The Myrmidons, restrained to a slower pace by the booty they had captured during the war in Thessaly and by the wounded they bore with them, made the 55 diaulos[1] journey home in just over eight long days. The warriors gave a shout as, just after high noon on the ninth day, they came over the crest of the final hill and saw Larissa, the capital of Phthia, stretched out before them along the coast of the Aegean Sea. Some of the Myrmidons quickened their pace as they make their way down the hillside, but Alkippe, leading the horse of Antikles, a Myrmidon with a badly injured arm, kept her pace slow and steady, not willing to risk a fall on the slightly sandy soil.

Just minutes later a rising shout drifted across the land as the guards on the city walls caught sight of the returning Myrmidons. Alkippe glanced across her city up toward the citadel and her father's palace. She wondered whether her younger cousin was watching from the palace's walls beyond the reach of her sight or whether he was still in bed, sleeping the morning away as the young without pressing responsibilities were want sometimes to do. A small smile flitted quickly across her face. She was not given over much to sentimentality, but it was good to be home. All the Myrmidons, especially Achilles and Alkippe, were tired of fighting for Agamemnon in his self-serving wars that dragged soldiers away from the lands that needed their attention more.

A groan from Antikles tore Alkippe's attention away from her home. She took a quick look back. The injured Myrmidon was deathly pale even beneath his sun-bronzed skin and was listing heavily to one side. The bandages wrapped thickly around his wounded arm were stained brightly with fresh blood: his wound had reopened. Alkippe frowned and slowed her pace even further till she was walking beside the horse's withers. The stallion, her personal war-horse, was well-behaved and did not really need her to lead him.

"Lean on my shoulder, soldier," Alkippe ordered, "it will not be long until we reach the city, and then you will be able to rest and be tended by a healer."

"My thanks, lady," replied the soldier, his voice weak. As bent over as he was it was not hard for him to use his lady's shoulder as a prop as she had ordered.

Another hour's walk brought the rear guard of the Myrmidon formation to the gates of Larissa. The cheers of their people greeted their triumphant return. Most of the Myrmidons scattered to their homes in the lower town as soon as they passed through the gates. The rest of the Myrmidons, who guarded the citadel, along with the wounded continued on further into the city.

The wounded were entrusted to the care of the healer whose halls were located just inside the gates of the citadel. Achilles dismissed the remaining Myrmidons, except for Eudorus and Phoenix, who served as the two principle commanders of the Myrmidons under Achilles and Alkippe, and the soldiers leading the pack animals bearing the captured spoils meant for the palace.

On the stone portico outside the great carven doors that lead into the palace, the whole royal family was waiting as Alkippe and Achilles walked up the stone steps that lead to the palace. Peleus stood leaning on a wooden staff, his white hair shining in the sun, the picture of the wise, old ruler. Two steps behind him, on his right hand, stood Thetis. To Alkippe, it seemed that her mother's hair was slightly more touched with grey than it has been over a month earlier, when the Myrmidons had left to fight yet another war for Agamemnon. Behind them, under the shadow of the portico roof, stood Patroclus, the young 17-year old cousin of Alkippe and Achilles. Alkippe smiled softly when she saw him: from the look on his face, only sheer force of will was keeping him flying down the steps to greet his cousin as if he wore Hermes' winged shoes, instead of his regular sandals.

Not that he would appreciate me calling him young, she thought, yet I am fourteen summers the elder. He will always seem young to me.

Peleus' voice broke into her thoughts as her father greeted her brother. She stepped up beside her brother and bowed, "Father."

"Welcome home, daughter," said Peleus, greeting his younger child with a curt nod. The relationship between father and daughter was cool at best. Alkippe was the daughter he had never expected to have. Then, instead of growing up to into a woman useful for marriage alliances with other Greek kings, she had grown up into a warrior, second only to her brother among the Myrmidons, breaking all the social norms of Greece at that time. Moreover, she had refused every suitor who had worked up the nerve to try to win her hand, preferring to die a maid rather than marry a suitor who only wanted her for her body or for the alliances that marriage to her would bring.

As her father's attention returned to her brother, Alkippe stepped away and greeted her mother much more warmly with a shallow bow and a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Eschewing formality, the queen pulled her daughter to her, embraced her, and then held her daughter at arm's length to look at her. "You look well, my child," said the elderly queen, "Did you escape injury on this campaign?"

"Yes, mother," replied Alkippe, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb her father's conversation, "Ares was pleased with my gifts and blessed my sword, though not all our troops were so blessed."

The queen's brow furrowed at this news. "How many were lost?"

"Three dead. Ten wounded."

"Against the Thessalians it could have been much worse. Now, if the gods be good, we will have peace," said the queen.

"If the gods be good," echoed Alkippe.

"Go and greet your cousin," said the queen after a moment's silence, "before his patience runs out."

