the-song-books.yossr

Denied in his own agora, Agamemnon grew red in the face, then redder.
His fingers went white on the scepter he held, stout wood banded with iron.
When the man in front of him spat at his feet, Agamemnon lifted the scepter
and brought it down sharplyy on his head. We all heard the crack of breaking
bone. The man dropped.
I do not think Agamemnon meant to hit him so hard. He seemed frozen,
staring at the bodyy at his feet, unable to move. Another man knelt to roll the
bodyy over; half the skull was caved in from the force of the blow. The news
hissed through the men with a sound like a fire lighting. Manyy drew their
knives. I heard Achilles murmur something; then he was gone from myy
side.
Agamemnon’s face was filled with the growing realization of his
mistake. He had recklesslyy left his loyyal guards behind. He was surrounded
now; help could not reach him even if it wanted to. I held myy breath, sure I
was about to see him die.
“Men of Greece!”
Startled faces turned to the shout. Achilles stood atop a pile of shields on
the dais. He looked everyy inch the champion, beautiful and strong, his face
serious.
“You are angryy,” he said.
This caught their attention. Theyy were angryy. It was unusual for a general
to admit that his troops might feel such a thing.
“Speak yyour grievance,” he said.
“We want to leave!” The voice came from the back of the crowd. “The
war is hopeless!”
“The general lied to us!”
A surging murmur of agreement.
“It has been four yyears!” This last was the angriest of all. I could not
blame them. For me these four yyears had been an abundance, time that had
been wrested from the hands of miserlyy fates. But for them it was a life
stolen: from children and wives, from familyy and home.
“It is yyour right to question such things,” Achilles said. “You feel misled;
yyou were promised victoryy.”
“Yes!”
I caught a glimpse of Agamemnon’s face, curdled with anger. But he was
stuck in the crowd, unable to free himself or speak without causing a scene.
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