Aeneas rubbed the bridge of his nose. Mynes was the bane of his existence. King Euenus sent his son to handle all of Lyrnessus’s dealings with Troy, and Priam sent Aeneas – not Hector, Paris, or any of his other 48 actual sons – to deal with Lyrnessus. ‘Uncle Priam’ claimed that because Aeneas had grown up on a plantation on the slopes of Mt. Ida, he was better equipped to deal with Troy’s southern allies. Both Aeneas and Mynes knew that sending a cousin's son to negotiate instead of one's own son was a political statement – Troy needed Lyrnessus less than Lyrnessus needed Troy.
Although Lyrnessus was physically one of Troa’s closest neighbors, they seldom conducted themselves as such. Lyrnessus and Thebe were separated from Troa by Mt. Ida, which created a wall between Thebe and Troy’s surrounding lands that nearly stretched to the southern coast. As the crow flew, Lyrnessus and Troy were themselves no more than 80 kilometers apart, but because of Mt. Ida, Euenus and his predecessors had always acted like Troy was on the other side of the Aegean. They maintained better relations with the island of Lesbos, which effectively guarded the entrance to their bay.
Tonight the people of Lyrnessus and Thebe were jointly celebrating Artemis, asking for her favor. It seemed strange to Aeneas to hold such a celebration out on the water in the middle of the bay, rather than on the forested slopes of Mt. Ida, but there was apparently some tenuous logic connecting Artemis to the tides.
“We feel great sympathy for Troy,” Mynes said, “But this is not Lyrnessus’s fight. Our princes have the good damned sense not to abduct our trade partner’s wives.”
“No, you just purchase your wives from your trade partners.” Aeneas had always found the idea of purchasing a wife – or even paying for a prostitute – abhorrent. If a man could not bed a woman on his own merits, he wasn’t much of a man. Mynes, however, seemed to completely miss the fact that Aeneas had intended an insult.
“Exactly!” the Lyrnessan prince exclaimed, “We are not savages! We are men of peace. We do not steal! We do not fight! We negotiate. Did I ever tell you how I got my own wife, Briseis?”
“Yes, many times.”
“Briseis, come over here!” Mynes shouted to his legal spouse. Aeneas could see the woman’s fist ball and shake slightly, then release as her shoulders slumped. She abandoned the conversation she’d been having with her friend Astynome to attend to her husband.
“Yes husband?” Briseis asked. It was said not as a term of endearment, but simply a grim statement of reality.
Mynes didn’t thank her for answering his call, or even explain to her why he’d called her over. He simply continued talking at Aeneas as if Briseis was a visual aid.
“Look at her!” Mynes shouted, “Look at her! Amazing isn’t she? Probably the most beautiful woman in Lyrnessus now.”
Aeneas wouldn't have denied that Briseis was attractive. Perhaps she was not the picture of beauty as a poet would have described - she was not fair-skinned, blonde, or slight of build like her friend, Astynome. Instead, Briseis was beautiful in the way a less learned but more honest man would have described his ideal woman. Aeneas could tell, however, that Briseis was in no way flattered or honored by her husband's praise.
Mynes continued, “Her father was asking a mint for her. You would not believe the price he put on her. And there were no shortage of other suitors who were scraping together the money to pay it. But I found out from her stable boy that when she went out riding, she never rode side-saddle. She just straddled her father’s horses like a man. So I requested that he have his servant women inspect her maidenhead, and low and behold – absolutely wrecked. I slipped a small sum to some other business associates to say that she’d given up her virginity years ago, and had been thoroughly used since then. That drove off the other suitors, and her dumbass father had no choice but to lower his price. Bam! Virgin for the price of a whore.”
Listening to Mynes talk about women made Aeneas feel ill; the man was toxic, and Briseis had to bear the full brunt of it. Aeneas imagined that almost anything had to be better than sharing a bed with the disgusting pig-shit of a man.
“That’s very interesting,” Aeneas lied, “Now, as to Lyrnessus’s response, I feel I should remind you – the Greek fleet is only a matter of miles from here…”
“Which concerned us greatly,” Mynes said, “Until Poseidon intervened and stranded their ships on the beach. I don’t think we need to worry too much about them blockading our port or raiding our trade ships, do you?”
“They still have an army that’s more than capable of marching over here and taking Thebes and Lyrnessus both.”
“Piffle,” Mynes said, “They cannot lay siege to Troy and Dardanus, and also march south to attack us. Even if they did, can you imagine an army of any size marching around that narrow gap between Mt. Ida and the coast. Our ships could attack them from the water, and massacre them while their soldiers were standing in line, waiting their turn.”
