Love and Sacrifice

ìBriseis! Briseis!î A young maid came running up behind me. I could hear her bare feet padding along the concrete floor of Apolloís temple. ìMy Lady! Briseis!î

ìShh, child,î I whispered as I shifted my eyes from Apolloís likeness, cast of solid gold, to the girlís face. She was sixteen, maybe younger, and freckles dotted her cheeks. Her hair was unruly: dark tangled curls framed her face where she wore an impatient expression and excitement danced in her blue eyes. One day she would become a beautiful woman and brighten a Trojan manís life, but I never would. I had taken a vow of chastity. I had chosen to love only the Gods. ìThis temple is sacred. What is it you seek of me?î

She gave an apologetic bow and looked up at Apollo. The girl grew quiet for a moment, apologizing to Apollo perhaps, before she spoke again.

ìMy Lady, King Priam has sent me to fetch you!î She spoke hurriedly. ìYour cousins have arrived! They have returned from Sparta!î
Ö

ìBriseis. Briseis, wake up,î A strong hand shook my shoulder and pushed the hair back from my face. A pair of chapped lips were pressed to my forehead.

ìAchilles,î I smiled, still half asleep as I tried to force my eyes open. I blinked twice in an effort to focus on his face. The first thing that I saw were a pair of blue eyes that looked happy; so unlike the eyes of the warrior that had first been there when I had met him ten years ago.

Ever since the Myrmidons had ceased fighting, Achilles had grown loveable. Their shields, their grieves, their helmets, their armor, all had become bleak and tarnished, but Achilles had gone from warrior to lover and IÖI had gone from being a Priestess to being Achillesí prize.

ìDid you sleep well?î He inquired. It seemed an odd query, especially coming from the man who had just woken me up.

ìI dreamt,î was my short reply. I knew Achillesí mind was on something other than how well either of us had slept since our last ërendezvous.í ìWhat is it, Achilles?î

ìI have been thinkingÖî He spoke and then grew almost pensive as if to prove his statement.

ìAbout what, my love?î I raised an eyebrow at the Greek soldier I shared a bed with.

ìHome,î he replied quickly. ìPhthia, my motherÖamong other things.î

A stiff breeze whisked itself through the encampment and into Achillesí hut. It carried with it the salty musk of Poseidonís seas and it ruffled my hair and caused goose bumps to rise upon my bare flesh. Achillesí hand smoothed the skin of my arms and took my hands in his. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing that I was.

ìThe tide would be perfect tomorrow,î he spoke quietly. ìfor sailing home.î

My stomach rose into my throat. Surely he wouldnít leave me here all alone at the mercy of AgamemnonÖnot afterÖ

I swallowed the feeling and smiled at him. ìAm I still your captive?î

ìYouíre my guest,î Achilles smiled back at me.

ìIn Troy, guests can leave whenever they want.î

Achilles gazed at me questioningly. ìThen we should leave.î

My eyes grew wide and a smile stuck to my face.

ìWould you leave this war behind?î I asked, and watched as the thoughts and emotions flickered over his face.

ìWould you leave Troy?î he spoke after a momentary pause, and I was left to ponder my answer this time. My eyes fell to his chest as I wondered what answer my mind would yield.

If I left Troy, I would likely never see my cousins, Paris and Hector again. I would never see Andromache, Hectorís wife, or their son again. I would never again see the inside of Apolloís temple and most of all, I would never again see my Uncle Priam, King of Troy.

ìWould you give up this life, Achilles? Would you make this great sacrificeÖfor me? To live this life with me by your side?î A pleading look was in my eyes as I posed this question, and Achilles placed a feather-light kiss upon my brow.

ìFor you, Briseis of Troy, I would give up every blessing that the Gods have ever bestowed upon me.î

ìEverything?î I was in disbelief, and I think that my eyes gave my every thought away.

ìEverything,î he assured me before pressing his lips to mine once again. ìNow sleep. Morning will come sooner.î

And I did. I fell asleep to Achilles running his hands through my hair and over my bare flesh, and with the image of his smiling face steadfast in my mind.