The Firelight Council
The Trojan War, Part 17: Nestor and Hector devise sneaky schemes
Find the last two parts of the story of the Trojan War here:
Part 15
Part 16
The slumberous night had crept into the Greek camp quickly, stealing itself over the men dozing there, welcomed in as a friend by the guards on watch at the walls. That was, it seemed to have come to all but Agamemnon. He tossed and turned in his bed, plagued with thoughts of the coming dawn and the fight it would bring, unable to clear his mind.
Eventually giving up on his attempted ruse of sleep, Agamemnon rose and walked to the opening of his hut, from which he could see his army’s camp and the sprawling campground of the Trojans beyond, lit by countless spitting fires across the plain before him. It was a marvel to behold, though it was also a sight that struck the king with a pang of fear in his heart, who found himself contemplating every campfire and the dangerous men they warmed.
He seized his fright and held it aloft to the gods, offering Zeus still more prayers for pity and mercy. He begged for aid, that his men might be spared the slaughter that surely waited for them at Eos’ rosy glow on the distant horizon.
Thrust back into silence and seeing no signs from the gods that he prayed to, Agamemnon resolved not to fall victim to the terror any longer but to do something, anything about it. He dressed quickly in his tunic and lionskin before grabbing his spear and heading out into the darkness.
Some few ships away, Menelaus was also battling with the sleepless anxiety of the prospect the next morning brought. It was, after all, he who had set this war in motion, he who had been so wronged and so had sentenced thousands of men to die with a single summons. He, like Agamemnon, decided to take action to avoid his swirling thoughts and donned his own tunic, leopardskin, helmet and spear, heading for his brother’s quarters.
He found Agamemnon by his ship, methodically putting on his armour, and stepped up to help him. He readily and gratefully accepted his brother’s assistance and told him of his relief to see him, glad that he was not the only one tortured into insomnia.
Menelaus asked why he was arming himself, whether he had a plan of some kind to break up this terrible stasis of not-knowing. If he intended to send out a spy, he added, he wasn’t sure there would be many men ready and alert for that kind of sneakiness at this hour. One glance over the darkened camp would show that he was right, but Agamemnon refused to let this stop him.
He was heading to see Nestor, the king told his brother. If Hector’s performance that day had been any indication, clearly Zeus had abandoned them despite his promises to help them so long ago. Rather than sit by and accept defeat, then, he would form some kind of counterattack. Who better to help him with this than great old King Nestor, wisest of them all?
They would need others, though, Agamemnon went on, and gave Menelaus the task of rousing Ajax the Greater and Idomeneus while he himself went to find Nestor and seek his aid. They would congregate at the guard outpost, the hub of the night watch, since Idomeneus’ dear friend Meriones and Nestor’s son Thrasymedes were in command there and they could dispatch men easily from the outpost should they need to. Agamemnon instructed his brother to find his charges and to meet him there, where their little midnight council could convene.
The brothers split off, Menelaus for the warriors and Agamemnon toward Nestor’s hut. When he arrived, the older man seemed to sense even in his sleep the presence of someone there and he called out, telling his visitor to announce himself. Agamemnon did so and Nestor greeted him, listening to Agamemnon’s continued concerns that come the morning, their whole army would likely be wiped out.
He agreed at once to Agamemnon’s suggestion of an impromptu council at the outpost and hurried to dress, assuring him that he could not believe Zeus would allow Hector’s victory completely. He was sure the king of the gods would change his mind and remain true to his original promise, especially if Achilles saw their plight and had a change of heart; even Hector could not withstand Achilles’ force of will and skill, and surely their most formidable warrior would soon return, despite his supposed plans to depart for home.
He advised Agamemnon that they should wake a few others as well as themselves: Diomedes, Odysseus, Ajax the Lesser and Meges. Even Ajax the Greater and Idomeneus should be brought in too, though their ships were the farthest away. He also asked after Menelaus’ whereabouts and absent concern, disapproving of the idea that all of this should be done in his name without his bothering to stir from sleep.
Agamemnon, allowing that indeed his brother needed to be scolded on occasion, could this time allay Nestor’s fears: Menelaus was already fetching several of the men he wished for, awake before even himself. Nestor was pleased by this and finished dressing, adorning himself in a tunic and boots with a fluffy purple robe, armed, as was Agamemnon, with a spear.
They departed Nestor’s quarters together and called first for Odysseus, who was quick to rally and appeared, baffled by the noise, eager to know what the fuss was about. When Nestor informed him of their plan, he dressed swiftly and grabbed his shield, following on behind.
They came next to Diomedes’ camp, a selection of warriors all sleeping out in the open and scattered around their leader, who slept in the middle. Beside him was a collection of spears all planted heel-down in the ground so that the sharp points rose to the heavens and caught the moonlight.
Nestor nudged Diomedes awake with his foot, urging him not to sleep at such a crucial juncture. Diomedes was up quickly, chiding Nestor for such alertness at all hours when he could have easily sent a younger man to wake him. Nonetheless, he donned a lionskin and readily joined the party. Nestor acknowledged that this may be true, as he had sons of his own, but the camp was in such danger that they had not the time to consider such issues of process just then.
