Chapter 6: The Chosen Side
"You stay and watch over the ship. This is not the time for you to fight." Patroclus opened his mouth, then shut it. Frustrated and dissatisfied beyond belief, he threw the spear brutally off to the side and shook the shield off his arm. He stalked to the latched door that led below deck, and didn't look back as he slammed it shut following him. Achilles didn't show a sign of mercy or remorse. I took my leave and walked to a spot on the ship where I could look out and not be troubled by the sights that flew up to me.
Troy grew larger and larger, till I could stand it no longer. I was torn by thoughts, memories and new feelings. Where would I go after I brought back Achilles' man's sword? I yearned to stay with the Myrmidons; I was safe, by order of Achilles. I could picture his face, the beauty stares back at me, the hard wood creaks on either side of me as the water pulls me closer to the shores. His face, soft, surprised and fully aware of my presence to an extent, all of these memories flash into my head. I could feel his touch, the gentle sweep of his arm around me. I wanted him, he wanted me. And yet, we had to stay away from each other, to save ourselves from a painful death. If Hector catches me… I'll be killed, tortured, banished from Troy forever. I stuck up my pride. Then so be it, I thought and rushed down to the door that led below deck. I climbed down the slimy, creaking wooden steps. The wood, soften from water and old age, groaned under my feet. My eyes absorbed the sunlight, then adjusted to the darkness. I looked around, found the bundle of my blanket, and cloak. I quickly rushed to the clothes, throwing away the blanket and tossing the cloak aside. I panicked, the dagger was gone. Terrified, I scanned around the place where the clothes had been. Cold metal tapped my shoulder. I spun around, his now anger filled blue eyes softened as he handed me my dagger. I looked with thankfulness at the dagger, slipping it back into the loop around my belt. Patroclus smiled, pleased I was happy once more.
"I didn't want anyone to take it from you if they caught you. A dagger like that must mean something to you," he said. I nodded, still not looking at his face. When I did, my stomach knotted with trembling feelings. I melted, throwing my arms around his shoulders. He didn't stiffen, but moments passed before he slipped his arms round my waist. The hug lasted more than I wanted it to, I knew Troy was approaching. I pulled away, he tugged me back, then let go. "Whose was it? The dagger?" he sought to know. I felt his fingers trail up my arm.
"It was my brother's," I whispered, barely able to get the words out. His other hand went closer to my back, till he scraped the new scar that entered its way into my flesh. I winced, drawing back. Patroclus whispered his apologizes. "He gave it to me when he said that I was the warrior, not he," I finished. Once again I felt his hand along my back, the other traveled to my cheek, caressing it softly. "One day, when we meet again, I will tell you the whole story, I promise." His eyes grew wide, I brushed away a lock of blond hair from his eyes. The antagonism reappeared, the irritation and fury he didn't want to place on me, but rather his cousin when given the chance.
"I don't want to say goodbye and then wait to meet you again. You entrance me, I can't explain it. I've only seen you for fleeting moments. Stay with me," he protested. Tears welled up in my eyes, I blinked them away. No, I had never felt this way with a man before. As if that was the farewell, he dropped his hands and let me go about my way back up to the deck. I grabbed my cloak, tying it around my neck. As I ascended the stairs, I looked once more to Patroclus, he let go of his rage to show his twinkling eyes once more. I pulled on the hood and reentered sunlight. As if the men had known for ages, they didn't turn when I stepped lightly around and through them, used to my presence, or ignoring me with suppressed fury. The clouds hid the sun for a split second, then beamed down on me once more. Achilles had placed on the rest of his black armor, the same with most of the men coming with him. He saw my face from beneath the hood and heaved a sigh.
"When you bring me the sword, the best thing for you to do is return to Troy, and reclaim your position," he advised. Wind blew back the hood, revealing my expressionless face, yet Achilles seemed to know the words spoken between Patroclus and me. I forgot about the hood and looked up at him. Twenty feet to go till we hit land. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to rush back below deck, throw my arms around him and never let go. But then I would lose all the chances of seeing him after, here I still had waiting moments. Ten feet. My body grew tense as I looked at the sharp logs and poised men. Courage was needed at the moment.
