Oh My Gods, page 29
But crafty Hera replied, “My lord, son of Cronus, what are you saying? We can’t make love here in the open in the middle of the day. What if someone were to see us?”
Then Zeus answered her, “Not to worry. Look, I’m spreading a thick cloud about us that will cover us from sight. Take off your clothes, my dear, I’ve got to have you now!”
And so the pair made love on the grass, hidden from the sight of gods and men by a thick mist. Then, when Zeus was finished, Sleep poured his potion on him so that he fell into a deep slumber.
Hera was up in an instant and flying down the slopes of Olympus to the Greek camp outside Troy. She stirred the Greeks to rally and hold back the Trojans. Ajax even managed to knock Hector out of the fighting for a short time with a rock that hit the Trojan leader on the chest and spun him like a top. Back and forth the tide of battle shifted as one moment the Greeks pushed the Trojans from the ships, then the next they were driven back to the sea.
Patroclus had returned to the camp of Achilles and implored his friend to let him join the fight with their men. Achilles agreed and even gave him his own armor to wear, but warned his dear companion only to drive the Trojans back from the ships, not to take the battle to the city, for he would not be there to stand beside him. Patroclus agreed and put on the shining armor, then led many hundreds of fresh troops into the fight.
The appearance of Patroclus and his men brought hope to the Greeks and terror to their enemies. The Trojans thought that Achilles had finally put aside his anger and was rejoining the fight. With a tremendous roar, the Greeks rallied and pushed the Trojans over the ramparts and back onto the plain. The excitement was so great that the men began to believe they might take Troy itself that day. Patroclus had forgotten the warning of his friend and ordered the men to follow him to the walls of the city.
The Greeks indeed would have taken Troy then if Zeus had not awoken in anger and sent his son Apollo to stand before the ramparts of the city. The young god came up behind Patroclus and slammed him between the shoulders, stunning him like an oxen for sacrifice. A Trojan warrior named Euphorbus then struck him with a spear, but did not bring him down. Immediately Hector was there with his own bronze-tipped spear and stabbed Patroclus clean through the gut so that the blade came out his back. The fair young soldier fell into the dust, his soul flying down to the house of Hades, leaving life behind.
Hector stripped the armor of Achilles off his dead companion and would have taken his corpse back to Troy as well, but Menelaus ran and stood over him like a mother cow protecting her newborn calf. The Greek captain finally drove Hector away and put the body of his comrade into a chariot to return it to the Greek camp for proper funeral rites. Hector let him go, but gloried in his new armor and in the fact that he had killed Patroclus, one of the greatest of the Greek warriors and the closest friend of Achilles.
The son of Peleus and Thetis knew his companion was dead even before the Greeks brought the body to his tent. The wail that went up from the Greek lines told him all he needed to know. When at last the corpse of Patroclus lay before him, Achilles sat in the dust tearing his hair, weeping uncontrollably. He let loose a terrible, wrenching cry so loud that even Thetis in the depths of the sea heard it and came to comfort her son. She told him that as horrible as things seemed, he had gotten what he wanted. Agamemnon had suffered deeply for his pride and the Greeks realized they could not win the war without him.
But Achilles knew all that meant little now that Patroclus was gone. Phoenix had been right. His own pride had cost him that which he loved the most. At last he agreed to set aside his anger and rejoin the fight, with the intention to destroy Hector, even if it meant he himself would soon die. Nothing mattered now but revenge.
Achilles’ mother, Thetis, flew to the home of the divine smith, Hephaestus, to ask the god to make new armor for her son. As Thetis had once rescued him when Zeus threw the god down from Olympus, Hephaestus was happy to help her. He stoked his fire and called on his handmaids—living, breathing girls made of gold who worked the forge with him. Then he set to work on a set of armor like no man had ever seen. The enormous shield was embossed with figures telling stories of two noble cities, one at war, one at peace. On it men and women fought and plowed, died and danced. There were vineyards and palaces, cattle and meadows, weddings and battles—all the world was there, encircled on the rim of the shield by the mighty river of Ocean. He also forged a breastplate gleaming like fire, a sturdy helmet, and greaves to cover the warrior’s legs. Thetis thanked Hephaestus from her heart and winged backed to Troy to present the magnificent gifts to her son, who now armed himself for battle.
