There was movement from the woods at my side, and I jerked my head towards it. Too late.
Something—someone—struck me from behind, throwing me forward. I landed heavily, facedown on
the ground, with the person already on top of me. I closed my eyes and waited for a knife.
There was nothing. Nothing but silence and the knees that pinned my back. A moment passed, and it
came to me that the knees were not so very heavy and were placed so that their pressure did not hurt.
I did not move.
The knees lifted, and hands reached down to turn me, gently, over. Achilles was looking down at