situation to use such a weapon and he couldn't even remember picking up a sword before.

As the water droplets evaporated off his skin he thought about just how useless he really was. He had been out with friends when his parents had been stabbed and left to bleed to death, but really if his own father couldn't defend himself what could he have done? Shoot blunt arrows at them? He scuffed the ground, ashamed of his lack of skill with any kind of weapon. What kind of man would he turn out to be if he couldn't defend his family and fight for his country? In the distance he could see the quick, talented movements of his cousin as he slammed his sword down on Clysonymus' shield. He watched him kick out his legs and hold the sword pointed to the man's throat. Then Achilles helped him to his feet and they began again, dancing round rocks and trees, both trying to outsmart and surprise each other.

Folding his arms across his chest Patroclus decided he wasn't going to feel sorry for himself any longer. He had cried enough. Now it was time to regain his family's honor and take revenge. He didn't want to watch Achilles fight, he wanted to learn. He wanted to learn how to throw a spear and pierce a man's head from two hundred yards, he wanted to learn how to behead the enemy and crack their shields with one fatal blow. He would learn all that and more and then one day he really would have the blood of his parents' murderer on his hands and reclaim his self-worth and parents' love and belief.