Thirty-One

The ships arrived at the rendezvous island by nightfall. With a troop of war ships, we moved slowly across the Aegean Sea, much to my disdain. Even at a slower pace, my stomach did not appreciate being on a ship again. At least the weather was mild, even if the sky sagged with the promise of rain the entire time. And there was no sign of Poseidon. That alone made the trip better.

As Achilles' ship rounded the rocky shore, the sight of Agamemnon's army took my breath away. The island was surrounded by ships from all across Greece. War ships with thousands of Grecian soldiers all aiming for the impenetrable walls of Troy.

"This is a sight worth seeing," Patroclus said, coming up behind me.

"What is?"

"For once, the Greeks are united instead of fighting each other."

He leaned on the bannister, focused on the activity on shore. There was a gleam of anticipation and excitement in his gray eyes that I noticed in almost all the other Myrmidons. War is what they trained for and they were finally putting those skills to use. All because of one woman.

It made me wonder what Helen would think of the whole thing. A war spurred on by her jilted husband to win her back. The whole thing seemed a little too ridiculous but I'd heard the men talking. The war wasn't entirely about Helen. She was an excuse for Agamemnon's plans. Plans Paris had, inadvertently, brought to fruition.

"Nothing like brutal killing to bring everyone together," I said dryly. I tilted my head at Patroclus. "And you're excited for this? You never did strike me as a warrior."

Patroclus' smile widened into a dagger. "Maybe that's what I'm going for." He nudged my shoulder. "I trained with Achilles, don't forget. Oh, I would never. Not with what I know about his fate. "I should go help get the shop ready. We'll camp here for a bit and then all sail to Troy."

Patroclus turned to leave but I grabbed his hand, the reality of the journey starting to sink in.

"Patroclus, wait. I...I know you agreed to keep an eye on me but..." I worried a hole in my bottom lip as he waited for me to finish. "Just be careful. Please. Don't do anything foolish."

Patroclus lifted his eyebrows. He placed a warm, calloused hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. "We haven't even started the war yet. You don't have to worry about me. I promise."

He slipped away before I could stop him. The hardest part about being stuck in that time was the fact that I had to watch everything unfold and I couldn't stop it.

I turned back to the island, swallowing the growing anxiety lodged in my throat.

The island was more or less one giant slab of rock shooting out of the water. Whatever plants called it home were tough and spiny, used to the hostile environment. Only the huddles of grass dotting the uneven terrain provided any colour. The shoreline was white and pebbly, not exactly a great place to set up camp.

Hostile. Rough. Those words tumbled through my head as a dozen soldiers on land scrambled to greet us. A few of them eyed me in a way that triggered the prey instinct to run. An island sprawling with war-ready soldiers and barely a woman among them.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder and Patroclus smiled reassuringly at me. "No one would dare touch you. Not while you're under Achilles' protection."

"So comforting," I muttered.

Not that that mattered. I'd been training with Achilles, honing my skill with the sword. I have to say, I'd gotten pretty good. I don't drop the sword anymore and I can hold it above my shoulder. My thighs stopped throbbing after the third lesson and, just yesterday, I totally caught Achilles off guard. He'd probably deny it, but my sword definitely grazed his ribs.

If any of those men tried anything, it wasn't Achilles they'd have to worry about.

I gripped the acorn, lifted my chin and stepped onto land, Patroclus lingering by my shoulder. True to his word, he'd been my shadow for the entire trip, whereas Achilles...well, I hadn't seen much of him since we left Thessaly. Only glimpses as he spirited across the ship, barking orders and discussing things with his generals. Patroclus never spoke about Achilles' confession and, not wanting to add insult to injury, I secreted my own tumultuous feelings away. There were many times throughout the journey where I wished Zoisme was there with me. To listen and help me work through this conundrum.

The acorn bit into my palm as I squeezed it. My friend was gone. I was on my own. I had to protect myself.

A giant man lumbered through the crowd and it was impossible for me not to gape at his sheer size. He towered above most men by at least two heads, his limbs thicker than a tree, his dark, curly hair oiled and well-kempt. He put the Myrmidons and Achilles to shame.

