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"They are dying Achilles!" I choked out. The Trojans were in the camp now, burning the ships. The smoke could be smelled even in this very tent.
Achilles face was cold as I spoke. "I told Agamemnon what would happen, this is all his fault for being so foolish to try to destroy my honour."
"But last night-." He clicked his tongue and made a bitter expression.
"He thinks he can bribe me with some metal junk. He didn't even admit his wrong." Achilles said annoyed. "I won't try to please him like Odysseus or Diomedes, I am better than that. Better than them."
"You're right, you're right. But do not blame them for his foolishness. For they don't deserve to suffer death and pain for someone like Agamemnon." Achilles eyes darkened. I reach for his hand but he steps away.
"They made their choices, when they didn't speak against the man." The memory was still fresh, still stabbing Achilles. "They let him insult me."
"But-." I said horrified as I heard the fall of a ship mast near by.
"Patroclus. Do not speak about this again." He said his expression cold as a grave.
"Do this for me!" I yelled, my knees scraping against the tents floor. He looked down at me and I saw struggle in his eyes.
"I cannot! No one will respect me. Do you think I want them all to die?! My honour is everything I have left." My brows furrowed. Honour. Of course. He doesn't care about anything else.
He quickly noticed his words and clasp a hand on his mouth.
"Ask me anything else Pat." I thought of something I could do. If only I had the mind of Odysseus. What would he do?
"Then at least send me in your place. Put me in your Armour and I will lead the Myrmidons. They think I am you." He looked at me in shock. "Y-You won't have to break your oath, yet Greece will be saved."
His stare was sharp. "But you cannot fight." He stated it as a fact. And it was true. My hands trembled as I seized his hands in mine and put on a serious expression.
"I will not have to. They will be so frightened, they will turn away." I grip his hand tighter. "I will be alright, I won't go near them."
"Promise?" I nodded.
"I promise, Automedon will be with me and the rest of Myrmidons." He still didn't look fully convinced. "It will be your name that saves them, not your spear fighting."
"Swear to me that you will not go and fight them." I nodded again, this time with much more hope. He smiled gently.
***
Achilles help me buckle up into his bronze armour. It was uncomfortable and I couldn't see much from the helmet but I push through. I was to stay in the chariot with Automedon. When I turn to leave the tent he seized my hands and kissed me on the steel helmet covering my brown curls. I will be fine.
***
"Are you prepared?" Asked Automedon.
"Yes." And the chariot began to roll. We pick up speed on our ride, the burning ships now past us. I felt the wind snatch at my crest. We flew past tents of Idomeneus and Diomedes now empty. And, finally, the first bunch of men. Their faces blurred by, but I heard shouts. 'Look, it's Achilles!' They screamed in relief. 'Achilles has returned!'
And then, spears raised, mass of men along the chariot screaming in hope. I only smiled a little, too focused on the road ahead and prayed we would not hit a bump.
I panicked only when I saw the Trojans. Their faces in shock and disbelief. With a stumble of a chariot, we were amongst them.
Around us, Greeks howled in hope.The Trojans scrambled backwards, with terror. I bared my teeth in excitement as I saw them run.
But the Trojans were brave men, and some did not run away. Fear return to my face. I maybe did have to fight after all. I picked up two spears.
I didn't even know how, but I positioned my shoulder for a throw and threw the spear into the crowd of Trojans, hitting someone in the head. He's dead. I realized. I just killed someone, again...
Automedon was probably saying something, but I was too busy throwing another spear. My eye caught on a tall, muscular Trojan and made my throw. It pierced his heart and he fell. I was in shock and also something else. Around me the crowd of Greeks cheered and one of them gave me another spear and did I it again.
The Greeks pushed the line, Menelaus killing men beside me, one of Nestor's son screamed as he cut a man's throat.
Trojans scrambled away, Hector in their crowd, screaming orders. I turn to Automedon and stated: "Go after them!" Through his reluctance, he did it anyway. I grabbed more spears from the corpses and chased the Trojans chariots. Many decided to rather flee on foot. I might have stopped but the Greeks full of hope behind me screamed his name. I didn't stop.
I pointed and Automedon swept the horses lashing them onward. My spears aimed, and aimed and again. Spilling trojan blood on the chariot and me.