Zeus looked down on the plain of Troy and knew his promise to Thetis had been kept. The Greeks honored the young warrior like no other as he marched onto the battlefield to fight the Trojans. The first enemy captain he met was Aeneas, son of the goddess Aphrodite. Achilles would have killed him there, but the gods saved him. They knew it was his fate to preserve the line of Troy and found another, greater city far to the west. Achilles then turned to other Trojans and slaughtered them like sheep. The Scamander that flowed through the plain became so clogged with his victims that the god of the river rose up against the Greek warrior and ordered him to stop. When Achilles refused, the river leapt out of its banks and pursued him across the plain like a tidal wave until Hephaestus came to his aid and used fire to force the river back.
At last Achilles reached the walls of Troy and called Hector forth. His father, mother, and dear wife, Andromache, begged him not to go, but he donned his armor and went through the gates to face the greatest warrior of the age. The two fought like lions with neither gaining the advantage at first, but Hector knew he could not long match the rage of Achilles. At last he turned to flee and ran three times around the walls of Troy while Achilles chased him. Then the goddess Athena appeared to Hector in the form of his brother Deiphobus and told him they would fight together against their foe. Hector rallied and turned to make his stand against Achilles, but as the Greek warrior drew near, Deiphobus vanished and Hector knew he was doomed. He fought bravely, but finally Achilles triumphed and drove his spear deep into Hector’s neck. As Hector breathed his last, Achilles gloried over him and promised the fallen soldier that the dogs and birds would soon feast on his corpse. When the soul of the Trojan had departed, Achilles pierced the tendons of his feet with rawhide and dragged his body back to the Greek camp in the dust while his family on the walls looked on in horror. No one had ever treated an enemy so, but the anger of Achilles and his grief over the death of Patroclus knew no bounds.
The funeral rites for Patroclus were splendid and included the sacrifice of horses, dogs, and Trojan captives. All the while the corpse of Hector lay unburied in the camp of Achilles, though the gods preserved it from decay. Zeus favored Achilles, but he could not allow him to dishonor the dead so. He sent Thetis to him to demand he take a ransom for the body of his enemy. Achilles reluctantly agreed, but only if some warrior of the Trojans was brave enough to cross the lines and claim him.
Later that night, King Priam had a vision telling him to go to Achilles and redeem the body of his son. His wife and family said he was mad to put himself into the hands of the monster who had so brutalized Hector, but the old man had no fear. Guided by Hermes, Priam drove a cart across the plain alone in the darkness. When he came to the tent of Achilles, he entered it and fell down on his knees before the warrior. He took the hands of Achilles—the very hands that had killed his son—and kissed them, asking him to give him the corpse for a proper burial.
Achilles was stunned to see the old king before him and was moved with pity. He thought of his own aged father, Peleus, across the sea whom he would never see again. He thought of all the young men who had fallen and died on the battlefield in hope of eternal glory, though now they were but dust and ashes. And at last he thought of his beloved Patroclus, who loved life so, but perished in the bloom of youth, never to rise again. Memory and remorse overcame both men in the tent that night, tears pouring down their faces as they realized the true cost of war.
Achilles carried the body of Hector to Priam’s cart and laid him gently inside. He then bade Priam farewell and sent him back to Troy under safe conduct, granting him ten days of peace to mourn and bury his son. The women of the city keened songs of sorrow when they saw the corpse of noble Hector entering the gates. He was the best among them, both as warrior and as a man. His mother, Hecuba, embraced him, then Andromache held him close one last time. The Trojans built a great funeral pyre for their hero and burned his body as was proper. When the flames at last had died away, they gathered his white bones, wrapped them in purple cloth, and laid them at last within a golden chest in a grave.
Hector was dead, but the walls of Troy still stood and new allies were arriving to bolster the still massive army of King Priam. Penthesileia, ruler of the Amazons and a daughter of the war god Ares, rode onto the plain with her warrior women and killed many of the best Greek fighters. But Achilles mortally wounded the queen and then fell in love with her as she lay dying. Once she had breathed her last, Thersites, known among the Greeks for his biting tongue, mocked Achilles for his foolish infatuation until the warrior killed him as well. Achilles also slew Memnon, king of the Ethiopians, who had brought his army all the way from the headwaters of the Nile.
