Steep Wilusiya (Age of Bronze) Read Free Page B

for us.  Wánaks Agamémnon is a great king after all.  He brought the whole of Ak'áiwiya with him, something we thought could not be done.  Ak'áyans may appear to be divided into warring, independent states, but the army camped across the Sqámandro River is living proof that they follow a single overlord.  Now, the gods are against us as well, for we have become oath breakers.  I have discovered that it was a Tróyan arrow that began the first battle, against the vow that all men took, to accept the consequences of the single combat."
     
    The young prince with the wounded arm stood shakily.  "The man who shot that arrow was a hero!" he insisted.  "The gods will favor us because of his courage!  If it were not for him, we would now be paying tribute to Agamémnon, you old goat!”
     
    "Sit down, Dapashánda," Antánor demanded impatiently.  "You are not a councilor or a troop commander.  You have no right to speak in this assembly."  The young man looked to Alakshándu, but the king gave no sign of displeasure at Antánor's command.  Dapashánda obediently sat, without saying another word, although he frowned and bit his lip in distaste. 
     
    Turning again to the room at large, the graying speaker went on, raising his voice above the rising tumult.  "The raid on Lakedaimón last year was a bad idea to begin with," Antánor announced boldly.  "Remember, I warned against it from the start and always urged negotiating a peaceful settlement of the issue.  Instead, we only made matters worse, letting the situation escalate into a war.  Now, we have lost who knows how many fine warriors, including our great prince Qántili, the former commander of Wilúsiya's army!  This was a terrible blow, as everyone knows.  I tell you, we must end this strife while our towers are still standing.  Think of what is best for Tróya as a city, and for the countryside of Wilúsiya that she rules, regardless of what a few hot-blooded warriors lust after.  I say, bring out the 'Elléniyan queen and her treasure now, while we still can, and give them back to the Ak'áyans immediately!"  He sat, leaning his gilded staff on his shoulder and staring straight ahead, avoiding the hostile eyes that surrounded him.
     
    A dark-haired man, bronzed by the sun, leaped to his feet.  Snatching the staff from the first speaker, he announced angrily, "I do not like your proposal now any better than I liked it before.  You may be my brother-in-law, Antánor, but you are still a coward!  No man could possibly take your suggestion seriously.  We have bigger and better-trained horses than these barbarians and braver men.  Nothing has changed that.  We fought Agamémnon and his Ak'áyan dogs to a standstill in the first battle.  He is no great king and his is no invincible army.  Even in the second battle with him, we did not retreat to our walls until the night forced us to do so.  Ai, if the daylight had only lasted a little longer, we would have burned the Ak'áyan camp!  And we will do it yet.  Yes, my brother Qántili is dead.  No man mourns him any more than I do.  But he was not the only troop commander in Wilúsiya.  And if we lost many men, so did the Ak'áyans.  Yes, some of our allies have abandoned us.  But we are far from beaten.  In fact, I expect to avenge my brother and drive these pirates from our shores tomorrow.  This is no time for talk of surrender."
     
    Approving rumbles came from the assembly.  "You tell him, Paqúr," Dapashánda urged.  Bearded men in high, conical hats stood to show their support, in addition.  "Paqúr is right!" they shouted.  "The warriors of Kuwalíya and Lúkiya follow Paqúr."
     
    The tall prince paced back and forth before his father's throne, unable to stand still in his fury, waving the great shaft as he spoke.  "I will never give up my 'Elléniya.  Never!  The woman is as much mine as her treasures.  I took them by force of arms and only force of arms will take them