The Peculiar Trojan War – Part 2
After a long voyage, the united Greek army decided to first deal with Troy’s allied nations.
They invaded smaller nearby countries, amassing significant spoils: gold, silver, land, and even... beautiful women.
Achilles, the son of the hero Peleus and the goddess Thetis, stood out among them.
As foretold in prophecy, he would surpass his father in greatness, growing into a hero of unparalleled might.
When the Greeks attacked Troy’s allies, Achilles led the charge, earning great acclaim for his achievements.
This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.
"Agamemnon, I’ve captured two stunning women, Briseis and Chryseis. I’ll give Chryseis to you."
"Oh, wonderful. A woman of such beauty..."
Achilles handed one of the women he captured, Chryseis, to Agamemnon, the army’s commander-in-chief.
However, this sparked an unexpected problem: Chryseis’s father, Chryses, a priest of Apollo, begged Agamemnon to return his daughter. Agamemnon, in his arrogance, refused and drove him away.
Furious, Chryses prayed to Apollo to punish the Greeks.
Already sympathetic to Troy, Apollo wasted no time unleashing a plague upon the Greek forces.
With soldiers dying from divine punishment, Agamemnon was forced to return Chryseis to her father, along with lavish gifts as an apology.
However, enraged by this humiliation, Agamemnon retaliated by taking Briseis from Achilles.
"Agamemnon! Why are you taking Briseis from me?"
"Silence, Achilles! Didn’t you deliberately give me the daughter of a priest of Apollo? Besides, the finest spoils rightfully belong to the commander-in-chief!"
"What nonsense! Fine, if that’s how it is, I’ll fight no longer!"
Furious, Achilles stormed back to his tent.
Naturally, the other commanders tried to persuade Agamemnon to resolve the issue. Achilles’s unparalleled prowess in battle had earned their deep respect.
The first to speak was Polydeuces, a hero of the previous generation admired by all.
"Listen, Nestor, you should try talking to that angry young man. As for you, Agamemnon, let’s have a word."
"Hmm?"
"Beauty pales in comparison to honor. That young man, Achilles, is far greater than Peleus was at his age. Making an enemy of him is no way to win this war."
"I agree, brother. There will be plenty of women to claim when we take Troy."
"I concur."
"Let’s not quarrel over spoils of war."
Persuaded by Polydeuces, the other commanders joined in agreement. None of them wanted this campaign, which promised both honor and wealth, to end in failure.
Reluctantly, Agamemnon promised to return Briseis.
Meanwhile, in Achilles’s tent, Nestor approached the enraged hero.
"Achilles."
"Nestor? What brings you here?"
"Your father, Peleus, was truly remarkable."
Achilles, still fuming, begrudgingly allowed the respected elder to speak.
"You’ve heard of the Thebes training ground, I presume?"
"Who in Greece hasn’t?"
"Jason, Heracles, and many other extraordinary heroes trained there. But did you know your father, Peleus, was just as exceptional? At a hunting tournament hosted by the goddess Thetis, he emerged victorious. He went on to achieve even greater feats, slaying mighty sea monsters one after another. Truly, he was the embodiment of heroism."
Achilles, well aware of his father’s legacy, remained silent.
Peleus had graduated from the Thebes training ground, joined the voyage of the Argo, and hunted the Calydonian Boar. Ultimately, he had overcome the trials of a goddess to marry an immortal.
Achilles had come to the Trojan War with dreams of emulating his father’s greatness.
"You, too, followed your mother’s advice and disguised yourself as a woman to avoid this war. Yet, when your ruse was discovered, instead of fleeing or fighting the envoys, you came here willingly. Why?"
"...Because I, too, wanted to become a hero, like my father."
"Then why are you so fixated on a mere woman? Peleus won the favor of a goddess through his feats, and now his son would abandon a war over a mortal woman?"
"Th-that’s not it! This is Agamemnon’s fault—"
"Agamemnon was in the wrong, yes. But he will soon realize his mistake and seek reconciliation. Don’t you wish to make a name for yourself? Let go of this grudge, even if just for now."
"......"
Not long after, an envoy from Agamemnon arrived, bringing Briseis along with abundant treasures.
Achilles headed to Agamemnon’s tent to reconcile.
"Well, I was petty. I’d like to apologize—will you accept it?"
