I wait
for the embassy to dissolve,
for Agamemnon's lackeys
to acknowledge the futility of their efforts.
The others remain
and wait for me.
But how could they do otherwise?
Nine years camped on the Troad plain
have counseled them on patience.
I sigh.
"How fares the war?"
"There is no war,"
Ajax starts,
to an almost immediate interruption.
"And this is why we've come!"
Like warriors marching
through difficult terrain
on a tentative approach
to some distant battlefield,
Odysseus's words
shove Ajax aside,
search for an opening,
and crawl
into my ears.
"Consider the Trojans without Hector.
They lack soul.
They lack spirit.
They foray into the field
half-heartedly
only to defend their walls.
They are as cattle,
trembling at the edge of a field,
fearing the approach of a fierce lion.
But
the Achaeans are equally uninspired
without you.
Only Achilles,
astride a rushing chariot,
resplendent in peerless armor,
bearing a gleaming god-made shield,
can inspire our host
to victory.
You would rout our demoralized foes!
You would take the city's riches
and return in glory to your home."
"I am home,"
I state.
"This tomb shall be my home,
soon enough,
and I will know no other."
HI Greg, I'm here! Hanna
Greg R. Fishbone
Yay!