For the Most Beautiful (25 page)

‘So my condition is this: find a suitable prize for me in return, and I will gladly send the girl back to her home, make the sacrifice this priest demands and end this plague.'

He settled back in his seat with an air of self-satisfaction.

But then Achilles leapt to his feet. ‘And how are we to find a prize for you, glorious son of Atreus, when the prizes from the pillage of the cities have already been handed out?' he asked. ‘Why do you not, for once, listen to sense rather than your greed? You know that there is not a single prize left from the sack of the cities of the Troad. The men have been given their reward, and we cannot take it back. Send this girl back in obedience to the god's command, and I promise you, when we sack Troy – which we
will
do – you shall receive three and four times the amount we could ever give you now.'

The men began to cheer again, but Agamemnon stood up, laughing, and raised his hand for silence. They were instantly quelled.

‘Oh, Achilles,' he said, pretending to wipe away a tear, ‘you really do amuse me. Did you honestly think that would work?' He clapped Achilles on the shoulder. ‘Do you intend to sit here by the ships enjoying your lovely prize, the beautiful Briseis, while I give up mine?' He laughed again and shook his head. ‘No, no – we cannot have that. In fact,' he said, stroking his beard and walking over to the other end of the podium, then turning to look back at Achilles, ‘I have just had an idea – an inspiration from the gods, let us say. What better way to prove your loyalty to your king and your devotion to this cause than to give up
your
prize?'

He paced back around the platform and smiled mockingly at Achilles. ‘Since the gods are taking lovely Krisayis away from me, I shall make a visit to your hut, Achilles, and have
your
prize, the beautiful Briseis, for myself.'

With a single movement, Achilles drew his sword. Before anyone had seen what he was doing, and before the king's bodyguards could run up on to the stage to protect him, he had placed the tip of his gleaming blade at Agamemnon's throat. His face pressed right up against Agamemnon's, he hissed, in a deadly whisper, ‘Say that again, Agamemnon, and you will feel my sword in your throat before you've had time to curse the gods that you were ever
born
.'

Agamemnon had gone pale.

His bodyguards had frozen, none of them a match for the great Achilles.

The two men stood there, motionless: Agamemnon, his face twisted with terror, and Achilles, his sword-tip held to the king's neck, the blade glinting in the sunlight.

There was a long pause as everyone stared at Achilles' blade, and Achilles stared into Agamemnon's frightened eyes.

Then I gasped. The air around Achilles had begun to shimmer. It was as if heat were rising from the ground, blurring the air, and as the air moved and turned solid it made a sound – an unearthly sound, like wind blowing through water or singing against stone.

‘A god!' I heard the soldiers around me whisper, some of them touching their fingers together in the sign of the gods, others gazing up at the sky. ‘Olympus save us, it must be a god!'

I felt a shiver run through me as Achilles paused, as if listening to the strange music that was coming from the air. Then, slowly, he sheathed his sword and stepped away from Agamemnon, breathing hard, his hand still on the hilt, like a threat.

The air ceased to shimmer.

My heart was hammering in my chest.

‘You're a coward, Agamemnon,' Achilles spat. ‘A damned, drunken coward. I detest you. Was it for this you came to Troy – to sit comfortably in your tent, too afraid to fight, risking the lives of your men in battle and, when they return from the fight, to steal their prizes for yourself? Is this what you call war? Because it sounds to me like plain, simple
thievery
!'

Agamemnon was visibly shaking with a mixture of rage and fear.

‘This is what I'll tell you,' Achilles said, stepping closer and taking him by the scruff of his tunic, ‘and you had better listen closely if you wish to see the light tomorrow. Since you are foolish enough to take Briseis away from me, hear the cost of what you've done.'

He let Agamemnon go. The king stumbled, gasping and clutching at his throat. ‘You can take the girl,' Achilles spat. ‘I shall not prevent it, nor will you die at my hand this day, since the goddess Athena herself has only now told me I must release her to you, and I should be a fool to disobey the gods' commands. But if you think I am going to fight for you after this insult, then
you
are grossly mistaken.'

Achilles turned to face the army. ‘I have no quarrel with the Trojans – what have they done to wrong me? No, Agamemnon. My quarrel is with you, for taking away my prize, simply to satisfy your greed.' He was bellowing now, his voice cracking with the strain of his emotion.

He drew his sword again and held it up to the sky, his huge hand shaking in his anger. ‘And I swear by this sword and by almighty Zeus, who governs the heavens and upholds the rights of the leaders of men, that some day soon, when the sons of the Greeks are laid low at Hector's hands, you will have need of me. And then, Agamemnon, you will regret that you took away my woman, my prize and my honour.'

As he finished speaking, Achilles dashed his sword to the ground, so hard that the blade drove through the platform and into the sand, its hilt quivering violently. Then he leapt from the stage and stormed through the crowd, which parted in silence to let him go.

A low murmur broke out as soon as Achilles had left the assembly-place.

King Agamemnon was straightening his tunic and trying to regain his composure, and the crowd began to disperse to their various huts.

I stared at my father, hardly able to take in all that had happened.
Achilles … a god … And I am to go to Larisa …

‘Come,' my father said firmly. ‘Come, Krisayis. We must find a ship to take you home.'