It seemed as if nothing could strike down Achilles, protected as he was by his mother once dipping him in the river Styx. But Apollo knew where he was vulnerable and guided an arrow of Paris to his heel when the Greek captain attacked the Scaean gate of the city. The greatest of the Greek warriors died there, bleeding to death beneath the walls of Troy. The Trojans would have seized his divine armor but Ajax and Odysseus drove them back and carried the corpse of their friend to their camp by the shore. There all the Greeks mourned him and burned his body on a funeral pyre, afterward mixing his ashes with those of his friend Patroclus.
The Greeks then held a contest to see who among them would receive his glorious armor. Ajax argued that he had killed more Trojans than anyone save Achilles and therefore deserved the prize, but Odysseus won the armor with his smooth tongue, claiming that his brains had helped the Greeks more than anyone’s brawn. Ajax became crazed with jealousy and swore he would make the Greek captains pay. That night he rose from his bed and attacked his old friends, slaughtering Agamemnon, Menelaus, and Odysseus among others. But when dawn came, he returned to his senses and discovered he had killed only a herd of sheep. More humiliated than ever, he went to a secluded cave near the beach and killed himself with his own sword.
The Greeks were no closer to taking the city of Troy than they had been ten years earlier. When they asked the seer Calchas what they must do to win the war, he said they needed the weapons of Hercules left with Philoctetes, whom they had abandoned on the island of Lemnos a decade earlier. A delegation arrived to bring Philoctetes to the Greek camp in spite of his still-stinking wound. Once on the beach at Troy, the injured man was healed by a skilled physician and consented to use the weapons of Hercules to help his companions. This he did most prominently when he took aim at Paris and shot him dead, making Helen a widow.
Two brothers of Paris, the seer Helenus and the warrior Deiphobus, quarreled over who would be the third husband of the most beautiful woman in the world. Deiphobus won and Helenus left the town in bitter disappointment to live alone on the slopes of Mount Ida. The Greeks knew Helenus was a powerful prophet, so they sent Odysseus to kidnap him from the mountain and bring him to the Greek camp. Helenus knew secrets hidden even from Calchas, such as the oracles still protecting Troy. The disgruntled Helenus revealed that for the Greeks to take the city, they would first need to transport the bones of Agamemnon’s grandfather Pelops to their camp from Greece. Second, they would need to bring Achilles’ son Neoptolemus, fathered on the island of Scyros, to join them. Finally they would need to steal the Palladium, the wooden statue of Athena that had fallen from the sky, from her temple in the city. These three things are necessary, said Helenus, but they are by no means sufficient for you to capture the city. You will still have to discover for yourselves what no man or god knows—how to breech the walls of Troy.
The Greeks collected the bones of Pelops easily enough and found young Neoptolemus eager to join them, but stealing Athena’s statue from her temple in the center of Troy posed more of a problem. Odysseus therefore resorted to stealth. He and Diomedes disguised themselves as beggars and snuck into the city. Some say that Helen recognized them and helped them, but others claim they stole the Palladium on their own and brought it back to the Greek camp. Now they had everything they needed to take the city of Troy—if only they could find a way to get their army through its walls.
How the idea occurred to Odysseus, no one ever knew, but when the Greeks heard it, they knew it would work. It was daring, insane perhaps, but it was so simple and cunning that Troy must surely fall at last. Odysseus instructed a master craftsman named Epeius to build a gigantic wooden horse big enough to hold fifty men in its hollow interior. It would look solid from the outside, but had a secret door that could be opened by those hiding inside.
On the evening when the horse was complete, Odysseus, Menelaus, and four dozen other Greeks climbed into the creature’s belly and sealed themselves in. The rest of the Greeks burned their tents and sailed away to anchor on the far side of the island of Tenedos and await the prearranged signal.
