The Song of Patroclus

Chapter 16

We arrived in Phthia the next day. The sun was peeking out from behind the sea, and Patroclus and I watched it from the rail.

"Do you see that?" I asked.

"What?"

"The shore. It looks strange," I frowned. As we neared it, I realized why. It was thick with people, standing impatiently, their heads all facing towards us. There were strange sounds coming from the shore. Before, I thought they were coming from the ocean. From the waves, from our ship, perhaps. But it was coming from the people, all their voices blending together in defeaning words; Prince Achilles! Aristos Achaion!

I was stunned. I watched, paralyzed, as our ship finally reached ground, and hundreds of hands raised to the sky, twice as many roars ripping from their throats.

That was the moment everything changed, I think. I thought it was at Scyros, at Pelion, even. But this was the beginning. I had dipped my foot into grandness, into legend, and from here I knew. I could not go back. I would not go back. This would follow me, every step I took. These people would follow me to the ends of the earth.

I stood still, watching them cry out my name, their eyes watching me expectantly. Finally, Patroclus' touch brought me back to the ground. I looked down at our hands, where everyone could not see them, and then at his hopeful, yet nervous face.

"Go," He spoke, cutting through the loud cheering with his gentle voice. "They are waiting for you."

I take a deep breath and look from his encouraging face to the crowd. I gently let go of his hand and step forward, on the edge of the gangplank. I hesitantly lifted my arm in greeting, not sure what was expected of me. At the simple gesture, they yelled themselves hoarse. A sense of satisfaction flushed through me. I almost thought they'd swarm the ship, but the soldiers pushed them back, making a pathway from the ship to the city.

I turned back to Patroclus, and called to him. "Come with me," I tried to speak over the crowd. I did not think he heard me, until he nodded and walked off the ship beside me. The crowd clashed against where the soldiers held them back. We ignored them as we continued walking, reaching the end of the small path the soldiers had opened. At the end, stood father, surrounded by his advisors and soldiers. No one from the crowd dared to even stand near their king.

Before now, I had never seen my father cry. Now, large tears fell off his wrinkled face, and he made no attempt to stop them. He pulled me into a suffocating hug, as if he was worried it was our last.

It may have been. But he didn't know that.

His beard scratches against my cheek, as I awkwardly pat his back with one hand. He wasn't usually one for affection. Finally, he pulls back and takes a shaky inhale.

"Our prince has returned," His voice was much deeper then I remembered, carrying over the crowd, which was now dead silent, listening to their aging king. "Before you all I offer welcome to my most beloved son, sole heir to my kingdom. He will lead you to Troy in glory; he will return home in triumph."

I look at Patroclus' pale face, not looking at me or father, but rather through us. Father did not look at me as he said the next words.

"He is a man grown, and a god born. Aristos Achaion!" He exclaimed, chaos ensuing in the absence of his voice. The people screamed themselves to pain, the soldiers began beating on their sheilds with their spears. I looked at the crowd in shock. This was certainly new...and I don't think I hated it. I stood taller, shoulders pushed back, legs completely straight now.

I leaned over to whisper in my father's ear over the comotion. "Shall we go back to the castle?" He did not hear me, he was still looking at the crowd with nervous eyes and still-wet cheeks. "Father," I spoke, a little louder. He looked over at me, eyes almost pitiful.