“The Greeks brought Achilles, and Achilles brought his Myrmidons, do you comprehend that? Each of those men is worth three of any other Greek, and Achilles is worth a hundred. They’ve made a point of training in rough terrain and striking where and when they are least expected. And their coordinated – they work as if they were guided by a single mind, like an ant colony.”
“How many Myrmidons does he have? A thousand? Two thousand? No? I think we’ll be fine.”
“But Kassandra believes…”
“Kassandra? Priam’s little girl? Is it true she’s still telling Hector where to go and what to do? Imagine that, a man like Hector letting a child run his war for him. No wonder the Greeks are still in Troa. Now, when and if you think of something of value Troy can offer – aside from ‘protecting’ us by burning our ships and forcing our people from their homes – we can resume this conversation. Until then, there is wine to drink.”
Aeneas was frustrated. Kassandra had predicted that Thebes and Lyrnessus would be the next to fall before Achilles, and while Aeneas himself didn’t trust everything that came out of her mouth, he trusted Hector, and on this Hector apparently agreed with Kassandra.
“Can you talk to him?” Aeneas asked Briseis.
“No,” she said simply.
“You agree with him?”
“No,” Briseis said, “but my marriage is not like Hector and Andromache’s. Mynes believes women should be displayed and seen when beautiful, hidden away and neglected when not. And in either case, they cannot be heard.”
“I’m sorry,” Aeneas said.
“Well, if you’re really sorry, is there any chance you can do like Paris and abduct me from my husband?” Briseis asked, “Take me back to Troy with you? No? Of course not. Can’t jeopardize your relationship with Troy’s most useless ally.” She left him to resume her conversation with Astynome at the aft railing of the moored ship they were on.
“Your failure here is irrelevant,” a woman’s voice startled him from behind.
Aeneas turned around to see a woman of unrivaled sensual beauty, inexplicably unnoticed by the other party goers. Had the other men been able to see past her mystical glamour they would likely have been begging her to go to bed with them. Aeneas, however, would not have been one of them.
“Hello mother,” Aeneas said.
“Ugh, ‘mother’. I hate that. Makes me sound old and ugly like Hera. Having to take human form is bad enough; must I also hear my own son saying such hateful things to me?”
Aeneas sighed, “Hello Aphrodite,” he corrected himself.
“Much better,” she smiled as she took his arm, “Anyway, as I was saying, it’s already too late for Lyrnessus and Thebes. Soon, their fates will be sealed.”
“And why are you here, then?”
“I’m not completely devoid of maternal compassion,” she said, “And I want to make sure that you leave this party alive. I promised your father you would have a long and wonderful future ahead of you, and I’m not about to see it end here.”
“Really? You’re worried I’m going to start a duel with Mynes or something?”
“Ha! Of course not. You’re a demigod; you would crush the insignificant little man. Honestly, you should have done so years ago - I see how you look at his wife. You'd be doing her a favor and yourself one as well. But, it's too late for that. Achilles is coming, and against him I would not give you good odds.”
“Coming? To this party?” Aeneas asked.
“Yes – think about it, all these important people, in one place, beyond their well-guarded palaces and estates, where else would Achilles strike? He’ll take hostages, and leverage them for control of their home cities. You must not be taken. If you are captured, they can ransom you to Troy, force Priam to choose between your freedom and Helen’s.”
“Maybe that would be for the best,” Aeneas muttered.
Aphrodite slapped his arm, “Don’t be a fool. There’s a very good chance Priam would choose his own son’s lover over the child of his backwater cousin. How is your father, by the way?”
“He can’t walk anymore,” Aeneas says, “The nerve damage from that lightning bolt…”
“Hm, such a shame,” Aphrodite almost sounded like she cared, “Anyway, there’s an even better chance you won’t make it to the bargaining table. The Greeks are savages, and Menelaus will hold you accountable for his wife’s abduction.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? Stop the party and tell them the goddess of sex has revealed a Greek plot to me?”
“Of course not; if that was what I wanted I’d tell them myself. I expect you to slip off the side of this boat and swim to shore. You’re more than capable of doing that.”
“And just leave all of these people for the Myrmidon’s to carry back to Agamemnon?”
“Honey, do you know how to destroy an ant hill?”
“Stomp on it?”
“No, fool. You feed it poison. Let the little workers carry it down, deep into their colony, and feed it to their masters. Once the head of the colony has been stricken down, the rest will whither and die.”
“What, are you… are you going to infect all of these people with a plague?”
“Pestilence isn’t really my thing, child,” Aphrodite said, “I have something more painful in mind, though if all goes to plan, a plague will come in due course. Now. go. Off with you. I need to work my charms on Briseis's friend before Achilles arrives.”
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