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116 pages, Paperback
First published March 15, 2001
"Now he pins her down, all his hurt, unmet tenderness turned to indignation. He bends back her fingers to make her release the flint and she makes those fingers her weapons, tearing his face, stabbing at eyes. His knee bent across her ribs, holding her down, he covers her face with one hand, the heel of the other hand cradling the back of her skull, and pushes. He feels her body trying to arch beneath him, the resistance of her head as she struggles to free it. He pushes on. Pushes and then, with practised economy, twists. He holds her a little longer. Waiting for the turmoil of the body to quieten. Waiting for it to be over." (p. 53)
"Ajax and Menelaus have rescued the poor, heavy, mangled body.... Achilles washes the dear flesh. He tells Patroclus he will not sleep till Hector is dead. Nor will he eat.
Achilles of the loud war cry lets out his war cry...
and the Achaeans regroup. Each man of them merry and agile for war.
The Trojans shit themselves. (p. 33)
"It is Machaon, the surgeon, who follows Thetis into the heart of the ash-field, who lifts the skull of Achilles from the dust. He wipes the dust from it and gazes with humble reverence into the dark hollows that housed the eye-pits. He walks over to Thetis. Gently he sets the skull down at the top of her bundle of bones.
Like the jar which Hephaestus gave her she has to hold it in place with her chin to keep it from rolling off." (p. 69)