In the midst of the heat, I saw a big chariot, bigger than ours. In it a man, taller than any of our generals stood, full of rage, racing toward us. Sarpedon, king of Lycia. My heart beats faster.
His arm lifts, to aim his spear straight into my heart. This is it, I think. I pant and grab a spear, then Automedon screams something again and lashes the horses and we tear up the field.
The world spins as we fly to the ground with the chariot. The grass is rough, from the sweat and fighting.
There is no time to flee from Sarpedon, I grip my spear tighter, and imagine what would Achilles do.
But I am not Achilles. Something in me bursts and I cast the spear. It hits him in the shoulder and he falls, he doesn't move. His neck is broken. If there weren't so many men, I would have stopped and tear my hair from, what I have done. I killed son of Zeus. Divine wrath would surely come.
But the battle goes on. The Lycians, who see their king death, scream at me. I want to grab another spear but Automedons hand grabs me and drags me to the chariot, he fixed the wheels.
'We must leave.' There is something wild in me. As we ride in escape, Automedon drives near the walls of the city. Protected by the hands of gods but not with any soldiers. A child could seize it now.
I remember the dying Greeks, I once cared for in the white tent and think...
No more. No more.
***
I leave the chariot, so overconfident for what I am about to do. I climb the stones. Not caring about blisters or blood. I think of Achilles, his years wasted because of this war. I think of Helen, the woman in the wind.
I think of dragging her to Menelaus. Done. We can leave.
I climb, my hands bleeding from the sharp stones, i need to catch on, so I would not fall. I hear a voice, Apollo. He says my name and puts on a gentle smile.
I freeze in fear, a God before me. I close my eyes, as if to feel, I am not dreaming. I suddenly feel a gentle touch and he plucks me, dropping me below.
I scream in pain, my helmet falling off along with my armour. I tremble, not from the rough fall but from the vulnerability, for I am no longer the beautiful man everyone believes in. But Patroclus, name no one will probably remember. Exiled Boy of no importance. Will he even cry for me when I'm gone?
I feel feverish, sweat rolls down in waves. The cheering stops. A crowd of blurred faces stare.
Run, I think. But it is too late. A spear flashes out behind me and my breathing slows. It grazed my calf, making me bleed. Panic sets in me as I try to scramble away. The spear from behind barely misses me, only scraping a little of my side. and I turn around facing my foe. Which was probably not smart.
My blood runs cold. Hector. I stumble again and fall. I see him walking towards me. I grit my teeth, I'm scared. Death is near.
At least Hector will life, so its not so bad, I think. Maybe Achilles will survive after all.
He must live. I say to myself as I scramble backwards over the sand and grass. Let him live forever. Please.
He is close now, too close. His spear is raised. My palms grip the leaves of grass beside me and I pray it will be quick.
'Don't die.' Whispered a female voice into my ears. What. Without thinking my hands tighten around the sand and I threw it at Hector, momentarily throwing him of guard.
I moved backwards, and seize a spear nudged into one of the death Greeks. I quickly stab Hector. What am I doing! I panic, I don't want to kill him. My eyes are at horror as I see grey ones staring at them and time slows. There's ringing in my ears.
'Who are you!' I let out a scream.
'It is not your time.' She says. Her chest is covered by a breastplate from shining gold, she wears a warrior helmet and in her hand is a shield also from gold. Athena.
'I'm not the one you should be saving.' I manage to say. I thought of Odysseus and Diomedes, injured, running away from the Trojans.
'I have my reasons...' Anger crosses her face for a second. She probably thought: if Apollo can intervene, I can too.
'Did I just kill Hector.' I say before anything else.
She looks surprised. 'No. He will life.' I sighed in relief. A ringing comes back to my ears, this time louder and I'm back on the battlefield.
Around me Greeks are barely fighting the Trojans off. We're losing. I look into my hand, feeling a heavy spear in my hand. This time the tip is bright gold. I look up, as if I wanted to see the grey eyes again. She's gone. "Thank you." I whisper into the air.
A scream erupts from a man beside me. A Greek just got shot by an arrow. Another shoots down beside me. My eyes squint as I see a boy on the walls aiming for my head. He shoots again, only missing by centimeters.
I tighten my grip on the spear, and position my shoulder. I hear ringing in my ears as I cast the spear.
