After Agamemnon's men dragged Briseis away, Patroclus went to fetch Achilles. By the time they returned, it was too late. The girl was stashed away somewhere her friends couldn't find her. They went back to Achilles' tent thwarted and empty-handed.
Achilles shoved Patroclus. "What kind of a knight are you?" How could Patroclus just stand there and let them arrest Briseis on trumped up charges? A knight should defend a lady with his life.
Patroclus steadied himself against the dining table. "This is of no-use," he said. He put a hand on Achilles' shoulder. "Getting angry will only waste time."
"Waste time?" Achilles pushed Patroclus' hand away. "If you hadn't wasted time, Briseis wouldn't be facing the ducking stool."
Poor, brave, foolhardy girl. Her mettle had shamed them all.
Achilles sat down at the dining table and cradled his head in his hands. Briseis' supporters jeered at Agamemnon from the safety of a crowd but none of them had the courage to try to free her. What good was being everyone's darling when no one would fight for you?
Patroclus pulled up a stool to join him. He filled two goblets from a wine jug and handed one to Achilles. "You know," he said. "You're at fault here too. Briseis wouldn't have crossed Agamemnon if you hadn't convinced her to spread that tall tale about the crows. Her well-being didn't matter. The only important thing was making Agamemnon look foolish."
"If anyone else said that, I would have throttled them." Achilles took a sip of wine. What was worse? Patroclus having the gall to say this, or it being true. "If I was there, I would've run the men through before they had a chance to take her." But would that have made any difference?
"Very well, what are we going to do now?"
Achilles raised his hands in surrender. What could they do? They pondered this question as they finished off the pitcher of wine. An accusation of witchcraft was as good as a death sentence. If they tried to make a case for Briseis' innocence, then it would just be their word against Agamemnon's. Better to go about it in a more underhanded way.
Patroclus suggested they bribe Thersites to find out where Briseis was being hidden. "A purse of gold and double rations for a month should be enough," he said.
Achilles nodded. Like a rat or a cockroach, Thersites to get into anything.
"Have Sauteur saddled and ready before dawn," Achilles said. Sauteur, a black gelding, was the swiftest of his horses. "And bring him to the pomegranate orchard."

Achilles rubbed his throbbing calf. He kicked off his boots and put up his feet on a cushioned stool. Might as well make himself comfortable as he waited for Patroclus to execute their plan.
"First, we incapacitate the guards," Patroclus had said when they formulated the plan over cups of wine.
Achilles raised an eyebrow. "And how do you suppose we do that?"
"It's simple." Patroclus grinned. "We follow Cressida's example."
So, to defect suspicion, Achilles sulked in his tent like a petulant child whose favorite toy had been taken away. To pass the time until something...anything...happened, he picked up his lute and plucked at the strings to see where it would take him.

