Ancient Evenings

CHAPTER EIGHT

Achilles Back in the Fold

Patrocles' corpse was barely recognizable and poor Achilles was inconsolable. He paced to and fro before the corpse of his once beautiful companion.

Between the tears he managed to say: "Where is my armor?"

Those that had recovered the corpse wouldn't answer. Finally, one of the soldiers told him that Hector, Patrocles' nemesis, had stripped the body and taken the armor as spoils. Achilles was silent for a moment and then flew into another rage. He commanded all to leave his tent.

I returned a few hours later. The mighty warrior sat in the middle of his tent, everything about him was torn or broken. Tears streaked his face.

I place a hand on his shoulder. "He died bravely," I said. It was all I could think to say.

"My armor," sobbed Achilles. "My armor. I've lost the best bottom I've ever had and my armor!" Achilles had only a few weeks of life left. I never saw him smile again.

My consolation was futile and Achilles asked me to leave. I wandered through the camp, homeless for a day until I spotted a friend of mine. A bright, cheerful girl that was servicing some king from a tiny island in the middle of nowhere. Essa brought me into her tent and I met Odysseus who, in the privacy of his tent, constantly bemoaned the uselessness of this foreign adventure. He had harsh words for Agamemnon and repeatedly referred to Menelaus as a 'putz'. I assume it's a derogatory Greek word.

Odysseus was a handsome, thin, sinewy man. Unlike Achilles, he had a rugged beauty to accompany his natural intelligence. He asked more questions than he answered and could speak for hours without giving away anything he wanted kept secret. An intriguing man. Much better company than Achilles and not easily manipulated.

On my second night, he bedded me. I never thought we'd begin. Essa and I were on his bed, waiting for him. Instead of enjoying our favors, he spoke for more than an hour. He spoke of home and of his faithful wife, Penelope. I almost fell into the arms of Morpheus before he came to bed.

It was my fourth day with Odysseus. I awoke to quite the camp ruckus. A wave of cheers to washed over the entire camp. I threw on a tunic and rushed outside with Essa and Odysseus. I could see nothing. Odysseus hailed a passerby.

"What is it?"

The man smiled. "Achilles has returned to the battle."

I hate it when the weak willed display backbone.