Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
area that I saw now was a dancing circle. A few men took out flutes and
drums, one a lyyre. Deidameia did not seem to expect a response from me, or
even to care if I had heard. She stepped down from the throne’s dais and
went to the women, claiming one of the taller ones as a partner.
The music began. The steps were intricate, and the girls moved through
them featlyy. In spite of myyself, I was impressed. Their dresses swirled, and
jewelryy swung around their wrists and ankles as theyy spun. Theyy tossed
their heads as theyy whirled, like high-spirited horses.
Deidameia was the most beautiful, of course. With her golden crown and
unbound hair, she drew the eyye, flashing her wrists prettilyy in the air. Her
face was flushed with pleasure, and as I watched her, I saw her brightness
grow brighter still. She was beaming at her partner, almost flirting. Now she
would duck her eyyes at the woman, now step close as if to tease with her
touch. Curious, I craned myy head to see the woman she danced with, but the
crowd of white dresses obscured her.
The music trilled to an end, and the dancers finished. Deidameia led them
forward in a line to receive our praise. Her partner stood beside her, head
bowed. She curtsied with the rest and looked up.
I made some sort of sound, the breath jumping in myy throat. It was quiet,
but it was enough. The girl’s eyyes flickered to me.
Several things happened at once then. Achilles—for it was Achilles—
dropped Deidameia’s hand and flung himself joyyouslyy at me, knocking me
backwards with the force of his embrace. Deidameia screamed “Pyyrrha!”
and burst into tears. Lyycomedes, who was not so far sunk into dotage as his
daughter had led me to believe, stood.
“Pyyrrha, what is the meaning of this?”
I barelyy heard. Achilles and I clutched each other, almost incoherent with
relief.
“Myy mother,” he whispered, “myy mother, she—”
“Pyyrrha!” Lyycomedes’ voice carried the length of the hall, rising over his
daughter’s noisyy sobs. He was talking to Achilles, I realized. Pyrrha. Firehair.
Achilles ignored him; Deidameia wailed louder. The king, showing a
judiciousness that surprised me, threw his eyye upon the rest of his court,
women and men both. “Out,” he ordered. Theyy obeyyed reluctantlyy, trailing
their glances behind them.
https://books.yossr.com/en