Chrissykat – Thanks for your review. Hope you like my take on the Achilles-Briseis story, even though I'm not really following the movie. I originally pondered posting this on the Books-Iliad category, but I guess I'm getting tired of hardly ever having anyone around to read things.
The First Blue – No I never read Daughter of Troy. After seeing your review I got curious and looked it up, so now I've got an idea what it's about. I realized it's a kind of memoir by Briseis, told in the first person. Were those the similar aspects you had in mind? I'm really curious about it now. Anyway, thanks for your review and I hope you like this chapter as well.
CHAPTER THREE
Many years later, long after you were gone, I heard a legend according to which your spear could heal the wounds it inflicted. I don't know that to be true, but perhaps the legend has arisen from stories like my mother's: you were as capable of killing as of saving a life, and you used the exact same set of skills and bravery to do both.
But I wasn't in a position to appreciate that back then.
As it turned out, your lieutenant was right: your swift intervention had prevented the worst, and although my mother had sustained burns to her arms and legs, they weren't too deep and she would heal. The lieutenant – who introduced himself as Patroclus, son of Menoetius – helped me carry her to my old room in the palace and brought me a jar of ointment, bandages and instructions on how to clean the wounds and apply the medicine.
The next few days went by in a blur. I rarely ever left my room, busy taking care of my mother. Besides, what reason could I possibly have to go outside and mingle with the enemy?
My self-imposed isolation was broken only by one of my former handmaids, who was sent to help me – by you? by Patroclus? I never really knew for sure – and by Patroclus himself, who came by every day to inquire after my mother's health and to ask whether I needed more medicine, bandages or some herbs for the pain. He always said he came at your bidding and relayed wishes of speedy recovery from you, but at the time I didn't believe him.
Still, I slowly grew to enjoy his visits. He was kind and polite and, to my surprise, seemed willing to answer at least part of my questions. Apparently, Lyrnessus had been the fourth and last target in a series of raids of what he called "a foraging expedition". You had based your strategy on speed, taking each city with a surprise attack and moving on to the next one before news of the presence of your army in the area could spread. I thought bitterly to myself that the strategy had clearly worked: no-one in Lyrnessus had received even a shred of a hint that there were enemy forces approaching.
As to what we could expect now, he explained that an oath of allegiance to Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, was being demanded from all the nobles, priests and heads of family. In return for the solemn swearing of that oath, most of the population would be spared and only a part of it would be taken captive.
"Obviously, the lucky ones who get to remain in their homes will be obliged to pay some kind of heavy tribute to Mycenae", I commented dryly, "despite the fact that after your 'foraging' they will be left with next to nothing to live on."
"That will be up to the son of Atreus", he replied. "When we're ready to go, Achilles will leave a garrison to hold the city until Agamemnon sends his own men to relieve them."
As much as I did pity the upcoming struggle for survival of my impoverished countrymen, I was more concerned with the fate of the ones who would be taken as slaves.
"What about the captives? Who will you be taking?"
He hesitated. "The usual. Women, some key aristocrats and priests to serve as hostages and ensure that the oath isn't broken, some craftsmen specialized in skills we need. All the warriors and members of the royal family, of course. And everyone whose head of family refuses to take the oath."
I had known from the start that, being the widow of the former king, I would be part of the enslaved captives. There was no way on earth I would ever be allowed to stay in Lyrnessus as a free woman. But Patroclus' last piece of information was extremely worrying: my father had passed away one year before and all his male successors had died in the battle.
"What about the families who no longer have a patriarch to take the oath of allegiance for them?", I asked.
He furrowed his brow:
"I'm not sure. That will be Achilles' call. Anyway, I suppose they'll fall into the category of the ones who didn't pledge fidelity and will be taken captive. At least in the case of the aristocrats."
That meant that my mother would be taken. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that she wouldn't survive captivity after everything that she had already gone through.
"Don't cry", Patroclus said, suddenly ill at ease. "It couldn't have come as a surprise to you that… I promise I'll do what I can to make things as easy as possible for you."
I shook my head. "I'm not crying for myself. It's just…"
"It's just what?", he insisted when I didn't finish my sentence.
I nodded vaguely in my mother's direction.
"Your mother? But she's doing much better, isn't she?"
"Of her wounds, yes. But her spirit is broken. She still hardly ever speaks. If she's taken captive…"
"I don't think Achilles is planning on taking her."
"My father and brothers are dead. We're one of the families without a patriarch to take the oath."
"Oh… Aren't there any male relatives from her birth family?"
"Not here. I mean, she still has a brother, I think, but he lives in Lesbos. That's where she came from."
"A brother in Lesbos? I'll talk to Achilles, see what he can do."
"Achilles?" I scoffed.
"Yes, Achilles," Patroclus repeated sternly.
"Why would Achilles do anything to help any of the very people he's enslaved?"
Patroclus suddenly became very formal:
"The son of Peleus always acts within the rules of honour. He takes no pleasure in causing unnecessary pain to the weak."
I scoffed again:
"Maybe so, but he's sure not to do anything to help me. He made it quite clear in my husband's funeral that he didn't approve of me. Not that I'm interested in his approval, mind you…"
I cut myself short and bit my tongue. I really needed to learn to control it if I didn't want to pay dearly for my rashness. It would be indescribably stupid to alienate Patroclus precisely when I needed him most.
"I'm sorry. I know he's your king and you're loyal to him. But… Well, I've expressed hatred for him to his face and in no uncertain terms, so I'm pretty sure that didn't exactly earn me a very high place in his good graces."
"You misunderstand Achilles. He may not be the easiest and most amenable man on earth, but he's not petty. Not by any means. At any rate, that's beside the point now. You're asking for help for your mother, not for yourself. I'll talk to him."
Patroclus' tone remained cold. It was obviously not wise to say anything against you in front of him. I just hoped that wouldn't prevent him from arguing my mother's case before you.
Not that I was very hopeful. The fact of the matter was that my mother's fate now depended on the good will of a man I hated and who, I was sure, despised me. Regardless of whatever Patroclus might say, it was highly unlikely that you would even take the time of day to worry about the problems of two lowly women slaves.
Well, I would know soon enough.
The rest of the day went by quietly. My handmaid told me there were rumours that you were preparing to return to the Achaen's camp at Troy in two days. I felt my heart constrict. The day of departure would signal the severing of every link that still tied me to my old life.
By late afternoon there was a knock on my door. My handmaid opened it and, to my utter surprise, it was you standing in the doorway: towering, golden – and frowning.
You walked in, bowed your head just the tiniest of fractions by way of greeting and cut to the chase:
"Patroclus told me about your mother's situation. I sent a messenger to your uncle in Lesbos to come and collect her. I know your uncle, I met him when I took Lesbos, so I specified a ransom I know he can afford without trouble. I also gave instructions to my captain Eudorus, who will be in charge of the city when we leave, to hand her over to him."
"A ransom?", I asked, flabbergasted.
"Of course. I must report back to my allies concerning the outcome of the expedition. I won't have them thinking I've taken anything for myself unduly. Everything must be accounted for. Besides… it would be humiliating for your mother if we just cast her away as though she had no worth."
That was a different perspective on things. After a long silence, I managed two words that scorched my throat:
"Thank you."
You nodded brusquely.
"We'll be leaving the day after tomorrow, at dawn. You have tomorrow to pack your things and say goodbye to your mother. She can stay to care for her." You gestured at my handmaid and, with another minimal nod, turned on your heel and left.