Chapter 12: The Fires of Night
Eudorus watched Aldreana and Patroclus with surreptitious eyes. The dark blond haired girl amazed him, confused him and yet was frightening almost. Such a dark past was clouded behind those lush green eyes, such a danger to her very soul. Her heart expressed love, kindness, frivolous behavior, but her soul, her mind was trapped in a chaotic world that Eudorus loathed. No woman such as her, blessed with beauty and such a spirit, should have to feel such things. Likewise, he felt the same ambiguous threat about Patroclus. A lone boy, with a good heart, yet was so easily corrupted by war. He could not call the blame to the narcissistic man Achilles, but could surely place the blame on all men who laid a sword in their son's hands. Eudorus watched Aldreana rise, pulling forth a sword clinging to her bags. She unsheathed the sword, swinging it lightly with one hand around her. Patroclus gazed with compulsion at her fluid motions, instantly standing and aiding her in more thrusting cuts to the air. Eudorus's contemptuous, distraught glare was plastered plainly on his face as Achilles stepped from his tent out to his captain.
"You spend as much time gazing at her as Patroclus does," Achilles remarked. Eudorus stepped slightly, startled by the leader's sudden presence.
"What do you think of her?" Achilles natural habit was a snort, crossing his arms and looking at his cousin who had now pulled out his own sword. "Nervous?" Patroclus said slyly as he caught Achilles with his weapon. Achilles spun around, blocking all of his cousin's moves till he caught the young man in the same position, the wooden sword aimed for his throat. "Petrified," he answered with a devious grin.
"I think that Aldreana would have been his one blunder if he had fought at all in this war. He thinks too highly of her, distracted easily. I believe that she has other matters up her sleeves." Achilles shielded his eyes from the sun and looked sternly at Aldreana. Deep in his mind, he confirmed he was wrong, but was too bold to say so. However, Eudorus was not.
"You have spoken to her only with a brash attitude, and she in return gives back what was given to her. I think she is an honest girl who knows her ways around life the hard way, but at least she is stronger from it. She has lost much Achilles." Eudorus found his words ingratiating, Achilles lifted an eyebrow in question.
"You go against me Eudorus." His harsh voice made the other man stiffen. Then Achilles chuckled and laughed, clasping his hand on Eudorus's shoulder. "Men like you are the reasons I live for wars, with companions at my side to fight with me." He walked away chuckling still, Eudorus pondering over whether the girl in his tent was the reason for his high spirits.
Hector, his temper ill found by morning, moped his way into the run down temple with a group of armored men at his side. He kicked away a broken spear, brushing away a bloody rag that fell from the wall beside him. He came to the center room of the temple, where the alter stood still illuminated with a dying candle dripping wax down its side. Incense hung heavily in the air and the last piece of bread rolled by Hector's feet. He kicked it away petulantly. She's been here. Why his heart still cared and lifted to the lost spy was a mystery to him, but Aldreana had been stuck in his mind, incoherent thoughts of her voice and memories swirling through his head. He walked briskly out of the room, walking out to his first encounter with Achilles. The sea washed up against the rocks, the air cool and fresh. His blue cloak wiped itself around him, his black locks falling into his eyes. The camps of the Greeks dispersed themselves before his eyes and he bared his teeth abhorrently at them.
"My lord, this is dangerous ground, we shouldn't loiter," one man advised. Hector heard the man's plea, but scarcely cared about it. "What if I leave to carry myself away from this world, what would you say to me then?" Aldreana's words echoed in Hector's head. He cursed, swore to himself for saying such things to her. Somehow he knew that what he said, his threat of the opposing wall as her only defense was a thing he would deeply regret. He should have begged her to stay. Become confrontational and so forceful she would be weeping to remain in Troy. Letting her leave was a mistake and Hector wished he could change everything that had happened, to the point where he left her behind in Sparta. But the past was not something to be toiled with, nor was the might of the Gods.
