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You take in the sights and sounds of the city as you ride – you had spent uncountable hours exploring its nooks and crannies as a child and young boy. It’s a quick thing to skirt through the main thoroughfares – the crowds see you approaching on Arion and scatter to the sides, all the better to watch you pass. The triumphant energy from the gate is everywhere – the pedestrians shout and scream your name, and families leap out of their homes to catch a better glimpse of you. Your name graces the tongues of thousands:
<span class="mu-i">“Hippomedon the Mighty is here! The peerless son of Aristomachus! The army will march!”</span>
The words are a balm to your anxieties, their adulation putting your heart and mind at ease. Confidence again wells in your breast. The army’s preparations are near-complete – you have trained them well, your uncles Mecisteus and Pronax have outdone themselves in arming them, and now, you provide a measurable boost to the Army's material wealth and supplies in the form of Tegean Timae and cattle. While other Argive nobility have dawdled their days away, you have made an Argive victory over Thebes a certainty! As the commoners scream and shout, you cannot help yourself – you reward your cheering fans with an ecstatic reply of your own -
<span class="mu-i">“Hark, men of Argos! Soon, we march against Thebes and against the pretender, Eteocles! We will set things right, as Argos has always done! Zeus Στρατιος and Mars Λαοσσοος are with us! The gods and goddesses of Olympus are with us! <span class="mu-s">WE FIGHT AND WIN!</span>”</span>
Your speech sets the crowds ablaze – they catch your words and begin to spread them amongst themselves. The roaring voices merge together - becoming the great roar of a blazing inferno. You expect that all Argives will hear of your passing before nightfall – as it should be!
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You spot your uncles immediately upon exit from the western gates of Argos – Adrastus has just arrived in his parade chariot; a gaudy, gilded thing, festooned with flags, flowers and ribbons of all kinds. The chariot's horses are exhausted, despite the short journey from the palace – it’s enormously heavy. Adrastus is dressed in his parade panoplia, rather than comfortable robes – the jewels studding the bronze glitter in the afternoon light, and the massive horse-hair crest of his helm in perfect order. Mecisteus and Pronax are kneeling before him, dressed in simpler garb - Pronax is still dusty from the trail. To Pronax’s right, you see a prize steer, heavy with meat and fat; the beast is peaceably chewing upon the grasses underfoot. Beyond them, you see the Tegean cattle resting in the fields – Pronax has driven them here for presentation and "inspection" by Adrastus, no doubt. Finally, you see another cart, topped with a heavy hide tarp – the pilfered Tegean gold lies underneath, you are certain.
Your arrival is not missed, as you dismount Arion -
>will continue later tonight, thought I'd get a head-start
