Chapter Text
There are two new girls presented in the agora that day. One is older than the other, much older.
The older girl is beautiful, with fair hair and milky skin. She has large hazel eyes and a round face. There are ribbons —ceremonial fillets— fluttering in her hair, a priest’s daughter. She is young, but old enough to be treated as a woman.
There are tears in her eyes that flow down from her cheeks and fall into the ground. She makes no moves to wipe them away. Her hands are tied behind her back.
The younger girl next to her however is very small, it is obvious that she is still a child. She is odd with the gleaming silver buttons in the lobe of her ears.
Her tawny hair reaches a bit past her shoulders, and there are ceremonial fillets in her hair just like the older girl.
Another priest’s daughter.
The younger girl is audibly crying, her large blue eyes are wide and full of fear. There are bruises blooming on the pale skin of her round face.
The freckles dotting her skin are given curious looks, why would the daughter of a priest spent much time outside to the point of developing so many freckles?
Although perhaps the freckles are a sign of favor from the god that her father serves? It is likely, seeing that the fillets in her tawny hair appears as if they were made of much more finer material than that of the older girl’s.
The older girl glances at the younger and she softly murmurs, “Aikaterine, please do not cry. Be brave,”
The little girl looks at the older girl with those wide eyes of her and nods hesitantly. Her cries turn into sniffles.
The little girl is trying to look brave, but it is futile since her large eyes are filled with tears that run down her cheeks and her body shakes in very obvious fear.
The older girl is only slightly better off, because while her back is as straight as humanely possible there is a stiffness in her shoulders that can be seen.
Patroclus gently nudges Achilles, gesturing towards the girls. He would prefer that Achilles claim the both of them, but it is likely that he would only be able to claim one of them.
After all the beautiful girls tended to be quickly claimed by the kings or the princes.
Achilles nods at his companion and steps forward to lay claim at the girls. Before he can say anything, Agamemnon steps forward and places one of his large hand on the older girl’s stiff shoulders.
“This is Chryseis,” He says. “I claim her for myself,” He takes the girl from the dais, roughly, and pulls her towards his tent.
”Chryseis!” The little girl whines, her voice is broken and thickly laced with fear. “Chryseis!”
“Aikaterine,” Chryseis calls out, managing to glance back at the little girl despite being roughly taken away by Agamemnon. “Be brave!”
Her hazel eyes are wide and filled with desperateness. “Be brave!” She screams. “Kayla be brave!”
“Be quiet,” Agamemnon interrupts her. He opened the tent’s entrance and practically shoved the girl into his tent. He went after her, making sure that the tent was firmly closed.
”Chryseis!” The girl —Aikaterine— is sobbing now, shaking violently in her place on the dais. The tears run down her cheeks and she does not wipe them away. Her hands are tied behind her back.
She looked like a young cornered animal, separated from its mother and pack and well aware that it was in danger.
”Achilles,” Patroclus whispers.
Achilles glances towards his lover and simply nods. Quickly he makes his way to the younger girl and places a hand on her shoulders. He is faster than the other men after all.
”This is Aikaterine and I claim her for myself,” Achilles declares. “To serve as Briseis’ handmaiden,”
The girl —Aikaterine— stares at him with wide eyes, as if she didn’t fully know what to think. Achilles picked her up, gentle in how strongly his hand held her small body.
She’s carried underneath Achilles’ arm as he makes his way towards his camp, her little feet dangling around in the air.
Patroclus followed after him, but briefly he caught sight of the priest Calchas frowning. The old man’s mouth is half-opened, as if he might object.
To what he would object, Agamemnon taking Chryseis or Achilles claiming Aikaterine? Patroclus does not know. But then Calchas closes his mouth and Odysseus finishes the distribution.
The Sun grew hotter after that.
Sing, o goddess
Of the wrath of far shooting Apollo,
Who cost the Acheans countless lives
Inflicting countless plagues upon them,
Hurling down countless sturdy souls
To the house of Hades,
Punishing the hubris of men
For daring to steal from him
Sing o goddess
Of pure Aikaterine
Beloved daughter of Apollo,
Child of the far shooter
Acolyte of Agrotera Artemis
Who was taken by the Acheans
From her own father’s temple
Declare, O Muse
In what ill-fated hour
Phoebus Apollo struck down
Mighty kings, princes, and soldiers
In a devastating plague
When he found his beloved daughter
Nowhere within the mighty walls
Of worn and beseeched Troy
Nor inside his glorious temples
It starts with a normal day for Kayla.
