Chapter 9: A Haunting Past
I gasped out loud, the men all joining in with Patroclus and looking at me with bemused faces. Once again I tear myself from the group, sitting on the edge of the bank, kneeling down as tears came to my eyes. Hector, oh Hector why? My mind screamed. The two pieces that had sewed me together, Patroclus and Hector came crashing together with the armies that ran for each other. I held up my head and watched. The armies came to one another in a violent heap of weapons clashing, blood spraying and bodies falling on top of one another. My stomach flinched with each desperate cry of pain and agony, my hand on the dagger of my demised brother. I couldn't tear my eyes off the battle, catching Paris' glinting armor as Hector makes him leave back into the safety of the towering walls of Troy. My eyes gripped painfully all the deaths and dying, my heart retching in contempt. Patroclus called my name, it was delayed, a whisper in my ears. As the battle raged on, so did the memories…
The whip lashed out, catching the flesh of my back and tearing it to pieces. I screamed in pain and watched my father's smile grow. The man holding the damned item smiled with glee knowing he was pleasing his master. I knew the agonizing cries I gave and the blood that spilled down my back haunted him forever. The thrashes continued till I was sliding down the pole I was tied to, the ropes biting at my wrists. I was clutching my lips with all the might I could muster with my teeth, the scream still escaping. Twenty-two, twenty-three…
My father stepped closer, holding out his hand. The man stopped, holding the whip with sweaty fingers and catching his breath. Father sneered at me as he bent down to look me in the eye. His mouth stank of old food, his tongue licking his lips that were already crimson from being bit on so hard. I hoped that he bit it in remorse, but my hope was short lived.
"Now, Aldreana, tell me what you will do?" He waited for my answer, the short gasps making my lungs tighten, begging for air but I could give them none. I looked up between strands of sweaty soaked hair. I gathered up the blood from biting on my lip and all the spit I could gather. I blinked in anger at the man I had been made from and spat at his feet. I grimaced in disappointment when I watched it miss him by an inch. My father stood up and laughed at me. "Wrong answer," he said, nodding to the man. The man chuckled and lifted up the thick black leather of the whip and swung it up in the air, bringing it back down on my skin. Twenty- four, twenty-five. I counted them all, gripping the shaft of wood I hung to with knuckle-white fingers. Every other one I gasped in pain, and then took a deep breath before crying out again. Father stared at me deeply, showing a hint of false sorrow for me.
"You should have listened. I warned you of the punishment you would receive Aldreana, but you refused to listen. Your brother was filled with the same weakness as your mother; I had hoped you would be more like me. But it seems I have been mistaken, once again." Thirty-two, thirty-three. He lifted his hand again. The man stopped, lost balance and ran into my line of vision. His face was etched with pain. The second my father looked at the man's grimace he quickly changed it to a squint from the heat of the sun. The sun boiled my blood, threatening to burn my skin to nasty crisps. It was as if the sun had even given in to my father's wrath. His face was in front of mine again, facing me with dark eyes full of hatred. He mumbled the question again, but all I heard was an explanation that stopped short. My vision became foggy. I barely saw his sneer aimed at me.
"Aldreana…" His voice almost saddened, almost became full of fright as I opened my mouth and croaked an answer.
"Why?" I asked. My father wrinkled his nose at me, as if I was a rotting animal lying helpless and dead in front of him. He stood up.
"What?" he snarled in a quaking voice of anger.
"Why did you kill them, why do you want me to do this?" I asked the words quickly as I ran out of breath, my hyperventilating lungs burning for oxygen. My body shook violently as I stared into the wrath of Hades, my father becoming the immortal God of the Underworld. Again he chuckled, though I swore I saw a sign of the man who loved me once. Then it was gone in his clinking teeth as he laughed.
"By the Gods Aldreana why do you think?" he raised his arm in a flash and a blur of flesh and cloth. Thirty-four, thirty-five. "I came to Troy for your mother, I lusted her that day I saw her in Greece, cradling the babe of Hector in her arms, taking him to the Queen. She was young. I was young and a stupid stable boy. I dreamed of more and watched her flaunt herself to the king, bowing in front of him and announcing the birth of his son. I had to have her. That winter they stayed in Greece, for the safety of the babe that she cradled as the Queen took over her royal duties once more. I walked up to her, met her and fell in love with her. I asked to marry her, she accepted. Her father, the Trojan pig of a father, did not. He laughed at my profession, a stable boy. He was part of court. But I planned it out and soon the father passed away, leaving everything to me, including the role in court. While she wept bitterly, the love of my life, I was rising in power, unaware of her pitiful father."
Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty. He stopped the man again and the ropes that bound me gave way, the grazing of my arms against the wood tearing apart the frayed cord. I landed face first to the ground, the sand sweeping into my mouth with each gasp. I lifted up my head, and tried to lift my aching body back up. His foot stomped against my back, the heel of his sandal cracking it. I screamed and fell back down, wishing someone could hear my call. But the hilltop was too far from the city, the ancient ruins looking at me with no eyes, the souls of those that trotted along the stone laughing at me, mocking me.
"You killed him!" I choked for breath. He grabbed my bloody dark blond hair and pulled me up, the strain on my head leaving my mind swirling. His face was in front of mine. All I saw was his eyes pointing at me with hatred ineffable.
"Yes Aldreana, I did. I wanted power. I was in court. All I needed next was to rise. And soon I did. I became one of the right-hand men to Priam. And then I had a son and knew what I could do with him. I could ascend the throne with him. But he was pitiful, weak and became a member of Hector's army. And your mother, your mother gave birth to you and thought my idea and illusion of her becoming Queen a crazy notion. Your brother refused me just as she did, so I disposed myself of them, carrying you in my arms, carrying you into my plan. The years I spent in Troy have been years where I am mocked, treated like the stable boy I once was. But now I shall have my revenge. I shall take what was rightfully mine, what has always been mine, a place on the throne."
He leered into my face with a breath of death. I choked, sucking in my breath till I could no longer smell him on me. "And now, through all my revenge all I have left is you Aldreana. So, what are you doing for me again?" He moved in deeper, leaning forward to here my pained whisper of an answer. I slowly drifted back and forth between darkness and his face and heard him snarl in fury. My body was lifted in the air and slammed against the hard stonewall that remained of the ruins. My head swirled with the stars and I felt a sharp breath escape my lungs. I sucked in, but my lungs remained swollen. I couldn't breath. I begged for air, but Father kept pushing harder against my chest. A crack rose in my ears and suddenly my arm went numb. "Answer me!"
"I'm killing the Princes…" The weight grew lighter and I saw his smile appear. "… So you can…" The weight was taken off, his hand holding my numb arm and back still against the wall. "… Be given all the power in the world. The city of Troy…" He let go of me and I tumbled to the ground. "…Will be yours…" The world blacked out and I heard his shrill, devilish laugh in my head, haunting me for eternity.
"Aldreana!" Patroclus's voice mixed with my father's laugh. I opened my eyes, his blue ones staring at me wide and full of fright. "Aldreana!" He shook my arms again. I felt a stinging sensation cling to my back, the scars of forty lashes recurring within me. My head became stiff again as I looked up into his eyes. Tears ran down my cheeks, I blinked away the memory. Patroclus kneeled next to me, my gaping mouth challenging his concern. I felt eyes all around me, realizing the Myrmidons, Achilles looking over his shoulder at me, were all staring at me. Eudorus considered me up and down, matching his alarm with Patroclus's, though not showing feelings as deeply. I noticed the ruins standing with Achilles. I had been pulled back into the depths of sand and hills. Patroclus tightened his grip, making me tune back into the world.
"Oh Patroclus," I gasped and fell into his arms with tears and sobs. His body stiffened, I knew somehow that he looked behind towards the men, who all limbered off, then came back to me.
"Shhhh…Aldreana, it's alright. It's over now, don't worry." He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking it carefully. Confused, I looked up to his face.
"What do you mean?" I instantly noted that the sounds of clashing weapons, dying men struck my ears no longer. "The battle?" Patroclus smiled slightly and shook his head. He kissed my forehead, cradling my shoulders with his strong arms.
"No, the memories that haunt you. They're just dreams, they can't harm you, not while I'm here. I promise." He stepped up to his feet and dragged me along with him. My knees clinked together and my feet wobbled. I sank back down, my body dead weight. The echoes of my cries made me wince. I looked up to find Achilles walking briskly through his men to Patroclus and me. The wall that he leaned on was now filled with an image of my father holding me, my broken arm hanging limply at my side. He frowned at me, clenching his teeth.
"You talk to that so called prince of yours," he snarled. I glared at him, but Achilles was barely finished talking. "The Greeks were forced to retreat," he informed me, the men averting their stares from their leader. "We head back to camp." He immediately started walking back the way we had come. But I had my own angry retort.
"The battle has nothing to do with Paris. The Greeks underestimated the Trojans, which is their own fault and mistake. Maybe if they weren't led by such a king, the outcome would have been better." Somewhere inside Achilles he was fumbling with anger but at the comment of Agamemnon, he smiled at me, yet his eyes remained grim. He walked on and the men followed, lastly Eudorus who motioned for Patroclus to hurry.
"Why do you hate such a man, he is a wise leader," Patroclus said as he helped me stand.
