The pyre was built out on the sea floor, near where Patroclus's remains would be buried. Achilles seemed certain that his own end was near, so he requisitioned an urn large enough to fit both of their skeletons. Perhaps to cope with his grief, Achilles became obsessed with overdoing all of the funerary practices.
An animal sacrifice was expected, so Briseis had obtained some oxen for the purpose, but instead of using the oxen, Achilles rounded up a half dozen of their finest horses, slaughtered them and set them on the pyre. Then he'd found Patroclus's two favorite dogs and sacrificed them. Most Greeks believed it would allow the loyal beasts to follow their master into the afterlife, rather than meet the oblivion of any other dying animal, but Achilles adhered to the tradition simply because he couldn't bear to see the two dogs in front of his tent waiting anxiously for Patroclus to return. When he ordered his myrmidons to round up all of his Trojan slaves, though, Briseis and Odysseus had to step in.
"We don't do that sort of thing anymore," Odysseus said.
"Patroclus deserves a burial worthy of the gods," Achilles said.
"We don't perform human sacrifice when gods die," Odysseus said, "Well, we didn't when Ares died, anyway. It hasn't really come up, otherwise..."
"Well, maybe we should have."
"Who oversaw Ares's burial?" Briseis asked him.
"Menelaus," Achilles said, "... After Patroclus was killed."
"How many slaves do you think Patroclus would have killed to honor Ares?" Briseis asked.
"None..."
"And how many did you execute on that field to bait Hector into facing you?"
They stared each other in the eye as the myrmidons returned with a dozen Trojans in bonds.
"Sir?" one of the myrmidons asked, "What do you want us to do with them?"
"Patroclus deserves a memorable sacrifice for his funeral..."
"Hector wasn't memorable enough?" Odysseus muttered.
"... So light the pyre and then take these men and women to the edge of the camp, unbind them, and let them go."
"Sir?" the soldier was puzzled.
"I'm giving up all of my remaining slaves," Achilles said, "That's a sacrifice, right? And one of the last things Patroclus said to me was that I should have set Briseis free from the beginning. So that's how I'll honor his memory. If any of you wish to do the same, I know it would mean a lot to him."
The myrmidons started the pyre burning and then did as they were instructed. The chatter among them ranged from, 'That's a good idea' to 'he's lost it.'
"Thank you," Briseis said.
"Thank you for helping me to hear Patroclus's voice. He's marching far away, now, but the voice is still there, isn't it? If I listen."
"You know, Penelope and I have talked about putting an end to slavery in Ithaca altogether," Odysseus said, "I've always been afraid the economic burden of such a change would undermine our defenses, though."
Briseis looked up at the lights of the city in the distance, "Maybe a kingdom that survives on the backs of slaves doesn't deserve to survive."
"Heh," Achilles smiled as he took a sip of wine and poured the rest of the cup into the fire, "Arguing philosophy and social justice. If Apollo were here Patroclus would say this was the perfect remembrance for him."
For a time, all they could hear was the pop and crackle of the fire, which built steadily into a roar as it spread across the animal fat slathered on the timber. The fire burned so loudly, it took them a while to hear the cries from the other end of the camp. When at last they turned their attention that direction, they saw some of their stranded ships bursting into flames, and the sound of battle rang across the dry sea bed, rolling towards them.
A raptor descended from the darkness and morphed into Adresteia, "Arm yourselves; you're under attack!"
"We have a truce!" Odysseus shouted.
"Evidently Priam's broken it," Menelaus came huffing out of the darkness, followed by a number of Spartans, "Runners say that the attackers are Trojan men in Greek armor."
"Damn them!" Achilles shouted, "Damn them for dishonorable, lying dogs!" He abandoned the funeral and headed to his chariot.
"Achilles!" Odysseus shouted, "Where are you going? We need you!"
Achilles ignored them and disappeared into the darkness, Briseis trying to follow him.
"Well, that's not good," Menelaus said.
"We don't have time to deal with it," Adresteia said, "The number of attackers is small, but they're already scattered through your camp. Your men are turning on each other trying to defend themselves."
"The men were mixed together celebrating the truce; and its dark enough that men you've fought alongside for ten years can look like strangers..." Odysseus scrambled up onto one of the stranded ships closest to the shore, and then climbed up the mast, followed by Adresteia. The wind was blowing in his favor, so he shouted as loudly as he could manage, "MEN OF GREECE! DISENGAGE AND RETREAT TO THE SHIPS YOU CAME ON!"
