Spirits Forged in Fire

Once Briseis had cried herself to sleep on his bed, Achilles took a moment to sneak out of the tent. He secured his dagger under the hunter green robe that he was wearing, only for protection, and moved quietly through the camp, where only the occasional drunk soldier was up and stumbling around. He snuck around the great tent of Agamemnon, aware of heated male voices having an argument inside of the brightly lit shelter. He kept moving though, and ignored anythign that he heard, totally and completely uninterested in the furious kings ravings; in fact, a part of him took pleasure in knowing that it was he who had spiked the kings fury. Unnoticed, Achilles reached the edge of their encampment, and moved in the direction of Troy.

In the tent of the High King, Odysseus was tiredly trying to waylay the kings anger in favor of reason, but Agamemnon was not hearing it.

"My lord, she is just one girl. What matter is she in the scope of a war? With the world's most dangerous man as your ally, Troy will fall."

"That man is no ally of mine." The furious king seethed. "He insulted me in front of my army, and then I gave him what he wanted. I should have him killed!"

"But without him my liege, the men will lose heart. Here we are, preparing to fight leagues from home to return your brothers stolen wife, when said brother didnt even make the trip himself! The men need inspiration, and Achilles seems to be it." Odysseus explained, hoping the king was actually listening.

" We will take Troy, but then Achilles will pay for his insubordination. After Troy, there is no remaining territory still holding out. Greece will be one, and Achilles will be punished for his treason. He can have the girl for now, but then he will watch as I take her in front of his very eyes, right before I slit his throat. That will silence him, and none will remain who dare to stand up to Agamemnon."

"But my Lord!" Odysseus sprang up, in defense of the younger warrior.

"Do you defy me?" Agamemnon bellowed.

"No my King, but I warn you. Achilles will not be taken by you easily. If you incur his wrath, it is his sword you must fear, for many say Apollo himself guides it.. For your allies may be great, but do not allow your enemies to be greater. Take heed great king, for after this war Achilles would sooner return home with his men than see you dethroned, unless you act brashly to spur his temper. You are a king, but Achilles is a killer" the wise Odysseus spoke, and with a nod of his head, left the tent. Still inside, Agamemnon graped a clay washing pot in his hand, and sent it flying across the tent, where it shattered in pieces. Slowly, Agamemnon walked over to where the broken shards lie, and knelt down. Picking up one sharp piece, he grasped it in his hand and squeezed his fist until blood trickled out from his closed palm. As his blood spilled on the sand beneath his feet, Agamemnon whispered;

"With the gods as my witness, and my own royal blood as offering, I swear I will have Achilles at my feet, and his whore in my bed. I am Agamemnon, hear my oath. My greatest offering to you Zeus, will be the blood of the world's greatest warrior at your altar." With that, the king was satisfied, and dropped the bloody clay shard to the ground. He moved over to lie down on his bed, visions of his plan taking form in his head.

The defiled temple was still lit this late in the evening, Achilles was surprised to see. As he crept closer, he became aware of a man kneeling before the destroyed altar, his head in his hands. Achilles took position in the doorway, and watched as the man slowly rocked back onto his heels, and stood up wearily. The man turned, and saw Achilles standing before him. Although he did not draw his weapon, his hand sought in out, and rested on top of the handle of the dagger, in case it should be suddenly needed. Achilles held up his hand, and walked closer.

"This is no night for battle. I do not seek to harm you." The greek's words surprised Hector, but he demonstrated equal respect back.

"What need have you to visit a Trojan temple at this time of night, especially one which you destroyed in such a vile and bloody manner?" Achilles saw the wounded look in Hector's eyes, and recognized his grief for his loved one.

"I did not destroy it, those were the kings soldiers. I fight not for Agamemnon, but for myself."

"You are Achilles then. I have heard of you." Hector spoke evenly, no fear evident in his voice, his grief covered momentarily.

"And I have heard tell of you, Hector, Tamer of Horses."

"Why come you to our shores, Achilles?" Hector asked quietly, back still rigid although his tone was soft.

"I seek glory, as does every man. But I also seek immortality. You are a worthy opponent Hector, as I have heard tales. Agamemnon intends to see you dead before this week is out." Achilles spoke evenly, and no sign of threat was present in his low voice.

"Agamemnon seeks what he does not deserve. As long as I live, Troy will be safe from that king." Hector vowed, challenging Achilles to reply. Achilles, however, shrugged.

"We shall see how much longer that will be." Achilles turned and began walking out of the temple, but stopped and faced Hector for one moment more. The two men, one dark and one light, stared at eachother.With a nod, Achilles spoke once more. "You are a better man than he who seeks your throne Hector." And then Achilles was gone, leaving Hector staring out into the darkness of the night. Confused but yet strangely honored, Hector returned to the altar to pray once more for those he was sworn to protect, and for the soul of his lost cousin, Briseis.