Rage! (Iliad I)
Table of Contents
Recap and Status 1. "Epic Hotness Countdown" 2. "To the Victor Go the Spoils" 3. "The Concubine and the Prince" 4. "Don't Smite the Messenger" 5. "Patron of the Mice" 6. "In the Beard of Agamemnon" 7. "The Routine" 8. "Men Are Such Fools" 9. "Achaeans, Assemble!" 10. "Agamemnon Himself" 11. "Something Happened" 12. "Alternate Plans" 13. "Errand-Girl" 14. "Speaking with Authority" 15. "That Time I Spoke and Everyone Ignored Me" 16. "To Olympus by Chariot" 17. "Nostos" 18. "The View from a Distance" 19. "The Water Bearers" 20. “Here Today, Here Tomorrow” 21. ”Strategic Thinking” 22. "Embers of the Mind" 23. “How the Evergreen Lost Its Leaves” 24. “Tears of Strength and Resilience” 25. “The Strong Man and the King” 26. “The Aether Speaks” 27. “Something Holy and Immortal” Weekly Chapters Every Sunday23. “How the Evergreen Lost Its Leaves”
Centering Clever Eurybates,
Chief Herald to Agamamnon:
"I dislike this next chore,"
I confide to Talthybius.
"I disagree with this whole affair.
Gifts are to be given,
prizes are to be earned,
honors are to be bestowed,
not seized under threat of arms.
Tribute from a vassal
is more honorably claimed
than a war prize,
taken back
from one deserving of it."
Talthybius darts his eyes from side to side
as we stroll through the camp.
"Ours not to question orders."
Talthybius is young yet,
evergreen,
despite being a veteran of this war.
He sees Agamemnon as a living god,
and the Overlord,
for his part,
loves his most pious worshipers best.
"Does my head still attach to my body?"
I ask Talthybius.
He looks at me,
goggle-eyed,
a fish on a spear.
"By your neck?
Oh, aye.
The other fellows are always saying,
there goes Eurybates,
who certainly has a neck."
"Then as my neck can attest,
no officer has yet had cause
to mount my head on a spear
for defying a direct order.
But come now,
friend Talthybius,
even you must admit that our orders leave room
for creativity,
for flexibility--"
"For danger,"
he finishes,
with hands clapped over his ears,
and a bland obedient heart.
"Friend Talthybius,
let me clasp an arm around your shoulders.
You and I may not be warriors
but
all these great kings of Hellas
would fall to chaos
without heralds and attendants like us.
We are important.
We matter.
And we need to start acting like it.
We are a long way from home
on the grand adventure of our lives!
Will you tell your children
only
that you spent nine years on the Troad plain
with your head stuck up your bung?"
He sighs.
I expect him to tell me he has no children,
the literal-minded fool,
or that men like us don't get to leave a legacy,
but Talthybius surprises me.
"What do you have in mind?"
He's guarded,
ever guarded,
but like a flower first opening to the sky,
he's seeing new possibilities.
And it's only taken nine damn years.
"Delay,"
I say.
"Delay?"
The flower folds back into a fish.
"We should give Achilles time to bid goodbye to his prize.
Surely you've seen the way he looks to her,
more like a husband than a master.
Would that I had a master who looked upon me with such eyes!
He'll soon enough be sending her off to Agamemnon
like a newlywed bride sends her man off to distant war,
and so
we should delay to give them proper time."
The eyes now nearly pop from Talthybius's head.
"Are you mad?
Agamemnon awaits our return with the girl,
a balm to soothe his smoldering brow,
and you,
and you,
and you--"
"I'd rather he cool his brows in a chamberpot.
Oh, don't look so outraged.
Odysseus has Agamemnon convinced
that the pox of Apollo
can be fended off
by a daily mask of night soils.
I presume that Machaon has offered him the same."
"You presume much."
"And on the matter of our delay?"
"You presume far too much."
Talthybius now shakes
with fear?
with anger?
with amusement?
No. I recognize these shakes.
"Friend Talthybius,
I've heard it said
that within the heart of every man lies a battlefield
of the gods
where Olympians and Titans rage for control.
Right now,
caged within your ribs,
an epic war puts this Trojan mess to shame.
And here I stand on the homefront,
far across the waves,
eagerly awaiting your herald.
What's the good word, sir?"
I worry for a moment
that metaphors are wasted on such as my friend,
but Talthybius smiles
as his personal pantheon holds a victory march.
"On our way to Achilles,
we'll pass the Myrmidon pavilion,
will we not?"
"We shall."
"Those lucky bastards are preparing a departure for home.
We'll likely not see them again,
and so
it's only fitting for us to wish them farewell."
"Quite true,"
I agree.
"And what of Agamemnon?"
"We are his heralds."
Talthybius bites his lip.
"We bear the standard of his authority."
"But?"
"But if the Myrmidons offer hospitality and drink,
and if we refuse while on duty,
we would disgrace the good office of our Overlord."
"That would never stand."
"That would never stand,"
he agrees.
"It would be our duty to delay our duty for a drink--"
"--or two--"
"--or however many it takes
to properly honor the greatness of Agamemnon."
"Then for the honor of Agamemnon,
we must hasten to delay!"
"And to delay without delay,"
Talthybius agrees,
and he smiles,
and truly,
for perhaps the first time,
the gods within him have spoken out.
EPIC CYCLE ROADMAP:
* The Kypria* The Iliad
* The Posthomerica
* Tales of Nostos
* The Odyssey
* The Telegony
* The Aeneid
Rage is the first book of the Iliad. Amazons is the first book of the Posthomerica.
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