Warning: Please note there are mentions of abuse in this chapter.  Nothing graphic but it is a darker chapter, so if this is triggering, proceed with caution.  

Forty

Nestor kept true to his word. When Agamemnon, tried and weary from the first clash with the Trojans, dragged himself through the tent, he demanded I help him out of his armour and get a fresh bath ready. I had no idea how to even go about preparing a bath, and I'd be damned if I wandered outside to ask for help, but I kept that to myself as I figured out how to dismantle the leather and armour.

My dagger had been removed and I didn't see it anywhere, but there was a dagger hanging from Agaememnon's belt. If I could get that, I had surprise on my side.

"I thought you would have run away," Agamemnon said hoarsely as I unbuckled one of the straps.

"Oh, believe me, I tried," I muttered, "but your men caught me by surprise."

My fingers brushed the hilt of his dagger. I moved slowly, carefully, but Agamemnon turned to face me, his hand catching my wrist. He squeezed and pulled me closer. He reeked of sweat, leather and death and his expression was sneering.

"Don't try anything foolish, girl," he said, "I've only stepped off the battlefield and my patience is thin."

I batted my eyes innocently. "I don't know what you mean. I'm simply following your orders."

Agamemnon considered me for another moment before releasing me from his grip. "You were given far too much leeway with that stubborn fool Achilles. I see what you are up to, with your sorcery. Tricking him into believing you care for him. He's acting this way because of it and I think you are meddling to tip favour to the Trojans."

He turned to me again, his eyes piercing through me. "I will not let a witch have such freedoms. You will do my bidding like a good little slave and I may decide to keep you." His lips twitched. "If you survive the war."

My fingers slip from the next strap I was unbuckling. Slave. Witch. In truth, I understood why the Mycean king thought that. I knew the outcome of the war, though he didn't know that, and I had, originally, tried to sway the two kingdoms away from war. But that was all. Everything since we've arrived in Asia Minor fate had been spurred into motion and I was realizing there was nothing I could do to stop it. Everything that happened during the war would come to pass. I just had to find a way out before I became a casulty as well.

After I undressed Agaememnon, I plied him with food and wine in order to avoid bathing him. The last thing I wanted to do was to touch the man who held me hostage and declared me a slave. Touching his battle-marked armour was enough to make me recoil.

And so it went. The following days bled together and I settled into something of a tentative routine. Agamememnon didn't touch me but his taunting threats were increasing and I didn't fail to notice the way he looked at me, the hunger in his gaze. It chilled me to my core but I refused to let him see that. I had to find a way out of his clutches and back to Troy. I did what I was told and he kept me contained within his tent.

I hadn't seen the sun in a while and boredom was my ultimate enemy. No one came to visit except, on occasion, one of the other commanders whenever they needed to speak to Agaememnon. I remained silent and hidden, sitting as still as possible to avoid unwanted attention.

Fear was my only constant companion and it wore away at my resolve, especially when I heard reports that Achilles still refused to join the war. The Myrmidons were a fierce necessity to sway the battle in favour of the Grecians. Whenever Achilles's name was brooched, Agamemnon would throw whatever he held and direct his anger at me. The bruises were hidden. I'd stopped fighting back when I realized it only made things worse in the end.

One night, I stared up at the ceiling, lying on the hard mattress I'd been given, thinking of how I'd gotten to that point. Agamemnon's snores invaded the silence of the tent but I'd long since grown accustomed to the sound.

I had had a different life once. It hadn't always been easy but it had been mine and I'd had freedom. The helpless pit in my stomach was an ache that never went away. None of the gods had come to save me, and Achilles, for all his declarations, had yet to take me back.

And Paris... Paris probably didn't even know I was in danger. He probably believed I'd picked my side and was sticking to it. He wouldn't come to save me either.

I squeezed my eyes shut and then heard a ruffling of fabric close by. I tensed, only to hear Agamemnon's obnoxious snoring. It wasn't him.

"He sleeps so loudly I can hear him on Olympus," came a dry, familiar voice.

My eyes snapped open and I find Athena seated on the ground next to me. Slowly, I sat up and shifted so I was cross-legged before her. She was as beautiful as ever, her hair like ink in the dark. Her pale skin shimmered and her gray eyes sparkled. Just as Artemis had looked that night I met her, Athena showed her ethereal form in the moonlight.

I reached out and poked her.

"What was that for?" she asked, tilting her head.

