During the next few months, the boys became inseparable. Henri's reputation spread, and the older boys stopped harassing Julien for fear of the slim brunette boy's wrath. Julien soon found that Henri's political views were as radical as his own were, and they spent long hours discussing the state of France, and how they would change it when they were men.
All too soon, the term was over, and the boys had to be separated, going back home to their families for the summer. They wrote to each other every week, and it was not long before they were back at school. This year, they were both in the same house, and at age 14 (for they both had summer birthdays), they were considered in the class of the older boys.
In the higher grades, lessons began to focus more on classicist literature, art, etc. in pursuit of cultural literacy. Julien and Henri learned about ancient Greece and Rome, and began to learn Greek and Latin. It was something that Julien had always been interested in, especially the law codes, and Henri was fascinated by their anatomy lectures.
Their favourite professor was Monsieur Cheverny. Monsieur Cheverny had such an exuberant, lively air about him that neither Julien nor Henri thought anyone on earth could dislike him. He was their history professor, and he was an excellent one. He questioned his students, and made them think. It was not uncommon for Julien and Henri to be seen lingering after class, asking question after question, or still caught up in an energetic debate. He was their role model and, though Monsieur Cheverny would never admit it (for he was not allowed to have favourites), the teacher had taken quite a liking to the youths as well.
One day, after class, Monsieur Cheverny had a proposition for the boys. "How would you two like to go on a little field trip, just you and I?" The boys looked at each other and grinned, then gave rapt attention to their teacher, to see where this was going. "Now, three tickets to The Myrmidons have come into my possession, and I can think of no one I would like to take better than the two of you." Cheverny smiled his warm-hearted, good-natured smile, and continued. "This play is a very old one, written in ancient Grecian times. It is about The Trojan War. Do you know the story?"
Both boys nodded vigorously. "Oui Monsieur," said Henri excitedly. "Achilles refuses to fight and then his best friend Patroclus goes to fight in his place and gets killed!"
Julien continued. "Achilles is so angry that he vows revenge. So, although he knows his death will soon follow, he avenges his friend and kills Hector!"
Monsieur Cheverny smiled gladly at the boys' enthusiasm, but his expression soon turned grave. "Now boys, I must confess something. The translation that the school provides is slightly skewed." Both boys looked up curiously. "Now you must promise not to tell." The boys nodded solemnly, looked at each other, and said, "We promise."
"Alright. The story that you know tells of Achilles' anger over losing a friend. But have you ever thought that it seemed strange that he did not vow to avenge any of his other friends killed in battle?"
Julien looked thoughtful. "No, Monsieur, I had not considered this…"
Cheverny heaved a great sigh, frustrated with the world for censoring such a great piece of history, and taking away its true meaning. He knew he should not be telling these boys, but he almost felt that he must. He had been watching them over the past few months, and every day he grew more certain that their relationship would turn out to be something… more than friendship. Those boys were compatible down to their very souls. Even if they did not realize it yet, they soon would. He did not want these boys growing up confused about their emotions, or thinking they were wrong. He did not want them to suffer… as he had… "Well… perhaps… Achilles loved Patroclus better than all of his other friends…" he suggested, adopting his usual teaching approach.
The boys considered this, and then Henri spoke, puzzled, "Why that does not sound like Achilles. He would not have favoured one comrade above another, would he?"
"No, I do not think that he would have. But… what if Patroclus was not just a comrade? Not just a friend?" Cheverny prompted, hoping the boys would come to the conclusion on their own. He was a teacher, after all. It was in his nature.
Julien shook his blonde head. "Monsieur, I do not understand. What, then, was Patroclus to the Great Achilles?"
"Perhaps it would help if I showed you the original translation." Cheverny unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a tatter old volume. He flipped to a page that would prove his point, and let the boys look. What they read was at first familiar. They had read the story in literature class, after all. But as they read on, their eyes grew wide with realization. Julien looked up first, his face flushed.
"Monsieur… it says here that they were…"
"Lovers, yes. I wanted you boys to know the truth. Achilles and Patroclus loved each other, with all their hearts and souls. And no one should have ever taken that away from them, especially not some rotten government-censored translator. It ruins the story, and makes Achilles' pain seem so frivolous and far-fetched. It is not right. And they were not the only ones. I will give you more to read if you wish. Harmodios and Aristogeiton. Apollo and Hyacinth. Orestes and Pylades. Nisus and Euryalus. And there are many, many more subjects about which the King wishes his subjects would remain ignorant. Just promise not to get caught reading these books, or we will all be in trouble."
Henri and Julien simply nodded solemnly. They all sat in silence for a while, brooding over what had passed between them, and how it must never come to light. Finally, Cheverny spoke.
"Now, as to the play. The Head has agreed to let me take you two out to see it, seeing as you are my best students. But he does not realize that we will be attending an underground, uncensored performance. Please do not speak of it." At this he smile reassuringly. "It will be just between us. Promise?"
The boys grinned, excited at the prospect of rebelling against the much-hated authorities. "We promise."