Between Lions and Men

30: a dark cloud of grief fell

Briseis

We were on our way to meet the messengers coming from the front. Well. Captain Peleus was, I was just kind of following. We see Auto running to us down the dusty lane. When he gets closer it's clear his face is streaked with tears.

"What is it? What news?" Captain Peleus asks, catching the boy by the shoulders.

"Sir---," the boy's voice catches.

"No."

"Sir, I'm sorry sir---,"

"No, do not tell me," Captain Peleus' voice cracks. He takes a step backward, shaking his head, voice going dangerously low. "No."

"Sergeant Menoetius, he is killed sir---by Hecktor---,"

An animal scream escapes his throat. He falls to the ground, limp like he's broken, the scream still issuing from his mouth. He falls so quickly as if the life has been thrust from him as well.

Auto drops to the ground, grabbing his hands rather quickly.

"No," I whisper, kneeling as well but not knowing how to comfort him or myself.

"Don't miss, it's all right if he strikes me," Auto says, holding his wrists firmly, as he lies on the ground, as though he too were dead, the scream still escaping his lips.

"How---no," it's war. Of course yes. Of course he's dead. I told you this wasn't happy tale. It's a war story, not a love story, there are no good endings here, not for those that most deserve it.

Peleus twitches on the ground, the scream dies in his throat but it gives way to horrible, gut wrenching sobs. I move to his side as well though I know no comfort, my own grief hollows me out. Auto still holds his hands firmly by the wrists stopping him from clawing his own eyes out or tearing open his own throat.

"I'm sorry sir---Hecktor killed him and took your armor. Even now the others fight for his body which they were loathe not bring back to you, but they are losing bitterly so Aias sent me for you to give them aid so we might bring him back, sir," Auto says, tears still running down his face.

"Thank you, Auto," I say, quietly, for it was a thankless message and now he must witness his commander so destroyed by the news.

Peleus still lies in dust, horrible sobs and cries escaping his throat.

"How---how did he die?" I ask, quietly. I realize now it does not matter.

Auto shakes his head at me, bloodshot eyes bubbling over with tears. He cannot repeat it.

I move to touch Peleus' back, which is arched and tense with pain as he sobs, screaming, though his voice is hoarse such that it is just a roar from the depths of his broken soul.

"Why do you weep thus, my son?"

Auto and I both start, for the woman standing over us is clearly no mortal. She wears shining silver sandals, and her dark hair hangs wet in ropes about a thin, cruel face, flinty black eyes rove over us as though ready to smite us for her child's grief.

"They have killed him," Peleus does not move or get up to answer her and his once sweet voice is gravelly from his screams. "He that I loved more than any other in the world. Dead at Hecktor's hand. And now I blame you for having born me that I came into this world to feel such grief. And so I will go, I will slay Hecktor, and fight until they strike me down in battle, but I will do it to save my own men not for any glory for I care no longer for myself or my name. If I had never existed he would never have died therefore the fault lies with yourself and my father for bringing my cursed soul into existence."