A hearty laugh caught up in the waves, crawling up the rocky cliff to Hector's ears. He jumped from the temple's edge and came as close to the sandy cliff as he could before the sheer, ominous drop made him steer himself back. Aldreana dropped her weapon and a man came and swept her into his arms. Hector sprang back from his spot, a pang of jealously eating away at his heart. Who was the man? Hector leaned forward again, catching a flash of blond hair and a swatch of black tunic. Achilles…Hector snarled, vexed by the idea. The men came up behind him.
"My lord, come, we must return back to the city." Hector needed no more recommendations from his men, turning his back to the couple below on the beach. He walked efficiently, almost at a run, to the horses and jumped on. Galloping away, he heard his men coming up not far behind him. The burly man beside him looked at his prince quizzically, but remained silent. Hector eyed the man out of the corner of his eye.
"We attack tonight, when they sleep and dream. They will never suspect a thing," Hector proposed stiffly. The husky man gave Hector a passive look, finally acceding and nodded. Hector kicked his horse's flanks, the animal bounding ahead into the blood stained field of the battle from yesterday. When the walls of sand and sun brunt colored stone came into view did Hector finally breathe with relief again.
The waves seemed to be the only sound as Patroclus held me in his arms. I felt a secure feeling to his touch and was sent into a river of chills each time a breeze came. His arm rubbed my bumpy skin, sending it back into its smoothness. He rested his face on my head, staring at the dying day with me. The sun reflected sharply on my dagger, the hilt glinting its bright brilliance into my face. I raised my head and with it Patroclus too rose back up. He brushed away hair from my eyes. I let him caress my cheek, allowing his hand twine itself around my slim waist to my chest.
"Patroclus," I whispered. He hummed his attention. "You have yet to teach me sword." He smiled slightly.
"I know, but it is a promise I indeed to keep." I pushed him away playfully and stood back up, walking to my bundle of things and untying the sword that hung from my bag. The metal was hot, heated from the sun and molded all too perfectly to my hand as I slipped it out from its case. I lifted it to take in the full length, and then circled it around in midair, my liquefied motions sending Patroclus transfixed. I twirled around in the air, striking non-existent enemies in front of me. Patroclus's blue eyes made me giggle.
Balancing the blade tip down in the sand, I leaned on it and looked at him. He sat in the sand with his hands resting on his knees, his partly bare chest glistening in the sun.
"My father taught me a little skill or two," I joked. Patroclus chuckled and stood up. He came behind me, his arms on either side of me and grasped his hands around my own on the sword. He matched my moves, helping me slice the air with his own teachings. The movements were quick and rapid. Making me hardly believe one man could do such things. While he willed my hands to move, I was the one to hold the weapon. I dreamed of the day where I could see Patroclus do the same things alone.
"Achilles' first lesson for me was to believe the no one could pass me. I had to be fast, so the opposing force would not even calculate my next move before I made it. The enemy wouldn't even be able to register the fact that I would kill him the next second." He let go of my hands and watched me repeat the movements he just showed me. He nodded at each right and strong move, testing my ability. Proud of my quick learning I hacked away fiercely at the air. I could feel Patroclus's creamy blue eyes on me and decided to test my own mentor's skill. Fast as lightning, I spun around with my sword piercing the air. The next second I clashed metal against metal. The force made me back up and I blinked in amazement. Patroclus smirked, lowering his sword that he had quick thinking pulled from the belt at his side.
"The second lesson was not to turn my back to the enemy." The momentary silence was for me to learn my mistake, and then I rushed at him. He easily came at me, making me back up yet keep him at bay. I could tell he barely worked his muscles, the ones pulsing in his arms every time he lifted his word above his face and then brought it lightly down to me. The light from the sun made him look unreal, like a God almost and I stared with a tranquility and peace inside me knowing I had made the right decision. While he hardly worked, I put all the skill I knew into proving I was better than he thought. My headstrongness, however, got the better of me as Patroclus whacked my sword harder than normal. I knew as I tripped into the waves of water that he was over come by the heat of his sword, the feeling of bringing down the enemy. My face was hidden in the glare of the sun and as he pointed the blade at my throat I knew that he was lost in the battle of yesterday.