"I could, but then if I came back you wouldn't trust me, because I could once again be a spy for Troy," I retorted with. Achilles gestured a smile of amusement, for then he jumped from his fleet. The ship sunk into sand, and the men jumped off with me. The land made my stomach lurch, the waves now missing, but I continued to run. While Achilles and his men occupied the Trojans, attacking them violently and with great force, I ran behind them and up the sandy hill. The sand soon became frequent as I came upon hard ground, my feet now used to the steadiness, I ran at the top speed I could muster. I heard thick footsteps form behind. I pulled out my dagger and swung at the air as I spun around. But the man was a Myrmidon, following to make sure I got to the wall. I made a face, Achilles need not give me help, and I knew the way around the city. I stopped and the man stopped too, breathing hard. I pointed with my knife to the battle that now raged behind us.
"Go back and fight, I need none of your help!" I yelled. The man seemed startled, but reluctantly drew back to his commander's battle. I trudged my way up the hill, thinking of the best way to get in. I looked up at the wall, there were guards stationed at every crevasse within the stone. They all held up bows and had already nocked arrows. I began searching for a new way. I glanced at the secret entrance only few men knew. It was guarded already. I could see the man's face through the small hole in the wall that let in only those who knew passwords or who had royalty weighed upon their chests. I was considered close enough as the courtier to Briseis. I dodged a sudden flying arrow, and then continued my way on. The pounding of horses' hooves made me spin around in surprise and alertness. The huge doors of Troy opened to allow the Prince Hector and his men through to the battle on the beach. I ran to him, not believing my luck. The man riding next to him saw me, the dagger in hand and began lifting his spear. Then Hector's eyes befell on me. He was awed at my presence, his hand shot out to stop the man. The man was appalled at Hector's actions, but listened to his lord's wishes. Hector flew up to me, I hadn't noticed tears from the wind and the thought of Patroclus had sprung to my eyes.
"Did they hurt you?" he demanded. I stared up at him in confusion, and then shook my head. I would play by his rules.
"No my lord, Achilles…" I hesitated, thinking of the freedom that Achilles had easily and willingly granted me. "Achilles took me hostage, but I escaped when he jumped from the ship to attack the beach." I added a moment of loyalty to my Prince. "My lord you must stop him!" At that instant I heard a spear whiz through the air. I spun around; the spear missed me by an only a tiny extent, and then sunk into the man riding next to Hector. The dead man toppled over his horse, red hair mixing with the blood the leaked from his chest. Hector looked to his man, then gazed up with fuming and mad eyes to the man who dared kill his right hand man, almost me and him. It was Achilles himself, his body glistened with sweat, his chest heaving and his armor and weapon sprinkled with other's blood. Hector hissed something at me, but I couldn't hear it as he kicked his horse into gallop, the men following close behind in a cloud of dust. Knowing I had precious time now, I ran to the doors. The man glared at me, refused to open the large doors but rather the small one to the side. I slipped under the man's outstretched hand that held the door and breathed back the air of Troy. The city was amuck with men and woman rushing to their homes, grabbing their belongings from the market and hiding in their stone fortresses. I pitied them, yet envied them as well. They were safe from the blood and gore, yet would receive the biggest blow from the Greeks. I sprinted down the road and entered another section of the now vacant market place. There were stands of clothes, food and trading opportunities from other counties.
I scanned each stand quickly as I jogged past them, on my way down the maze of a city to the blacksmith. I spied a stand with soft fabric, and picking through it quickly found a light green chiton to replace the one I had lost in Menelaus' court. I also stole another silk cloth of pale yellow to drape over the green dress. Wrapping it in a bundle, I snuck it under my arm, covering it all with my dark cloak. As I came to the end of the street where the wall towered in front of me, a bloom of smoke withered its way around me, creeping into my nose with a spiteful metallic taste. I looked up, to find a chimney a few buildings away, with a hot atmosphere to it. I took this as my destination and ran into the home and shop. Closing the door behind me, I heard the coo of a sleeping babe. Ignoring it, I looked for a proper sword. The wall was littered with weapons, some furnished and sparkling, others still needed in the works and forge. I eyed them all before coming upon a nice sword fit for any soldier with no mark of Troy yet embedded in it. I picked it from its holster in the wall, my face reflecting in it.
"May I help you? The forgery is not a place for ladies such as you," the sharp feminine voice echoed in my ears. The sword clanked, rumbling in my ears as it hit the ground. I turned around, a tall woman with broad shoulders and a large figure eyeing me from the doorway to the other room.
Since I was breathless, the woman asked no excuses when I said, "Where is the blacksmith?" The woman brushed away a lock of long black hair that escaped her braid, her hands on her hips. From the heat of the forgery and the sun, her face was red and sweaty. She eyed me with distrust and who better to do so. I was dressed in foreign clothing and was trying my best to tuck a stolen outfit under my arm. My hair was knotted and full of streaked blond sections form my days at sail.