When dawn rose the next morning, the Trojans could see the smoldering ruins of the Greek camp and a giant wooden horse in the distance. They rode out to the shore and marveled at the work, wondering why their enemies should have built such a thing. Suddenly a man came running to them from the bushes and threw himself at the feet of Priam. He said his name was Sinon and that he was a Greek. He had quarreled with Odysseus and in revenge the master conniver had arranged for him to become a human sacrifice. He had escaped, but the horse was left behind as a peace offering to Athena. The Greeks had realized at last that they could never take the city and only wanted to sail home in peace with the blessing of the goddess. Sinon begged the king to grant him sanctuary safe from his cruel countrymen.
The Trojans were moved to tears by this sad story, but not everyone was so impressed by the Greek refugee. The prophetess Cassandra declared that he was lying, but no one believed her. Laocoon, the Trojan priest of Poseidon, also mocked Sinon, throwing a spear at the horse and noting the hollow thud, perfect for hiding men inside. He warned they should never trust Greeks, especially when they were bearing gifts. But Poseidon sent a sea serpent to devour Laocoon and his sons on the beach, a sign to all to reject the words of the priest. The exultant Trojans then rigged ropes to the colossal horse and dragged it inside the city.
At the victory feast that night there was music, dancing, and more wine than anyone had ever seen. Everyone sang and drank long into the night, until at last they stumbled back to their homes to sleep the sleep of the dead.
But in the wee hours of the morning, when the city was finally quiet, a door silently opened under the belly of the wooden horse. Ropes were lowered and orders given to unbar the gates of the city. Sinon had already kindled a fire on the tomb of Achilles to signal the fleet. The Greek army had quickly sailed back from Tenedos and was waiting outside the walls.
The Greeks spread through the city slaughtering the Trojans in their beds and setting fire to their fine homes. Only Aeneas, son of Aphrodite, had his wits about him as he gathered what men, women, and children he could and escaped. But most Trojans were not so fortunate. King Priam was cut down at the altar of Zeus, where he had sought sanctuary. The lesser Ajax found Cassandra in the temple of Athena and raped her there, then gave her to Agamemnon as a slave. Hector’s mother, Hecuba, was led away in chains as was his wife, Andromache, but not before his young son Astyanax was thrown from the walls to his death. The Greeks took Priam’s youngest daughter, Polyxena, and cut her throat over the tomb of Achilles, a blood sacrifice to the spirit of their friend. At last, when the city was a smoking ruin, Menelaus killed Helen’s new husband, Deiphobus. He was ready to plunge his sword into his former bride as well, but Helen bared her breasts to him and pleaded that she be allowed to return home to Sparta, where she would make him a very happy man. Menelaus hesitated, thinking of all the good men who had died for her sake, but then he sheathed his sword, took her by the hand, and led her back to his ship.
MYCENAE
Many years before Agamemnon led the Greeks to Troy, his ancestor Tantalus ruled as king in Lydia, not far from the city of Priam and Paris. Tantalus was a mortal son of Zeus himself and a special favorite of the god. The ruler of the gods would often invite his child to banquets on Olympus, but Tantalus took advantage of his father’s hospitality, stealing the gods’ own ambrosia and telling their secrets to mortals. When Zeus overlooked this misbehavior, his son became more and more bold.
One day Tantalus invited all the gods to dinner at his palace and laid before them a fine meal. But before the feast had been set, he had slaughtered his own son Pelops, boiled him in a cauldron, and served him in tasty portions to his divine guests. The king was curious to see if the gods would recognize that he had laid human flesh before them. Only Demeter was fooled, but this was because she was preoccupied mourning the loss of her daughter Persephone. She ate a shoulder of young Pelops before anyone could stop her.
Zeus rose up in anger and ordered Hermes to place the pieces of his grandson back into the pot. He reached in and pulled out a whole, living Pelops, minus a shoulder that Hephaestus later replaced with an ivory prosthesis. Zeus then cast his son Tantalus down into the darkest corner of Hades. There, tormented by thirst, he stood in a pool of fresh water, but as often as he stooped down to drink, the water vanished. In his hunger he also tried to grasp the luscious fruits that hung over his head, but whenever he reached for them, the wind blew them out of his grasp. Thus for eternity Tantalus was tantalized by food and drink he could not have.