I wanted to shrink away from the beast that moved towards us, his obsidian eyes resting on me. Handsome, yes, but terrifying. Not even Hector would be a match for such a man. A predator waiting to be unleashed.

"What's this?" the behemoth man grinned, his dark eyes glinting at me. "A gesture of goodwill after making us wait so long?"

He barely had to raise his voice. It was so deep and clear that it carried over the men around us, settling around me like a black aura. Patroclus tensed, his eyes narrowing on the other man, which might have been laughable, if I wasn't about to pee myself out of fear. The behemoth man advanced another step and my brain screamed at me to run. The most I could do was take a step back—and hit something solid behind me.

"She's not your entertainment," came the calm voice of Achilles. He side-stepped around me, a wall between me and the rest of the Grecian army. "Anyone touches even a hair on her head will have to answer to me. Even you, cousin."

I blinked. Cousin. Cousin?!

The behemoth's expression softened and a rumbling sound that had to be an avalanche came from his mouth. He was laughing. The giant predator was laughing. I must have swayed for Patroclus was there, hand on my elbow, shoulder resting against my shoulder, steadying me. Completely unphased by the commotion around them, the Myrmidons continued their work, unloading the ships. The other soldiers nearby, however, gaped at what I was gathering to be an important reunion.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to show your pretty face, cousin," the giant laughed, swinging an arm over Achilles' shoulders. "We were taking bets, you know."

"I wouldn't miss this war for the world," Achilles grinned, patting his cousin's shoulder, "if it means showing who's the best Greek warrior."

The giant roared, startling my poor heart. I wanted to run, but at least he had forgotten about me as he guided Achilles further from the ship. "We will have to see about that. Come, cousin, Agamemnon would like a word. Bring your pretty woman, if you're so inclined. Her pretty face might quell his temper."

"Quell his temper my ass," I muttered, glaring at the giant's back. "Who does he think he is, talking about me like that?"

Patroclus sighed and, gripping my elbow, led me after Achilles and his cousin. "That's Ajax the Great, son of Telamon, Peleus' brother. Ajax is one of the strongest Greek warriors in the country. You would do well to stay out of his way." He paused and, with a look around, added, "you would do well to stay out of everyone's way."

Ajax the Great. Of course. One of the biggest, baddest heroes out there, only second to Achilles. Ajax was far more terrifying than anything I'd encountered thus far, which made me even more worried about meeting Agamemnon. If the king could leash the greatest Greek heroes, what kind of man was he?

"Right. Yeah, no, of course," I said, dryly, "and yet you're taking me to the lion's den."

"No." Patroclus smiled and, with his chin, gestured to our right. "I'm taking you to your tent. This is where you'll be staying until we leave. Then I'll be joining Achilles and Ajax in the meeting. You will be staying as far away from Agaememnon and the generals as possible."

That was a relief, though it did little to comfort me. If I was in even more danger there, among the Greek army, why had Achilles agreed to bring me along? Risky, and there wasn't a guarantee I'd even see Paris again. No. I had to go back to Troy. I had to finish whatever it was that I started. I was no longer the weak, whiny girl who needed everyone to help her.

I bit my lip and eyed the men around us. Most were too busy to pay us much attention, but a few glanced my way with a hungry look in their eyes. I tried not to show the nervousness that coiled tightly around my chest as I followed Patroclus to where the Myrmidons were setting up camp. They were on the very edge of the camp, a clear message that, while they were there for a common purpose, they were not part of Agamemnon's army.

We were almost at the tent when a lithe figure stepped into our path. His dark skin was beaded with sweat and that smile, that charming, intelligent smile was something that still haunted my dreams. The man who knew my secret, holding that power over me without even breaking a sweat.

The dagger was in my hand in a flash as Odyssesus stepped closer. "Well, well, well, I had heard the whispers through camp of a strange, pretty woman coming off the Myrmidon ships. It's nice to see you again, Alexis."