"He is with all the other men fighting, the Greeks have attacked the city." Perhaps she thought I was dumb, I thought of the words irrelevant since I didn't look as if I had been walking the streets of Troy this morning. But a sudden wail from down the hall tore her eyes that disturbed me away, as she ran to fetch the crying babe. When I couldn't see her any more, I grabbed the fallen sword and to my advantage an empty scabbard on my way out. I scampered down the street and almost slid turning the sharp corner. I smacked my back against the wall, taking deep breaths. The wall, unlike the weather, was cool and refreshed my back. I waited for the screaming that would claim thievery, but the woman was too stuck up with her children to notice a missing sword. She probably thought I had placed it back where it belongs, I thought hopefully. I began to trot down the street again, knowing full well I couldn't exit the way I entered.
Stuffing the sword next to my clothes, I ran down another alley. The street ended, but the passage did not. The back end of homes loomed to one side, the double stories full of dark, yet benevolent looking windows. I pressed against an uneven stone in the interior of the great immense wall, and like magic the large stone was pushed inside, exposing a hallway that went through the thick wall and out to the other side through another passage like this, leading me to the freedom I sought after. I bent over and walked gingerly into the hall, catching my breath and yet holding it for it caused too much noise. Sand crunched under my feet and I soon came to the end of the line. A hatch opened up to the peeking hole where I had seen the man's face before. Now his dead body was strewn in blood, arrows and the broken tip of a spear. His eyes were wide with surprise, it was obvious someone had made him open the hatch, and then killed him through the small opening. I was surprised at my luck, then looked to the closed hatch. I slowly opened it and gasped, glazed over eyes staring death at me. Muffling my scream, I nudged the stone that again did not meet the others. Again it was pushed out, divulging the beaches of Troy. I crept out and looked around. The man that had been propped on the door, fell with a heavy thud to the ground. I realized someone had attracted the men to come out of the secret passage and then were killed. I prayed they were no Trojans I knew, for I couldn't picture their faces alive in the mangled mess they were placed in before death.
I looked back to the beach. Every boat had landed and had let forth the men to attack the shores. No Trojan who had stood within the stance of the sharpened logs was alive and breathing. I prayed with empathy for the fallen men, then made my way back to the ship with black sails. On the way I caught sight of the Temple. The golden statue of Apollo was now beheaded and all the horses were not bearing men. Achilles led Hector in there? I thought with suspicion. Not caring, but rather enjoying all my fortune and providence, I began walking back to Patroclus, pulling my hood over my head to conceal myself from the men making tents and camps already. The sun had began to set, leaving shimmering colors of red, orange, yellow and purple mixed with blue over the horizon and the ocean.
Patroclus remained motionless, drenched with anger over his cousin. He sat on the rim of the ship, watching the other men left behind build tents. They neither asked for his help nor what troubled him. For his eyes were so full of menace that any man was afraid to even approach the young man. All were frightened and troubled but I, who climbed over the crest of the sand hill and ran for him. My body tired, I stepped close to the peak of the hill, when a man called for me.
"You! I believe you have something for me," he shouted. The sand peeled itself into my sandals, but I cared not as I hulled my body and made it turn around. The man who I had elbowed and robbed of his weapon stood a few feet from me, holding out his hand. He was done reckoning with me, just stayed silent and waited for me to give up my stolen treasure. I opened up my cloak and pulled forth the sword protected in the scabbard. I held onto the leathered point, handing over the hilt to him. His arm pulsed with his movements around his new weapon. The metal rang across the leather material as he pulled it out, striping my face with light. My eyes squinted from beneath my hood from the reflected light, but he took no notice. He tied the casing to his belt and seethed his sword.
"It's a nice sword, but I dare not complement the maker of it," he presumed, then turned back around and walked down the hill towards the temple to join Achilles in the last fight. I sneered at him with my eyes, full of scorn and displeasure. Ready to follow him and strike him if need be, I clenched my fists, my body obeying and cooling down. Not even a bit of thanks, I should take that sword and throw it into the ocean as well, then we'll see what he thinks. Knowing my idea was irrational, I started my walk back to the ship. The sun blared into my eyes, as I moved my head, the mast blocked the bright light and showed a shadow amongst the dimming bodies that moved around. Patroclus was seating on the rim of his cousin's ship, moping over what had happened before. He looked up and saw me, I could almost feel his eyes lighting up as his anger diminished. I immediately ran down the small hill, coming up breathless to him. The wind brushed back the hood and waved through my hair, turning it into knotted waves that gloated over its stunning sparkle in the sun. Patroclus stayed where he was, but held out a hand. I grasped it firmly and I felt his strong muscles go to work as he lifted me into the air and onto the boat beside him. We now sat a couple feet up, the anchored boat bobbing us up and down as we dangled our feet over the edge. Patroclus stared with amazement at me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked with great urgency. I smiled a sly smile, then brushed away a lock of his hair the wind blew into his charming face.
