3.18: The Aim of Apollo

Location: Archery Range, Larissa, Aeolia

Time Remaining: 1 Month, 22 Days

Archery, being easily scored and therefore the least subjective of the pursuits was the first challenge undertaken by the suitors, both those competing enthusiastically, and those conscripted into the contest. Apollo went first, looked down range at the target, and asked the servants to move it further down range. At 300 yards he seemed satisfied, and he took a moment to observe the wind’s stirring of his golden locks and the curvature of the earth between himself and the target. He raised his bow and fired one, two, three times in quick succession.



There was no audible ‘thunk’ of the arrows hitting the target, but when the servants brought it back for inspection, there was a neat little hole through the middle of it. Searching down range, the challengers found all three arrows – the first one had embedded in a small tree in the edge of the forest further down range. The subsequent arrows had struck the first dead on, splitting it each time, and eventually felling the tree like the blows of an axe. Aphrodite touted this as an unbeatable performance, but Apollo argued that any conventional rules would require the arrow to remain lodged in the target for the score to be valid. Athena supported this argument, and Apollo received a score of zero.

Dionysus, especially inebriated that day, only managed to fire one arrow, which somehow managed to go straight up. Hermes grew bored waiting for his turn and simply left. He was a favorite of both Zeus and Hera, leaving Aphrodite no real leverage to force him to stay in the competition. Ares seemed surprisingly nervous, and Odysseus, feeling bolder than anyone else, asked him what he could possibly be concerned about.

“Games are Heracles’s thing,” Ares explained, “I kill. It’s what I do. I’m good with a bow, but I don’t shoot at things that aren’t alive.”

“How do you practice, then?”

“Practice?” Ares seemed to think the notion was absurd.

“Well…” Odysseus stroked his short red beard, “Just… try not to hit any people, right?”

“I’m gonna try not to…” Ares said. He fired down range, his three arrows all missing the target. In the tree line beyond, two squirrels and a small bird dropped from the branches; the servants found the animals’ heads shot cleanly off.

Artemis patted her half brother’s arm as the servants brought back the small corpses, “Why have you and I never gone hunting together?” Ares took the corpses in his arms and walked away, sniffling. The god of war had made a legacy for himself slaughtering titans, monsters, and human warriors, and had often done so without regard for the considerations of compassion or basic decency, but the simple truth was that he liked animals.

Teucer was the first mortal to compete. He took three arrows in his bow hand, and with a blur of motion nocked and fired each of them in quick succession. All three arrows struck the target, tightly clustered at the bullseye.

Teucer was immediately followed by his half-brother, Ajax. Ajax was a grandson of Zeus, nearly as large and powerfully built as his uncle, Herakles. Unfortunately for Ajax, in most things he was about as sharp as a ball. He picked up the bow – which looked absolutely tiny in his hands – nocked his first arrow, and pulled it back… and back… and back. The weapon snapped under the strain of his powerful draw, sending the bow’s limbs flying down range while Ajax looked at the string and the arrow in his hands in confusion.

Odysseus went next. After estimating the wind speed, the weight of the arrow, and measuring the arms of the bow, he scribbled on a wax tablet for a few minutes. Finally, he took one of the arrows, snapped it in half, and tied it to the front of the bow. Looking down the length of the fixed shaft, Odysseus aimed at the target, and then slowly and deliberately turned slightly to his left and pointed the bow slightly upward. He repeated this tedious process with every shot, but each shot struck the center of his target, the arrows grouped nearly as closely as Teucer’s.

Menelaus and Diomedes – raised to be well-rounded, skilled warriors – scored nearly as well as Odysseus without the ponderous calculations. Patroclus somehow missed the target all three times. Achilles, who’d been offended by some disrespectful comments from Diomedes, had decided to compete, and – to no one’s surprise - scored high, despite his size. However, Agamemnon who was doing whatever he could to help his brother win, insisted that Achilles should be disqualified – the boy had not used the bow, opting instead to throw the arrows down range like javelins. That, Agamemnon argued, was not technically archery. The other suitors gave a mixed but unremarkable showing. Then, finally, it came Paris’s turn.

Like Achilles, the boy was too young to wed Helen, even by the standards of the day, but being completely smitten, he held onto the hope that he might prove himself to Helen. Diomedes mocked him relentlessly, which made Paris all the more determined, and won the boy more favor with his cousin, Teucer, and Odysseus, who wanted to see the underdog at least beat out Diomedes.

Paris was clearly nervous as he took the bow in his hand – he’d talked a big game to get into the competition, and he felt sure he was about to humiliate himself. Teucer gave him some last minute coaching, but the boy’s hands were still shaking as he tried to nock his first arrow. Odysseus got down on his knee to talk to the kid privately.

“You’ve shot a bow before right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Did well?”

“Okay enough,” Paris said.

“But your nervous because everyone’s watching?”

“Yeah… it’s stupid but…”

“No, it’s good,” Odysseus said, “When you become great at something, that nervousness makes you better.”

“But I’m not great at archery,” Paris lamented.

“You will be someday,” Odysseus said, “Until then… you just need an edge.”

“What sort of edge?” Paris asked.

Odysseus pulled out the coin he'd been given in 'trade' for his golden apple. He’d carried it with him every day since his last conversation with Athena, months ago, “See this coin?” Odysseus started, “When I was coming back from North Africa, I ran into some bad luck. I lost ten men, nearly got eaten by sharks, and lost a fight to a pirate captain. He took the greatest treasure I was going to bring back to my people, but he tossed me this coin, and told me, ‘Better luck next time.’ After that, we had smooth sailing all the way home, and every day since then.”

“You think the coin really brought you luck?”

“Yeah,” Odysseus lied as he pressed the coin into Paris’s hand, “This is the real deal.”

Emboldened by Odysseus’s gift, the boy loosed his first arrow and, to the surprise of many, hit the target. Achilles cheered, and made a comment about the old fogeys underestimating them. On his third try, Paris scored a bullseye, placing him, technically, in fifth place.