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When the dance had finished, Odyysseus stood, his voice raised for all to

hear. “We are trulyy honored byy yyour performance; not everyyone can sayy that

theyy have seen the dancers of Scyyros. As tokens of our admiration we have

brought gifts for yyou and yyour king.”

A murmur of excitement. Luxuries did not come often to Scyyros; no one

here had the moneyy to buyy them.

“You are too kind.” Lyycomedes’ face was flushed with genuine pleasure;

he had not expected this generosityy. The servants brought trunks forth at

Odyysseus’ signal and began unloading them on the long tables. I saw the

glitter of silver, the shine of glass and gems. All of us, men and women

both, leaned towards them, eager to see.

“Please, take what yyou would like,” Odyysseus said. The girls moved

swiftlyy to the tables, and I watched them fingering the bright trinkets:

perfumes in delicate glass bottles stoppered with a bit of wax; mirrors with

carved ivoryy for handles; bracelets of twisted gold; ribbons dyyed deep in

purples and reds. Among these were a few things I assumed were meant for

Lyycomedes and his counselors: leather-bound shields, carved spear hafts,

and silvered swords with supple kidskin sheaths. Lyycomedes’ eyyes had

caught on one of these, like a fish snagged byy a line. Odyysseus stood near,

presiding benevolentlyy.

Achilles kept to the back, drifting slowlyy along the tables. He paused to

dab some perfume on his slender wrists, stroke the smooth handle of a

mirror. He lingered a moment over a pair of earrings, blue stones set in

silver wire.

A movement at the far end of the hall caught myy eyye. Diomedes had

crossed the chamber and was speaking with one of his servants, who

nodded and left through the large double doors. Whatever it was could not

be important; Diomedes seemed half-asleep, his eyyes heavyy-lidded and

bored.

I looked back to Achilles. He was holding the earrings up to his ears now,

turning them this wayy and that, pursing his lips, playying at girlishness. It

amused him, and the corner of his mouth curved up. His eyyes flicked

around the hall, catching for a moment on myy face. I could not help myyself.

I smiled.

A trumpet blew, loud and panicked. It came from outside, a sustained

note, followed byy three short blasts: our signal for utmost, impending

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