Then Zeus answered her, “Not to worry. Look, I’m spreading a thick cloud about us that will cover us from sight. Take off your clothes, my dear, I’ve got to have you now!”
And so the pair made love on the grass, hidden from the sight of gods and men by a thick mist. Then, when Zeus was finished, Sleep poured his potion on him so that he fell into a deep slumber.
Hera was up in an instant and flying down the slopes of Olympus to the Greek camp outside Troy. She stirred the Greeks to rally and hold back the Trojans. Ajax even managed to knock Hector out of the fighting for a short time with a rock that hit the Trojan leader on the chest and spun him like a top. Back and forth the tide of battle shifted as one moment the Greeks pushed the Trojans from the ships, then the next they were driven back to the sea.
Patroclus had returned to the camp of Achilles and implored his friend to let him join the fight with their men. Achilles agreed and even gave him his own armor to wear, but warned his dear companion only to drive the Trojans back from the ships, not to take the battle to the city, for he would not be there to stand beside him. Patroclus agreed and put on the shining armor, then led many hundreds of fresh troops into the fight.
The appearance of Patroclus and his men brought hope to the Greeks and terror to their enemies. The Trojans thought that Achilles had finally put aside his anger and was rejoining the fight. With a tremendous roar, the Greeks rallied and pushed the Trojans over the ramparts and back onto the plain. The excitement was so great that the men began to believe they might take Troy itself that day. Patroclus had forgotten the warning of his friend and ordered the men to follow him to the walls of the city.
The Greeks indeed would have taken Troy then if Zeus had not awoken in anger and sent his son Apollo to stand before the ramparts of the city. The young god came up behind Patroclus and slammed him between the shoulders, stunning him like an oxen for sacrifice. A Trojan warrior named Euphorbus then struck him with a spear, but did not bring him down. Immediately Hector was there with his own bronze-tipped spear and stabbed Patroclus clean through the gut so that the blade came out his back. The fair young soldier fell into the dust, his soul flying down to the house of Hades, leaving life behind.
Hector stripped the armor of Achilles off his dead companion and would have taken his corpse back to Troy as well, but Menelaus ran and stood over him like a mother cow protecting her newborn calf. The Greek captain finally drove Hector away and put the body of his comrade into a chariot to return it to the Greek camp for proper funeral rites. Hector let him go, but gloried in his new armor and in the fact that he had killed Patroclus, one of the greatest of the Greek warriors and the closest friend of Achilles.
The son of Peleus and Thetis knew his companion was dead even before the Greeks brought the body to his tent. The wail that went up from the Greek lines told him all he needed to know. When at last the corpse of Patroclus lay before him, Achilles sat in the dust tearing his hair, weeping uncontrollably. He let loose a terrible, wrenching cry so loud that even Thetis in the depths of the sea heard it and came to comfort her son. She told him that as horrible as things seemed, he had gotten what he wanted. Agamemnon had suffered deeply for his pride and the Greeks realized they could not win the war without him.
But Achilles knew all that meant little now that Patroclus was gone. Phoenix had been right. His own pride had cost him that which he loved the most. At last he agreed to set aside his anger and rejoin the fight, with the intention to destroy Hector, even if it meant he himself would soon die. Nothing mattered now but revenge.
Achilles’ mother, Thetis, flew to the home of the divine smith, Hephaestus, to ask the god to make new armor for her son. As Thetis had once rescued him when Zeus threw the god down from Olympus, Hephaestus was happy to help her. He stoked his fire and called on his handmaids—living, breathing girls made of gold who worked the forge with him. Then he set to work on a set of armor like no man had ever seen. The enormous shield was embossed with figures telling stories of two noble cities, one at war, one at peace. On it men and women fought and plowed, died and danced. There were vineyards and palaces, cattle and meadows, weddings and battles—all the world was there, encircled on the rim of the shield by the mighty river of Ocean. He also forged a breastplate gleaming like fire, a sturdy helmet, and greaves to cover the warrior’s legs. Thetis thanked Hephaestus from her heart and winged backed to Troy to present the magnificent gifts to her son, who now armed himself for battle.