Which would be soon, thought Alkippe fondly, knowing her cousin's habits well, I'm surprised he has managed to restrain himself this long.

Taking the queen's words as tacit permission, Patroclus bounded forward, a smile lighting up his face. He seemed so young to Alkippe with his beaming smile and golden hair. He had come to Larissa when he was seven, after his parents drowned in a shipwreck. A naturally talented fighter, he had learned well from the tutelage of the Myrmidons and of his older cousins but understood little of the really cost and burdens of wall, as he had never been on campaign.

"Welcome home, cousin!" Patroclus said, sweeping his older but slightly shorter cousin into a hug.

"It's good to be home," Alkippe responded, pounding him on the back. After a moment, she pulled back enough to look her cousin over, "Have you been keeping up with your training in our absence?"

"Of course!" Patroclus replied, looking slightly offended that she even had to ask, "I've been training with the palace guards and practicing on my own."

Alkippe smiled, "You must train with me tomorrow then, and we will test how far your skills have improved."

Patroclus beamed. Even after living in Larissa for ten years, he still idolized both of his cousins and relished any and all chances to train with them.

Alkippe patted his shoulder and then, turning back towards the steps, beckoned to Phoenix and to one of the male servants in the yard.

To Phoenix, she said, "Leave my gifts for Ares' Temple in the courtyard with a soldier or slave to watch over them. I will return soon."

"Of course, my lady," said Phoenix, giving a low bow. He turned away to do as Alkippe instructed.

To the servant, she said, "Go to the herdsmen. I need two of their best bulls for me to take up to Ares' Temple before the sun sets. Tell him to come up tomorrow morning to the palace for his payment."

"As you command, my lady," said the servant, giving a lower bow than Phoenix had. The servant hurried off towards the gates that lead to the lower city to find the herdsmen.

With her instructions given, Alkippe left the portico and made her way further into the palace. Winding her way through the stone halls, she eventually came to her own large chambers set towards the back of the palace near the private training yards used by the royal family and the high ranking officers of the Myrmidons.

As she entered her chambers for the first time in over a month, Alkippe gave a sigh, half of relief and half of appreciation, when she smelled the scent of bath oils coming from her bathing room attached to her sleeping chambers. Xanthe, her personal slave, appeared in the door of the bathing room, hearing the creek of the chamber door opening then shutting.

"Welcome home, mistress. Your bath will be ready in just a few minutes," Xanthe said in slightly accented Greek. She had served Alkippe for nearly ten years and knew her mistress' habits well. As long as she was not injured badly enough to impede her mobility, Alkippe, after greeting her family, would always bathe immediately before making her way to Ares' Temple to offer gifts in thanks for the god's aid and her safe return. Thus, when Xanthe had heard from another slave that the Myrmidons had been sighted, she had moved to start preparing for her mistress' return.

"Very good, Xanthe, thank you" replied Alkippe, starting to untie the straps that held her armor in place.

Piece by piece Alkippe removed her sweat-stained armor and hung them on the wooden, human-shaped stand next to her clothes-chest. She propped her massive shield against the wall and leaned her sword and spear against two carved rests lower on the wall, designed to keep them from falling over.

As she worked, she called to her slave in the next room, "Did anyone make trouble for you while I was absent?"

"No, mistress," Xanthe replied over the sound of her bustling about. "The other slaves know well the consequences of touching me, and there have been no visiting nobles in your absence." Xanthe was a pretty darker-skinned slave who had only seen twenty-two or twenty-three summers. In the ten or so years that she had been in Larissa, Xanthe had drawn more than few admiring and lustful glances from other slaves and from visiting nobles who were intrigued by her exotic looks. But after finding Xanthe once with a torn dress and a bruised cheek, Alkippe thereafter had threatened the slaves and the soldiers that she found looking at her slave in such ways with dire consequences if they ever touched her and had kept her slave away from visitors. Thus, for years Xanthe had lived a peaceful life, for a slave in those days, with little risk of molestation from men with wandering hands and lustful thoughts, yet Alkippe still asked her the same question after each and every absence.

A minute later, Xanthe called from the other room, "Your bath is ready, mistress."

Alkippe made her way into the other room and after shedding her chiton slid into the cool water with a grateful sigh. With Xanthe's help Alkippe quickly washed and then anointed her body with fragrant oils. She dressed herself in an ankle-length black chiton and then sat down at a table on which stood a mirror of polished bronze, an expensive commodity in those days.

"How do you wish me to do your hair?"

"The usual."

Xanthe began to comb out Alkippe's golden-red hair. When not braided and pinned up, her hair fell slightly below her shoulder-blades. Xanthe worked in silence, letting her mistress enjoy the silence that she had lacked while on campaign. She dried Alkippe's hair, carefully braided it, then pinned it to the top of her head in a long coil. When she had finished, Alkippe admired her work quickly in the mirror.

