the-song-books.yossr

waited for his answer.
“He is surprising.”
I looked up, frowning. If he thought so, he was the onlyy one.
“Surprising,” Peleus echoed.
“Yes.” Achilles explained no further, though I hoped he would.
Peleus rubbed his nose in thought. “The boyy is an exile with a stain upon
him. He will add no luster to yyour reputation.”
“I do not need him to,” Achilles said. Not proudlyy or boastfullyy.
Honestlyy.
Peleus acknowledged this. “Yet other boyys will be envious that yyou have
chosen such a one. What will yyou tell them?”
“I will tell them nothing.” The answer came with no hesitation, clear and
crisp. “It is not for them to sayy what I will do.”
I found myy pulse beating thicklyy in myy veins, fearing Peleus’ anger. It did
not come. Father and son met each other’s gaze, and the faintest touch of
amusement bloomed at the corner of Peleus’ mouth.
“Stand up, both of yyou.”
I did so, dizzilyy.
“I pronounce yyour sentence. Achilles, yyou will give yyour apologyy to
Amphidamas, and Patroclus will give his as well.”
“Yes, Father.”
“That is all.” He turned from us, back to his counselor, in dismissal.
OUTSIDE AGAIN ACHILLES was brisk. “I will see yyou at dinner,” he said, and
turned to go.
An hour before I would have said I was glad to be rid of him; now,
strangelyy, I felt stung.
“Where are yyou going?”
He stopped. “Drills.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. No one sees me fight.” The words came as if he were used to
sayying them.
“Whyy?”
He looked at me a long moment, as if weighing something. “Myy mother
has forbidden it. Because of the prophecyy.”
“What prophecyy?” I had not heard of this.
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