>>5591943"I thank you for the wager and the game, Prince Achilles. Are you not tired of hiding among these women? Come, join us in the army. We have greater need of your talents in war than your beloved does of your affection." Your confidence is through the roof. Your victory is complete. How can you not follow this conquest up by doing what it is you came to this island to do? You are not the most eloquent man, but stating the plain truth before this crowd does not take rhetorical skill.
He sits there and looks at you. For some time the prince says nothing. The crowd is dead silent, shocked at the revelation of his identity. You don’t know what surprises you more- the lack of anger, or the utter resignation that weighs down his face. He sighs deeply.
“My defeat is total. I feared in my heart that this day would come, but never so soon. Can a father not see his children for long? Can a soldier not enjoy his wife’s love for even two fortnights? But my strong fate has come- Zeus himself calls me to war, and not even my divine mother’s wiles can forestall it for long. Nikandros of Thessaly, you are an instrument of the Father who calls men to war, by whose will cities are shattered and armies lain low. Destiny is unavoidable for even we children of the gods, is that not so? Then I shall surrender to you my father’s spear and join you at the halls of kingly Agamemnon. Only let me settle my affairs here with King Lycomedes, that my son and daughter may be taken care of in his halls rather than at my mother’s high-reaching home.”
What.
Achilles has children?
Wait, Thetis! The top of the mountain. The magical boundary. By all the Olympians, it makes sense now! But how? When? Is Achilles not a barely a man of fourteen winters?
You are silent as well. What can you say to that? Your throat is choked. Again, you feel some sympathy for the man you just thoroughly humiliated. He is not a coward, or even a mere slave to desire. You have not quite put the pieces together, but it seems a higher obligation than those led Achilles to this business on Skyros. To your right, King Lycomedes is going through a rapid mixture of faces. One must wonder what exactly he is feeling at this moment.
Your work is done here. All that is left now is to dedicate your victory in the tournament, and it is scarcely a question which goddess would appreciate most such a dominating display of skill. You take a knee, even as the crowd watches on in quiet.
“Nike, blessed companion of Zeus, I dedicate this victory of the mind to your name- for it is you who guides all men in the demonstration of their highest skills, who flew beside me at the moment of my glory. Bless my name with yet more victories in skill.”
With that, you leave to return to your guest quarters. There is no formal prize for this victory, and you would rather honor the request of Achilles to work out his business with Lycomedes in his own time.
