Thirty-Three

The first time I saw Agamemnon, a week had passed since our arrival. One week since the kiss that unlocked feelings I'd worked hard to keep bottled up. One week of being cooped up in my tent, unable to leave. Part of the reason was my nerves about wandering around a military camp filled with hungry, eager men. Another part was Agamemnon himself.

Achilles had become protective, barking at anyone who strayed too close to me or looked at me for a second too long. He had changed, going from distant to overbearing in the blink of an eye. I had gone from prisoner to...whatever I was now. Patroclus was by my side if Achilles was off doing whatever military thing he had to do. Not that I minded. It felt reassuring to have Achilles' watchful eye over me in a camp full of wandering eyes.

Except, Patroclus had also changed. Ever since we left Thessaly, he had done well to hide behind a cheery, reassuring mask. But in the corners of his eyes, the draw of his lips, there was just enough discomfort for me to know that, while he had had no choice to accept Achilles' decision, it still hurt him.

To know that I had insisted on fighting for his love and then cave the second I learned how Achilles felt about me. The person I was becoming was not something I was proud of.

The armies were only supposed to be on the island for a couple of days. From what I understood, the Myrmidons were the last to show. Their arrival should have signified the start of the next part of the journey—if only the weather cooperated.

"No wind," Patroclus explained, pursing his lips. Sweat beaded across his forehead and I fanned myself. "We can't go anywhere without wind."

The heat was blistering, the humidity beading like drops of sweat along my skin. The island proved little protection against this kind of weather, though I figured little would.

Rumour had spread that Agamemnon killed a deer that belonged to Artemis, angering the goddess. It didn't seem to matter that I was there among the Greeks. He killed her deer and she retaliated. We were now landlocked on an island in the middle of nowhere. Thousands of war hungry men, all crammed together—a powder keg ready to blow.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," I groaned, desperately fanning myself. All it did now was stir up the hot air in the tent. "What are we waiting for, anyway?"

Patroclus shrugged, and handed me a cold, wet cloth. I set it over my face with a sigh. "I heard Artemis gave Agamemnon a choice, though he's only told his most trusted generals what it was. I'm sure we'll find out soon."

It wasn't soon enough, apparently. Artemis was wrathful in her punishment. Along with the heatwave came the illness, taking out many of the men. Achilles quarantined me and Patroclus in my tent, refusing to let anyone even breathe near the tent. With the heat closing in tight around us, it didn't take long before Patroclus and I had had enough of each other's company. All around us, we heard the complaints, groans and ailing men succumbed to the illness—curiously, none of the Myrmidons were hit.

"Can't I just go for a swim?" I whined, sprawled on the ground. It was the coolest spot, though it did little in the face of the heat. "It's literally right outside the Myrmidon camp. I'm not going anywhere near the plague."

"You heard what Achilles said," Patroclus said, through gritted teeth. He was stretched out on the lounging couch, one leg dangling off the edge. He'd opted for a topless peplos, his golden abs glistening with sweat. "That sickness is killing people."

"Yeah. Heard you the first thousand times," I muttered. I sat up, the irritation like a heat stroke rash. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Alexis," Patroclus sighed, but I was already moving, heading out through the back entrance Achilles had made for us. A moment later, I heard Patroclus following, ever the loyal puppy.

In hindsight, I should have been more worried about an ancient illness festering around me. Was my immune system strong enough to defend against something like that? It sounded like dehydration and heat stroke...but was there more to it than that? Those questions should have slowed my feet, should have made me hesitate, but the thought of diving into the icy waters was far more convincing. That, and I had a bone to pick with the goddess of the hunt.

When we'd first arrived, Achilles had ensured his army was settled on the very edge of the Greek camp. My tent was set among the others for defensive purposes. Though everyone knew to stay away from me, Achilles rightly didn't trust the men in the rest of the camp.

The water was deliciously cool, so much so that I barely contained the pleasured moan that escaped as I sank into the water. The crystalline water was calm, thanks to the lack of any form of wind. Down the beach, I noticed others had a similar idea. Those brave enough to venture outside took advantage of the sea around us. A small reprieve from our prison sentence.

"Are you coming in or not?" I asked Patroclus. He shifted from foot to foot, an internal battle waging within.

"Alexis, this really isn't a good idea," he pushed, though the water was too tempting for him to resist.

"We'll keep well away from everyone," I offered, grinning. "Just until we can cool down."

"Until we cool down," Patroclus agreed, though life was already returning to his cheeks.

With a mischievous grin, I splashed him with water and went flying through the water, shrieking as he launched a counterattack.

For a very brief moment, there was a glimmer of fun. In all my time in the ancient world, the chance to relax like that was slim. Regardless, I didn't fail to see the watchful eye Patroclus kept on the others before diving under the water to attempt to pull me under. And the lurking fear never truly disappeared, even when I successfully outswam him and threw myself onto the sandy beach.

Patroclus collapsed next to me and, for several heaving breaths, we laid there in silence. The sky above was a startling blue, so cheery and disarming compared to the carnage that was devastating the Grecian camp. There wasn't a single cloud, not even a wisp, as if Artemis didn't want to provide even a grain of hope for rain.

How had I come to that point? It felt like a lifetime ago since I first saw Troy's high walls, and had hit Paris with a stone. Now, here I was, among a Grecian army, imprisoned on an island all because Agamemnon had to hunt a deer.