"I decided which side I will come to in this war. I don't want to wait to meet you again either." Patroclus edged closer to me, smiling with enjoyment. "Now I can tell you about my past and you can teach me your sword maneuvers." He nodded, looking down at me sidelong. I took the liberty of resting my tired head on his shoulder. I thought it awkward, but yet didn't want to retire from his warm touch. My body was sent into a flood of shivers. I untied my cloak and threw it behind me to the ship's floor, along with my new bundle of clothing. Patroclus looked to the clothes, then at me with an amused look. "I can't stand this clothing from Greece. I much prefer soft silk from Troy." He rubbed his chin, hiding his smile. Then he became serious.
"Whatever happens, you know you're safe here, right?" he acquired. I nodded, knowing that what he would try to mention would be what I wanted to hear from him. "Achilles told the men not to harm you. And I want to make sure they don't." I felt a warm feeling drizzling down my back. A stinging sensation ran its way up my spine and Patroclus seemed to notice it too. "Your back!" he exclaimed. "It's bleeding again." I heard a rip as he tore a section from his sleeveless shirt, soaking up the new blood with it. "You should really clean this up," he advised. I dipped my head up and down, staring at his face with wild eyes. His fingers were tender and gentle. Suddenly all the aches in the world seemed to sweep over my body. I looked over my shoulder, watching him care over my wound. His face was constricted in concentration, troubled by something greater than my wounded back. I grabbed his hands, holding the bloody rag with him.
"What happened? Why are you so troubled?" I asked in wonder, wishing to hear of his past. He didn't meet my eye, but kept soothing my stinging back. It was something harsh, something that he'd rather forget. Finally he gave in, and acceded in telling me.
"When I was a boy I was playing with a friend. And that boy was killed that same day, right in front of my eyes." I could imagine the sight for such young eyes to see. It was not just, not proper and I wished to welcome his troubled soul into my arms, telling him all was alright. He caught my stare, my look in question of who would do such a thing to such a young life. "He died that day because I killed him." I gasped, averting my eyes and staring into his dark clad chest. So many relations Odysseus described. Patroclus was hurt by my actions and tore his arm away. I looked up, showing him my sorrow, not my disparagement. "I did it on accident, but yet the country sought to toss me out, declaring to everyone that I was a murderer. Achilles heard of what happened to me and took me in. I can barely remember anything before that day, nothing about my parents." I saw his dilemma and difficulty. I saw how that memory tore at his heart and ripped it to pieces. I laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him to me.
"You can not be blamed for something so tragic that you never wanted to happen. I do not blame you, but the people who showed you no love and kicked you out do and they are wrong. Achilles was right to take you in, and teach you not to despair and suffer in misery." I smiled a genuine smile, which he cherished. Then he wrapped his arm around my back, still dabbing the cloth onto the blood that circled around the torn flesh. Time seemed to stop, sleep and drowsiness seemed to stop and I loved the touch of the man seated next to me. There was no more talk of ruined pasts, no more sorrow passed and we both watched the sun go down into the ocean, darkness enveloping around us. I nodded asleep once or twice, but Patroclus refused to disturb me. When I did wake it was because Achilles had finally returned and wanted to round up his men. He looked at me, but I still rested my head on his cousin's chest.
"Patroclus, your tent has built," he indicated a tent close to his own. Then he looked to me. "It is not safe for you to stay here. Agamemnon is already aware of your presence, as are most men who have passed by to see you two." He spat the last word out, not yet accepting what I and Patroclus had shared together. I found him ill-tempered and arrogant. "I advise you to leave here, go back to Troy and stay there." I lifted my head.
"I have chosen my side that I will follow-"
"But no one else has. For your life and Patroclus's, you need to leave!" Achilles interrupted in a booming voice, so conceited it made me cringe. He glanced once at Patroclus, whose head was bowed, not wanting to be punished once more today for his actions. Then Achilles turned and walked away, stalking into his own tent. I looked up at Patroclus. He handed me the cloak and clothes.
