(A not so close reading of Homer)
Prince Achilles faced angry King Agamemnon.
“Your Majesty, gettings are keepings with you. Brave men fought gallantly. Your stores and granaries are overflowing. Now you demand I give back my only prize, given by your hand.” (Old Greedyguts! he thought.)
The maid Briseis was desirable. Almond-eyed, slender hipped, golden hair down a tawny back, she was war loot, father a distant king. He wanted her back.
Achilles started to draw his sword, but his divine mother, Thetis appeared as a vapor.
“Pretend to give back the maid, and then, my poor child, take revenge. Kill her and spoil Agamemnon’s game.”
Briseis was led from Achilles quarters to a moored ship. His heart raged, and a quick flash of his sword killed the guards.
“Come fair Briseis, and be my wife.” Achilles leaned her back upon a rock and pulled her legs around him. “The first time is unpleasant, but you will grow in desire.”
Poor Briseis clung to his neck, and sank slowly down. He plunged into her, and blood covered his sword, Briseis no longer virginal.
“Come on my sword, Briseis” he muttered, groaning. Briseis did. Twice.
Agamemnon’s game was up. Achilles won by spoiling the prize.
Copyrighted, 2016 , from “A Seasoning of Lust”, Amazon.com, 2016.