Patroclus and Achilles

Agamemnon's pride

Odysseus was looking at the man in the chair, who was biting the nail of his index finger. Over the past few weeks, Odysseus had noticed a lot of the mannerisms and oddities of King Agamemnon. Biting his nail meant that he was nervous.

He should be - Achilles was arriving soon. And even though Achilles had agreed to fight, Agamemnon was not Achilles' King. Having met the Prince himself a few times, Odysseus knew exactly how sensitive Achilles was to being told what to do. Odysseus had tried to talk to Agamemnon about this, but he would not hear it. All Achilles had to do was kneel, he had said while he waved his hand impatiently.

The men gathered outside, since everyone was sick of staying in their tents and they saw boats arriving. Whispers went among them, talking about the mighty half-god. Agamemnon sighed and stood up. Odysseus shot him a look but Agamemnon rolled his eyes and walked out of the tent.

The soldiers exited the boat and made their way through the sand. Some were grinning at the other men, saluting them, while others cast their eyes downward, not making eye contact. They were wearing identical armour, all except Achilles and Patroclus. Achilles was wearing a silk tunic with a dark red cape. His dark blonde hair was loosely tied so it fell just below his shoulders, touching his shoulder blades as it moved in the wind. He smiled at the other men and waved at some, but in a polite way, not arrogant. Odysseus saw Agamemnon's eyes narrow.

At last, Achilles looked over at Patroclus, who was wearing some of Achilles' clothes, with a cape as well. He never wore it like Achilles though, never looked as divine as him, even though he was a handsome man. Patroclus looked through the crowd, as if he was calculating and analyzing the situation. Odysseus had warned Agamemnon about him, told him that Patroclus was a clever boy and less naive than Achilles. Furthermore, the thing he cared most about was Achilles so he advised Agamemnon to think about his decisions wisely if they concerned him. 

Agamemnon had huffed. 'He's only Achilles'...' He struggled to find the word. 'He means nothing. He is an exile, and only shares a bed with him from time to time, I hear. Look at him. What's so special about him that the Aristos Achaion chooses him?'

Odysseus didn't know. He had bit his lip in response, and tried to retrieve the memory of all the times he had met Patroclus. He had liked the boy - Patroclus had been a little boy when he had first met him, and even a blind man could see that he was mesmerised by young Achilles. But wasn't every boy? Wasn't every boy in Peleus' castle gaping at him every time he walked by, placing themselves next to him during breakfast, hoping to get chosen? Hoping to become Achilles' companion? 

But Achilles had chosen Patroclus. They are soulmates, Peleus had told Odysseus when the latter had asked him about it. Odysseus had shrugged back then and told the King that no such thing existed.

But now he saw the way Achilles was looking at Patroclus, gazing at him as Patroclus went off board, gazing the coast line for unknown people, enemies, searching the beach with protective eyes. If there was something or someone that would like to threaten or attack Patroclus right now, Achilles would have already spotted it and possibly killed it within seconds.

Achilles straightened his back and walked straight towards Agamemnon. Odysseus heard Agamemnon hold his breath. 

Achilles stopped and stood before him. They were the same height, but years apart in age. Agamemnon remained silent, expecting Achilles to bow or kneel for him. No such thing happened. Patroclus caught up and stood besides Achilles. He nodded at Odysseus, who smiled back.

Achilles gazed at Agamemnon, the corner of his mouth slightly raised. Finally, he spoke.

'I have brought my best men, and also some gifts.' He waved his hand at the boat. 'They are stacked in there.' He spoke very clearly, but in a polite way.