There was something else...something urgent I needed to do. Perhaps it was the heat seeping back into my bones, turning my brain to mush, but I couldn't remember what it was. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to conjure whatever was eluding my grasp.

"Do you think we'll survive this war?"

Patroclus' question was soft, a notch above a whisper. My eyes fluttered open and I turned my head to face him. How could I answer that, knowing what I knew?

"There is glory in battle," he continued, staring up at the sky. Strands of hair and sand stuck to his forehead and cheek. He looked so young. A life with a countdown. "It is an honour to fight alongside Achilles and the Myrmidons. But I can't help but think that maybe this was all a..."

I reached over and took his hand. "It's okay, Patroclus. I'm here for you."

A shadow fell over us and Patroclus trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise. "Yes, please, do tell us, Patroclus, what you can't help but think about this war."

The voice was deep, authoritative and sneering. I shifted to look up, but the bright sun shielded the stranger from sight. Patroclus scrambled to his feet, dusting off the sand clinging to his body, while I righted myself slowly.

The man was ordinary enough, not as striking as others I've met. His nose was a little crooked, his dark hair was limp with sweat, and his beard, which would be glorious, glistened with moisture. His olive skin was blemish free but his eyes...his eyes were shrewd black pits that scrutinized me with such condescension, my shackles were already up and ready to fight.

"This is the girl Achilles cares so much for?" the man said, squinting at me. "How charming."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks. We were just leaving...beach is all yours, buddy."

"Such a strange tongue," the man continued, "it's almost like that of a witch." His eyes narrowed. "Are you a witch?"

"Please," I scoffed, trying to feign annoyance, "I don't have time for this. Patroclus, we should go."

Patroclus stood, rigid next to me, his hands clenched, though he made no move to intervene. So, I turned to head back to the tent. The man blocked our path, his gaze unwavering and, decidedly, unsettling. Calculating.

"You have no idea who I am, do you," he grinned, advancing a step towards me. "Then again, it's too much to hope that Achilles would educate his little bitch in the ways of war—"

Patroclus had moved before I could even conjure a retort. One moment, the man was standing. The next, he was on the ground, cradling his jaw. Normal men would have been fleeing with their tail tucked between their legs. The man laughed and spat a wad of blood onto the sand.

"There's that fight I've been waiting for," he grinned, climbing to his feet. "Ever the loyal dog, aren't you, Patroclus."

"You know the rule," Patroclus said. His fists trembled with an anger I've never seen in him before. "Not even you are exempt from Achilles' rule, Agamemnon."

"Is that so?" Agamemnon's face was dark, cunning, his eyes darting back to me. "I wonder how true that is."

I bite back a squeak. Agamemnon. I don't know when it happened, but every time I thought of Agamemnon, a giant, devilish beast came to mind. The king standing before us now was so utterly human and ordinary it was almost laughable. Except that I knew what he was capable of. In order to win, he'd stop at nothing.

"Join me. For dinner. Tonight," Agamemnon said, addressing me. "I'll show you things not even Achilles can come up with."

"Agamemnon," Patroclus warned. The Mycenaean king ignored the younger man.

"Does that ick usually work on women?" I asked, taking a step back. "I'm good, by the way. Tonight doesn't work, on account of the whole plague that's running through camp."

"Are you scared of getting sick?" Agamemnon's smile widened. "I have it on good authority that you are quite safe, girl. Artemis would never let any harm befall you."

And there he was, like a knight in shining armour...if there were such things as knights in ancient Greece and if he had that kind of armour. But Achilles was there, storming towards us in all his glory. That look on his face, the seething, murderous glare he reserved especially for Agamemnon, was on full display.

"What are you doing out here?" he demanded, storming past Agamemnon without breaking a step. "Get back to the tent."

"We needed to cool down," I snapped back. "We're going to die in that tent."

Achilles didn't back down. "You're going to die if you're out here."

"She's fine," Agamemnon piped up, waving a hand.

"You've done enough," Achilles spat, whirling on the king. "At this rate, we'll all be dead before we even step foot in Troy. You lay a hand on Alexis and I don't care who you are. You will be dead before the rest of us."

Agamemnon only smiled. "Your pet, Patroclus, has learned well, it seems." His eyes flicked back to me. "My offer still stands, Alexis." And, with that, he was gone.

I swallowed back the sour bile that tried to come up, and shrank under the storm brewing around Achilles.

"What was he talking about?"

"Patroclus punched him," I blurted, shooting the younger man a pointed look. "He's just angry...like the rest of us. It's fine. Really."

I didn't think it was possible to surprise Achilles, but his eyes widened as he appraised Patroclus. Was that awe? Pride? "You punched him."

"She insulted you and Alexis," Patroclus shrugged, nonchalantly. Only the pink in his cheeks belied the pleasure of being praised. "I didn't really think about it."

"While I think that was the most foolish thing you could have done, I, too, want to punch that man in the face," Achilles smirked, wrapping an arm around Patroclus' shoulders. "I will save any admonishment I might have had for you both. But don't think that Agamemnon will take too kindly to your behaviour." He glanced at me, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip. "And now that he knows who you are, you need to be more careful."

I bit back a sigh and trudged back to the tent that had become my cage. Story of my life.