Zeus looked down on the plain of Troy and knew his promise to Thetis had been kept. The Greeks honored the young warrior like no other as he marched onto the battlefield to fight the Trojans. The first enemy captain he met was Aeneas, son of the goddess Aphrodite. Achilles would have killed him there, but the gods saved him. They knew it was his fate to preserve the line of Troy and found another, greater city far to the west. Achilles then turned to other Trojans and slaughtered them like sheep. The Scamander that flowed through the plain became so clogged with his victims that the god of the river rose up against the Greek warrior and ordered him to stop. When Achilles refused, the river leapt out of its banks and pursued him across the plain like a tidal wave until Hephaestus came to his aid and used fire to force the river back.
At last Achilles reached the walls of Troy and called Hector forth. His father, mother, and dear wife, Andromache, begged him not to go, but he donned his armor and went through the gates to face the greatest warrior of the age. The two fought like lions with neither gaining the advantage at first, but Hector knew he could not long match the rage of Achilles. At last he turned to flee and ran three times around the walls of Troy while Achilles chased him. Then the goddess Athena appeared to Hector in the form of his brother Deiphobus and told him they would fight together against their foe. Hector rallied and turned to make his stand against Achilles, but as the Greek warrior drew near, Deiphobus vanished and Hector knew he was doomed. He fought bravely, but finally Achilles triumphed and drove his spear deep into Hector’s neck. As Hector breathed his last, Achilles gloried over him and promised the fallen soldier that the dogs and birds would soon feast on his corpse. When the soul of the Trojan had departed, Achilles pierced the tendons of his feet with rawhide and dragged his body back to the Greek camp in the dust while his family on the walls looked on in horror. No one had ever treated an enemy so, but the anger of Achilles and his grief over the death of Patroclus knew no bounds.
The funeral rites for Patroclus were splendid and included the sacrifice of horses, dogs, and Trojan captives. All the while the corpse of Hector lay unburied in the camp of Achilles, though the gods preserved it from decay. Zeus favored Achilles, but he could not allow him to dishonor the dead so. He sent Thetis to him to demand he take a ransom for the body of his enemy. Achilles reluctantly agreed, but only if some warrior of the Trojans was brave enough to cross the lines and claim him.
Later that night, King Priam had a vision telling him to go to Achilles and redeem the body of his son. His wife and family said he was mad to put himself into the hands of the monster who had so brutalized Hector, but the old man had no fear. Guided by Hermes, Priam drove a cart across the plain alone in the darkness. When he came to the tent of Achilles, he entered it and fell down on his knees before the warrior. He took the hands of Achilles—the very hands that had killed his son—and kissed them, asking him to give him the corpse for a proper burial.
Achilles was stunned to see the old king before him and was moved with pity. He thought of his own aged father, Peleus, across the sea whom he would never see again. He thought of all the young men who had fallen and died on the battlefield in hope of eternal glory, though now they were but dust and ashes. And at last he thought of his beloved Patroclus, who loved life so, but perished in the bloom of youth, never to rise again. Memory and remorse overcame both men in the tent that night, tears pouring down their faces as they realized the true cost of war.
Achilles carried the body of Hector to Priam’s cart and laid him gently inside. He then bade Priam farewell and sent him back to Troy under safe conduct, granting him ten days of peace to mourn and bury his son. The women of the city keened songs of sorrow when they saw the corpse of noble Hector entering the gates. He was the best among them, both as warrior and as a man. His mother, Hecuba, embraced him, then Andromache held him close one last time. The Trojans built a great funeral pyre for their hero and burned his body as was proper. When the flames at last had died away, they gathered his white bones, wrapped them in purple cloth, and laid them at last within a golden chest in a grave.
Hector was dead, but the walls of Troy still stood and new allies were arriving to bolster the still massive army of King Priam. Penthesileia, ruler of the Amazons and a daughter of the war god Ares, rode onto the plain with her warrior women and killed many of the best Greek fighters. But Achilles mortally wounded the queen and then fell in love with her as she lay dying. Once she had breathed her last, Thersites, known among the Greeks for his biting tongue, mocked Achilles for his foolish infatuation until the warrior killed him as well. Achilles also slew Memnon, king of the Ethiopians, who had brought his army all the way from the headwaters of the Nile.