"I don't want to go," I protested. He nodded, fully aware of what we both wanted. But we knew that it truly couldn't be done. I jumped down from the boat, sending needles of pain down my spine. I started to walk away when Patroclus grabbed my shoulder, spinning me back around as he jumped off.
"I want to see you again. You were able to sneak your way in and out once, please do it again. Please." He looked down at me, his blue eyes tantalizing till I could stand it no longer. I lifted my face to his and our lips met. His lips were gorgeous, something I never tasted before. I didn't want to it end, his tongue mixing with my own. It was the best moment and I knew that fate had made me sleep that night Helen escaped, that doom dragged me to Odysseus and he let me join him. Perhaps it was again destiny that led me to the ruins and let me stare at his handsome face and body. But the time went by too soon and we parted. His breathing was fast and I realized I hadn't been breathing at all. Catching it, I closed my eyes, feeling every part of the kiss that still left my lips tingling. He snuck his hand through my hair, then let me go as I began to step backwards, unable to let him from my sight. "Aldreana, please…" he whispered. He savored every part of that kiss.
I walked through the camp, numb with anxiety, so numb I noticed not the men behind me, following me with sneering eyes. My head was bent down, following the sand and the trail left by others. Fires blazed all around and I looked up in surprise when a fire log collapsed, sending sparks into the air. It was as if every sound was delayed in my ears. I looked up to find a man standing in front of me, bearing strong arms and sneering with aspiration at me. He stood arms crossed, with a look of happiness on his face now that he had trapped his prize. I looked around at the sound of many other snickering men, comprehending they had cornered me. I looked at the leader, the man in front of me.
"What do you want with me?" I asked in annoyance. Agamemnon is already aware of your presence… Achilles words penetratingly said to me in my head. The men laughed at my snobbish and haughty attitude, then one from behind grabbed my arm, twisting it. Another scratched his fingers along my back, placing them in every point of my wound. I shirked in pain, my knees wobbling. The man bent down to met me eye to eye.
"Agamemnon wishes a word with you." Each laughing at the pain I received with each grate along my back, they led me through the maze of tents to the largest one in the center of the huge camp. New blood dripped off the torn clothes, mixing into the sand and dirt. The tent flap opened and the man pushed me in, only one stayed with me. The tent had each side full of gold, weapons and trophies, it was as if Agamemnon could not part with his wealth. He sat on a throne, talking to a man. At my entrance they both looked up, the other being Odysseus. His eyes grew wide at the new sight of my tear stained cheeks and ruffled hair.
"Aldreana…" he whispered. Agamemnon dismissed him. Odysseus took the liberty of throwing the man's arm off my shoulder, the King seated in front of us did not see. Then Agamemnon looked to the man. With a wave of his hand, the man fled the tent, the flap waving with the wind that entered. I licked my lips, ready for anything this king could throw on me. Patroclus's lips still ached me. Agamemnon rose, motioning me to come forward. His gray hair mixed with his eyes in a perfect balance of evil and greed.
"I thought you were told to stay behind," he said with a gruff voice. I wished to smile, but my heart was heavy and hurt and full of fatigue, I did not want to meet this man again.
"Actually, if I remember correctly, you told me by all means find Achilles, how I got here was something of my own choosing." Agamemnon's eyes turned to beady slits of resentment. He took a look over his shoulder to his weapons, if not I a woman he truly considered killing me on the spot, letting my body rot in the sun. Instead he clenched his jaw and I saw a vein twitch in his forehead.
"Mark my words, girl, I will take pleasure in killing you have you words like that to me more. Your headstrongness is most strenuous." I could not refuse to smile at this, for moments ago I had led Patroclus into breaking rules just as easily as I would, but that was much different that hate. I faked a bow, showing I honored him not at the moment. He still had yet to see what I kept hidden.
"My lord, as you know I am not your servant and by all means kill me, but then I will not be able to give you what you want most," I anticipated. Agamemnon slightly raised a hand to strike me.
"And what is that?" he spat. I smiled cunningly, winning once more in my occupation.
"Why, the key to Achilles," I responded with. Agamemnon seemed to not believe my words, his face lit up like a child's when they learn they have earned something. "You set me free my lord with no more harm done, let me go back to Troy or to Achilles' camp and I will give you his plans." Agamemnon now took back all of his thoughts on killing me. He bowed his head in false reverence.
"Very well," he agreed, seeing the idea very palatable for him indeed.