The whole host of assembled Greeks stood in silent shock at the ghastly scene. Two of their finest warriors were now gone, and they feared the gods had cursed them all.
Chapter 27
Staggered by the painful loss of their finest warriors, Agamemnon welcomed the prophet Calchas to his shelter, hoping he could guide him in the best course of action. Slightly stooped with his clouded blue eyes focused above the high king's head, he spoke an intriguing premonition in a raspy low tone, "To defeat the Trojans, you must secure the bow and arrows of Hercules. The message of the gods is clear."
Agamemnon turned to the men seated nearby. "I would gladly send someone to fetch them. Philocletes once owned the legendary bow. But where is he now?"
"He was bitten by a snake on the isle of Lemnos as we sailed for Troy and was too ill to continue the voyage with us," one man recalled. "We left him behind because his wound made him reek to high heaven," another offered.
"If he survived, he may be there still," Agamemnon surmised.
"I'll go for him," Diomedes immediately volunteered.
"You'll not go alone," Odysseus added. "I'll go with you." He turned to Agamemnon. "The men will fight bravely without us if they know we've embarked on such a vital mission to our cause."
"They will be so informed," Agamemnon promised. "Have you any more prophecies for us, Calchas?"
The white-haired man's laugh was a hoarse croak. "I will wait until you possess Hercules's bow before I offer any further revelations, Lord Agamemnon."
Eager to be on their way, Diomedes and Odysseus jogged down to the water. "We'll each take our own men," Odysseus began. "My ship is the swiftest."
"The war has lasted so long your men have undoubtedly forgotten how to sail."
"Then yours will suffer from the same failing."
Unable to decide which boat to choose, or who would be in command, they embarked in two ships and raced the wind toward the isle of Lemnos. Once the site of a rumbling, spewing volcano, the isle was now calm with a rocky terrain and gently curved beaches. The first to the shore, Diomedes queried the fisher folk who greeted them and soon found Philocletes had indeed survived.
"He lives near Mount Hermaeus," a young man proclaimed and pointed the way.
Diomedes waited for Odysseus to reach the shore, and they made their way along a narrow inclined path to the stone hut Philocletes had built for himself. He was thin, and gaunt, his hair and beard had grown too long, but they recognized him easily.
His eyes lit with surprise when he saw his old friends. He limped toward them. "You must have believed me dead, or you would have come looking for me long before this," he exclaimed.
"Alas," Diomedes replied. "The war with Troy has taxed both our minds and bodies all these years, but you appear to have survived and done well on your own."
Philocletes shrugged. "The women are very pretty here, and the food plentiful, although unfortunately, the wine is merely passable. I lacked for the adventure of war it's true, but surely curiosity did not bring you two to the shores of lonely Lemnos. What are you truly seeking?"
Odysseus spoke softly, drawing Philocletes near, "You once owned Hercules's bow and arrows. Do you have them still?"
"What made you think of those relics?" Philocletes grew suspicious. "Have you run out of weapons to fight the men of Troy?"
"No, we've weapons aplenty, my friend. We've come to fulfill a prophecy of the priest Calchas," Diomedes confided. "Troy will fall if we have Hercules's bow and arrows."
Philocletes sat upon a conveniently placed boulder. "You left me stranded here on this rock in the middle of the sea caring little whether I lived or died, and now you have need of my bow?"
There were sheep grazing nearby and a young girl stood shading her eyes as she watched them. "Your life appears to be a good one here," Odysseus surmised.
"It's not the one I intended," Philocletes answered. "I'm grateful to be alive, of course."
"As are we all," Odysseus agreed. "Bring out the bow, so we may see it."
"You're known for your tricks, Odysseus," Diomedes countered, "but we'll not leave him stranded here again. Come with us to Troy, Philocletes. Hercules's bow belongs in your hands. Warriors will follow your lead, and you'll be the one to turn the tide of the war."
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sp; The disheveled man looked toward the girl minding the sheep. "I can always return here," he murmured to himself. He rose and looked down at his tattered clothes. "Have you something proper for me to wear so the army does not mistake me for a beggar?"
"I'll be proud to share a fine kilt of mine," Diomedes promised. "I'll provide you with a handsome war-shirt," Odysseus added. "Gather whatever you wish to bring, and we'll be on our way."