"Patroklos, why can’t you understand?” Achilles said. He’d met his cousin returning from the Greek camp and the two of them were walking side by side down the beach as they argued. “I may have a chance to change my fate, and I intend to take the chance.”
“I do understand.” Patroklos stopped and faced Achilles. “I, too, want your fate to change. But that doesn’t mean you can’t lead our men in battle. It simply means you need to stay away from Hector. It’s only after you kill him that you’re fated to die.”
Achilles shook his head. “Battle is as simple as chaos. Saying I simply need to stay away from one of the Trojan warriors is well and good when I’m not possessed by the berserker in the middle of the smoke and blood and confusion of battle.”
“I’ll help you. All the Myrmidons will help you. We’ll be sure Hector gets nowhere near you.”
Achilles smiled and cuffed Patroklos playfully. “If you intend to nursemaid me, how am I supposed to lead anyone in battle?”
Patroklos moved away and said sharply, “This is not a jesting matter.”
“Do you think I jest about my fate?”
“No.” Patroklos sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Nor do I take the prophesy lightly. The last thing I want is your death, cousin.”
“But you’ve grown accustomed to it.” Patroklos began to protest, but Achilles cut him off. “I’d become accustomed to it, too. I was to die before I saw thirty summers, at the gates of Troy, after I killed Hector, but my name was to live on for centuries. It was the choice I made, and when I was young, glory and the immortality of my name were all I thought of. Then I grew older and understood the nature of what I’d chosen and I knew regret, but my fate was a boulder rolling down a mountainside. I could only travel with it. Then she came and everything began to change.”
“Yes! That is exactly my point. Everything is changed now. The goddesses plucked Katrina and Jacqueline’s souls from another world, another time, and brought them here to change everything. How could they then allow your death?”
“Perhaps because I’d been foolish enough to ignore all that they sent me and blundered heedlessly back into battle?”
“Achilles, you said that today you kept the berserker from possessing you. That had to be a gift from the goddesses. Couldn’t they mean for you to use it in battle? To have the ability to fight and lead us without losing yourself to the berserker?”
“My gift is Katrina. She has enabled me to withstand the berserker. And she will not be going into battle with me. Ever.” He put his hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I want that to be more than a short span of days.”
Exasperated, Patroklos shouted, “I love Jacqueline! But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fight for the glory of Greece.”
“You would not be fighting for the glory of Greece. You would be fighting for the glory of Agamemnon.”
“That’s not how history will remember this war,” Patroklos said.
“History be damned! I’ve had enough of living for what will or won’t be said of me in the future.”
“The men need your help, Achilles. You could save lives.”
“I have saved lives,” Achilles said between gritted teeth as he stared out at the moonlit ocean. “Over and over again Agamemnon has used me to fight his battles. For once I choose to save my own life. For once I have a chance at a future I’ve only dreamed of. I will not throw that away—not for Agamemnon and his greed.”
“That isn’t how I see it,” Patroklos said. “I wouldn’t be fighting for Agamemnon. I’d be fighting for Greece.”
“If you’re foolish enough to take a chance with your life and throw away the goddess-given love with which you’ve been gifted, then fight! I’m not stopping you.” Achilles turned and began walking away down the beach.
“The men won’t follow my lead!” Patroklos shouted at his back. “They’ll only follow you. I am not Achilles!”
“Would that you were!” Achilles called over his shoulder. “Then I would gladly live your long, fruitful life, and you could charge onto the battlefield with your hard head to your vainglorious death!”
