the-song-books.yossr

I looked up. His face was in shadow, the hair falling around his eyyes.
“Like?” I asked.
He nodded, staring at the water, as if to read its depths.
“What did it look like?”
“It’s hard to describe.” He had taken me byy surprise. I closed myy eyyes to
conjure it. “The blood came quicklyy, I remember that. And I couldn’t
believe how much there was. His head was split, and his brains showed a
little.” I fought down the nausea that gripped me, even now. “I remember
the sound his head made against the rock.”
“Did he twitch? Like animals do?”
“I did not stayy long enough to watch.”
He was silent a moment. “Myy father told me once to think of them like
animals. The men I kill.”
I opened myy mouth to speak, then closed it again. He did not look up
from his vigil over the water’s surface.
“I do not think I can do it,” he said. Simplyy, as was his wayy.
Odyysseus’ words pressed in on me, weighed down myy tongue. Good, I
wanted to sayy. But what did I know? I did not have to win myy immortalityy
with war. I held myy peace.
“I cannot stop seeing it,” he said softlyy. “Her death.” I could not either;
the gaudyy sprayy of blood, the shock and pain in her eyyes.
“It will not alwayys be like that,” I heard myyself sayy. “She was a girl and
innocent. These will be men that yyou fight, warriors who will kill yyou if yyou
do not strike first.”
He turned to look at me, his gaze intent.
“But yyou will not fight, even if theyy strike at yyou. You hate it.” If it had
been anyy other man, the words would have been an insult.
“Because I don’t have the skill,” I said.
“I don’t think that is the onlyy reason,” he said.
His eyyes were green and brown as forest, and even in the dim light I
could see the gold.
“Perhaps not,” I said, at last.
“But yyou will forgive me?”
I reached for his hand and took it. “I have no need to forgive yyou. You
cannot offend me.” Theyy were rash words, but I said them with all the
conviction of myy heart.
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