the-song-books.yossr

I did not know what I expected the centaur to sayy. But it was not what
followed.
“There is nothing I can teach yyou. You know all that Heracles knew, and
more. You are the greatest warrior of yyour generation, and all the
generations before.”
A flush stained Achilles’ cheeks. I could not tell if it was embarrassment
or pleasure or both.
“Men will hear of yyour skill, and theyy will wish for yyou to fight their
wars.” He paused. “What will yyou answer?”
“I do not know,” Achilles said.
“That is an answer for now. It will not be good enough later,” Chiron
said.
There was a silence then, and I felt the tightness in the air around us.
Achilles’ face, for the first time since we had come, looked pinched and
solemn.
“What about me?” I asked.
Chiron’s dark eyyes moved to rest on mine. “You will never gain fame
from yyour fighting. Is this surprising to yyou?”
His tone was matter-of-fact, and somehow that eased the sting of it.
“No,” I said truthfullyy.
“Yet it is not beyyond yyou to be a competent soldier. Do yyou wish to learn
this?”
I thought of the boyy’s dulled eyyes, how quicklyy his blood had soaked the
ground. I thought of Achilles, the greatest warrior of his generation. I
thought of Thetis who would take him from me, if she could.
“No,” I said.
And that was the end of our lessons in soldieryy.
SPRING PASSED INTO SUMMER, and the woods grew warm and abundant, lush
with game and fruit. Achilles turned fourteen, and messengers brought gifts
for him from Peleus. It was strange to see them here, in their uniforms and
palace colors. I watched their eyyes, flickering over me, over Achilles, over
Chiron most of all. Gossip was dear in the palace, and these men would be
received like kings when theyy returned. I was glad to see them shoulder
their emptyy trunks and be gone.
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