"If he was so wise he wouldn't have his men move in so close to the wall. That was the first mistake I noticed when they arrived," I mumbled under my breath, my knees still contradicting what I willed them to do. I lost balance again, falling back into the sand. Tears till drizzled down my cheeks as strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me up in the air. This time I did not flinch; I did not look into the eyes of a torturer, but rather a lover. Patroclus began carrying me back to the camp. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his warm chest. I felt his muscles go to work, tightening with each step.
"That's what Achilles said when the Trojans began winning. I believe I saw Odysseus whisper the same claim." My heart lifted hearing the great king of Ithaca still alive. Patroclus walked over the crest of the hill and my breath was caught in my throat. Men littered the once green field, the stained sand leaving a spotted pattern in the ground. Carts were driven over to the bodies, the survivors carelessly throwing the bodies one on top of the other. The faces were grim. The dead were limb and caught in a glazed look of fear and amazement before the deathly blow hit them. Trojans mingled with Greeks, their bodies too tired to care that they merged with enemies. They picked through the bodies, leaving what was not theirs behind.
"This is what you dream of?" I looked up to Patroclus. His face matched that of the men down below the rise of the grassy hill beneath sand. He shook his head to be gone of a lock of hair, but it drifted back into his face. I pulled it away, tucking it behind his ear and waited for his answer.
"A soldier grows accustomed to death. I was cursed to witness it when I was young. I have seen fields like this, I will refuse to intermingle in them," he answered plainly and looked down at me. I averted my eyes, my body cringing from his words. I suddenly wished I could walk again and run from him, but my knees were like liquid folding over his arms. Patroclus continued on, the edge of the camp coming to view.
"When we come to the camp but me down, I will walk." Patroclus nodded, his face unreadable as he wondered through the death field with his eyes.
"What did you imagine? Down on the hill you began sobbing, looked behind you and then started running. I caught up with you, you were so close to the battle, but no one cared to notice, they were to wrapped up with Hector and Ajax, who fought only a few yards away. You began crying louder and Hector looked over to you. I cannot imagine the pain that shattered through his heart as he watched me wrap my arms around you, carrying you back up the hill. The slash on your back reopened, I wrapped it back up when you fainted."
"I fainted?" I asked, not remembering even drifting down into the memory, it just happened. Patroclus nodded.
"Yes, you fainted when I carried you back. You kept slipping in and out till I could stand it no longer and woke you. Do you always have visions like this?" Patroclus stopped and slowly landed me down on to the ground. I fumbled, but he caught me and waiting for me to gain balance. I sighed and pulled the hood over my head, concealing my watery eyes from him. We began walking together back into the camp. The faces here were like at the field, desolate and blank. They barely seemed to care that a Myrmidon and a hooded woman were walking into the camp; all thinking Achilles men had stayed behind. They didn't ask, didn't say a word but their eyes seeped into me, making me shiver. My only hope was that the Agamemnon was the same, that my presence would go unknown. We walked past Odysseus, who managed to quirk a smile when I showed my face. He sent a quick wink at Patroclus, who turned away crimson. As we entered the black tents of the Myrmidons I felt a sense of safety wash over me and took off the hood once we walked in deeper.
Eudorus looked up from sharpening his sword at my arrival and quirked a small smile. At the same instant Achilles walked out from his tent. His scowl wiped Eudorus's smile away. The man dropped his sword while standing and quickly bowed, losing all interest in his weapon.
"My lord…" he acknowledged. Achilles nodded and Eudorus rose back up. The mighty Achilles laid a friendly hand on Eudorus's shoulder. He smiled cunningly.
"Put the sword away Eudorus. Do not pick it up until I say so." Eudorus avoided his eyes, but answered to his lord's wishes. "I have been asked to see Agamemnon." He looked up to find me staring at him with bright green eyes. "See to it that she leaves before nightfall. I don't want an upset king to ruin my camp." Again Eudorus nodded and went to sheath his sword as Achilles walked up to me. Patroclus stopped him from stepping up to me, but I pushed his protective arm aside and held my head high.
"Do you hate me because I have deceived you?" I asked. Achilles held a stern face, making Eudorus and Patroclus pass a warning look. Achilles rubbed his chiseled chin, looking at me up and down.
"No, my lady. I don't want to be known for protecting Trojan blood on the site of the war against them." Achilles cocked his head to the side in a false bow, then turned and walked away. Patroclus saw to it that he met his cousin's stare and the look between them sent my stomach into flip-flops.
"Is that so my lord?" I took a step around Patroclus, curving my hip around his. Achilles stopped, but didn't turn around to face me. "Or are you afraid of what will happen when the memories of killing more men haunts you and I happen to stand right in the center?" Achilles lifted an eyebrow, it could be told by the posture in his head. His chest rose then fell, and then the dust rolled where he trod.