"What are you doing?" Menelaus asked as Odysseus scrambled back down, "If we abandon the camp, the invaders will burn it to the ground. We've stored some supplies on the ships, but..."
Odysseus sent some of his men to spread the message, warning them to avoid any fighting. "We're not abandoning the camp," Odysseus explained, "We're just making sure every man is fighting next to men he grew up with, men he'd know blindfolded and in absolute darkness"
"Sir," one of the Spartans said to Menelaus, "Every man in the camp knows your face. And our capes do stand out."
Menelaus nodded to his Spartan retinue, "Right, stay close behind me. Keep our ranks tight, so everyone knows you're with me. Anyone comes at you, do not attack unless you are attacked. Let's see how many of our wayward cousins we can scoop up." Menelaus and his column of Spartans marched into the camp to ferret out the attackers.
"ODYSSEUS!" Adresteia shouted, "I see Paris! He's on the hill where Patroclus died!"
"Paris?! He must be here to avenge Hector's death. Damn that boy for a bull's constipated rectum!" Odysseus growled. He ordered his men to guard their ships, and to detain any unfamiliar men who showed up claiming to be Ithacans. He grabbed his bow and followed Adresteia as she took flight towards the edge of the camp. Odysseus dodged and weaved through the fighting that had spread through the camp, not sure who was friend or foe. When at last he came within sight of the hill, he could see Paris with his back to a fire, picking off men below and laughing.
Odysseus started to draw his bow, but Adresteia came down and cautioned him, "Does this situation seem strange to you?"
Odysseus watched from behind the corner of a tent, "How can he tell his men apart from ours?"
"Exactly. He can't," Adresteia said, "He's shooting indiscriminately."
"Does that seem like something Paris would do?"
"You're asking the woman whose daughter he's keeping as a sex slave to make a judgment of his moral character?"
"Addy..."
"No, it doesn't seem like something he would do. He's a narcissist but..."
"You know, Athena used that word once - I still don't know what it means."
"Someone who's like Narcissus. It's a god joke, okay? Everyone on Olympus uses the word to describe someone who's pathologically vain and self-aggrandizing."
"So, basically they use it to describe everyone else on Olympus?"
"My point is, sending men to die for him would be consistent with Paris's character, but shooting his own men in the back and laughing about it, would not be."
"Is it possible that's not Paris?"
"Well, most of my kin can shape shift, and Athena can choose to disguise herself as specific people, but I know she's on Olympus right now. But that still leaves Dionysus..."
"The god of theatrics," Odysseus sighed, "This whole thing is a set up, to make us think the Trojans broke the truce. I'm guessing these bronze arrowheads won't work then?"
"Titans are usually much weaker in a mimicked form, but my kin are able to preserve some of their abilities when altering their appearance. So probably no, they won't work."
"Right - have you ever hunted wolves?"
"Nope."
"Long story short, I'm going to play rabbit and draw his attention. You blind side him, keep him busy, and I'll try to find a steel weapon to kill him with."
"Good plan, don't get shot."
Odysseus started out into the open, but a Greek man running past fell to the ground with an arrow in his eye. Odysseus stepped back, "Dionysus is a better shot than I expected."
"He's been hitting the booze less," Adresteia looked for a shield, but could only find a serving platter, "keep him to your side, and keep this between him and your head. And don't hold it too close to your head."
"Anything else?"
Adresteia grabbed him and kissed him, "Like I said, don't get shot. Penelope would kill me."
Odysseus lifted the serving tray and ran out into the open, hopping and skipping over corpses. An arrow struck the platter and knocked it out of his hands, but Odysseus managed to dodge the following shots until he found a proper shield. He hunkered down behind it as bronze arrowheads pelted it. One finally punched through the armor and sliced across the bridge of Odysseus's nose, but then Odysseus heard the crackle of thunder, and the storm of arrows stopped.
Up on the hill, Dionysus - in the guise of Paris - raised his eyes to the heavens, "Father?"
Lightning flashed again, and this time it revealed a black bird of prey swooping down at him. It locked onto his face with its talons. It shouldn't have been able to penetrate his skin, but the bird was stronger, it's talons harder than a normal bird.
"Nemesis!" he shouted angrily.
