The Calydoniad
By A.J. Mittendorf
"Stop, friends! What are you saying!? I must caution you against praising any man too highly, especially one you do not know. I heard you ask, as you raised your cups just now, for your sons to grow into Meleager's image; your toasts are surely misguided. How much have you had to drink?
"Yes, it is true that Meleager saved the city, Calydon. That he routed all the war-loving Curetes from its walls cannot be denied, and all alone as well, for he had been blessed with invincibility; this is how the story goes in every land as far as men may sail, which is just, for that is how all who fought for Calydon decided that it should be remembered, but not for Meleager's sake! For his father's, for Oeneus is a man of honour. I was among those who fought for Calydon with Priam. I am Mygdon, a king in Phrygia and Priam's right-hand man when we sailed to Calydon where the real hero is Oeneus, followed closely by king Priam and his sworn brother, Nestor, king of Pylos. These men are heroes! Do not curse your sons with Meleager's deeds.
"Sit with me, and I will tell you the tale, all I saw with my own eyes; what I did not see, I learned from Priam, who heard from Oeneus, who learned, again, from witnesses and other worthy sources. Now, after every harvest, Oeneus was always dutiful in his sacrifices to the Olympians, except, one time, after he had begun to grow old, he overlooked Artemis. She became so enraged that she cursed him with a giant, wild boar that would ravage Calydon until her wrath subsided. That boar caused much damage, but it was hunted and killed, and its hide became an envied prize. We Trojans missed the hunt, having arrived at Calydon too late, so you know as much of the boar as I. So I begin my tale in the middle of things. But let me first invoke the muses' blessing, that I may accurately tell you all that happened with Meleager and Calydon.
"Bend low my muses, Clio and Calliope. Touch my tongue that I may sing the song of wrath--Meleager's wrath and war and the death he bore, and all for naught." . . .
. . ."While deliberations continued without resolve--deliberations concerning who truly deserved to be awarded the prize of the boar's great hide--we Trojans, led by our mighty king, Priam, amid shouts and war cries, disembarked our ship and ran for Calydon clothed in armour. We did not know yet that we had already missed our chance to hunt the boar for Calydon's sake and win renown for Priam" . . .
. . . The Trojan swords and spears sliced the sky as the men whooped and hollered in celebration of the hunt, yet all they found was a host of heroes, a huddle of kings and their armies sitting sullen, at rest and only waiting outside the walls of Calydon. Priam and his men silenced their hooting and stood near Nestor. Priam was the first to speak.
"Sir, he said, my men and I have come from far away to win renown for ourselves and for our home. We understand that a monstrous boar troubles Calydon, and that many heroes hunt it. I see the heroes before me, for many of them I know of; their exploits are told even at the far end of the Black Sea. Jason is there; he lead the Argonauts to Colchis and returned with the Golden Fleece; and many other Argonauts I recognize. I must admit that I do not know you, sir, but there sit the Dioscuri, twins by separate fathers, and there lies Acastus, and Echion there, and Idas, Euphemus, Peleus, and Ancaeus. Cepheus, king in Tagea rests there. Noble Phoenix reclines there with Theseus who saved Athens from the Amazons. But where is the hunt? And why are all these fine kings sitting idle with entire armies at their sides when there is a prize to win?"
"You must indeed have traveled far," Nestor answered," if you were told about the great boar, and have just arrived to hunt it. Join me here, your men as well, and I will explain to you why these men sit idle. But tell me first who you are, from where you hail, and how I may address you."
"I am Priam, king of Troy, and these men are my trusted men-at-arms."
"I know of Troy; you have made a long journey. I am Nestor, Pylos' king. Welcome to you all. The boar of which you speak is dead. When we arrived, Calydon's king, Oeneus, feted us for nine days, and on the tenth we set out on the hunt. The famed virgin huntress, Atalanta, was the first to wound the beast. Then Amphiaraus, a seer, shot it in the eye, a fine shot, but it did not die. Mighty Meleager, a prince here in Calydon and also one of the Argonauts, finally killed it, thrust a knife into its side.
