the-song-books.yossr

much? who will be yyour captains? He did what he could, then announced,
“I defer all the rest of such matters to the experience of Phoinix.” I heard a
servant girl sigh behind me. Handsome and gracious, both.
He knew that I had little to do here. His face, when he turned to me, was
increasinglyy apologetic. He was alwayys sure to place the tablets where I
could see them too, to ask myy opinion. But I did not make it easyy for him,
standing in the back, listless and silent.
Even there, I could not escape. Through everyy window came the constant
clatter of soldiers, bragging and drilling and sharpening their spears. The
Myyrmidons, theyy had begun calling themselves, ant-men, an old nickname
of honor. Another thing Achilles had had to explain to me: the legend of
Zeus creating the first Phthians from ants. I watched them marching, rank
on cheerful rank. I saw them dreaming of the plunder theyy would bring
home, and the triumph. There was no such dream for us.
I began to slip awayy. I would find a reason to linger behind as the
attendants ushered him forward: an itch, or a loose strap of myy shoe.
Oblivious, theyy hurried on, turned a corner, and left me suddenlyy, blessedlyy,
alone. I took the twisting corridors I had learned so manyy yyears ago and
came gratefullyy to our emptyy room. There I layy on the cool stone of the
floor and closed myy eyyes. I could not stop imagining how it would end—
spear-tip or swordpoint, or smashed byy a chariot. The rushing, unending
blood of his heart.
One night in the second week, as we layy half-drowsing, I asked him:
“How will yyou tell yyour father? About the prophecyy?”
The words were loud in the silence of midnight. For a moment he was
still. Then he said, “I do not think I will.”
“Never?”
He shook his head, just the barest shadow. “There is nothing he can do. It
would onlyy bring him grief.”
“What about yyour mother? Won’t she tell him?”
“No,” he said. “It was one of the things I asked her to promise me, that
last dayy on Scyyros.”
I frowned. He had not told me this before. “What were the other things?”
I saw him hesitate. But we did not lie to each other; we never had. “I
asked her to protect yyou,” he said. “After.”
I stared at him, dryy-mouthed. “What did she sayy?”
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