She is awaken from her sleep by her father and dressed for school. It’s sunny outside and there’s no snow yet.
School isn’t always easy and Kayla doesn’t like it most of the time. Some of the teachers look at her funny and some of the kids make fun of her for not being able to write as good as everyone else.
Everyone can barely write, but at least the teachers can read it better than Kayla’s writing. Leah once made fun of her for it by saying that Kayla’s writing is like an animal trying to write.
Ms Atkins is always nice though. She always says that you can’t get things right the first find and that practice makes can make you do it perfectly.
Like Daddy teaching strangers how to use a bow. That example always makes Kayla feel better.
Daddy drives her to her grandma’s house after school. He tells her that he has to go to work and says to be good.
Kayla pouts about it, clinging to his legs and whining, “Do you have to go?”
”I have to Kayla,” Daddy laughs, ruffling her shirt choppy hair. “I can’t ignore going to work,”
”But I don’t want you to!”
“Tell you what,” Daddy smiles, kneeling down to look at her in the eyes. “After I get back from work, we’ll watch all the Scooby-Doo movies,”
”Really?” Kayla asked with wide eyes. “You mean it?”
”Yes,” Daddy laughs, his dimples (like the ones that Jeanne, the girl with the pretty laugh, has) showing. “I won’t take long, just an hour or two,”
”But that’s so long!” Kayla whines.
”Kay-Kay,” Grandma says, her voice is a bit stern. It’s similar to the ones used by the teachers whenever Kayla is in trouble for screaming about a monster that ‘wasn’t there’ when Kayla knows that there was something behind the trees.
(Watching. It was watching her. It had been watching her. That’s why she had screamed so loudly —enough to leave someone deaf, according to the teachers— when she saw golden eyes and black scales and sharp claws.)
Kayla pouts, she doesn’t like the idea of Grandma being similar to those stupid teachers who can’t see anything.
She also doesn’t like that memory.
Daddy laughs softly. “Come on, mon chouchou,” Daddy picks her up and places her on her grandma’s orange couch on the front porch. “Get comfortable and be good for Grandma,”
He kisses her forehead and Kayla reluctantly mutters, “Yes Daddy,”
”I won’t take long,” Daddy promises, his smile is bright despite how his blue eyes (the same color as Kayla’s! Just like their hair) look a bit tired.
”Daddy you be good too,” Kayla says, pouting as her father starts getting farther away from her.
”I promise that I will,” Daddy laugh is happy. He gets farther away and yells out to her, “Be good and take care of your grandma, little archer,”
Grandma rolls her eyes. “I’m not that delicate yet,” she says. “Now you better get going Darren, you don’t want to be late,”
”Yes maman,” Daddy replies.
Kayla nods and waves at her father. “Bye bye Daddy!”
The car drives off and Kayla watches it turn into a small circle on the road. Until eventually she can’t see it anymore.
(That’s the last time she ever sees her Daddy. Darren Knowles.)
Kayla is picking the flowers that grow like weeds in her grandma’s garden in the backyard when she hears a branch snap.
She looks up, feeling that something is wrong. Every hair on her body is standing up and she feels wrong.
There’s something in the air.
She catches sight of something in the between the cracks of her grandma’s wooden fence.
”Kayla!”
That’s Daddy’s voice! Kayla’s eyes widen, she clutches the flowers closer to her chest. Her heart is beating rapidly.
The Sun is warm. It’s always warm.
And then it starts to get darker.
Kayla looks up and frowns at seeing the clouds that start to cover the sky.
“Kayla!”
Daddy! Kayla’s attention is snapped from the sun and onto her father’s voice. “Daddy!” She cried out. “Daddy!”
”Kayla!”
Daddy sounds scared.
“Daddy!” Kayla shouts. “Daddy! I’m coming! I’m going to save you!”
She rushes towards the fence, dropping her wild weed flowers onto the grass. “Daddy!” She cries out as she pushes the loose piece of the fence and squeezes her way outside.
”Daddy!” She shouts. “Daddy!”
”Kayla!” Grandma’s voice screams out. “Kayla! Come back, Kayla come back!”
