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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

The morning of the last day of truce the Achaean kings held a brief council to decide how to proceed the following day. When you came back your expression was shut and sombre and I knew immediately what the decision had been. Still, I asked: "Are you going to fight?" You nodded once by way of reply, then said: "Do you feel up to braving a climb up the cliff again? I'd like to spend the day in peace and quiet, but I also want to spend it with you."

So we had hiked up the cliff and were now looking over the Achaean camp, that stretched below us from one end of the cape to the other. It still bore the scars of the bitter battle fought inside it. We could see the fence Hector had managed to breach being rebuilt in the distance and, a little inward from it, Ajax's crippled ships, where his men were working away to try and repair the damage and make them seaworthy again. Several huts still displayed charred walls and ruined rooves, and all soldiers who had once worked as carpenters or thatchers had been in very high demand for the past few days.

The pathways between the huts and the ships were dotted with men, resting, drinking or gambling. The limbs of some of them still sported white bandages that glistened in the sun.

The eleven days truce you had agreed with Priam had turned out to be as important for the Achaeans as for the Trojans. Everybody needed time to heal from those terrible days of brutal fighting.

Even you. Of course, the destructive impact of the events of the past month and a half didn't just go away that easily and you were still prone to deep mood changes, sudden fits of intense anger and, what was worse, bouts of dark, heavy gloom. But step by baby step throughout those precious few days of temporary peace, you had slowly become more stable, lighter, more like your old self. There were moments when you actually seemed to forget both the weight of the recent past and the dread of what you believed to be your immediate future and looked truly happy.

You weren't healed, not by a long shot, but you were healing.

We had also taken the time to talk, openly and at length, not only about the things that were still weighing between us, but about pretty much everything, and we had found our way back to each other on all important levels.

Yes, we had both been healing, but now I couldn't help wondering about the effect the return to battle would have on you. I could sense the tension in you since you had come back from council that morning. A growing void in my belly told me that the fear that had always plagued me while you were fighting was coming back, ten times stronger that it had ever been.

You stopped, gazing in the direction of Troy. A thick pillar of smoke rose from where I assumed would be the city's main square.

"Hector", you said softly. "Priam said they'd cremate the body on the eleventh day."

"And on the twelfth they'd be ready to fight if need be", I added. "But he made it sound like they wouldn't do it unless they were attacked. Why hasn't the council chosen to let things rest for a few more days? The longer the wounded have to recover, the more able-bodied soldiers the army will have."

You nodded. "True. But last night the watchmen saw reinforcements entering the city. A whole squadron, coming from the direction of the plains in the east. No chariots, no infantry, just warriors on horseback." You paused. "It's really weird."

Indeed it was. "Maybe they just chose to travel light?", I ventured. "After all, they can get the rest of the things they need in the city."

You frowned: "Mmh, I doubt it. Warriors usually prefer to bring their own gear, not depend on others for equipment. Still, I suppose it's possible. You certainly travel a lot faster if you're simply riding full speed than when you have to pull chariots and adjust your pace to the infantry." Your frown deepened, then you shrugged. "At any rate, that made it clear that Priam has been reaching out to his more distant allies for help. We can't allow them the time to receive enough reinforcements to rebuild their army."

We stood side by side for a while, staring at the smoke from Hector's pyre. Then suddenly you broke the silence:

"When it happens, you must go to Phoenix. I already spoke to him and arranged everything as I had originally agreed with Patroclus. He'll take you in as his daughter. Actually, he said that it will be his only comfort after I'm gone. He likes you, you know."

I shivered from head to toe. "Stop it. I don't want to talk about it."

"We have to", you interrupted. "It's important. You'll need someone credible to bear witness that you were no slave to me and that you're in no way part of whatever inheritance I leave behind."

We hadn't really discussed the oracle again, but I knew it had been in both our thoughts. The way you seemed to believe so wholeheartedly in it made me feel uneasy.