"No, I should apologize as well for not offering the commander-in-chief the proper spoils..."
Thanks to the wise counsel of veteran heroes, the conflict within the Greek camp was temporarily resolved.
+++++
On the Clouds Above Olympus
The divine palace of Olympus loomed high above the clouds. Zeus, the King of the Gods, summoned all the deities to gather before him.
“Those of you who concern yourselves with mortal affairs,” he began, “are well aware that a great war has broken out.”
The gods, filled with curiosity, amusement, or concern, turned their eyes to him. Some, including Athena, suspected Zeus’s hand in orchestrating this conflict.
“Troy and the allied forces of Greece... It just so happens that Gaia recently complained about the abundance of mortal heroes. This is a good opportunity to reduce their numbers. Each of you may support whichever side you wish.”
“And yet, is it not true that you hold Hector, the prince of Troy, in high regard?” Hera questioned with a curious, pointed tone. If the King of the Gods were to intervene, any assistance given to the opposing side would be rendered meaningless.
“Hmm, Hector may be a remarkable mortal,” Zeus replied nonchalantly, “but I will remain neutral. You are free to act as you see fit.”
“Hmm. Is that so?” Poseidon interjected, his voice laced with venom. “So you truly wouldn’t care if Troy falls?”
“Of course not, Poseidon. Support Troy if you wish. Do as you please.”
Zeus brushed aside Poseidon’s words with ease, even though Poseidon harbored a grudge against Troy. It was clear Zeus was confident that the gods siding with Troy would balance the scales, even if Hector were to meet his demise.
‘Hades, though typically cynical about wars, might side with Troy,’ Zeus mused to himself.
Even Poseidon’s involvement wouldn’t disrupt the delicate balance of this conflict.
The Greek Landing at Troy
At last, the Greek allied forces set foot on the land of Troy. Oddly, the Trojans had established their camp just outside the city walls, making no moves to attack even as the Greeks disembarked.
The Greeks, initially cautious of an ambush, proceeded slowly but steadily. Soldiers disembarked in orderly fashion, setting up their encampments and surveying the city of Troy.
Agamemnon, sensing something amiss, approached Menelaus.
“Hector, Troy’s commander, is no fool,” he remarked.
“I’ve heard he’s their greatest hero,” Menelaus replied. “Something seems suspicious.”
“Hmm... Since they’ve allowed us to land unchallenged, we should formally declare war,” Agamemnon suggested.
“That seems wise. Bring me my spear and shield! I’ll ride out and confront that Paris myself!”
The declaration was intended to rally the morale of their troops, reminding them of the war’s righteous cause—avenging Menelaus’s stolen wife. It would also serve to unsettle the Trojans and demonstrate their resolve to the gods above.
The sound of hooves echoed as Menelaus mounted his steed, gripping his spear tightly. He rode toward the Trojan camp, where an impressive army stood in formation before the city walls. Amidst them, a figure in a gleaming helmet astride a horse caught his eye—clearly a high-ranking commander.
“Hear me!” Menelaus shouted. “I am King Menelaus of Sparta! Where is Paris, the wretch who dared steal my wife?”
Despite his bravado, Menelaus had no expectation that Paris would appear. After all, war between nations and their shifting alliances rarely adhered to ideals of justice.
No matter how scandalous the prince’s actions, Troy wouldn’t simply surrender Helen... or would they?
Menelaus’s words caught in his throat as he froze mid-sentence, stunned by the scene unfolding before him.
From among the ranks, the figure in the shining helmet urged his horse forward and addressed him directly.
“Indeed, you must be the renowned King Menelaus of Sparta. I am Hector, commander of Troy’s forces.”
Menelaus had assumed the figure was Hector or perhaps another esteemed officer. Yet, what truly shocked him were the two figures emerging from behind Hector.
“I acknowledge the fault lies with us,” Hector said, bowing respectfully. “My father, King Podarces, has commanded that Helen be returned to you immediately.”
Hector’s words barely registered in Menelaus’s mind. His attention was riveted on the sight before him:
The face of Paris, battered black and blue as though he had been beaten senseless, limped forward with a defeated gait. Behind him was Helen, her tear-streaked face turned toward Menelaus, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“...What is the meaning of this?” Menelaus whispered hoarsely.
“Are you mocking me, Hector?” he growled, his voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and fury.