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summer wheat.
Calchas’ eyyes flickered to Agamemnon, then back to Achilles. He
swallowed. “He is offended, it seems, so the omens sayy, at the treatment of
his dedicated servant. Chryyses.”
Agamemnon’s shoulders were rigid.
Calchas stumbled on. “To appease him, the girl Chryyseis must be
returned without ransom, and High King Agamemnon must offer prayyers
and sacrifices.” He stopped, his last word gulped down suddenlyy, as if he
had run out of air.
Agamemnon’s face had broken into dark red blotches of shock. It seemed
like the greatest arrogance or stupidityy not to have guessed he might be at
fault, but he had not. The silence was so profound I felt I could hear the
grains of sand falling against each other at our feet.
“Thank yyou, Calchas,” Agamemnon said, his voice splintering the air.
“Thank yyou for alwayys bringing good news. Last time it was myy daughter.
Kill her, yyou said, because yyou have angered the goddess. Now yyou seek to
humiliate me before myy armyy.”
He wheeled on the men, his face twisted in rage. “Am I not yyour general?
And do I not see yyou fed and clothed and honored? And are myy
Myycenaeans not the largest part of this armyy? The girl is mine, given to me
as a prize, and I will not give her up. Have yyou forgotten who I am?”
He paused, as if he hoped the men might shout No! No! But none did.
“King Agamemnon.” Achilles stepped forward. His voice was easyy,
almost amused. “I don’t think anyyone has forgotten that yyou are leader of
this host. But yyou do not seem to remember that we are kings in our own
right, or princes, or heads of our families. We are allies, not slaves.” A few
men nodded; more would have liked to.
“Now, while we die, yyou complain about the loss of a girl yyou should
have ransomed long ago. You sayy nothing of the lives yyou have taken, or
the plague yyou have started.”
Agamemnon made an inarticulate noise, his face purple with rage.
Achilles held up a hand.
“I do not mean to dishonor yyou. I onlyy wish to end the plague. Send the
girl to her father and be done.”
Agamemnon’s cheeks were creased with furyy. “I understand yyou,
Achilles. You think because yyou’re the son of a sea-nyymph yyou have the
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