He stiffened, blinking wildly. The sword was shaking in his unsteady hands, the point wiggling back and forth in the air, grazing across my skin. He was breathing heavily, while gasping in ankle deep water, my blade still clutched in one hand. He sheathed his sword and held out his hand. I offered his merit with a slight trick of my own and instead of getting to my feet yanked him down. Unaware of my sudden action, he collapsed with a splash next to me, his hair flicking back in my face with drops of water. The foamy clear liquid coughed itself with each wave against us. Patroclus glared up at me, while I tried my hardest to stifle my laugh. He whipped out his hand, splashing me again. I gasped as the water splashed my face, smearing the water away from eyes and looking up as he stood and ran away. Laughing I got up just as quickly and grabbed his tunic that flapped in the air. His arms wrapped around my waist as he ducked under my sweeping arm and came up behind me.
"I thought your first lesson was to be quick, so the enemy could not calculate your actions," I mocked. He leaned against me, holding me close and resting his jutting chin on my shoulder. Looking up at me with excited blue eyes, I felt my body melt with glee at the admiration he gave me.
"I thought I told you never to turn your back on the enemy. Who knows when I can come up and surprise you?" he whispered as he trailed his hands down my waist. Shivers ran down my spine at his gentle touch and I fell into his embrace as his zealous kiss made my knees rattle together. I felt eyes. Staring at me the whole time, and when the kiss ended did they vanish. I looked up to the cliff where the temple sat idly, the hazy night that darkened with each second hiding the structure. I searched for what I had felt; they were the eyes that could no longer be seen. Hector? my mind whispered. We stood there in the water, our damp bodies pressed against each other.
Patroclus said not a word, not even mentioning my gaze at the temple. His kisses trailed down my neck as he led me back to the dry beach. We collapsed together in the sand, his hands suddenly tearing away my damp clothes from my body, grazing up my legs. I cared not if out actions were to be later hushed in the camp. Let the men have their pride and dignity sucked away from them as they gazed with greedy eyes at me, Patroclus's sword at the ready to hold them off. Patroclus seemed to answer to his own desires, not withdrawn because of Achilles' doubt or mistrust of me. His hands flourished along every crevice of skin, his fingers tingling, a fiery essence that coursed throughout my whole body. He leaned over me, grabbing me in his strong arms. Our bodies were clasped together, with the raising night, the stars were all that remained as our company…
Stars sparkled brightly, winking, twinkling down at us. Their expansive sight seemed to look beyond us, beyond Troy to a place where love couldn't be disrupted by war. Patroclus and I walked back to the camp, the sand dunes and hills blocking my view of the looming city. I felt my heart lingering for the forgotten home still. Patroclus kept silent and allowed me my one last regret. I knew my eyes were showing something different than my smiling and serene face, I knew they had to have showed a hint of evasive to them, the green hue murky with Troy and Greece. Patroclus kept his words tongue in cheek, glancing up at the dunes of often and sighing greatly. There wasn't jealousy marked in his face, but I knew deep down he loathed Hector, whining for my love and for the prince to be demolished by his lust.
Achilles' tent and likewise the Myrmidons came into view, the small fires and gathered men casting shadows across the sea. Patroclus walked nonchalantly into the camp, but I suddenly felt the hair of my neck stand on edge. His hand pulled on mine and he spun around with surprise.
