I know it has been many long years since last I saw you, infant as you were. It saddens me to think how this war against the spiteful Trojans has kept us apart and your winters are now ten. I know you must wonder why you have not known your father. My absence may seem inexcusable to you, and yet I wish to put into words the why and the how of it so that you might come to forgive me. How I wish I could tell these tales to you face-to-face.
This war was no fault of mine, my son, however it may be claimed. I confess I was originally one of Helen of Sparta's many suitors, an embarrassment I would not long bear. I therefore suggested to her father, Tyndareus, that all the suitors should swear to assist whichever suitor was chosen and protect Helen if anyone tried to steal her. Tyndareus was greatly pleased with my advice and procured for me the hand of Penelope, your lovely and faithful mother. I did not think then that the idiot Paris from Troy would abduct Helen when she was already married to Menelaus, thus forcing us to make good on our vow.
That is how the Trojan War came about.
I did not desire to part from you or your mother, Telemachus. I even feigned insanity so that I might not be called upon to serve in the war. I yoked a donkey and ox together and ploughed the fields so that it would appear to those who came to recruit me that I had lost my wits. Palamedes put you in the way of my plough and it was only then, as I swerved aside to avoid harming you, that I was forced to admit to my trickery and agree to join them on the expedition.
It must seem to you boastful arrogance to tell you of my great exploits over the course of war, but I wish you to be proud of me. I assure you, I proved an invaluable force for the Greeks.
Even before the war proper began, I played my part. I was sent to convince Achilles to join our forces. In accordance to the word of the Fates, we would not have been able to secure victory without his aid. I found him disguised as a woman named Pyrrha at Scyros. To force him to reveal his true identity, I dressed in pedlar's garb and entered into King Lycomede's women's quarters. I offered the women an assortment of goods, among which were weapons and arms. Achilles eagerly accepted the arms, by which I knew him to be the man I sought, with the fire of battle roaring through his veins. It proved an endless job maintaining the peace between Achilles and King Agamemnon.
Achilles was eventually killed in the war, shot down by Paris' arrow. I was proclaimed the Greeks' mightiest warrior - the one to inspire the most fear in the hearts of the Trojans - worthy of Achilles' armour, that which was masterfully crafted in the forges of Hephaestus, god of fire and worthy son of Zeus.
Although it was prophesied that we would not be victorious without the aid of Achilles, it was I who devised the cunning stratagem by which we succeeded in sacking Troy. On my advice and with the aid of the warrior goddess Athene, we constructed a large wooden horse and left it before the gates of Troy, as if it were an offering to the gods. Meanwhile the fleet sailed away. By all appearances, the Greeks had conceded defeat. Unbeknownst to the Trojans, I and an army of fellow Greeks waited within the horse. We were brought into the city and, when the Trojans slept after much feasting and drinking in celebration of their supposed victory, we sprung forth. The fleet returned upon our signal and we devastated Troy, laid it to waste, slaughtered the aged King Priam and burned that once-great city to ash and rubble.
 |
| Your father's cunning stratagem - the "Trojan Horse" (http://archaicwonder.tumblr.com/post/84964961362/the-oldest-known-depiction-of-the-trojan) |
And now we can at last declare that the Trojan War, a war launched for the sake of one adulterous woman, is over. At last I can look homewards - to you, my son. Oh Telemachus, it is for you and your mother that I desired not to leave, and yet it was for you that I was compelled to. But know that I will soon set sail, homebound to Ithaca.
I, your father Odysseus, offer you this wisdom, Telemachus: Be patient.
No comments:
Post a Comment