Take Me Home

Here's my two part unbetaed version as my New Year's gift to you for all your wonderful reviews. ^_^

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Part 17

“This is the second time Agamemnon had sent his call for us to take up arms and remember our pledge of allegiance to his crown,” a man of about fifty and with peppered white hair announced to his audience in the hall. His voice was strong and his poise was that of a man not to be reckoned with easily.

“And I had answered that call the first time. What else does he want?” Achilles answered. His face showed impatience and annoyance. He didn’t want to be there to discuss about the Mycenae King. As far as he was concerned, the matter was closed.

“His pride,” the same man replied him.

“That man has no pride. He only wants Troy for his own gains. It was only through luck that Menelaus and Helen had presented themselves as the perfect excuse to launch an attack on the city in disguise to what he has in mind. I will not sacrifice my myrmidons for his greedy ambitions,” the warrior snapped.

“And turn down glory? Wealth and power?” Neoptolemus interjected eagerly.

“What wealth and power? Do you think that that Mycenaean will ever share the wine from his gold cup? There is no glory in this battle. I will not waste one drop of blood for that man!” Achilles bristled.

“Agamemnon knows that without you and your myrmidons, he will not end this war quickly and possibly ever. The Greeks will never enter that fort while Hector commands. Whether you like it or not, he will hound us until you join his cause. Are you going to forsake the peace and stability of Phthia and even our honour by hiding here like a coward? Irrespective of what his motives are, this is our chance to make Phthia more powerful, instead of some countryside kingdom,” his son argued.

King Peleus clicked his tongue in disapproval of Neoptolemus’ last statement. Phthia may be small, but he was proud that he had managed to single-handedly protect this kingdom from the many threats that had plagued other realms. For now, even Agamemnon was smart enough to keep his cautions while he and Achilles lived.

“Let him lay his arrogant carcass and all those fools who listened to his honeyed words on the beach of Troy. I don’t care!” Achilles bellowed angrily.

He had argued often enough with Neoptolemus when it came to politics. Despite that the young man sprang from his own loin that was as much bond that they shared. They were too different in personalities.

“So you take Odysseus a fool too?” Neoptolemus retorted, unafraid of his father’s growing wrath. He almost grinned when he watched Achilles’ face changed.

All the councilors who had gathered in the hall were deathly silent as they watched the father and son locked head. This was no amusing matter and this was also not the first time they had witnessed it. It was smarter to stay out of their way especially when Achilles was losing control of his anger.

“That is his choice,” Achilles answered, his voice quieter, but strained.

“Precisely the choice you made to back out of this war because of that young Trojan whore. I’ve seen him, father. Pretty little thing too. Has he spread his legs that well that you’ve forgotten your duties to your own people?” the young man taunted, egging Achilles to a corner.

Soft murmurs floated around them as the councilors shifted uneasily by the turn of this event. It was getting too personal.

“I don’t deny that Paris was one of the reasons. However, I don’t trust Agamemnon and I don’t believe in his objective any longer,” Achilles defended himself.

Neoptolemus threw his head back and laughed a loud that it echoed throughout the hall; a mocking mirth played in his twinkling eyes. “You have grown soft, old man, and Paris is probably to blame. Really I am disappointed in you. Achilles the Golden Lion lets a filthy puppy fill his head with rubbish.”

“How dare you!” Achilles threatened darkly.

“Enough!” Peleus finally stood in between them, cutting his hands sharply in emphasis. “Let us discuss what to do about Agamemnon’s summons.”

“Do what you wish father. I will not lead my men into this senseless suicide.” Saying that Achilles stormed out of the hall. Immediately, a chorus of disagreements among the councilors broke out.

“This meeting is adjourned for now,” Peleus said. He went to go after his son.

Achilles was found seated alone on the battlement, his legs dangling over the side. The walls were built near the edge of the tall rocky cliff, giving it a good advantage of discouraging the enemies from trying to attack from this side. In desperate times, rope ladders could be thrown over and used as an escape route or emergency supplies brought into the fort.

The sun had traveled behind him now, but the wind was blowing against his face, whipping his long blond hair like the silk ribbons he wore during the celebrations. His back was straight and stiff, and it remained so as his grey eyes focused on the end of the horizon where heaven and sea divided. There were longings reflected in his unblinking stares.

Contrary to his calm veneer, he was really thinking about the war going on across the Aegean Sea, in a land once peaceful and prosperous called Troy.

Images of men dying recklessly, in blind faith to their kings that they fight for honour filled his head. Fools! There was nothing glorified about war; only selfish victories to gain and the amount of spoils to reap from this business; in another word, a brazen thief stealing in broad daylight.

Nevertheless, he also missed the action. He longed to feel his veins sing with adrenaline-pumping excitement and his skin yearns to feel the warmth of the blood from his victims as it gushed out from the gaping wounds he made. It was the smell of choking smoke, stinks from appalling living conditions and the sweat of his comrades as they fought side by side that made him homesick.

Achilles son of Peleus was born with a sword and a shield in his hands. His destiny was to attain immortality to his name; a famed warrior in the fields of war. That was all that he knew until Prince Paris of Troy appeared in his life. With the discovery of true love, a most powerful emotion, he felt that his entire life was stirred off course. He had never experienced so much doubt and confusion about love in his life; even in the battle field was easier than this. Paris had conquered both his mind and body. Paris was aphrodisiac and life rolled in one – meaning he couldn’t think of living without him anymore.

Being completely engrossed with his brooding, Achilles did not hear or see Peleus coming from behind and now standing just beside him. It was after the older man had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder was he alerted to his presence.

King Peleus wore his hair in braids and clipped with gold ringlets and fashioned topaz. On his neck, hung heavily with five thick gold medallions, similar to the ones Achilles had worn when he returned to Phthia. It was part of the custom to show his wealth.

No man spoke and neither gave importance to the previous meeting. Deep in each owns thoughts, they shared the mutual silence amicably.

The sound of the crashing waves below and the wind against their hair brought forth peace that drew one’s mind to see the problems more clearly.

“Are you happy staying here, my son?” Peleus finally asked.

This was a moment for father and son, not a ruler and his heir.

Achilles found that he could not answer the question immediately.

“Your mother had known about your fate before you were even born. I, for one, believe that man hold his own fate in his hand. Your heart may rule your emotions and your head say another. It is not easy to choose and it will affect your future. Listen to your heart for it knows you well.”

Peleus looked up when a particular eagle screeched across the sky and watched with admiration as the graceful creature swooped towards the water to catch its prey and fly away again without breaking its flight.

“Father,” Achilles spoke after some time. “Have you ever had to choose between love and your future?”

Peleus chuckled amusedly. “Every man will come to that point sometime in their life. It is one of the hardest decisions to make. You seem very serious about this boy.” Achilles nodded slowly. “And he?”

Again, Achilles found himself stumped.

“Then you must find out and you must weigh which is more important to you.”

Peleus patted his shoulder affectionately and went away, leaving his son to contemplate.