"When the boar lay dead, gutted and skinned--a great prize--Meleager seized his right to give it to Atalanta. But the Curetes, who are native to this region and who joined us in the hunt, consider his gesture to be an insult. Women, they feel, should not gain a prize against a man. And their own princes, who are also Meleager's four uncles, swear that if he turns down the prize, it should fall to them. They claim that not Atalanta, but Iphiclus, one of their own, drew first blood. I was there and saw the first strike from a tree in which I sought refuge from the boar when my weapons were spent. Still, Meleager stands by his decision, and now five heated tempers debate who the winner of the hide should be:Iphiclus and Plexippus, two of the Curetian princes; their father, Thestius, who rules the Curetes; Oeneus; and Meleager himself. They are there, in that tent by the forest, and although they debate in peace, I am certain that a fight may break. My stomach tells me that the anger of Artemis is not yet appeased and that Oeneus will yet suffer loss. My men and I, all these heroes before you and all their men too, will fight the Curetes for Oeneus' sake should the need arise.
"Now, tell me of your journey and all of your adventures that brought you here, my lord Priam. How did you hear of the boar all the way from Troy, and why were you delayed from the hunt?"
"It is a pity that we missed the hunt, Priam began, but if there is a battle, sir, I, for one, am glad that we are here, for it would be an honour to fight for noble Calydon. The gods, it seems, have willed us here for greater deeds than hunting for a hide, even though it is a prize second only to the Golden Fleece that Jason and his doughty crew captured at Colchis.
"Our journey, though, was not from Troy, but from the River Thermodon, itself not far from Colchis, where we had fought the Amazons, amazing women warriors, and having prayed to Poseidon for more adventure, we were told of the boar by a little bird, no longer than my finger, that had flown from Calydon humming the tune of the boar's great wrath. So we poured libations, burned the bulls, and prayed to our patron god: 'Poseidon, take us quickly to Calydon across the sea.'
"Then great winds from the east blew us swiftly through the Hellespont. We did not stop at Troy, our beloved home whose walls Poseidon himself had built. Instead, we ventured straight across the sea, south and west at speeds no ship has ever traveled, but as we passed Attica, even fiercer winds blew us off our course and beached us east of Corinth. The winds continued blowing, denying us a chance to set sail again. We despaired thinking on all that we would miss. Then Mygdon, my right-hand man here, recalled that the Argonauts bore the Argo on their backs when a flood tide left her high and dry at the gulf of Syrtis where no ship that enters can ever leave. Those men carried the mighty Argo across the land as she had born them on the sea. For nine days and nights they followed the trail of one of Poseidon's chariot horses who had come out of the sea, knowing that it would have to return to it. A hundred miles they bore the Argo on their backs, and we had only five to travel with the wind across the Isthmus! And so, we carried our faithful ship, the Laelaps, across the land, and on the other side we sailed again. Poseidon thrust us here, and here we stand, disappointed to have missed the hunt, but willing still, to fight for noble Calydon--
"--At least we were. Who is this man I took no note of, who had been lying with his back to us, but now lies on his back? Is this not the villain Telamon? I should have known when I recognized Peleus that Telamon would also be here. I can not side with him! By Zeus, I will strike him dead while he sleeps!"
Nestor stood and blocked Priam's arms as he was about to swing his sword: "What trouble has Telamon caused you?" he asked holding Priam's arms in mid-strike. "He was also among Argonauts whom you admire so greatly, and he is loyal to Calydon. Tell me why you would want him dead."
Priam lowered his sword, but his anger was still apparent: "He and that heartless scoundrel, Heracles, attacked my home when my father refused them payment for a certain simple task. They did little more than whistle a tune. Heracles killed my father and every brother, sparing me alone, a boy to rule Troy. This man, Telamon, took as his concubine my sister, Hesione, whom I have not seen since. I have no pleasant thoughts for either man."