He seized the opportunity to dispatch Diomedes to fetch both Ajax the Lesser and Meges, since he was such a younger man and could afford to do such things at such an hour. He bade him to bring his charges and meet at the outpost, where they could properly plan. Diomedes gave his elder a cheek smile and dashed off to do as he had commanded while the rest continued on.
Soon enough, the men who were wanted were roused and collected promptly at the outpost. The captains and guards there were on high alert, attentive as sheepdogs to the darkness and what it might hide; Nestor saw this and praised the men on the wall as he crossed the moat with the others, encouraging them to stay vigilant for their essential duty.
The leaders, joined by invitation by Meriones and Thrasymedes from the outpost, sat on the field where Hector had turned and moved his army for the night. Here, there were no bodies to move or concern themselves with, giving the council free rein in the space to explore any ideas that came forth.
Nestor began, as he often did, and suggested that perhaps there was one among them who was courageous enough to sneak into and around the Trojan camp. They would need to try and find any evidence, whether through a straggler or overheard gossip, of what was in Hector’s mind, whether he meant to remain out on the field or retreat to the city now that the Greek army was so cowed. It would be difficult and dangerous to do such a thing, especially undetected, but whoever went would earn the respect of the entire army, as well as fine rewards from those currently gathered and permanent welcome at their tables, not to mention the lauding of their name across the Greek world.
Diomedes volunteered at once, eager to go and willing too, though he suggested that he should take an accomplice, one to aid him and increase the chances of their finding satisfactory results. Plenty of those around him were ready and enthusiastic to join him: both Ajaxes, Meriones, Thrasymedes, Menelaus and Odysseus all submitted their names for his consideration.
Agamemnon praised Diomedes’ readiness to take on such risk and encouraged him to choose whichever comrade would best serve him and his purpose, regardless of title or rank. He was concerned for Menelaus, getting no younger and by no means their finest fighter, though he also knew that the position was a delicate one and Diomedes would need to trust his partner implicitly.
Duly, Diomedes thoroughly considered his options, all fine fighters with skills of their own, but reached his answer easily. He would take Odysseus with him, his close friend, skilled warrior, wisest counsel and beloved of Athena. He would be instrumental, Diomedes was sure, to scheming and executing whatever plans they may find themselves in need of on the fly and would be invaluable to have at his side. Odysseus, modest of the praise Diomedes heaped upon him during his selection, readily accepted his role but urged them on; there was only about a third of the night left, as the stars had already moved so much further across the sky than may have been expected.
Without too much more fanfare, the pair armed themselves. Diomedes had left his own sword and shield back at his camp, so Thrasymedes lent him his own. He placed over his head a skullcap of plain leather, unadorned to keep attention away from its wearer. Meriones offered Odysseus the use of his bow, quiver and sword, along with his own skullcap adorned with boar’s teeth, a gift from his father, Molus.
Sufficiently armed and ready, Odysseus and Diomedes prowled away into the darkness beyond the firelight that had bathed the council and watched over their plans. That darkness was so deep that they were blind to the good omen Athena had sent her champions, a heron on their right hand side. While they couldn’t see it, she had commanded it to honk as they passed, assuring them of her protection.
Grateful, the two men took this sign to heart and sent up prayers to their goddess. Odysseus thanked her for such an omen and asked that she allowed them safe passage through the night, through the Trojan camp and back to the warmth of the Greek fires with good, useful information for their kingly leaders. Diomedes asked Athena to be with him as she had been his father so long ago, promising her the sacrifice of an unbroken heifer with horns adorned with gold for their safe return.
Athena heard their faithful prayers and watched intently to guide them on their journey over the dark plains littered with bodies and the debris of war.
In the Trojan camp, Hector had not tarried long after his retreat for the night, keeping his men moving and watching diligently for the Greeks while he called a meeting of his own princes and leaders.
He boldly promised a chariot and the finest horses in the Greek camp to any man who would steel themselves and steal into that camp for information. He wanted to know whether the Greek army were guarded, their men ready for attack, or if they were too exhausted from the day of fighting they had endured at his hand, vulnerable and defenceless. He also wished to know whether they now thought of flight, running from the dawn’s promised fight, or whether they would choose to remain and be slaughtered under the morning light.
Unlike Diomedes’ instant eagerness, the Trojan council remained silent for some short while. Finally Dolon, the son of the Trojan herald Eumedes, spoke up. He had five sisters and was his father’s only son, so he was willing to put himself on the line for Hector and his generous reward, promising that he was quick enough for the job. He volunteered on the condition that Hector would swear that he would receive Achilles’ team of formidable horses as the equine part of his reward, in exchange for which he would get every juicy morsel of information his prince could want. Hector readily swore an oath on his staff and Zeus’ name that Dolon would be the only Trojan to drive Achilles’ horses, that they belonged to him as soon as they were taken as spoils.
Dolon accordingly snatched up his bow and quiver, slung a wolfskin around his shoulders and tugged a polecat skin skullcap over his head before taking his spear and departing swiftly from the Trojan camp and Hector’s watchful gaze, ready to parse through the impenetrable darkness to find Agamemnon’s plans and earn his rich prize.
Find the eighteenth part of the story of the Trojan War here:
