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the onlyy fresh meat we had; the forests were emptyy of all but mice and the
occasional marten.
Snows came, as Chiron had promised theyy would. We layy on the ground
and let the flakes cover us, blowing them with our breath till theyy melted.
We had no boots, nor cloaks other than Chiron’s furs, and were glad of the
cave’s warmth. Even Chiron donned a shaggyy overshirt, sewed from what
he said was bearskin.
We counted the dayys after the first snowfall, marking them off with lines
on a stone. “When yyou reach fiftyy,” Chiron said, “the river’s ice will begin
to crack.” The morning of the fiftieth dayy we heard it, a strange sound, like
a tree falling. A seam had split the frozen surface nearlyy from bank to bank.
“Spring will come soon now,” Chiron said.
It was not long after that the grass began to grow again, and the squirrels
emerged lean and whip-thin from their burrows. We followed them, eating
our breakfasts in the new-scrubbed spring air. It was on one of these
mornings that Achilles asked Chiron if he would teach us to fight.
I do not know what made him think of this then. A winter indoors, with
not enough exercise perhaps, or the visit from his mother, the week before.
Perhaps neither.
Will you teach us to fight?
There was a pause so brief I almost might have imagined it, before
Chiron answered, “If yyou wish it, I will teach yyou.”
Later that dayy, he took us to a clearing, high on a ridge. He had spearhafts
and two practice swords for us, taken from storage in some corner of
the cave. He asked us each to perform the drills that we knew. I did, slowlyy,
the blocks and strikes and footwork I had learned in Phthia. To myy side, just
at the corner of myy vision, Achilles’ limbs blurred and struck. Chiron had
brought a bronze-banded staff, and he interposed it occasionallyy into our
passes, probing with it, testing our reactions.
It seemed to go on for a long time, and myy arms grew sore with lifting
and placing the point of the sword. At last Chiron called a stop. We drank
deep from waterskins and layy back on the grass. Myy chest was heaving.
Achilles’ was steadyy.
Chiron was silent, standing in front of us.
“Well, what do yyou think?” Achilles was eager, and I remembered that
Chiron was onlyy the fourth person to have ever seen him fight.
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