A Memory Of Wind Part 4

The wind of my forgetfulness battered against him. Effortlessly, Achilles buffeted against its strength.

"I've changed my mind," he said. "It takes courage to walk calmly to your death. I wouldn't mind marrying you. Talk to me. I only need a little persuasion. Tell me why I should save your life."

Voiceless, I marched onward.

I forgot you.

They washed and perfumed me and decked me with the things that smell sweet. You came before me.

"My sweet Iphigenia," you said. "If there was anything I could do to stop it, I would, but I can't. Don't you see?"

You brushed your fingers along my cheek. I watched them, no longer certain what they were.

"Iphigenia, I have no right, but I've come to ask for your pardon. Can you forgive me for what I've done?"

I stared at you with empty eyes, my brows furrowed, my body cleansed and prepared. Who are you? Who are you? asked my flesh. asked my flesh.

They led me into Artemis's sacred s.p.a.ce. Wild things cl.u.s.tered, lush and pungent, around the courtyard. The leaves tossed as I pa.s.sed them, shuddering in my wind. Sunlight glinted off of the armor of a dozen men who were gathered to see the beginning of their war. Iamas was there, too, weeping as he watched.

Calchas pushed his way toward me as if he were approaching through a gale, his garment billowing around him. I recognized the red ribbons on his headband, his indigo eyes, his taut and joyless smile.

"You would have been beautiful one day, too," she said.

Not as beautiful as you.

"No one is as beautiful as I."

His breath stank with rotting fish, unless that was other men, another time. He held a jeweled twig in his hand-but I knew it would be your hand that killed me. Calchas was only an instrument, like Helen, like the twig.

He lifted the jeweled twig to catch the sun. I didn't move. He drew it across my throat.

My body forgot to be a body. I disappeared.

Artemis held me like a child holds a dandelion. With a single breath, she blew the wind in my body out of my girl's shape.

I died.

Feel me now. I tumble through your camp, upturning tents as a child knocks over his toys. Beneath me, the sea rumbles. Enormous waves whip across the water, powerful enough to drown you all.

"Too strong!" shouts Menelaus.

Achilles claps him on the back. "It'll be a son of a b.i.t.c.h, but it'll get us there faster!"

Mother lies by the remnants of the tent and refuses to move. Iamas tugs on her garment, trying to stir her. She cries and cries, and I taste her tears. They become salt on my wind.

Orestes wails for mother's attention. He puts his mouth to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but she cannot give him the comfort of suckling. I ruffle his hair and blow a chill embrace around him. His eyes grow big and frightened. I love him, but I can only hug him harder, for I am a wind.

Achilles stands at the prow of one of the ships, boasting of what he'll do to the citizens of Troy. Menelaus jabs his sword into my breeze and laughs. "I'll ram Paris like he's done to Helen," he brags. Odysseus laughs.

I see you now, my father, standing away from the others, your face turned toward Troy. I blow and scream and whisper.

You smile at first, and turn to Calchas. "It's my daughter!"

The priest looks up from cleaning his b.l.o.o.d.y dagger. "What did you say?"

I whip cold fury between your ears. Your face goes pale, and you clap your hands to the sides of your head, but my voice is the sound of the wind. It is undeniable.

Do you still want forgiveness, father?

"Set sail!" you shout. "It's time to get out of this harbor!"

I am vast and undeniable. I will crush you all with my strength and whirl your boats to the bottom of the sea. I'll spin your corpses through the air and dash them against the cliffs.

But no, I am helpless again, always and ever a hostage to someone else's desires. With ease, Artemis imposes her will on my wild fury. I feel the tension of her hands drawing me back like a bowstring. With one strong, smooth motion, she aims me at your fleet. Fiercely, implacably, I blow you to Troy.