It hits. The boy drops from the walls down to the ground. His blood spreads around. My breathe hitch. That's Paris. I killed prince Paris. I froze, now fully waiting for the divine wrath, but nothing ever came. Instead angry Trojans came. I seized the spear of the dead Greek beside me, he won't need it now, and stood up, the pain gone.
Then the slaughter came, I don't know, but the spear sliced through them like if they were made of cloud. They sounded like animals, as their blood splurge on my face. I twisted the spear in one of the Trojans heart. He begged but I didnt stop. I couldn't.
So this was how Achilles felt, being invincible, invulnerable. One of them made a cut into my shoulder, but I ignored the pain, not caring. I only sometime wiped blood from my eyes to see their pained expressions. Greeks around me cheered me on. 'Patroclus!' They screamed. I didn't care and continued forward.
Soon Trojans retreated into their walls.
***
Achilles sat in his tent waiting for Patroclus, his eyes were dim, full of regret. It's been too long. He needs to see him again and tell him how dangerous and stupid of a plan it was. He stood up prepared to leave the tent.
Before he can even lift his foot, Automedon burst into Achilles tent barely catching his breath as he finished his sprint. Achilles brows lifted quickly, in distress. He searched for Patroclus, but sees him no where.
"What happened?!"
Automedon begins to explain what happened and he pants through out it. In front of him, the other man slowly fell to his knees.
"And then Hector lifted his spear..."
"I'll kill him, I'll fucking kill him!" Before Automedon catches it, Achilles spins into rage, he leaves the tent in search of Patroclus body.
He doesn't wear Armour, he doesn't need it. Only his trusty spear to finish the man he yearns to eat raw.
Around him people cheer and also look in shock. 'Achilles!' Odysseus says, coming to him limping. Achilles ignores him.
The battlefield is already quiet, the men only giving commands to clear the field of the dead. "Where is he!" In rage he yells: "Hector!", multiple times but no one answers. His rage compiles into madness.
"Hector! You son of a bitch! I'll kill your family and your city!" A bunch of archers stop him from climbing the walls, he casts his spear and kills them. His eyes slip into darkness as he returns to the beach. He will finally kill Agamemnon for good. For Patroclus.
It is a deep night and he can smell the pyres burning on the beach. He sees the Greeks celebrating, he has to stop himself, so he would not kill them. They don't recognize him.
He passes Menelaus and he finally sees Agamemnon in the centre of the agora. Before he can rush to tear him apart a hand stops him. Odysseus. His brows furrow.
"What do you want?!"
Odysseus chuckles and bows. "Calm down, prince Achilles. Prince paris is death, along with king Sarpedon and many other Trojans. We finally pushed them back along with the help of 'you' or should I say your 'friend'."
Achilles eyes are wide and he takes a step back. "Where is he?!" A small hope came into his eyes and his tone.
"Right there." Ody points to a man besides Agamemnon, drenched in blood. "The new aristos achaion, some might say. He doesn't look too happy, as I observe."
"Patroclus!" Achilles yells from the crowd and approached the other man.
"Achilles." Patroclus says in a distant voice.
Agamemnon wants to mock them but before he can say a thing, his brother Menelaus drags him away. The crowd of eager Greeks slowly leave the agora when they see there will be no fight between Agamemnon and Achilles. How disappointing. But some choose to stay for the love drama.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt? There's blood all over you." Achilles reaches out to touch the other with his hand gently but Pat moves away and instead grabs Achilles shoulders.
"It isn't mine." When Patroclus sees Achilles anxious face he reassures him. "I know how it feels now. The thrill of winning a fight, at being on edge every second. It feels like I am alive." Achilles relief of seeing Patroclus soon turn into worry.
"But you said you didn't like fighting, you said you wouldn't fight."
"It was necessary! Grey eyed Athena helped me. She will protect me. We can win this war," Patroclus tighten his grip on Achilles shoulders, "together."
Achilles heart made a flip. Isn't this what he always wanted? Fighting alongside his lover. But something in him itched, 'it's too dangerous.' He told to himself.
Patroclus eyes shined brighter as he looked at Achilles expectantly.
"Fine, lets win this war." Patroclus hugged him and he felt his reason to not fight dissapear, he just wanted to protect Patroclus.