The notes his fingers coaxed from the instrument ached with melancholy. They'd rang through the sand dunes the morning when Achilles learned that Peleus was dying. 
Thetis' voice always foretold tragedy.
Achilles stopped playing and put the lute down. He didn't want to hear anymore.
The jingling of the wind-chime in the doorway announced a visitor. Achilles pricked up his ears. Were the footsteps at his threshold the heavy, booted stomp or stride of a soldier? No, they were softer and had the slight drag of someone who walked with a limp and the hushing sound of a woman's skirts.
"So, here you are." Briseis lowered her shawl. She had the wide-eyed look of a frightened animal and her disheveled braid looked like a tangle of briars but she didn't seem to have been mistreated by her jailers.
Achilles stood to greet her. The soreness in his legs had eased somewhat. "How did you escape."
"The two men Agamemnon left to guard me nodded off." The corner's of Briseis' mouth quivered into a smirk. "They snored so loudly that no one could hear me sneak away."
All Achilles could do was laugh. She really was a second Pandora. "Then Agamemnon has every reason to burn you as a witch."
"If he doesn't drown me first."
This reckless girl scoffed at danger but she still had the frightened eyes and quivering mouth of someone who understood how serious it was. Achilles looked at his lute. Pray Diana that Thetis' dirge wasn't for her.
Achilles pulled up a chair for Briseis and she seated herself. "The strangest thing happened," she said, primly spreading out her skirts. "I encountered our friend, Thersites, stumbling drunk when my guards were escorting me to the privy. My guards laughed at him but I convinced them to release me long enough to help him to his feet. They couldn't refuse my request to give aid to a poor cripple, could they? Thersites slipped me a vial of tears-of-the-poppy. I put a couple drops of it in my guards' ale when they weren't looking and Morpheus took care of the rest." 
How she could accomplish these feats with her delicate wrists bound with rope, Achilles couldn't imagine. He took his knife from his belt and cut these bindings. Her fingers were blanched, their tips and nail-beds tinted blue. He rubbed her wrists to bring back the circulation.
Briseis squinted and rested a hand on her forehead. Placing two fingers below her free hand, Achilles checked her pulse. It fluttered like a startled dove.
"Do you feel faint?" he asked. The poor thing. How today must have tried her strength and courage. Though Briseis possessed the heart of a lion, she was but a maiden and had the constitution of a lamb. "Would you like some water?"
"Water...yes please," Briseis replied.
There was a pitcher of water on the dining table. Achilles fetched it, then grabbed a glass from the cupboard.
Briseis moved her chair closer to his when he returned. Her knee brushed against his thigh when she accepted the cup of water from him.
Achilles blushed and took a deep breath as he sat down. Such lecherous thoughts as the ones flooding his mind were inappropriate at this moment. 
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to be afraid," he said. "No one will hurt you. I won't let them." This girl belonged to him and he was responsible for protecting her. He wouldn't hesitate to run someone through with his sword if they tried to take her away.
Briseis' face looked pale and her mouth quivered. "I trust you." A tear rolled down her cheek.
"But...?" Achilles dried her face with his sleeve.
"I'm frightened what will happen."
"So am I?" "Frightened" was such a weak way of describing it.
"The great Achilles, frightened?" Briseis took a sip of water. "I don't believe it." 
Achilles moved his chair next to Briseis. She rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around Briseis and drew her close. Her comforting warmth enveloped him like a blanket.
Briseis loosened her hair from its plait. Reddish sparks danced among the sable-colored waves when the light hit them. She met Achilles' gaze with a pair of big, pleading eyes. "Do you think we'll get away with this?" she said.
Achilles had been asking himself that same question all day.
"If the gods will it." He tucked some of her hair behind her ear.
"Would you promise I'll be safe if..." Briseis' cheeks went bright pink. "...if I gave myself to you?"
"Yes," was all Achilles could manage in response. At this moment, he would have promised to bring her the sun, moon, and stars had she asked it of him.
She undid the fastenings of her dress. "Then I'll be yours." The dress fell from her shoulders.

Achilles rested his hand on the small of Briseis' back. The other fiddled with the button which close the keyhole neckline of her smock.
"You're certain?" he said. The button came undone.
Briseis took his hand and rested it on the gentle swell of her breast. "Yes," she said.
Through the thin linen fabric of her smock, he felt the heightened rise and fall of her breathing and the pounding of her heart.
He leaned in and kissed her. "Bed, Trojan," he whispered.
Giggling, Briseis threw her arms around his neck. Achilles scooped her up and carried her away to be ravished atop a feather bed as a princess bride deserved.
He settled next to her on the mattress. "Allow me." Briseis raised her arms, allowing Achilles to remove her smock by pulling it over her head.
Laid out on the bed in only her fitted shift, hair tumbling around her, she was as desirable as a goddess. Achilles pushed her hair off her chest and shoulders. He could scarcely breathe. Laughter-loving Venus, Helen herself must be an overripe drab compared to her.
Briseis sat up against the pillows and placed a hand on his chest. "May I?" she said. Achilles nodded. While she unlaced his doublet, he removed his belt. Briseis avoided his gaze as he took off his shirt and hose. Judging by her maidenly blush, Briseis was trying to hide that she'd been ogling him.
"See something you like,Trojan?" Achilles said. But, instead of answering, she kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. Achilles laughed. He would take that as a yes.
The laces of Briseis' fitted shift were tied in tight, little knots that were challenging for Achilles' fingers to undo. He was tempted to give up, reach for his knife, and cut the laces before finally untying the knots. But then, the shift slid from Briseis' shoulders. She tried to cover herself by clutching the fabric to her chest. Her blush deepened, and she turned from him.
"Briseis?" Achilles said. Was she frightened or uncomfortable? Did she no longer want to continue?
Where was the line between maiden bashfulness and outright reluctance?
"I'm alright," Briseis said. She let the shift fall from her chest and lay back against the pillows. "I want this."
Achilles left a trail of kisses from her neck, between her breasts, to her belly. Let Agamemnon, Hector, or whoever kill him tomorrow. He would die a happy man. "Open your legs," he said.
Like a little girl, Briseis did what she was told. Achilles positioned himself above Briseis and kissed her. Then, he untied the drawstring of his braies.
"Achilles?"
"Yes?" Achilles pulled away from her. Has she changed her mind?
"I was too forward, wasn't I?" Briseis stroked his cheek. "Coming to you like this."
Achilles kissed her forehead. The dear girl. It wasn't unbecoming of a virtuous lady to give herself to her loving lord. Just like an honorable man felt no shame in taking a woman who willingly offered herself to him. "As wanton as Helen." He fell on top of her again.
Briseis gripped Achilles' upper arms. Her fingernails dug into his biceps as he entered her and met with resistance from her maidenhead.
Achilles soothed her with a kiss. "Almost there, sweetheart," he said. Then, wanting to get this part over with, he went forward and fully sheathed himself. She gasped when her maidenhead was finally breached, and he was buried to the hilt.
His was the ecstasy of a hero who'd finally claimed the prize promised to him. A reward, a scrap of happiness, he'd earned with sweat and blood. Every bit as sweet as he could have wished. She whimpered his name and clung to him, surrounding him in her warmth. Their two persons molded together.
Her heaving breast provided a spot to rest his head after he collapsed, exhausted from his victory.

