Daughter of the Apple

Chapter 4: A Naked Man, A Harem and Whippings

Wordless though their exchange he could sense everything she had wanted to say just by looking into her dark eyes. She had fallen unconscious on his chest. Silently he picked her up, the man beside him, his brother frowned.

"Patroklos! Are you mad? We can't possibly take her back Lycurgus!" he called out to him taking his helmet off revealing long luscious locks of golden hair.

"We can't leave her like this Achilleus! You saw how they treated her!"

"Our men will do the same. Not all are tender-hearted and as chivalrous as you are."

"I can't tell whether that is an insult or a compliment."

"Little brother you have much to learn."

"Achilleus don't tell me what to do! I am my own man! And I know it is wrong to leave her."

"Whatever you say! Don't come running to me when you get another lashing!"

"Bastard!"

The older brother sighed "I just don't want to see you get hurt again. Do you know how painful it was for me last time?"

Patroklos gave his brother a fastidious look. He observed how his hair glinted like gold in the light of the rising sun. He saw the pain and worry in his soft green eyes (the only feature they really shared), ready to come out as tears, marring his fair skin. For a burly man such as he, it was unusual to see him cry and his heart sank to realise how much his brother actually loved him.

"I'm sorry Achilleus, I really am. But it's our duty to protect the innocent, isn't it? She's innocent in this whole ordeal, and we can't leave her like this."

"Sometimes I feel as if you could teach Lycurgus a thing or two about his own teachings."

Patroklos laughed. "That I can."

"Arrogance Patroklos?"

"Whatever you wish to call it Achilleus the old man needs a surprise."

~~~~~

Pyrra, is what they called her. Her movements were sturdy and graceful. Her smile was as mysterious as fog. When she danced it was like looking at a wisp of smoke rising from incense: lovely, graceful and whimsical.

Her golden long hair with its characteristic braid lured men into her clutches.

It was on a bright summer's day that a small burly man, the famed Odysseus, arrived at the palace of Skyros where Pyrra spent her days.

For the daughters of Lycomedes Odysseus brought gifts such as jewels perfumes and silks. Then there was the strangest of all...weapons.

Pyrra looked at all the gifts with the characteristic whimsical sparkle in her eyes. Her hand started forward, to touch the white diamond that had caught her eye. But her ears picked up the distant blare of the horns. The enemy was about to attack.

Her hand flew to large broadsword and her other hand ripped the flowing wisplike dress off her body. Before the crowd stood not the graceful sturdy woman they knew, but instead a naked man, a warrior. He was broad shouldered, well muscled (for the lines that showed his muscles were etched deeply) and his body glistened like gold. His beautiful features and golden hair, which seemed oh so feminine when he was disguised as Pyrra, had now a distinct masculine look. As woman he was only wisp of smoke, but where there is smoke there was fire. Thus the fire had been revealed.

Odysseus smiled.

"Achilleus...my old friend. Don't you find it shameful that you have been hiding like a woman?"