18: press so furiously forward

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Hecktor

"We burn the ships," I say, rolling dice between my fingers as my father, brothers, and I, sit in our hall.

"It's a suicide," my father says, but he only means for myself. I feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon us. I do not know if it is my own fancy, or the eyes of gods as they watch my fate quiver on the balance. I do wonder what they shall weigh.

"We do want them to leave," Alexsander says, pacing as he does when attempts any form of thought.

"I am with Hecktor, half their supplies are there, and if he goes they will never be able to drive us back," Dion says.

"With the reports they are crippled with the plague, they'll never be able to muster an offense," I say, "It's the only reasonable action."

"Only if you do not march, your brothers can," our father says.

"We don't even know if Peleus will march with them, he may be as ill as the others."

"And none survive him. You are the best among us and still you barely escaped with your life and he knew not who you were," my father says.

"I would have said I would not seek him out should he fight, but now that you've accused me of cowardice I shall," I say, leaning back in the chair.

"It is not cowardice to avoid a fight you will not win," my father growls.

"Perhaps it is. Is that now how heroes are made, father?" I ask.

"You're absurd. No one has ever accused you of backing down from a fight, boy, quite the opposite—,"

"I finish fights father, I don't start them," I say, folding my arms, "We burn the ships, if Peleus fights then there are no odds that I'll even encounter him."

"We'll stay together, father, he is just a man," Dion scoffs.

"As are you," our father says, staring at me.

"One that will not fall tomorrow," I say, "Another day perhaps."

"Take no risks."

"It's war, father, I'm quite certain risk is essential to winning," I scoff.

"I have no fear of Peleus," Alexsander says.

"You'll watch out for him, won't you?" our father says to myself and Dion.

"We will. As I said, if we burn the ships they have no escape, or supplies, and Peleus has kept his troops upon them to keep them battle ready, they don't languish in the village with the others. If we can burn his ships, then we can slaughter half his army, in one day," I say.

"We will---," Alexsander beings.

"Ready your arrows," I growl. He knows I'm cross with him at the moment, "That's what you're good at isn't it?"

He says nothing at first, but nods instead moving to leave the hall. As he does he whispers such that I alone can hear "Avoid Peleus's son, brother, isn't that what you're good at?"

I tense but say nothing. He knows I think him an idiot. Now I know he thinks me a coward.

"Once the ships are burned retreat, do not risk our men at war with Peleus, Aias is a force be reckoned with—,"

"I bested him once," I growl.

"You both lived, that is not besting. If Peleus is afield as he surely will be, you will avoid him at all costs, and get our men well away from him. Arrows, bullets from afar are one thing, you will not win in a direct fight. Leave the bodies of the dead as was agreed, I don't care what warrior you think it is, allow their own to care for them," he says.

"I shall," I say.

"Of course," Dion, I'm sure equally incensed. Together we might both defeat Peleus. He has no brothers, and his father is old. His mother unknown though there are claims she is a sea witch. I doubt that. He doesn't look like a demi-god. He looks like a man. I've seen him afield. He's strong. But he is just another man. Not a lion as they claim. I don't even think the gods bother with mortals these days. I don't think we would be here if the gods were listening.

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