"My heart burns in anger with yours and for your cause, Priam," Nestor calmed Priam with these words, "but do not take Telamon's life, even though you are clearly in the right. Rather, let your wrath be our bond in friendship. I also secretly stew in anger against Heracles. He attacked Elis, then Laconia, and then my home, Pylos, when I was just a boy, perhaps in an attempt to rule all Messenia or all the Peloponnese. Ambition is bred in proportion to one's ability, and Heracles' ability is greater than any man's. He killed my father and every brother, sparing me alone, a boy to rule Pylos. I have no qualm with Telamon, but Heracles lacks a hero's honour and all my admiration."
Priam smiled and sheathed his sabre, "I will lay aside my anger with Telamon as you say, Nestor; he simply followed a man's way, after all, and I will join myself with you in a bond of endless friendship based on our lost blood; we are brothers! Let us fight together for Calydon, and never fight each other!"
While they embraced, the conference of the elders broke without a satisfactory decision concerning the ownership of the boar's hide. Plexippus and Iphiclus, Meleager's uncles, retained their anger through the deliberations, and Meleager would not relent. But, while his uncles left the meeting angry, still, they left in peace. Meleager, though, was not so quickly calmed. Invulnerable in warfare as he was, Meleager, angered by his uncles' impudence, attacked them from behind. Plexippus, the first to die, received a javelin through his side. He fell to the dust as darkness closed his eyes. Iphiclus' head and body fell on separate spots of ground, severed by Meleager's sword. These were Oeneus' youthful brothers-in-law whom he had loved as sons, with whom he hunted, warred, and traveled around and through his home and built his lustrous city. He stood stunned by his son's act. Thestius, however, was outraged. In his wrath, he ran to rouse his kin for war, and Oeneus, unable to reconcile himself to Thestius--friend and ally, colleague and family--quickly did the same.
Priam quickly ran to Calydon's side to speak with its illustrious king: "My lord, Oeneus, I offer to you my service and all my men who stand with me today. Although I call Troy home, I am no foreigner. Teucer, Troy's founder, was born and raised in Attica before settling in Phrygia. His son-in-law, Dardanus, was a son of Zeus and claimed Samothrace as his home. Further, as a token of my loyalty to you, I swear on all the walls of Troy that Nestor and I have joined in an endless bond of friendship. Further still, my men and I have just arrived from fighting the Amazons who favour Artemis, the vengeful goddess that instigates this war."
Oeneus answered in father-like love to the much younger Priam as they walked toward the walls of Calydon, "It is no man's place to call a god or goddess guilty, Priam. It was I who should have been more careful when I made my harvest offerings. But what to do with my son who bears the burden of invincibility? There lies another challenge for today. A god can endure wild wrath with no ill effects, but a man who burns with rage, as Meleager does, will soon succumb to it." Oeneus stopped walking and faced Priam with renewed pleasure. "And yet, we welcome you and all your men, and we are glad for yours and Nestor's bond. Friendship is a powerful ally, Priam. Who knows what blessings may befall a man's family because of friendship? I once brought into my home a man called Bellerophon; he stayed with me, hiding from those who would take his life based on a false accusation; I could see from his integrity that he was innocent. That was long ago, but still I know that my bond with Bellerophon will bless my children some day. Friendship will not end every fight, nor will it always prevent them, but there is no other way to end a fight than through friendship. And calling Nestor 'friend' is no small honour, Priam, for either of us" . . .
. . . "These are the words of a man to honour, my friends. On the verge of war he sides with the gods and teaches a younger colleague about friendship and piety. These are the words of a man whom our sons should imitate; these are the words of a hero. Now, listen further as you witness the 'heroic' deeds of Meleager. Compare them with those of his father, and see for yourselves which of them you favour for your sons to imitate." . . .