"Your fingers are as nimble as usual, Xanthe!" said Alkippe, "I must leave for Ares' Temple now, but I will return before dusk."

"Do you wish me to tend to your armor?" Xanthe asked as Alkippe rose from her chair.

"No, I will tend to it myself when I return," replied Alkippe, "All you need to do is take my clothes down to the washer women once my things are unpacked and brought up."

Leaving her chambers, Alkippe returned to the courtyard when she had left only an hour or so ago. The courtyard was much more crowded now with slaves, soldiers, and animals unpacking the spoils of the returning Myrmidons. Yet, seeing her, all immediately made way. Just inside the gates, a young slave boy stood holding the lead ropes for two massive bulls. A few feet away, leaning against the stone wall that ran all the way around the citadel, stood Phoenix. At his feet rested a hide bag, presumably holding the armor she had claimed for her patron's temple.

Alkippe slowed as she approached and arched an eyebrow at her waiting lieutenant, "When I told you to leave a soldier or slave to guard my gifts for the Temple, I did not intend for you yourself to do the guarding."

"I have nowhere else to be, my lady," said the greying soldier, "Moreover, warrior, though you are, it would not be wise for you to travel to the Temple without a guard." Phoenix was the son of Amyntor, who ruled in Ormenio far, far to the north. After sleeping with his father's mistress decades earlier, Phoenix had been cursed by his father and then exiled from his homeland. Traveling south, he had eventually come to Phthia and to Peleus' court. Phoenix, an exiled prince without standing or home, had sworn himself to Peleus' service and had served with the Myrmidons for as long as Alkippe could remember.

Alkippe nodded, "Then let us depart. There are miles to go before we can rest, and daylight will not last forever."[2]

The Temple to Ares[3] stood upon a rocky hilltop about four-and-a-half diaulos[4] from the city walls. The walk to the temple from the city took just under two hours. The Temple was large, measuring 55 feet wide and 130 feet long at its outer edges: Alkippe had spared no expense in financing its construction. An old, dour priest, robed in white, stood awaiting them, since, with the rattling of the armor and the lowing of the bulls, their approach could be heard for quite a distance.

"I see you have returned safely once again, princess," he said.

"Ares blessed my sword and protected me, as he has done for years," she replied, raising an eyebrow at the priest's very direct manner of speech, "I have brought gifts for him in thanks: the two finest bulls to be found in the city and a complete set of armor taken as spoils from a dead Thessalian."

With a shouted command the priest summoned two young acolytes from inside the temple. The two boys took the sack with the armor from Phoenix and the lead-ropes for the bulls from the serving boy.

"Will you stay for a time, princess?" The priest asked after a moment.

"No," Alkippe replied, "the hour grows late, and I must return to Larissa before the sun sets. I will return soon to pay my respects at the altar."

"Safe journey," the priest said in farewell before disappearing back into the temple.

The journey back to Larissa took another two hours. The sun was getting low in the sky by the time Alkippe walked through the gates of the citadel alone, having already dismissed Phoenix and the servant. Patroclus was standing waiting on the step of the palace.

"Cousin?" Alkippe was surprised to seeing him waiting for her.

"Aunt Thetis wishes for you to dine with her this evening."

"Of course, I will. What about my brother?"

"He will dine with the king and several of his advisors to tell of the war in Thessaly and the continuing tensions with Agamemnon," Patroclus replied apologetically.

Alkippe frowned and ground her teeth with annoyance at her father's blatant snub of her role with the Myrmidons. She took a deep breath and composed herself. "Let my wash the dust from my feet and then I will join Mother. … Will you eat with us, Patroclus?"

"Aunt Thetis already asked me to."

"Good," Alkippe gave a small smile.

Together, the two entered the palace: Patroclus heading toward the queen's chambers to inform Thetis of her daughter's answer, Alkippe heading towards her own chambers to wash up.

In some ways, Alkippe thought to herself, it is good to be home. I did not miss having to deal with Father. But I missed Mother and Patroclus. I missed the peace and quiet of Larissa. No matter the skill and protection Ares gives me, no matter the wars I fight in across Greece, Larissa shall always be my home.

Little did Alkippe know that night that she would have only weeks left to enjoy her quiet life with her family in Larissa before the rash actions of a foreign prince would bring disaster upon Greece and would change the fate of her family forever.

[1] A diaulos is a Greek unit of measurement which equals approximately 2.2 km or 1.36 miles.

[2] "Miles to go before we can rest" is almost a direct quote from Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" with only a slight change to fix the context of Alkippe's statement.

[3] The description of this temple is modeled on the description of the Temple of Concordia in Sicily.

[4] A diaulos is a Greek unit of measurement which equals approximately 2.2 km or 1.36 miles.