Chapter Nine – Blessings & Gifts

Ten days since my cousin's death and the funeral games would end before the next three were out. The heat had died down a little and the breeze had picked up. The hours seemed more bearable.

I had neither seen, heard from nor attempted to make contact with Andromache since she found me in the laundry room with Theo and later left, slowly and calmly, but with a flood of tears in her eyes. It was not that I was scared of what she would think – I already knew – but that I did not want to remind her again of the day Hector was taken from her. I loved her too much to hurt her any more.

Helen had been with me, but her manner had changed considerably. She no longer smiled in the same way, and when she came to see me it was because something needed doing, or she wanted me to fetch something, not because she wanted to see me. She did not hold Theo anymore.

All the time I carried Theo I did not once think I would be judged like this. I hardly expected to return to Troy at all, but I did not expect to be rejected by one person I loved like a sister and another I could have grown to. Not once.

We lay facing each other, neither of us wanting to sleep but perfectly content to just look at the other. My arms curled up into my chest; one of his arms draped protectively over me. I was still dizzy from the events of just minutes before, but I knew if I didn't find the courage to tell him now, I never would. I just didn't know how.

"Am I still your captive?" I asked Achilles, covering my bottom lip with my top.

"You're my guest." Achilles replied, with that heroic self-confidence he always carried.

I shifted my weight. It was this time of night, after we made perfect, bittersweet love, that I felt closest to him. At that time, as we lay next to each other, it was as if all his defences had been left with his clothes on the floor; he was open with me, I was open with him.

"In Troy, guests can leave whenever they want."

"You should leave then."

He knew I wouldn't, more certainly than I did. He knew that I couldn't survive without him – couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't inhale – long before I did. But only I knew why I wouldn't leave that night.

Our mouths were still inches apart from where we'd rested when we settled. I could feel his warm breath on my lips. He truly was a hero. He looked like a hero, fought like one, spoke like one. In some way that I never quite grasped he even loved like a hero. I needed him, however, to be able to be more than that.

"Would you leave this all behind?"

The trace of a smile passed Achilles' mouth.

"Would you leave Troy?"

I knew I had to tell him now, or I never would. Bringing my arm up to rest on his shoulder, I breathed in, leant in, and placed a kiss on his lips. He, in return, looked at me, puzzled.

"There is something troubling you. What is it?"

"How much do you know of women?"

"I know that they often avoid answering a question by posing another." My lover laughed.

"I haven't had the curse for almost three moons."

I watched the smile leave Achilles' face, and be replaced by a question: furrowed brow and head tilted forward. I let my eyes and my expression speak for me.

There was no argument, he didn't tell me to leave. Instead the smile returned and his soft lips leant in to kiss mine. I had my response.

Now that the heat had become less stifling, it was more bearable to take a walk in the palace gardens. Food may be scarce now, but the plants were still watered and the lawns kept tidy. I decided it would be better for both me and Theo to spend time outside than cooped up indoors, so on my eleventh day back in the city I took him to the garden just below my window. I had hoped for a quiet time, when I could relax and think – about what and who I cared not to admit even to myself – but I was not so lucky.

"Typical Trojans. Their city is about to perish and yet they still find time to keep the gardens presentable." A voice said behind me.

I twisted my neck to see who, and laughed in surprise. Cassandra, daughter of Priam and sister of Hector and Paris, did not venture outside much, instead preferring her own company, but today she had seemingly been struck with the same idea as me.

"Perish?" I questioned, shifting the dead weight of Theo's sleeping body.

I know you don't believe me, Briseis. You think what I see is just the dreaming of a madwoman." It was true. So few people, if any, believed what Cassandra said about the demise of Troy. "But I see it, as clear as you see me now. I see screaming, and burning, and death." Her voice drifted off and her eyes glazed over; when she returned to consciousness they were full of fear.

"Briseis, my dear cousin," she whispered, gripping my arm urgently. "Get out, leave tonight while you still can. Please, Briseis. Take Theo and go."

I smiled uneasily, trying to humour her. I wouldn't leave. There were no arguments for it; if the Greeks had not broken our walls by now they never would, Achilles said as much himself, and if I left, the chance of our family being reunited were even slimmer. Besides, everybody in Troy knew that Cassandra was not in her right mind.

Three days passed after I told Achilles my news, and he was so proud to be becoming a father. He told everyone – I suppose it just confirmed his hero status. I didn't want to think about all the other women who could have done the same thing, if he'd stayed longer than a night. But after five days, he still believed we could be a real family, even in the middle of a war. It was only after eight days that the full enormity of the situation struck him.

I had argued with him the day before, saying I didn't want the whole army to know when there was still so much to go wrong. I had reminded him that there was no guarantee of a healthy baby or a baby at all, living in the camp. So I entered the tent the next day to find him gathering together my few belongings, smiling sadly. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to Lemnos. It's not too far away, and they can care for you there. It's like you said: there's so much danger here."

I cut him off firmly. "I won't go."

"Briseis." Achilles sighed and smiled. "I want you to be safe, especially now." He rested one hand on my stomach and one round my back. "I just want you to be safe."

I moved closer and nestled my head beneath his chin, draping my arm around his neck. Over the last few days I'd realised why I couldn't go through with killing him those months before – I was in love with him.

I smiled and whispered, "I already am."

Whispers of the gift reached the palace a few hours before midday on the last day of Hector's funeral games. I heard two maids talking about it as they passed my room, while I tried to settle Theo. Over his screams I mead out, "horse," "by the gate," "Greeks have gone home." Before the last comment I wasn't too concerned, but if the Greeks had gone…

I travelled as fast as I could towards the Skaian gate, hoping against hope that it wasn't true. Or if it wasn't, that one particular Greek had stayed behind. The motion seemed to calm Theo and he quietened down. Please, please, please, as I rounded the last corner.

But there it was. Taller than three or four Trojans, and as long as it was tall. There was already a large crowd around it, cheering and dancing, but I wasn't in the mood for celebration. Achilles has gone.

The number of days I lay in Achilles' tent on my back, not able to summon the strength or willpower to move, grew too numerous to count. But one remains fresh in my mind.

It was a cold day, near midwinter. Achilles had gone to talk with Odysseus, so I was left alone with my – now growing – belly. I was just drifting off into a light sleep, but something jolted me awake. I couldn't be sure what it was, so I lay still for a few moments in case it happened again.

It did. A small, insistent pushing from inside, like a kicking, the tiny human inside me kicking to get out. Just when it was starting to get unbearable, Achilles entered the tent. "Ah, the politics of war. Agamemnon is saying–"

I held up a hand, motioning for my lover to stop talking. The kicking had stopped. Then as soon as my belly realised his father has stopped talking, it began again.

I beckoned for Achilles to continue talking, which he did, despite looking more than confused, and sit down on the mat, where I moved his hand to my stomach just before the movement once again ceased. Achilles looked up at me and smiled, with an expression on his face, full or awe and amazement and love. It still appears to me every night, when I close my eyes and sink deep into sleep.

Evening fell and princes and servants alike drifted back to the palace, their minds made drowsy by the drink. That night thay slep soundly, unaware of the horror that came just hours after. I, however, couldn't settle. And it probably saved us.