It seemed as if nothing could strike down Achilles, protected as he was by his mother once dipping him in the river Styx. But Apollo knew where he was vulnerable and guided an arrow of Paris to his heel when the Greek captain attacked the Scaean gate of the city. The greatest of the Greek warriors died there, bleeding to death beneath the walls of Troy. The Trojans would have seized his divine armor but Ajax and Odysseus drove them back and carried the corpse of their friend to their camp by the shore. There all the Greeks mourned him and burned his body on a funeral pyre, afterward mixing his ashes with those of his friend Patroclus.
The Greeks then held a contest to see who among them would receive his glorious armor. Ajax argued that he had killed more Trojans than anyone save Achilles and therefore deserved the prize, but Odysseus won the armor with his smooth tongue, claiming that his brains had helped the Greeks more than anyone’s brawn. Ajax became crazed with jealousy and swore he would make the Greek captains pay. That night he rose from his bed and attacked his old friends, slaughtering Agamemnon, Menelaus, and Odysseus among others. But when dawn came, he returned to his senses and discovered he had killed only a herd of sheep. More humiliated than ever, he went to a secluded cave near the beach and killed himself with his own sword.
The Greeks were no closer to taking the city of Troy than they had been ten years earlier. When they asked the seer Calchas what they must do to win the war, he said they needed the weapons of Hercules left with Philoctetes, whom they had abandoned on the island of Lemnos a decade earlier. A delegation arrived to bring Philoctetes to the Greek camp in spite of his still-stinking wound. Once on the beach at Troy, the injured man was healed by a skilled physician and consented to use the weapons of Hercules to help his companions. This he did most prominently when he took aim at Paris and shot him dead, making Helen a widow.
Two brothers of Paris, the seer Helenus and the warrior Deiphobus, quarreled over who would be the third husband of the most beautiful woman in the world. Deiphobus won and Helenus left the town in bitter disappointment to live alone on the slopes of Mount Ida. The Greeks knew Helenus was a powerful prophet, so they sent Odysseus to kidnap him from the mountain and bring him to the Greek camp. Helenus knew secrets hidden even from Calchas, such as the oracles still protecting Troy. The disgruntled Helenus revealed that for the Greeks to take the city, they would first need to transport the bones of Agamemnon’s grandfather Pelops to their camp from Greece. Second, they would need to bring Achilles’ son Neoptolemus, fathered on the island of Scyros, to join them. Finally they would need to steal the Palladium, the wooden statue of Athena that had fallen from the sky, from her temple in the city. These three things are necessary, said Helenus, but they are by no means sufficient for you to capture the city. You will still have to discover for yourselves what no man or god knows—how to breech the walls of Troy.
The Greeks collected the bones of Pelops easily enough and found young Neoptolemus eager to join them, but stealing Athena’s statue from her temple in the center of Troy posed more of a problem. Odysseus therefore resorted to stealth. He and Diomedes disguised themselves as beggars and snuck into the city. Some say that Helen recognized them and helped them, but others claim they stole the Palladium on their own and brought it back to the Greek camp. Now they had everything they needed to take the city of Troy—if only they could find a way to get their army through its walls.
How the idea occurred to Odysseus, no one ever knew, but when the Greeks heard it, they knew it would work. It was daring, insane perhaps, but it was so simple and cunning that Troy must surely fall at last. Odysseus instructed a master craftsman named Epeius to build a gigantic wooden horse big enough to hold fifty men in its hollow interior. It would look solid from the outside, but had a secret door that could be opened by those hiding inside.
On the evening when the horse was complete, Odysseus, Menelaus, and four dozen other Greeks climbed into the creature’s belly and sealed themselves in. The rest of the Greeks burned their tents and sailed away to anchor on the far side of the island of Tenedos and await the prearranged signal.