Patroklos watched his cousin stride away and then he picked up a conch shell and, with a cry of frustration, hurled it into the sea. “And he calls me hardheaded,” he muttered to himself as he paced back and forth at the edge of the surf. “I don’t know why he’s ever bothered to wear that golden helmet. As damnably thick-skulled as he is no sword could possibly harm him.” The young warrior wanted to howl with anger. Why wouldn’t Achilles see reason? Leading the Greeks one more time into battle—the final battle of the Trojan War—wouldn’t cause his death. The goddesses had changed things. They certainly wouldn’t allow all their efforts to be wasted. And Patroklos was truly grateful. Not only did he believe his cousin would live, but he had found the woman of his dreams. He wasn’t throwing Jacqueline away by wanting to fight. He was embracing his honor. And anyway, she’d be there waiting for him. Afterward she’d bandage his wounds, and take him into her soft body and heal him.
But there would be no honorable last battle. If Achilles wasn’t there to lead the Myrmidons, they wouldn’t fight, and even with Odysseus’s sudden brilliance on the battlefield the war would continue to drag on and on. “I do wish I was Achilles—just for one day,” Patroklos said.
“You know, darling, that’s not a half-bad idea,” Venus said, as she materialized in a cloud of glittering smoke beside him.
“Goddess!” Patroklos gasped and dropped to one knee, bowing his head to her.
“Arise, Patroklos, and let me look at you.”
“Goddess?” Patroklos asked, obviously confused, but rising to his feet as she’d commanded.
“Hmm…” Venus walked a slow circle around the stunned warrior. “You’re almost the same height and build, clearly you’re related. His body is thicker, of course, and you’re much blonder than he, but under armor that won’t be so noticeable. Plus, I’ll add a little magical this and that. Put on his helmet and the rest of this armor and no one will be able to tell the difference, especially in the heat of battle.”
“Goddess, I don’t understand.” But even as he said the words, Patroklos knew what the Goddess of Love was planning, and his heart beat hard and fast with anticipation.
“Don’t you, darling? You said you’d like to be Achilles so that you could lead the final charge of the Greeks against the Trojans. I believe I can give you your wish. If it is truly what you wish. Is it young Patroklos?”
Patroklos wanted to shout with triumph and instantly accept the goddess’s offer, but the golden Olympians were often capricious and their whims could be dangerous and deadly. “Why do you wish to aid me, Aphrodite?”
The goddess frowned and the air around them heated, whipping fitfully against Patroklos’s skin in response to her irritation. “Can you Greeks not remember that I prefer to be called Venus?”
Patroklos bowed his head. “I beg your pardon, Great Goddess. I meant no disrespect.”
Venus drew a deep breath and the breeze died, returning to pleasant coolness of the seaside night. “Of course you didn’t, darling. I shouldn’t be so touchy. I’ve just been under terrible stress lately. This war is wearing on my nerves, which brings me back to the reason for my little visit and your question. I wish to aid you because the war has gone on long enough. We want it to end. You can help that happen.”
“We? So the gods are truly becoming involved?”
“Actually the goddesses are.”
Patroklos’s eyes widened in understanding. “Athena is aiding Odysseus.”
“Among other things,” Venus mumbled, then cleared her throat delicately. “Yes, and I am aiding you.”
“I’m honored, Great Goddess. But why me? I have never been your supplicant.” He smiled a little shyly. “The truth is until lately I knew very little of love.”
Venus touched his cheek and he felt a warm flush of love and happiness rush though his body. “But you have found love, haven’t you?”
Unable to speak, he nodded.
“That is why I’ve chosen you. Newfound love is a powerful emotion. It holds a very special magic. I’ve seen it stave off death, heal souls and thwart fate. I’m going to use the magic of newfound love and your physical resemblance with your cousin. Coupled and blessed by me, those things will allow you to impersonate Achilles just long enough to lead the Myrmidons and the Greek army against the Trojans. You’ll head the charge when the great walls are breached.”
Excitement shivered over Patroklos and his eyes blazed. “I’ll do it, Goddess! I’ll do it for Greece and for you.”
Venus inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of his pledge. “I am pleased. Now all you need is Achilles’ famous armor and my blessing just after dawn.”
“My cousin keeps his armor in his tent. How do I—”
“Leave that to me. Love will keep Achilles occupied,” Venus said.