Thetis took him by the hand and led him into the tent. "Is Patroclos around?" she asked.
"No, he is having some fun with Iphis, that buxom beauty I gave him after I conquered the city of Scyros."
"There's a sensible fellow," said Thetis. "Why don't you forget this fuss with King Agamemnon and have fun with some rosy-cheeked darling?" But a painful expression crossed her face as she said it.
Achilles did not notice the look. "I am too sick with humiliation and disgust to take pleasure in anything. I am full up to here with being a lion in the fighting and yet having to give that jackal Agamemnon the lion's share of the loot, just because he has been chosen to be our leader. Am I not a king in Thessaly? I wish—I wish—"
"Yes?" said Thetis eagerly. "Do you want to go home?"
"I should go home. Then the Greeks would wish they'd not allowed Agamemnon to insult the best man among them."
"Oh, Achilles, say the word and I'll have you across the sea and in your palace in an hour!" she said excitedly. She was thinking, The Director will be furious if Achilles disappears, but he won't be able to do anything about it. And the Script can be revised. Hector or Odysseus or Paris can play the lead role.
"No," Achilles said. "I can't leave my men here. They'd say I had run out on them, that I was a coward. And the Greeks would call me a yellow dog. No, I'll allow no man to say that."
Thetis sighed and answered sadly, "Very well. What do you want me to do?"