Chapter 10 – Sleep And Life

If there were any a time to thank the Gods, this is it.

Being inside a giant wooden horse would not be ideal on the best of days, but if we had been confined on one of the hotter days of summer it would have been unbearable. Tonight it is slightly cooler, and my mind is clear enough to think back over the last twelve moons. I have accepted now that tonight is my final night, and I know that as long as I see Briseis and Theo one last time, I will die happy.

Months passed. Briseis was second in attention only to Agamemnon – she was carrying Achilles' child, and needed to be looked after. No one knew huge amounts about how to care for her, but as long as her belly kept growing and the baby kept moving, we took it mean that she was fine. We were both relaxed, assured that when the time came we would know what to do.

Then one night she woke me, crying and screaming that her stomach felt as if it were being torn in half. I asked Eudorus to run down the beach and fetch one of Ajax's men whose wife was a nurse, and some of the Myrmidons prepared to sail for Lemnos for help, but it would take a day at least. We did think of taking her to Troy, just for the birth, but there was no guarantee she would ever come back. So we stayed and prayed to Hera. And we waited.

I wasn't sure where I should be or what I should do. Briseis and I both knew that a man's place is not by a woman's side during the birth, but it killed me to see her in so much pain. And the rules are different during a war – back in Greece or even inside those walls I wouldn't have to worry, but here anything could happen. So I held Briseis' hand, made the tent as clean as I could, and I waited.

It seemed to be days, long weary days, before the Ajax's man, Philemon, looked up at Briseis and said, "Are you ready?"

Just minutes later he was there; the tiny, screaming, red and sticky ball, who Philemon wrapped in a towel and handed to Briseis. Theodosius, of Greece and Troy. "God given", our moment of peace in the hell of war.

Our son.

Most of the men are sleeping now, in preparation for tonight's battle. I cannot. It is still light outside, and shafts of sun beam through the tiny gaps in the exterior of the horse. I can see and hear the Trojans, celebrating their victory. A bittersweet victory, if there ever was one. I keep trying to see if Briseis is there. Almost hopeless, I know, with so many people all moving and dancing at once, but I thought I saw her earlier, on a higher platform, looking down. She carried a bundle in her arms – Theo – but she didn't stay long. If it was her, she didn't return.

I wonder if she thinks I've left. I wonder if she went back to her room out of sadness. And then, for the first time, I wonder if she's been thinking about me at all. It's entirely possible she's been so caught up in her life back in Troy that she's forgotten all about me, or erased me from her memory on purpose.

But no, I'm sure I meant more to her than that. I'm sure.

Briseis spent another hour or two awake, feeding Theo, and just holding him close. "I can't believe he's here," she kept repeating. "I can't believe he's ours." Her smile was like I'd never seen it before: so full of life, even more so than usual, that she seemed to radiate light.

By late afternoon she started to tire, so she handed the care of Theo over to me while she slept. I knew nothing about caring for babies, but in all my life I had never felt the same way about anyone or anything. I was totally in love with him, yet in a different way to his mother. He was tiny, and felt fragile enough to snap. When he opened his eyes, both they and his entire face filled with inquisitive wonder, and when they closed, the lids fluttered in time with his miniature chest rising up and down, up and down.

After waking once to feed him, Briseis slept almost through the night. We assumed that she was just regaining her strength after her ordeal, and were happy to let her do so, but Theo had other ideas.

"My lord," Eudorus said, emerging from the tent, so hesitantly that I knew something was wrong. I had sent him inside to wake Briseis while I tried to quieten Theo; it had been hours since he was last fed. "My lady… she is sick."

I raced inside, placing Theo down on a blanket in the corner before running to Briseis. Eudorus was right: her forehead was hot and clammy, and she writhed about like she was possessed, but her eyes stayed closed. Theo screamed louder from the corner. I ran outside, when a group of men had gathered, seemingly awaiting news, or orders.

"Eudorus." I pulled him aside. "Fetch Odysseus and find some milk. Any kind, just something for him to drink. And find a doctor. Quickly."

"Yes, my lord." Eudorus ran down the beach, leaving me to stop and think the situation through. Odysseus would know what to do. He had a son, and he possessed intelligence. And scraps I might have had had disappeared, I was so panicked. Everyone had heard about the sweating sickness some women received after birth, and everyone had seen the orphaned babies. But surely, the doctor would make Briseis better, and we could be a family again.

An hour later not much had changed. Odysseus had fashioned a teat for Theo and fed him the milk while I sat with Briseis. At least now, even if he wasn't sleeping, he was quiet, disturbing his mother less. She, in turn, was not better. The doctor told us that she was not the first person to be infected and the camp supplies had gone, so we would just have to pray to the Gods to give her strength, and her body would heal itself. If not…

I couldn't help but feel partly responsible. If I had made the tent cleaner, would Briseis be this ill? Would Theo be without a mother for another night of his life? I didn't know for sure, but soon enough guilt and tiredness engulfed me and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

I woke to find the tent empty. At first I took it as one of Briseis' night time strolls by the water, but then the new situation registered. Had her condition worsened so much that she had been taken somewhere? And where was Theo? He couldn't have been fed in hours.

I ran outside, hoping against hope that she was sitting on the sand, holding Theo to her breast, but there was nothing. Nothing. Only the gently rhythmic lapping of the waves. But wait, I stopped myself from waking any of the men. That's Theo. A far off but insistent cry, coming from somewhere further inland. I ran. Out of the darkness emerged a familiar figure, stumbling towards Troy. Briseis, carrying a screaming Theo, his head lolling on her shoulder.

I stopped just in front of her, pausing just to see if she looked more well than she had. But if anything, it was worse; her hair was matted for lack of brushing, her eyes were shot red and beads of perspiration had formed on her forehead. I took a deep breath in and stopped her walking.

"Briseis?" I said gently. "Briseis, it's me. It's Achilles."

Briseis' face showed no trace of recognition for a few moments, but then she remembered and smiled. "Achilles! My love, I'm just going to visit Paris and Hector. They'll want to see their baby cousin, and he can play with little Astyanax." Her speech was slow and slurred; if I didn't know she was delirious, I would just say she'd had too much to drink, but this was much more serious. I placed one hand on her shoulder and another on Theo's back, to steady her and to support his neck.

"Briseis, can Theo have a drink first?" I coaxed. "Why don't we give him a drink and then we'll take him to see your cousins, yes?"

She looked puzzled for a moment, before smiling and nodding. In the quickest time possible I took our son from her, still screaming, sat her down and handed him back after slipping one side of her robe over her shoulder, careful to always keep one hand under his head. He suckled and silenced. A while later, when he had finished, I took him back and rested him in the crook of one arm; it never failed to astonish me that he was so tiny that he rested in the curve of my elbow. With the other hand I helped to pull Briseis up and pointed to the camp. "Troy is that way. Do you think you can get there?"

By the time we reached the tent our baby was sleeping deeply next to my chest, and she was exhausted. She collapsed onto the bed and didn't wake until the next day. But it was then, as I watched her eyes move beneath her lids, and felt Theo's chest move up and down, that I felt this intense responsibility for them both. Like I would go to Hades and back just to save them. But it didn't scare me, not one bit.

Over the next nights Briseis' sleep became less fitful, and Theo grew stronger. Nevertheless, I still felt a huge protectiveness for them both. Which is why I know, if I am to do one thing before I die, it will be to find them.

And get them out.