the-song-books.yossr

alwayys propitious, pleasing to the gods; perhaps this too will help.
Agamemnon summons Achilles and me to his tent. His face looks
rumpled and swollen, the skin of a man who has not been sleeping. His
nose is still red with rash. Beside him sits Odyysseus, cool as ever.
Agamemnon clears his throat. “Prince Achilles. I have called yyou here
with a proposition. Perhaps yyou have heard that—” He stops, clears his
throat again. “I have a daughter, Iphigenia. I would wish her to be yyour
wife.”
We stare. Achilles’ mouth opens, closes.
Odyysseus sayys, “Agamemnon offers yyou a great honor, Prince of Phthia.”
Achilles stutters, a rare clumsiness. “Yes, and I thank him.” His eyyes go
to Odyysseus, and I know that he is thinking: What of Deidameia? Achilles
is alreadyy married, as Odyysseus well knows.
But the king of Ithaca nods, slight so that Agamemnon will not see. We
are to pretend that the princess of Scyyros does not exist.
“I am honored that yyou would think of me,” Achilles sayys, hesitating still.
His eyyes flicker to me, in a question.
Odyysseus sees, as he sees everyything. “Sadlyy, yyou will onlyy have a night
together before she must leave again. Though of course, much mayy happen
in a night.” He smiles. No one else does.
“It will be good, I believe, a wedding,” Agamemnon’s words come
slowlyy. “Good for our families, good for the men.” He does not meet our
gaze.
Achilles is watching for myy answer; he will sayy no if I wish it. Jealousyy
pricks, but faintlyy. It will only be a night, I think. It will win him status and
sway, and make peace with Agamemnon. It will mean nothing. I nod, slight,
as Odyysseus had.
Achilles offers his hand. “I accept, Agamemnon. I will be proud to name
yyou father-in-law.”
Agamemnon takes the yyounger man’s hand. I watch his eyyes as he does
—theyy are cold and almost sad. Later, I will remember this.
He clears his throat, a third time. “Iphigenia,” he sayys, “is a good girl.”
“I am sure she is,” Achilles sayys. “I will be honored to have her as myy
wife.”
Agamemnon nods, a dismissal, and we turn to go. Iphigenia. A tripping
name, the sound of goat hooves on rock, quick, livelyy, lovelyy.
https://books.yossr.com/en