Adresteia morphed into her godform and jumped backwards, effectively kicking him in the face with both feet.
"Dionysus," Adresteia smiled as she circled about him, "Thank you for finally leaving Apollo's temple. I'd considered cutting my way through your worshipers to reach you, but there's just been so much going on."
Dionysus wiped the blood from his face as he abandoned Paris's form, but he didn't revert to the portly, rosy cheeked man that Adresteia had remembered. Now he was pale and lean - gaunt even - the look of a man who was eternally starving, though the muscle mass he'd picked up would surely suggest he'd been getting protein of some form. He dropped the arrows he'd been carrying, and with a flick of his wrist the Trojan bow he'd been using reshaped itself into a long staff with a spiked head that looked like a golden pine cone.
"I'm so glad you could work me into your busy schedule this evening," Dionysus answered.
"So, why are you here, and not on Olympus with the others?"
"Oh, Zeus did summon me to meet with the other gods, but as usual, I'm sure father will be too busy to make good on any of his threats or promises. I could have gone to the Constellar Palace anyway, but for what? Some boring summit? Here in Troa I have the most delicious banquet of anguish, grief, and misplaced hope that I could ever ask for. As soon as that truce was made, Priam sent word to his allies to send food, enough to feast for the first time in years. For a few precious hours, their suffering has been suspended. They are outside the gates of Troy, celebrating Hector's life as we speak. Their revelry, born of hope growing out of hopelessness, it's delicious," Dionysus licked his fingers suggestively. Dionysus began dancing about, alternating unpredictably between swinging the long staff in big arcs and stabbing with the spiked head.
"If their revelry is so delicious, why disrupt it?" Adresteia asked, "Breaking up a party is antithetical to who you are."
"Depends on what you consider the party. My followers and I haven't lingered in Apollo's temple for close to a decade so that we could see a truce between Greece and Troy. We've stayed expecting a climactic orgy of hate-fueled destruction. My faithful converts – Greek and Trojan deserters – are looking to me to make that happen. So, I directed my Trojan acolytes to done the armor forsaken by their Greek brothers, and led them down here with a simple goal – to create chaos and misery. Now, tell me-"
"Oh shut up," Adresteia unleashed a bolt of electricity at Dionysus, but he simply absorbed the power, his eyes glowing brightly.
"Nice try," Dionysus laughed, "But, shockingly, I take after father where thunder and lightning are concerned." He began attacking more fiercely, throwing in some elaborate spins to keep Adresteia guessing.
Adresteia jumped back and took to the air, trying to get some distance while she looked for an opening. Dionysus's staff, transformed again, the shaft becoming a long chain that unfurled as the spiked head flew off and struck her. Adresteia waivered, but managed to stay in the air until Dionysus snapped the chain like a whip and wrapped it around her ankle. With a heave of effort, Dionysus pulled Adresteia violently to the ground. Her wings crunched under the impact. She shook the chain off of her ankle and rolled away, drawing her bruised wings back into her body.
"Okay, your turn," Dionysus taunted as he spun the chain in his hand, "Surround us with shadows or something. It'd be fabulous for the ambiance of our duel."
Adresteia waved her hand and created a void in the light - right around Dionysus's head.
"Ah, I'm blind!" he yelped facetiously, "Okay, kudos to you, Nemesis. I should have seen that coming. Now, my turn!"
Dionysus threw himself down on all fours and grew and morphed into a large striped cat. Adresteia kept the shadow on his head as she strafed around him; the inky black void was dark enough that his feline night vision would not be able to penetrate it. Unfortunately his bestial senses of smell and hearing were unaffected, and Dionysus quickly discerned her location and charged at her.
Raptors like owls and eagles were generally Adresteia's go-to shapes. Apparently both of her parents had been fond of bird-shapes, so maybe there was some hereditary affinity there. Eagles and owls, of course, don't have much to bring to a fight against a tiger. Fortunately, Hera had taught her a special trick as a child - she'd found her another form that was close enough to a raptor that Adresteia could manage it without too much concentration, but far more effectual in a circumstance such as this.