Patroclus eased me to his tent, lifting the flap and allowing me to enter, his arm curling around my waist. I walked into the stock of unused weapons and shields and the bodies from the field swam back into my mind's eye. I bit hard on my tongue, clenching my jaw till it hurt. Patroclus followed my stare. He was able to imagine the blood as well.
"Do all men dream of such things?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, now wishing to replace the subject with something else.
"Most, I guess. But some are lucky to dream about other things." His hip grazed mine like I had before and a shiver made me stubble before sitting down next to him on the cot. "So, what did you see?" I took a deep breath, deciding not to hide a horrible past anymore.
"My father taught me sword on those ruins and hills. He also punished me. One day he took me up there and whipped me." I answered bluntly, knowing Patroclus would help me gain detail.
"He…he what?" Patroclus faltered for words, his mouth hanging in anger and disbelief. I shuffled closer and he wrapped an arm around me, making sure to not hit my back.
"Forty lashes, for violating him, for not obeying what he asked of me." By habit my hands went to my shoulder blades and at the thought they ached with having forty stinging lashes struck against them. Patroclus eyed my back strangely, and then turned to listen intently to my story. "And during that he laughed at me, breaking the cycle to ask again what I was to do. But I refused and asked why, why punish me? Why did he ask me to do such things, why does he kill the ones I loved most?" I grew silent, trying to ease the pain by telling but it caused it only to hurt more, yet relief hung with each breath I took.
"He wanted power, he wanted Troy to bow at his feet. He wanted me to help him rise and I refused. I was trained sword only to kill, when the idea of sport was all that hung in my head when I carried that weapon. You men, you love it when the metal rings in your hands, the warmness of it. I cannot believe you take pride in killing, but I too wield a sword, I feel the power build inside me, the wrath that pools in me. I just do not see the pleasure of blood spilling at my heels." I tried to control my anger, but succeeded only in punching out the mangy pillow I had grabbed form Patroclus's bed. I threw the pillow aside. "Why do you and Achilles seem concern about what I see?" Patroclus arched an eyebrow.
"Are you saying that it's normal to see things that others don't?" I shifted uncomfortably, wishing to not reveal that this has happened to me my whole life. "Only one other woman has the power of visions." My breath hung on his every word. "Thetis. Some say she is a Goddess of the sea, that her visions reveal the future." His fingers brush my cheek. "Are you she Aldreana?" he whispers playfully.
Patroclus dropped his hand from my face and wrapped his arm further up my back, his fingers tingling my scars till I could no longer stand it. I stood up and unclipped one end of the dress at my shoulders. The strips of fabric that served as a sleeve on my chiton rolled down my side. I turned my back to Patroclus, his eyes are bulging at the sight of the white scars striping and crisscrossing my back. Now there is one more to match it. He retraced his fingers along the thick lines, the skin still smooth but transformed with torture. The line of his fingers thinned as I feel his hand began on another, coming down to the end of my hips. He starts another that travels back up to my shoulder and with it he grabs me and slowly spins me around. He eyes me with sorrow, compassion and a lust that I loved.
"Aldreana…" he whispered. It was then that I noticed the lust in his eyes as I saw in his mind my exposed breast, the yellow sash tied over the green chiton just missing it. His hand is still on my shoulder and I slowly will it to trail down. His other hand weaves itself in my hair and then his lips are on mine. I close my eyes, sweeping back into the bliss that takes my memories away. His hand slowly winds its way down my chest till it is cupped around my breast. I moan softly, his touch perfect. He kisses me eagerly, our bodies mingling as we fall back to the bed, the pillow I had clouted lying disappointed on the pillow. He turns me around and holds me in his arms as I look up to him.
"Who are you?" he whispers quickly, a spell tracing along the corners of his eyes. I push his hand back down my waist, the other holding my head.
The passing minutes do not exist and the battle I witnessed before seems to be only a nightmare his kiss awakens me from. Our kisses become slower and slower till he stops and rolls over and lies down next to me, his thick arms pulling me into a confronting embrace. He pulls the fabric back over my shoulder, pinning it back. His eyes show thanks, his face a look of apology and happiness. He sits up and I climb into his embrace.
"Aldreana?"
"Hmmm." I crawl closer into his chest, his biceps pulsing as he wraps me tightly.
"What did your father want you to-"
"Patroclus!" Eudorus clabbers threw another flab hidden beneath shields, a back entrance to the young man's tent. Patroclus quickly lets me go and spins up to his feet, I sitting up more slowly, though not at all the more relaxed, but instead tense.
"What is it?" Patroclus asks. Eudorus throws another shield carelessly back from where he kicked it, listens for a sound on the other side of the flap and then rushes to us.
"Agamemnon has sent his men, they are coming for you Aldreana!"