"To see if I'm dreaming."

"I could have answered that," Athena huffed, "you're not dreaming."

I glanced at Agamemnon's bed, fear flitting through me like a frantic mouse. "We should be quiet. If he wakes up, he won't be happy."

I didn't need to say the rest for the spark to ignite in Athena. She reached forward and pressed a cool hand against my cheek. "I put him in a deep sleep. He'll wake up tomorrow morning having dreamt of a naughty dream about saytrs." She winked at me as I struggled to contain my laughter. "We can talk freely."

She sighed, her expression softening. "I am sorry for this, Alexis. I didn't think things would progress quite like this."

My confusion melted under the heat from a sudden burst of anger. "What the hell, Athena? "I'm sorry?" Like that's going to solve this shitty situation I'm in." I grabbed her hand, a pleading sob catching in my throat. "You can get me out of here. You're a freaking goddess. Not even Agamemnon would try to go against your wishes."

Athena sighed and, in a rare moment of comfort, she squeezed my hand gently. She studied the bruises I tried to hide along my arms and the chafed skin around my wrists from the cuffs.

"I'm sorry, Alexis, I cannot control your fate. You are meant to see this out to the end and, while I have sided with the Greeks and want them to win, I despise Agamemnon for what he's done to you. You have been through so much and your fate is now tied to the war."

She leaned in closely and pressed our foreheads together. I bit back a sob, the feeling of helplessness growing. "I do have some encouraging news. You will soon be freed from Agamemnon. Achilles has been resisting too long and it is costing our side the war. When the sun rises on the day the Myrmidons go to battle, favour will rest upon your shoulders. There will be loss but you must find your way back to Troy. He will help you."

Athena kissed my cheek before pulling away. I felt cold without her presence by my side, but she was right, her words were encouraging. Knowing that Achilles would go to battle soon meant my freedom kept me going.

For the first couple of days, my spirits were soaring. While I didn't know who "he" was that Athena referred to, I assumed it was probably Paris or perhaps Priam. I took whatever Agamemnon threw at me, contemplating my revenge when I escaped him and how I would get to Troy during a war.

But by the fourth day, my hopes waned. Achilles was still resisting and I didn't hear much anything that would encourage him to change his mind. Each night, Agamemenon came back, paler and paler. He didn't have any energy to direct at me, instead throwing all he had into battle strategies with the other commanders.

The morning of the fifth day, I was reluctant to wake up. Maybe Athena had been teasing me, playing some kind of sick mind game. The gods liked to play with us mortals so I shouldn't be surprised.

Agamemnon wasn't in his bed. I rubbed my face and braided my hair before climbing to my feet. Distantly, I noted that I'd been in the ancient world for so long I could now braid my hair, but the thought was dashed when the tent flaps stirred.

Odysseus stepped into the tent, wrinkling his nose when his gaze settled on me. I hadn't seen him at all since that night Agamemnon kidnapped me. I hoped he felt terrible for what he did.

"What do you want?" I snapped, relieved to find there was still fight within me.

Odysseus raised his hands and approached me like he would approach a wild beast. "I've come with good news, Alexis. Agamemnon has decided to release you. You're free to go back to Achilles."

My brain stuttered over the news, so my reaction was delayed. "Wait, you're serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Odysseus tilted his head. Then he dangled a set of keys in front of me. "Does this help persuade you?"

While Odysseus unlocked my cuffs, I stared at him, unable to find the right words to say. Athena hadn't been stringing me along after all, which meant that the Myrmidons were going to battle.

"What changed?" I asked, rubbing my sore wrists.

Odysseus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Achilles might not be the most clever man, but he does know how to manipulate people. He refused to acknowledge Agamemnon's authority and Agamemnon was the first to break. You are to be returned to Achilles in exchange for the Myrmidons participation in the rest of the war."

I turned to leave, but Odysseus raised a hand to stop me. When he noticed my flinch, he curled his fingers into a fist and let it drop. "I apologize, Alexis, for your role in all of this."

I straightened my back, my fear cracking. "Everyone keeps apologizing and yet I'm still here, trapped in this waking nightmare." I threw every ounce of hurt and anger at him. "I will never forgive you for helping Agamemnon hurt me. The next time I see you, I won't just walk away."

Then I turned on my heels and darted out of the tent, not slowing my pace until I spotted the first signs of the camp I knew would keep me safe.