Adresteia lunged forward, running toward Dionysus on the balls of her feet as her legs lengthened and her talons grew larger. The scales that covered her hands and feet in her godform spread across her body, mixing with black feathers. Her skull lengthened as if she were transforming into one of her bird forms, but rather than manifesting a beak she shaped a long snout filled with backwards-curving teeth. A long, rigid tail stretched out behind her, balancing her turn as she slid under Dionysus's pounce and came up behind him. She jumped onto his back, sinking her back claws into his flanks, her fore claws into his ribs, and her teeth into the back of his neck. She jerked her head from side to side, like a vulture stripping a carcass, and blood streamed from Dionysus's wounds as he struggled against her.
Dionysus shifted again, doubling in size and trading his teeth and claws for horns and hooves. Adresteia's claws and teeth remained hooked in his hide, but it was now tough enough that she was having more trouble cutting through it. Dionysus bucked wildly trying to throw her off, and finally charged down off of the hill and began throwing himself through the camp's wooden palisade walls. After several attempts, he finally managed to dislodge Adresteia, and send her rolling away. He wheeled around, lowered his horns, and charged full speed at her. Adresteia dodged his charge, sprinted up one of the wrecked walls, and jumped off, striking his side and digging her sickle-shaped talons into his ribs. Dionysus bucked again, but this time he threw himself onto his side, smashing her under a ton-and-a-half of bone and beef.
Unable to right himself, Dionysus shifted back to his humanoid godform and backed off, keen to gloat. Adresteia likewise returned to her default shape, shaking off the pain of the bones broken and the organs ruptured by Dionysus's body-slam. Adresteia noticed Dionysus hadn't changed back completely to the form he'd assumed before - he now sported prominent fangs, clawed finger tips, and pointed ears. Adresteia flexed her talons, and the two of them ran at each other, slashing and clawing.
"You realize this is pointless, right?" Dionysus panted as they struggled, "We can hurt each other fighting barehanded, but we can't do any permanent damage, and neither of us can create a weapon that is capable of doing so."
"Don't need to make one, just need time for my partner to find one."
"What?" Dionysus suddenly convulsed as a steel blade erupted from his abdomen, just below his sternum. Odysseus held onto the sword's hilt, trying to twist it to do more damage. Dionysus sputtered in terror at the sight of his own blood.
"Less appealing when it's your own blood spilling out onto the earth, isn't it?" Adresteia asked as she walked up to him.
"I... I..." Dionysus stammered, but then abruptly grabbed Adresteia and yanked her towards him, laughing, "I got you!" Adresteia twisted far enough away to avoid being skewered by the blade, but it did inflict a deep cut along her ribs that exposed white bone. Dionysus tried to lock his teeth around her throat, but Adresteia sank her claws into his face, her thumb talon puncturing his cheek and her ring finger talon getting dangerously close to his brainstem. Adresteia reached down and wrapped her thickly scaled fingers around the blade that had cut her.
"Odysseus!" she shouted, "let go!"
Odysseus released the weapon and jumped back. Adresteia released Dionysus's face and kicked him in the crotch. He flew backwards with such force that the whole sword ripped through his body leaving him standing between his enemies with a visible hole in his abdomen, his intestines dangling from the wound like a balled thread in a woven cloth. Adresteia flipped the sword around and plunged the steel blade through Dionysus's heart, expecting him to crumple to the ground immediately. Instead, he simply stepped backwards, sliding off the end of the blade and laughing.
Odysseus had spent enough time around gods to know that should have killed Dionysus, "How...?"
"I've always believed that self-improvement is important," Dionysus said, "Our kind, we don't really need air or food the way the mortals do, not if there are enough mortals to satisfy our thirst for ambrosia. I think with enough pure ambrosia, we can survive virtually anything. I've been testing my own boundaries, pushing my limits, and I must same I'm quite satisfied with the outcome."
"Well, dead or alive, you'll be less chatty without a head," Adresteia lunged forward with the steel sword, and Dionysus jumped back in fear - apparently he wasn't ready to test his limits that far.
The shouting and screaming in the camp was dying down, and Odysseus could hear the other commanders beginning a calm and systematic sweep of the camp.
"Well," Dionysus backed away, "It sounds like my work here is done." He snapped his fingers and created a small black egg, "Exit stage right." He threw the egg down and disappeared in a bright flash that produced a thick cloud.
Odysseus waved away the acrid black smoke that burned his lungs, coughing, "I guess we can't really call this one a win, can we?"
Adresteia shifted her eyes to look beyond the camp up at the gates of Troy. "No," she said, "we're already too late for that."
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