Briseis had fallen asleep with a smile on her lips. The first rays of dawn crept through the bed curtains to kiss her slightly-opened mouth as Achilles sat up against the pillows and rubbed his eyes. He smirked at the delicious secret this smile seemed to betray.
So the act hadn't been unpleasant for her either?
Achilles tried to wake her with a playful nudge. Briseis rolled over and pulled the sheet up to her chin.
"It can't be morning already," she said.
"They haven't yet rung the matins bells." Achilles opened the bed curtains and let in more light. "But it isn't too early for someone to notice you're gone." And Patroclus would be waiting in the orchard for them.
Briseis curled back underneath the covers. "That's not the sun. It's all the torches looking for a witch's pyre." She looked like a child hiding under a blanket so the monsters wouldn't get her.
Achilles smiled. It wasn't childish to believe in monsters only to think that they would be so easy to keep at bay.
He tore himself from the warm embrace of feather mattress and linen bedclothes and stood, shivering on the carpet. It wasn't too late in the season for mornings to be chilly. He grabbed his shirt and braies off the floor and put them on. Then, he fetched a tunic and hose from the chest of clothes at the foot of the bed.
"Get dressed, Trojan," he said. Briseis sat up and blinked at the masculine clothing he'd put in front of her. "Quickly."
She snorted. "Tired of me already?" Her arm reached over the side of the bed to pick up her smock. Once this first layer was on, the tunic went over it. A raised eyebrow demanded an explanation from Achilles as to why she couldn't wear her gown.
"They'll be looking for a girl. A boy will be less suspicious."
"Should I cut my hair then?" Briseis's glorious dark-brown tresses fell around her shoulders. "Do you have a pair of shears?"
Achilles sat down next to her on the bed and buried his face among the sable-colored waves. "Cut a single lock and I'll never forgive you." Short hair was only for priestesses and bondmaids.
Briseis untied the silk ribbon from her neck and gave it to Achilles. "Take this," she said.
A bulbous and misshapen pearl landed in his palm. The early morning light made the pearl shine. "Uh..." was all Achilles could say. He ran a finger across its smooth surface. Why was she giving him something so precious?
"Keep it..." Briseis took the ribbon and tied it around his neck. "...until we meet again."
Achilles brought the pearl to his lips. "I will." She'd looked at him with those bright, trusting eyes, and he couldn't refuse her. Still, he didn't have the time to consider if he could keep this promise.
All that mattered was getting Briseis to safety.
Last night, Achilles placed his woven garters on the bedside table. He tied one of them around his calf.
"Are those the garters your mother gave you?" Briseis said.
Achilles smiled. He'd told her how his mother dipped him in the River Styx as an infant to make him immortal but neglected his heels. Thetis wove these garters and enchanted them to ease the pain in his feet and lower legs after a long day of fighting.
It was only fair that Briseis get a token in return, so he tied the second garter around her wrist. Briseis stroked the woven letters. "Aut cum scuto aut in scuto." She furrowed her brow prettily.
"It means either with the shield or on the shield." Spartan women said this to their men before they went into battle. Either come back victorious or don't come back at all.
Thetis' affection always came in the tough-love variety.
Briseis kissed his cheek. "I promise I'll bring it back to you."
"Come Trojan." Achilles placed a cloak around the shoulders of this precious girl he was honor-bound to protect, especially after what had happened the night before, and held her close a bit longer. "It's time to leave."
Briseis put up her hood and left the tent.

An hour later, the camp was stirring.
Achilles leaned back in his chair. The storm would break any moment, and when it did, Briseis and Patroclus would be far enough away to be safe from it.
Let Agamemnon roar as much as he likes.