Several hours later and I was still lying on Achilles' bed, thinking back to what had happened.

I lay with him
, I thought.
I lay with Achilles.

The words did not sound strange. They sounded as they were: the making and unmaking of my fate.

And what of my family – my father, my brothers?
A small voice said, in the back of my mind,
What of Mynes?

My heart beat a little faster as I put the question to myself.

Have I done wrong?

Have I forgotten them?

There was a moment as I lay there, testing the words upon myself.

But then I shook my head.

No. Mynes will always be there. But I promised him that I would forget what I could never get back until we can be together again. I promised to protect myself and not to grieve.

In that, I have done what he asked of me.

And Mynes would be waiting for me in the Underworld. He would wait until I joined him and we could be together always.

But not yet. Not yet.

Suddenly the door to the hut crashed open so loudly that I started, clutching at the covers. I saw Achilles enter, closely followed by Patroclus.

‘You must calm yourself,' Patroclus was saying, in a tense voice. ‘It is not—'

But Achilles was not listening. He had picked up the rough wood table, complete with the dishes from last night's meal and, with a single movement, hurled it against the fir-beams. It gave a sickening crunch and fell to the floor in splinters.

Patroclus approached him. ‘Achilles, wait—'

But Achilles was in a worse rage than I had ever seen him. He seemed hardly capable of listening. Lifting the gorgeous lyre, he threw it, too, across the room, shattering it with an ear-splitting twang of wood and string. The chairs went next, the chest of clothes, the oil-lamps – anything he could lay his hands on.

I froze rigid to the bed, watching in terror as Achilles destroyed everything in the hut with a single touch.

‘Achilles – you must see reason—'

Achilles turned on Patroclus with a furious glare that would have made a lesser man quake. ‘Reason?' he thundered, so loudly that I could feel his words vibrating in my chest. ‘You talk
reason
– to me? Try talking reason to that thieving, back-stabbing, cowardly
dog
of a king!'

He seized a nearby helmet by the crest and slung it against the door, which smashed shut, making the stakes of the walls shudder.

‘What happened?' I asked, my eyes wide.

Achilles did not answer. He was standing still now in the centre of the room, his chest heaving with rage, his dark eyes burning, looking around for something else to vent his anger on.

‘King Agamemnon is demanding that Achilles hand you over to him,' Patroclus said, in an undertone, keeping his eyes fixed on Achilles.

I stared. ‘Why?'

Patroclus kept his voice even. ‘Because Apollo's terms for ending the plague is the surrender of Agamemnon's prize – another Trojan slave-girl, by the name of Krisayis. King Agamemnon seemed to feel he needed compensation, and, well, he is resolved on you. Achilles claims,' he glanced over at Achilles, ‘that the goddess Athena appeared to him in the assembly to warn him against angering Agamemnon and so, he says, he is forbidden to refuse Agamemnon's demand.'

I paused to take in what he had just said. ‘I have to
leave
?' I asked.

Patroclus nodded.

‘I must leave Achilles, and go to Agamemnon?'

Patroclus nodded again.

I felt a torrent of despair rush through me, like a mountain river in spate. ‘But I cannot go!' I exclaimed in horror. ‘I cannot leave you – not now! Achilles, tell him I cannot go!'

Achilles hardly heard me. He was pacing the hut, blind with fury, his fists clenched, the pulse racing at his temple.

‘How dare that spineless swine try to teach me a lesson? How dare he?' Achilles roared, swinging a fist into the wash-jug and sending it flying to the ground. ‘Who does he think he is? Zeus himself? To have the nerve to try to tell
me
what to do! I am the son of Thetis! I am the greatest fighter in the whole Greek army – the greatest there has ever been! And he thinks he can humiliate me – in front of everyone! He thinks he can take away the only –' his voice grew thick and harsh, and he took a spear that was lying on the ground and threw it, fast as a bolt of lightning, into one of the fir-beams where it lodged deep, shaft quivering ‘– the only woman I've ever—' He broke off, breathing heavily. ‘I swear it, if it were not for Athena's command, I should cut out his coward's heart and feed it to the dogs!'

I slipped from the bed, wrapped a fine-spun robe around my shoulders and walked over to Achilles. ‘Do you have to obey the gods?' I said. ‘Did you not tell me that you make your fate yourself?'

Achilles groaned. ‘My mother told me this would happen. She said that you would be taken from me, and that I should let it happen, for it would be the gods' will and the command of Zeus.' He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Why?' he shouted, towards the sky. ‘Why must I choose?'

There was a silence. Then, distantly, but growing ever clearer, the faint sound of voices floated to us on the breeze.

‘Agamemnon's heralds,' Patroclus said. ‘They are coming.'

I felt the panic rising in my chest. ‘Don't leave me, Achilles. I cannot bear to be alone again.'

He drew me towards him and held me to him. ‘You will never be alone,' he said passionately. ‘You will never be alone, Briseis.'

He bent to turn my chin up to him. ‘I will send Patroclus to you,' he said. ‘He will make sure that swine of a king is treating you well. You can trust him to send messages to me.'