When dawn rose the next morning, the Trojans could see the smoldering ruins of the Greek camp and a giant wooden horse in the distance. They rode out to the shore and marveled at the work, wondering why their enemies should have built such a thing. Suddenly a man came running to them from the bushes and threw himself at the feet of Priam. He said his name was Sinon and that he was a Greek. He had quarreled with Odysseus and in revenge the master conniver had arranged for him to become a human sacrifice. He had escaped, but the horse was left behind as a peace offering to Athena. The Greeks had realized at last that they could never take the city and only wanted to sail home in peace with the blessing of the goddess. Sinon begged the king to grant him sanctuary safe from his cruel countrymen.
The Trojans were moved to tears by this sad story, but not everyone was so impressed by the Greek refugee. The prophetess Cassandra declared that he was lying, but no one believed her. Laocoon, the Trojan priest of Poseidon, also mocked Sinon, throwing a spear at the horse and noting the hollow thud, perfect for hiding men inside. He warned they should never trust Greeks, especially when they were bearing gifts. But Poseidon sent a sea serpent to devour Laocoon and his sons on the beach, a sign to all to reject the words of the priest. The exultant Trojans then rigged ropes to the colossal horse and dragged it inside the city.
At the victory feast that night there was music, dancing, and more wine than anyone had ever seen. Everyone sang and drank long into the night, until at last they stumbled back to their homes to sleep the sleep of the dead.
But in the wee hours of the morning, when the city was finally quiet, a door silently opened under the belly of the wooden horse. Ropes were lowered and orders given to unbar the gates of the city. Sinon had already kindled a fire on the tomb of Achilles to signal the fleet. The Greek army had quickly sailed back from Tenedos and was waiting outside the walls.
The Greeks spread through the city slaughtering the Trojans in their beds and setting fire to their fine homes. Only Aeneas, son of Aphrodite, had his wits about him as he gathered what men, women, and children he could and escaped. But most Trojans were not so fortunate. King Priam was cut down at the altar of Zeus, where he had sought sanctuary. The lesser Ajax found Cassandra in the temple of Athena and raped her there, then gave her to Agamemnon as a slave. Hector’s mother, Hecuba, was led away in chains as was his wife, Andromache, but not before his young son Astyanax was thrown from the walls to his death. The Greeks took Priam’s youngest daughter, Polyxena, and cut her throat over the tomb of Achilles, a blood sacrifice to the spirit of their friend. At last, when the city was a smoking ruin, Menelaus killed Helen’s new husband, Deiphobus. He was ready to plunge his sword into his former bride as well, but Helen bared her breasts to him and pleaded that she be allowed to return home to Sparta, where she would make him a very happy man. Menelaus hesitated, thinking of all the good men who had died for her sake, but then he sheathed his sword, took her by the hand, and led her back to his ship.
MYCENAE
Many years before Agamemnon led the Greeks to Troy, his ancestor Tantalus ruled as king in Lydia, not far from the city of Priam and Paris. Tantalus was a mortal son of Zeus himself and a special favorite of the god. The ruler of the gods would often invite his child to banquets on Olympus, but Tantalus took advantage of his father’s hospitality, stealing the gods’ own ambrosia and telling their secrets to mortals. When Zeus overlooked this misbehavior, his son became more and more bold.
One day Tantalus invited all the gods to dinner at his palace and laid before them a fine meal. But before the feast had been set, he had slaughtered his own son Pelops, boiled him in a cauldron, and served him in tasty portions to his divine guests. The king was curious to see if the gods would recognize that he had laid human flesh before them. Only Demeter was fooled, but this was because she was preoccupied mourning the loss of her daughter Persephone. She ate a shoulder of young Pelops before anyone could stop her.
Zeus rose up in anger and ordered Hermes to place the pieces of his grandson back into the pot. He reached in and pulled out a whole, living Pelops, minus a shoulder that Hephaestus later replaced with an ivory prosthesis. Zeus then cast his son Tantalus down into the darkest corner of Hades. There, tormented by thirst, he stood in a pool of fresh water, but as often as he stooped down to drink, the water vanished. In his hunger he also tried to grasp the luscious fruits that hung over his head, but whenever he reached for them, the wind blew them out of his grasp. Thus for eternity Tantalus was tantalized by food and drink he could not have.
