The Pearl of Troy

Chapter Fifteen

Achilles put down his quill pen and sprinkled ground cuttlefish bone over the wet ink. The musical notes moved across the parchment like a funeral procession. Little pieces of the song had come to him while he wandered the dunes at night or sat by the fire strumming his lute. The tune wasn't his own composition. He was merely taking dictation.
When the ink dried, he picked up his lute. His fingers searched for the following line of the song. 
"That dirge again?" Achilles turned his head. Patroclus ducked to get through the doorway. Since Briseis left, Patroclus had the lost, pining look of a lap dog far from its mistress' skirts. "Who is it for?"
"For all of our damned souls," Achilles said.
The Greek cause was a doomed one. Their ranks had been decimated by plague and discord, rendering them helpless against the Trojans, who tormented them at night like a legion of boogeymen. It was nothing more than what they deserved, grumbled Thersites and other like-minded cranks.  They'd brought all this upon themselves with their folly, wickedness, and greed in coming to Troy in the first place.
Achilles agreed. They'd been damned since the moment they first set foot on this accursed land. This was the reason he'd held his Myrmidons back. Why fight to save a sinking ship? Especially when the captain of that ship was a craven fool who'd been willing to drown an innocent girl to soothe his pride.
Briseis' wind chime rang in the doorway. "Nestor and Ulysses wish to speak to you," Patroclus said.
"Tell them I'm unwell." Achilles continued playing. It wasn't hard to guess what Nestor and Ulysses wished to speak to him about. He had no interest in obliging them.
Ulysses stuck his head through the tent flaps. "You look well enough," he said.
Patroclus let Nestor and Ulysses in. "Come in, my lords," he said. "You're very welcome." He shot Achilles a stern look. Stop sulking like a petulant child.
Achilles rolled his eyes. Don't act like some prim old grand-dam. After dispatching a servant to fetch food and drink for his guests, he joined Patroclus, Nestor, and Ulysses at the dining table.
Hagne lingered around Patroclus' knees, bleating for his attention. Patroclus placed the lamb in his lap and stroked her dusky fleece.
"Isn't that Briseis' pet?" Nestor asked.
"Yes." Patroclus' countenance became grave. "She asked me to look after her."
"Poor thing." Whether Nestor was referring to the lamb or the girl, Achilles couldn't tell.
The servant returned with a pitcher of wine and a platter of bread, cheese, and fruit. Achilles bid his guests help themselves. "So what brings you here?" he said as if he didn't already know.
Nestor and Ulysses shared a look. Ulysses produced a letter with the triple lion seal of Mycenae. Achilles broke the seal and skimmed over Agamemnon's flowery greetings and compliments to reach the point. 
Agamemnon was trying to lure Achilles back by dangling treasure in front of him as if he were a fickle courtesan. A gilded dinner service for fifty people, a dozen jeweled goblets, and a gold and enamel reliquary taken from the temple at Delos said to contain a vial of Latona's breastmilk. On top of that, ten war horses, seven skilled weavers from Lesbos, and half a pound of Indian pepper.
Achilles scoffed. Agamemnon could afford to be so generous. He sat like a dragon atop a mountain-sized hoard made of spoils taken from better men. "Tell him to throw his table scraps to some other dog," Achilles said.
"Read further," Nestor said. He and Ulysses shared another look.
So Agamemnon had yet to run out of bribes? Achilles went over the next part of the letter to find what else Agamemnon was offering him... The hand in marriage of whichever of Agamemnon's two daughters, Electra and Chrysothemis, Achilles wanted with three castles, one in Argos, one in Tiryns, and one in Corinth, and all their lands and revenues as a dowry. Achilles crumpled the letter in his hand and then threw it into the fire.
How dare he! Even if Achilles were free, the last woman he'd want to marry would be some Mycenaean harpy who wasn't fit to tie Briseis' shoes.
"Does Agamemnon think my honor is so cheap?" Achilles said. "That he can threaten a girl under my protection, and I'll come back with my tail between my legs? That he can rip my bride from my arms and drown her as a witch and I'd just take it?" And Agamemnon and his brother were the ones who made a big show about fighting to rescue Helen and protect the virtuous Greek wives and daughters at home. "Ulysses, if someone called Penelope a witch, you wouldn't stand for such an insult? And Nestor, you have daughters and granddaughters? Wouldn't you do anything to defend them? Tell me, are the sons of Atreus the only ones who love their women?"
If anyone could understand, it would be Ulysses and Nestor. Achilles had seen how they doted on Briseis. They'd loved her as if she were their own flesh and blood. 
Ulysses reached over and put a hand on Achilles' shoulder. "Briseis is a very pretty girl, but..."
"But what..?" Achilles said. He should forget about her and wed one of Agamemnon's daughters? Give up his honor for a few looted baubles?
"There's no use sulking over her, lad." Ulysses poured wine into Achilles' goblet. "Do you know what happened while you were here sitting on your ass?" 
Achilles shook his head.
"Other men were winning glory. Last night, Trojan raiders attacked our supply lines along the coast.  Hector himself led them. We would have been completely cut off if Diomedes and the Argives didn't hold them back. The Trojans retreated when Diomedes crossed swords with Hector and sliced Hector's sword arm open. Diomedes is being cheered as the reason everyone is eating tonight. If he'd had the honor of slaying Hector, they'd be cheering him as the best of the Greeks." 
With his gaze fixed on Ulysses, Achilles folded his arms. He wasn't going to take Ulysses' bait.  "What do I care about Hector?" Achilles said. "Or any Trojan? They've never done anything to me."  They weren't the ones who tried to take his girl and his honor. "Please bring Agamemnon my final response, that he can respectfully eat shit in Hell."
Ulysses and Nestor's faces went pale.
Patroclus glared at Achilles. Just shut up!
Achilles met Patroclus' eye. Make me. "If Agamemnon wants me to come back, then he has to be the one to crawl on his hands and knees and beg."
Let Agamemnon be the one to grovel and plead, just like the priests he'd beaten and the captive girls he'd raped. Let him be shown the same mercy he showed them.