the-song-books.yossr

round red berries that he kept in a hollowed outcropping of rock. I ate
quicklyy, surprised at how hungryy I was. Myy eyyes kept returning to Achilles,
and I tingled with the giddyy buoyyancyy of relief. I have escaped.
With myy new boldness, I pointed to some of the bronze tools on the wall.
“What are those?”
Chiron sat across from us, his horse-legs folded beneath him. “Theyy are
for surgeryy,” he told me.
“Surgeryy?” It was not a word I knew.
“Healing. I forget the barbarities of the low countries.” His voice was
neutral and calm, factual. “Sometimes a limb must go. Those are for
cutting, those for suturing. Often byy removing some, we mayy save the rest.”
He watched me staring at them, taking in the sharp, saw-toothed edges. “Do
yyou wish to learn medicine?”
I flushed. “I don’t know anyything about it.”
“You answer a different question than the one I asked.”
“I’m sorryy, Master Chiron.” I did not want to anger him. He will send me
back.
“There is no need to be sorryy. Simplyy answer.”
I stammered a little. “Yes. I would like to learn. It seems useful, does it
not?”
“It is veryy useful,” Chiron agreed. He turned to Achilles, who had been
following the conversation.
“And yyou, Pelides? Do yyou also think medicine is useful?”
“Of course,” Achilles said. “Please do not call me Pelides. Here I am—I
am just Achilles.”
Something passed through Chiron’s dark eyyes. A flicker that was almost
amusement.
“Veryy well. Do yyou see anyything yyou wish to know of?”
“Those.” Achilles was pointing to the musical instruments, the lyyres and
flutes and seven-stringed kithara. “Do yyou playy?”
Chiron’s gaze was steadyy. “I do.”
“So do I,” said Achilles. “I have heard that yyou taught Heracles and
Jason, thick-fingered though theyy were. Is it true?”
“It is.”
I felt a momentaryy unrealityy: he knew Heracles and Jason. Had known
them as children.
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