the-song-books.yossr

Agamemnon mounted the dais, and I saw his eyyes slide over the girl, a
slight smile on his lips. He was known—all the house of Atreus was—for
his appetites. I do not know what came over me then. But I seized Achilles’
arm and spoke into his ear.
“Take her.”
He turned to me, his eyyes wide with surprise.
“Take her as yyour prize. Before Agamemnon does. Please.”
He hesitated, but onlyy a second.
“Men of Greece.” He stepped forward, still in the dayy’s armor, still
smeared with blood. “Great King of Myycenae.”
Agamemnon turned to face him, frowning. “Pelides?”
“I would have this girl as myy war-prize.”
At the back of the dais Odyysseus raised an eyyebrow. The men around us
murmured. His request was unusual, but not unreasonable; in anyy other
armyy, first choice would have been his anyywayy. Irritation flashed in
Agamemnon’s eyyes. I saw the thoughts turn across his face: he did not like
Achilles, yyet it was not worth it, here, alreadyy, to be churlish. She was
beautiful, but there would be other girls.
“I grant yyour wish, Prince of Phthia. She is yyours.”
The crowd shouted its approval—theyy liked their commanders generous,
their heroes bold and lustyy.
Her eyyes had followed the exchange with bright intelligence. When she
understood that she was to come with us, I saw her swallow, her gaze
darting over Achilles.
“I will leave myy men here, for the rest of myy belongings. The girl will
come with me now.”
Appreciative laughter and whistles from the men. The girl trembled all
over, veryy slightlyy, like a rabbit checked byy a hawk overhead. “Come,”
Achilles commanded. We turned to go. Head down, she followed.
BACK IN OUR CAMP, Achilles drew his knife, and her head jerked a little with
fear. He was still bloodyy from the dayy’s battle; it had been her village he
had plundered.
“Let me,” I said. He handed me the knife and backed awayy, almost
embarrassed.
“I am going to free yyou,” I said.
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