Alexis of Sparta (Book II) - Unedited, first draft*

ι′ - Deka

Ten

Odysseus was far more amicable than Achilles. Why couldn't I have been captured by him? He smiled more. Way more. And he was chatty—and the stories he told. For the most part, they were about his adventures and war stories, but he knew how to captivate an audience. He had a way with words, a trait, from what I remembered, made him cunning.

They sat around a beautifully carved table, with Peleus at the head, Achilles next to him. Patroclus and Odysseus sat on the other side, and me? I stood behind Achilles like a good little prisoner. My hands were once again bound, indicating that even though Achilles was trying to be nice to me, Peleus wasn't. When we showed up, he almost sent me away, if it wasn't for Achilles' insistence.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. I blended into the background, especially since no one paid me any mind. My sandals were the only discomfort. They were still quite stiff, and I wasn't used to standing for so long in one place. And there was an itch in the middle of my back I couldn't scratch.

"Must you make her stand like that?" Odysseus asked abruptly. "I didn't think she was a slave."

I winced. I was perfectly fine with no attention on me, Odysseus, thanks.

"She is Achilles' pet," Peleus said, dismissively, "I wouldn't have one of their barbaric women at my table, and yet he insists on keeping her close."

I rolled my eyes with a scoff. I was starting to miss those insults. So glad he was seated at the table. I almost forgot that I was a "pet."

"She hardly seems like a prisoner," Odysseus remarked. "She was roaming freely earlier, and she's dressed in clothes my wife would wear."

My jaw dropped. Odysseus didn't even bat an eye before he spoke so plainly at his host. Even I was starting to wonder if I was more of a guest than a prisoner, but hey, I wasn't not about to complain. If Odysseus wanted to argue on my behalf, though, by all means. I also wouldn't deny that I felt a slight tug of satisfaction watching Peleus shift uncomfortably. Clearly, Odysseus had some sway in Greece.

"Can we continue the conversation at hand?" Achilles' voice flared with indignation. "Or I will leave, ending this discussion."

Peleus sighed, the sound reminding me more of a father exasperated by his son than an ancient king. He took a hearty drink of wine, waving his free hand at the table to resume the conversation.

"Agamemnon has been requesting your presence on the council for some time, but you keep turning away the messengers. He figured maybe I'd be someone you'd listen to."

I imagined Achilles rolling his eyes. It was no secret he despised the Mycenaean king. He declared it at least once a day.

"You can't ignore him forever." Patroclus's voice was soft.

He wanted to go. It was written as clear as day on his face. He was a warrior at heart, but he didn't want to go against Achilles. The weight of his love and duty must have sat heavily on Patroclus' heart.

"I would take that bargain," Achilles sniffed. "He's a mortal. He'll die long before I do, especially if he goes through with this war. Besides, I won that sparring match. The decision has been made."

I bit my tongue. Achilles was still a mortal, though, perhaps not in the way that the rest of us were.

"Imagine what the people will say once you join the war," Odysseus persisted. "You'll be giving us an easy victory, and the legacy you carry will be forever remembered. Surely that's not enticing." He glanced up at me with his warm eyes. "Unless there is a woman who is stopping you."