A Song of War by Kate Quinn

Author:Kate Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

PATROCLES

I stood in the chariot and felt the adulation, the joy, the euphoria that greeted Achilles whenever he entered the fray. Back in Opois, I had been celebrated, but never, never like this. Even knowing it was not for me, it was intoxicating. I raised my spear, and thousands of voices roared in joyful reply. My simple ruse was giving heart to an entire army.

Automedon was struggling with the reins, our horses surging across the packed sand, as eager as the Myrmidons to enter the fray.

It was my honor to lead them into battle, to defend our ships and our honor. I prayed to Apollo to grant me strength to carry this formidable burden for just this one day.

So far the day had gone all Hector’s way. With Agamemnon’s soldiers and allies treed like cats up in the ships, Troy’s forces had been free to have their pleasure. That now changed. Sight of us caused them to abandon their assault upon our ships. Otherwise, with two thousand Myrmidons falling on their flank, they would be forced to bunch together beneath the very ships they were assaulting, with Ajax and Nestor hammering them from above while we picked them off below.

How it must have galled Hector to pull them back! Already he had decimated our fleet. Nearly a hundred of our thousand ships were burning. An hour more and we might have lost all.

Yet, wisely, he did not risk his men. Had he stayed, we could have smashed their army there and then.

But Hector did exactly what he should. Not a panicked retreat, but an orderly withdrawal to regroup, reassess, and attack again.

It was up to me to deny them a second bite at the olive.

Spearing straggling Trojans, we traversed billows of smoke as we chased them off the beach. I meant to drive them up the slope towards the gutted camp, into the funnel of the broken gate. Simple logistics would slow them down at that spot. I meant to clog that portal with bodies, preventing their return with a barrier of their own dead.

Without warning a wall of bristling spears sprang up between us and the fleeing Trojans. Ahead of me, I saw the Lycian prince, Sarpedon, gather his warriors to block our charge. He knew as well as I that chariots were of no use against armed men who stood firm. Achilles’ horses were bred for speed, not size. With both hooves and wheels struggling on the sand, we would never gain the speed needed to break Sarpedon’s spear wall.

Automedon altered course, carrying us along their line as I cast one throwing spear after another into their ranks. Each spear claimed a life. When I ran out of spears to throw, I hefted my war spear and caught one of Sarpedon’s men in the mouth like a fish, hauling him through the air, only to cast him aside.

To their credit, the Lycians did not break. Every second they held gave Hector time to regroup. If I wanted to expel these Trojans from our camp, I had to break these men here.

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