"I don't understand", I said slowly. "Remember how you once told me that 'the future is the definition of unknown'? Those were your exact words. I never forgot them. In fact, they made me put the way I used to think about fate in a completely different perspective. But now you seem convinced that not only the future is set in advance, but that some priest, or priestess, or soothsayer, or whatever they were, actually knew what your future would be with years of anticipation."

You turned to look at me, long and hard. "I did say that, didn't I? Well, I suppose it's true. The future doesn't exist yet, so it can't be truly known as such. But it can be guessed, within some limits. Mostly we just have to look at the way things are turning at any given moment to be able to figure out where they're headed."

"Yes, but what we're talking about here is a soothsayer who claimed to have seen your destiny as a grown man when you were still a child. That goes way beyond making a kind of educated guess based on current circumstances."

You shook your head. "It wasn't exactly like that. There were hints." You put your arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "Look, if you think about it, the two possible futures the soothsayer predicted for me are pretty much the two possible outcomes any warrior is confronted with: to die in the war or to make it back home. The ones who die in battle are usually considered heroes. The ones who make it back… well, many of them were also just as heroic, but the war or wars they fought become just a part of their personal story, not the thing that actually defines their lives." You paused for a moment, then added in a murmur, more to yourself than to me: "At least in the eyes of the others."

There was a shared silence. I thought about my grandfather and the way his whole life had been clearly defined by the wars he had fought, even though he had survived them to die an old man. Would the same thing happen to you if you lived? I shivered. Probably.

"Anyway", you went on, "obviously in my case the soothsayer made the whole thing a lot grander, with the bit about the 'greatest warrior that ever lived' and all that. But, well, on one hand she was talking about a king's son, so if course she'd try to make it sound as grand as she could. And on the other hand…" You shrugged. "Well, I already had a bit of a reputation, even as a kid. You know, the boy Chiron decided to make an exception for, coming out of retirement to take me in as a pupil."

"I see", I said. "And she could easily figure that there would be a war for a king's son to fight in. There is always one, somewhere. But if you really think that it was all just a sort of general probability guessing, then why are you taking it all so literally now?"

You let your arm slide from my shoulder to take my hand and we resumed walking along the ridge.

"Because, like I said, the part about the two potential outcomes is obviously true for anyone fighting in a war. And I can see which of those two paths I'm in."

Your tone was flat, matter-of-fact. You might as well be saying that the sun was shining. I shivered again.

"Don't make it sound like you're stating the obvious", I objected. "Paths can always be walked in both directions. If you realize you're going in the wrong one, you just have to turn back."

You looked at me, a genuine smile lighting your face. "Are you willing to defy fate itself for me?" I opened my mouth to reply, but you shushed me. "I know, I know. You're afraid I'm letting myself get so wrapped up in the oracle that I'll turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy. But I'm not."

"Yes, you are", I cried out. "When you started, how was it that you said?, 'teaching yourself not to flee' from whatever came your way, you were actually putting your life in danger. That alone could have already turned that accursed oracle into a self-fulfilling prophecy."

You looked pensive for a moment. "That's true. It could have happened. But I already told you I won't do it anymore. I won't do anything to precipitate any kind of fatal destiny, one way or the other. But it's not as simple as turning back from the unwanted path, as you were saying." You paused, searching for the right words. "Look, Briseis, I've been at this it seems like forever. In this war, I mean. After that last battle, I honestly think I've seen it all. I've done it all. Throughout the years, I've learned that there are things… signs, hints that a man has gone over his limit, has reached his breaking point and actually broke. Those men, even when they survive, they're never the same again. Many of them end up taking their own lives anyway, or ruining them to the point where…" It was your turn to shiver from head to toe. I looked up to scan your face, but you had already recovered your self-control. "I can see those signs in me. I told you the other day that I had changed, in ways that I couldn't even understand myself. It's true. The fact that I'm feeling a lot better now doesn't change that. Tomorrow I'll be going back and, to be honest, I'm petrified. Not because of the possibility of being killed, but because of what may rise in me again."

We stopped, looking into each other's eyes.

"Are you afraid you'll enjoy the killing again?", I whispered.

You shook your head: "Not just that. I'm afraid of everything I can do."