”I’m going to save daddy!” Kayla shouts before running across the street behind her grandma’s house and rushes towards the huge trees. “Daddy I’m coming!”
“KAYLA!” Grandma screams.
”Kayla!” Daddy’s voice shrikes, loud and overwhelming. It’s stronger than her grandma’s voice, driving out the voice of the elderly woman.
“Daddy!” Kayla calls out, stretching her hands out and going deeper and deeper into the woods.
The sun doesn’t shine anywhere in the trees. The trees are full of shadows, hiding Kayla from sight.
APOLLO
Despair of a father
Whose daughter has been taken
The common man experiences this
Any time a war begins
And many woman, the daughters,
The wives, and the sisters,
Of a common man
Have been taken captive
No man should be bold
Enough to steal from divinity
Yet I, the son born to
Might Zeus and lovely Leto
Brother of Artemis the huntress,
Have been robbed by mortals
My daughter illegally taken
From mine own temples!
Despair o men!
Has thy hubris know no bound
That thou would steal from a god?
— Translation of Jean Fontaine’s “The Abduction of Aikaterine” by Thomas Wright
It starts with the mules, heaving against the fences and with yellow eyes filled with mucus. They have barely awoken from their sleep before the pained cries of the mules draw them outside their tents.
The first one to see them were Achilles and Patroclus. They came out of their tent to see what was making those pained sounds.
Then Briseis stood from where she slept inside her little tent next to Achilles’. She is careful as she rises, so to not accidentally alert little Aikaterine.
Despite her carefulness to not wake the little girl, Aikaterine still opened her eyes when she could not feel the warmth of Briseis’ body holding her gently.
(Her father holds her like that sometimes. When he has enough time to spare on holding her in his arms while she sleeps.)
”Briseis,” Aikaterine yawned. “Where are you going?”
”I have to see something,” Briseis tells her, her voice is soft. “Go back to sleep little one,” Briseis gently pulls the covers the girl’s body and practically swaddles her.
“M’kay,” the girl lays down again on her cot that is next to Briseis’. She closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.
The noises from the mules continue as Briseis comes out of her tent. The poor things, Briseus thinks when she sees the sick mules. She spots Patroclus next to Achilles and rushes over to him.
“What’s wrong with the mules?” She asks him. She does not look at Achilles.
”We do not know,” Patroclus answers her. It is genuine, as she can see it in his eyes. He never was fond of violence or death.
The noise from the animals grows and grows. Achilles and Patroclus go to check every mule in the camp. So Briseis returns to her tent.
She finds Aikaterine standing outside the tent, staring at the mules. The sun seems to be shining on her, as if trying to bathe her in its light.
”Are they dying?” Aikaterine whispered, her large eyes wide in horror.
”They might be, since they’re very sick,” Briseis sighs softly, knelling down to meet the young girl’s eyes. “Get back inside, I’ll put something on the table to eat,”
”Okay,” The girl nodded, hurrying back into the tent. Briefly, she casted a guilty looks towards the mules.
Then it spreads to the dogs, tongues foaming a red-tinged scum. It’s barely the middle of the day.
They have to burn the animals body to try and keep it from spreading any more. Patroclus pities the animals, their last moments spent in pain.
“Priest Chryses!” A servant came rushing from down the hallways. “Priest Chryses!”
“Giorgos, do not shout,” The priest of Apollo chastised the youth. “We are in a sacred place,”
”I-I apologize, Priest Chryses,” The young man panted. “But it’s urgent!”
”What has happened?” The priest asked.
”The-The temple of Lord Apollo where you mainly serve has been raided by the Acheans!” Giorgos exclaimed.
”What?” Chryses’ face paled.
“And…And most of the priestesses have been taken and many of the priests have been killed…” Giorgos continued.
Immediately, Chryses thought of his only daughter. ‘Chryseis…’ The old priest thought, his stomach twisting in knots.
”Giorgos, do you know who has been taken by the Acheans?” Chryses demanded.
”Not yet,” the young man shook his head. “Some of the men and women managed to escape to raid, they’re here in Troy now. They are being counting them now but the soldiers,”
”We must go to them then,” Chryses stated firmly. “I must see who is here and who has been taken. Lead me to the survived now,”
”Yes priest,” the young man nodded.
Before they could go. A scream ran through the temple. “WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!” The voice of Chryses’ lord screams within the temple.