"Aldreana--" I held out my hand, shushing him. He cocked an eyebrow but my glare made him serious, frivolous attitude wiped clean. Dropping my bag and sword, I hunkered down and slinked my way up the small hill. Patroclus crouched down with me as we crept up the sand dunes, his hand guarding my back. He occasionally took a peek behind him while my eyes were stuck ahead. We crossed over a dune, the wall soaring into the air. A thin black line ran along the field, starting from the beginning of the Greek's camp to where Achilles' began. I stepped closer, the hazy line taking shape. The lumps and ridges of the figures confused me. Patroclus grabbed me from behind. "Come on, it's dangerous here," he warned. I brushed away his arm and continued closer. Another hill sprang up from the side of us, hiding the temple that still poked into view. Another black form was standing there. A shiver ran down my spine and I felt a pair of eyes on me besides Patroclus's deep set blue ones.
Thwack! Simultaneously, the night sky was lit with a fury of arrows. Fire licked of the wooden poles of arrows and landed roughly in the sand. Another taunt bowstring made me look up to the hill next to us. Two arrows flew through the air, the fire sparking and flying into my face as it landed feet from me.
"Aldreana!" Patroclus sprang for me, hauling me back as another arrow was launched, this time landing where I had stood moments before. The men crouched down in the sand looked up, their faces lit up in the fire. They aimed their arrows at Patroclus and me. A horse cried wildly as blood soaked the sword. A man came from behind them, attacking them and hacking away at them till nothing familiar remained. Sending my merit, I ran down the hill, Patroclus quickly behind with his sword drawn. A thundering sound suddenly came from after, a rolling sound that rang in my ears, slicing through the quiet night. My eyes grew wide as I looked over my shoulder. The Trojans, who had suddenly appeared like magical creatures from the night, threw round balls of hay down at the Greek's encampment. They easily caught fire and rolled down the hills in a chaotic burst of flame. Sand was whipped pout in all directions as the fiery bales rolled past us; I watched them set the tents and sullies of the Greeks aflame. An explosion came from one tent, the fire rising feet into the air. I screamed at the booming noise, watching splinters of wood and cloth fly in each which way. Hectic cries gave way as the men tried to stop the havoc. To my utter surprise, Achilles' camp seemed untouched, as if the Gods themselves were protecting it.
"Aldreana, look out!" Patroclus leapt for me, covering me with his back to the rolling hay ball that came up behind. I felt the heat escape to me, trapping us for a split second in unbearable turbulent anguish. Patroclus yelped in pain as the fire grazed his back, singing his flesh. From beneath his crossed arms I peeked in between fringes of cloth and skin, the fire pass us quickly and flew down the hill towards an idol tent. It was easily demolished. Patroclus winced as we stood back up and ran for the tents. My worried filled eyes couldn't tear themselves away from his burned back, the red welts and hideous burns rising in puffy blisters. The sizzling camp enveloping all around was engulfing us in intoxicating fumes and billows of smoke.
I looked back to the dunes. The light from the flames and blaze lit up his face. Hector stood grudgingly, his eyes willing themselves into my soul. My heart twisted in pain and agony at his face. Patroclus looked up and met the other man's eyes. The look that passed between them was filled with repugnance and revulsion. Both their faces were locked together in an epic duel, my stomach churning and sickly bubbling with anxiety. We sprinted into Achilles camp and with out delay Patroclus immediately went to his cousin's tent, leaving me in the cloudily darkness. I made out the shape of Eudorus, but he was busy with the last of the Myrmidon tents that had caught the Trojans surprise attack.
Infuriated with my rash actions, my mind kept replaying Patroclus's yell of pain, the looks between him and Hector. I wished for something different. I wished that the meeting between them was of my choosing and not Paris'. Patroclus and Hector would not hate each other if just given the chance. That will never happen and you know that. My mind seemed to scold me of imagination that was only dreams. And sharp twist and grinding of the sand didn't pull my thoughts away, nor the heavy, stiff breathing of lungs caught in a torment of smoke. I was completely unaware of the creeping men that appeared from the shadows of the tents, their sneers and impudent smiles filling their faces.