The Oath Remembered
In the halls of Mycenae, King Agamemnon listened as his brother Menelaus recounted the betrayal—the stolen queen, the broken bond of hospitality, the insult carved deep into his pride. But this was not just Menelaus’ grievance. It was a wound to all of Greece.
Years before, when Helen’s beauty drew suitors from every kingdom, her mortal father had made them swear a sacred vow—the Oath of Tyndareus:
“Should harm befall Helen’s marriage, all who sought her hand shall unite to defend her honor.”
Now that oath echoed like a battle cry across the land. Messengers rode to distant kings, invoking promises made in peace, now sharpened into obligations of war.
One by one, the greatest heroes of Greece answered the call.
The Heroes Assembled
Kings, Warriors, and the Reluctant
Odysseus of Ithaca, master of cunning, was the first to resist. Having built a life of quiet with his wife, Penelope, and their newborn son, he wanted no part in another man’s war. When the summons came, Odysseus feigned madness, sowing salt into his fields like a madman.
But Agamemnon’s envoy, Palamedes, saw through the ruse. He placed Odysseus’ infant son in the path of his plow. Odysseus stopped, revealing the truth: no madness—just a man desperate to avoid a fate he could already feel pulling at him. Bound by the oath, he joined the cause.
Achilles, the son of the sea goddess Thetis, was hidden away by his mother, disguised as a girl among the daughters of King Lycomedes. Thetis knew the prophecy: Achilles was fated for eternal glory—but only if he went to Troy, where death awaited him.
Odysseus, tasked with finding him, devised a test. He presented gifts to the “maidens”—fine fabrics, jewelry, and a single gleaming sword. While the others admired the silks, Achilles’ hand went instinctively to the blade. His cover shattered, he stood revealed: young, fierce, and destined to become the greatest warrior of his age.
Ajax the Great, towering and unyielding, answered without hesitation, seeking honor on the battlefield. Nestor, wise and aged, joined to lend counsel born from years of war.
Thus, kings and warriors gathered—drawn by oaths, honor, ambition, or the seductive lure of eternal glory.
The Fleet Sets Sail
The Winds of Fate
A thousand ships assembled at Aulis, their sails stretched like wings, eager to carry Greece’s fury across the sea. But the winds did not come. Days passed. The sea remained still, as if the gods themselves held it in chains.
A seer was called: Calchas, who read the will of the gods. His words struck like a blade:
"Artemis is angered. The goddess demands a sacrifice—not of beasts, but of royal blood."
The price was Iphigenia, the daughter of Agamemnon.
Agamemnon faced a choice no king—or father—should bear: refuse, and the war would wither before it began; obey, and spill the blood of his own child for the promise of victory.
Blinded by ambition, he chose war. Iphigenia was brought under the pretense of marriage to Achilles, only to be led to the altar of sacrifice. Some say Artemis took pity, replacing her with a deer at the last moment. Others say the girl’s blood stained the earth, a dark omen for the war to come.
With the sacrifice complete, the winds rose. The sails filled.
The fleet surged toward Troy, its fate sealed by oaths, ambition, and the gods themselves.
—To be continued in Chapter 4: The Siege of Troy Begins.