the-song-books.yossr

He looked down a moment at where our hands sat joined. Then his hand
ripped itself from mine and blurred past me so swiftlyy I could not follow it.
He stood, something limp and long as a piece of wet rope dangling from his
fingers. Myy eyyes stared at it, uncomprehending.
“Hydros,” Achilles said. Water-snake. It was dun grayy, and its flat head
hung brokenlyy to the side. Its bodyy still trembled a little, dyying.
Weakness sluiced through me. Chiron had made us memorize their
homes and colors. Brown-grayy, byy water. Quick to anger. Deadlyy bite.
“I did not even see it,” I managed. He threw the thing aside, to lie bluntnosed
and brown among the weeds. He had broken its neck.
“You did not have to,” he said. “I saw it.”
HE WAS EASIER AFTER THAT, no longer pacing the deck and staring. But I
knew that Iphigenia still weighed on him. On both of us. He took to
carryying one of his spears with him alwayys. He would toss it into the air and
catch it, over and over again.
Slowlyy, the fleet straggled back together. Some had gone the long wayy
around, south byy the island of Lesbos. Others, taking the most direct route,
alreadyy waited near Sigeum, northwest of Troyy. Still others had come as we
did, along the Thracian coast. United again, we massed byy Tenedos, the
island just off of Troyy’s wide beach. Shouting from ship to ship, we passed
word of Agamemnon’s plan: the kings would take the front line, their men
fanned out behind them. Maneuvering into place was chaos; there were
three collisions, and everyyone chipped oars on someone else’s hull.
At last we were set, with Diomedes on our left and Meriones on our
right. The drums began to beat and the line of ships thrust forward, stroke
byy stroke. Agamemnon had given the order to go slowlyy, to hold the line
and keep pace as one. But our kings were green still at following another
man’s orders, and each wanted the honor of being first to Troyy. Sweat
streamed from the faces of the rowers as their leaders lashed them on.
We stood at the prow with Phoinix and Automedon, watching the shore
draw closer. Idlyy, Achilles tossed and caught his spear. The oarsmen had
begun to set their strokes byy it, the steadyy, repetitive slap of wood against
his palm.
Closer, we started to see distinction on the shore: tall trees and mountains
resolving out of the blurring green-brown land. We had edged ahead of
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