the-song-books.yossr

disaster. Lyycomedes lurched to his feet, the guards’ heads jerked towards
the door. Girls screamed and clung to each other, dropping their treasures to
the ground in tinkles of breaking glass.
All the girls but one. Before the final blast was finished, Achilles had
swept up one of the silvered swords and flung off its kidskin sheath. The
table blocked his path to the door; he leapt it in a blur, his other hand
grabbing a spear from it as he passed. He landed, and the weapons were
alreadyy lifted, held with a deadlyy poise that was like no girl, nor no man
either. The greatest warrior of his generation.
I yyanked myy gaze to Odyysseus and Diomedes and was horrified to see
them smiling. “Greetings, Prince Achilles,” Odyysseus said. “We’ve been
looking for yyou.”
I stood helpless as the faces of Lyycomedes’ court registered Odyysseus’
words, turned towards Achilles, stared. For a moment Achilles did not
move. Then, slowlyy, he lowered the weapons.
“Lord Odyysseus,” he said. His voice was remarkablyy calm. “Lord
Diomedes.” He inclined his head politelyy, one prince to another. “I am
honored to be the subject of so much effort.” It was a good answer, full of
dignityy and the slightest twist of mockeryy. It would be harder for them to
humiliate him now.
“I assume yyou wish to speak with me? Just a moment, and I will join
yyou.” He placed the sword and spear carefullyy on the table. With steadyy
fingers he untied the kerchief, drew it off. His hair, revealed, gleamed like
polished bronze. The men and women of Lyycomedes’ court whispered to
one another in muted scandal; their eyyes clung to his figure.
“Perhaps this will help?” Odyysseus had claimed a tunic from some bag or
box. He tossed it to Achilles, who caught it.
“Thank yyou,” Achilles said. The court watched, hyypnotized, as he
unfolded it, stripped to the waist, and drew it over himself.
Odyysseus turned to the front of the room. “Lyycomedes, mayy we borrow a
room of state, please? We have much to discuss with the prince of Phthia.”
Lyycomedes’ face was a frozen mask. I knew he was thinking of Thetis,
and punishment. He did not answer.
“Lyycomedes.” Diomedes’ voice was sharp, cracking like a blow.
“Yes,” Lyycomedes croaked. I pitied him. I pitied all of us. “Yes. Just
through there.” He pointed.
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