. . ."The Curetes were not slow in their response to their king's battle cry, but in haste, they donned their arms, and, with shouts and cries, they met us, all who fought for Calydon, for they love the fight more than their family." . . .
. . . The Curetes sallied in full force with all anger, greeting spear with spear, sword with sword, and wound with wound. Nestor and Priam, fighting side by side, met their foes with mighty skill. Peleus and Theseus, too, made strong defenses against theirs. The Dioscuri fell their marks without the slightest change in their serene expressions. But of all the soldiers who fought for Calydon, none was nearly as lethal as Meleager who, with ease in the war's first hours slew Echion, then Coresus, then Evenor, then Tyllus, and Udaeus, Trachius, Thaumas, Dolops--and more--each a childhood friend. Above them all, his remaining uncles, Evippus and Eurypylus; to them Meleager gave the silent slicing of his sword.
When he saw how so many fighters fell to Meleager, Priam commented to Nestor: "It is good to know that we fight on Meleager's side; he battles with passion and without regard of office, rank, or even kinship. He will win renown, and together, despite the Curetes' great numbers, we will surely save worthy Calydon."
As the battle wore on, news of it spread within the walls of Calydon. The women there, fearful for their lovers, fathers, or brothers, ran to tell their friends, and soon many of them stood on the walls to watch the war in horror and to pray for the safe returns of the men. But not all the women went to the walls. When the news of all her brothers' deaths finally reached Althaea's ears, she marched out on the field to where her son, Meleager, fought. Not a single sword was swung, nor a spear hurled in her direction, for no man was coward enough to kill a woman, and no man with, even with sword in hand, was courageous enough to kill a woman who ranks as high as Althaea, daughter of Thestius, wife of Oeneus, and queen of Calydon, yea, queen of all Aetolia. She marched toward Meleager with spears for eyes and a sword for a tongue, and she spoke with vengeance to her spoiled son: "Dead, Meleager, all dead? Every brother I had is dead by your hand? Every brother, your uncles, dead?! Who now is left to comfort your grandfather in his final days? Who will fill his house with warriors who bear his name? In warfare you are invulnerable, but not in all things. Your skill outweighs your judgment. You can be destroyed, Meleager, and so you shall be." She raised her voice so that it carried as far away as Olympus: "I pray to Hades and Persephone, that they bring death upon, Meleager, and that I may be of use to them in bringing it to pass. And they will answer, Meleager; be sure, they will answer. When this war finally closes, even while you stand as victor, the loss of your skin will not be far behind. There is no escape for you; spend your final minutes in pleasure."
As she had marched out on the field, so she marched away to mourn and weep in the solitude of her home for all her brothers. Meleager, aghast by his mother's fury, backed out from the fray to hide himself and seek the comfort of his wife, the lovely Cleopatra. Then, with Meleager gone, the tide of battle turned to favour the Curetes, much to the sorrow of Althaea; one by one the raging war claimed all her younger sons. Toxeus fell, then Thyreus, Clymenus, Ageleus, and finally, Periphas. Tydeus alone the gods spared so that he might aid his mother's aching heart and, in time, take on more adventures later in Thebes.
Seeing how so many fighters fell to the Curetes since Meleager left the war, Nestor said to Priam, "So certain, are you, that Meleager stands on our side? He, the mightiest man among us, has left us on our own to fight this war that he began. To desert is no less than to be a traitor and all the more so for Meleager. Without his strength we may not defeat the war-like Curetes; their numbers and prowess are too great. So encourage your men to fight against their trend of depending on Meleager. Pick up what he left and fight for Calydon as you would for your own city! Remember all your friends you left at home; fight to return to them!"
At dusk, Meleager sulked in bed where he had been since he left the battlefield. He wept on the shoulder of his lovely bride, Cleopatra, because his mother's curse weighed mightily on his heart. Despite the heavy losses in the first day of battle, Tydeus left the field and came to chide him: "Get up from you bed, Meleager; rejoin the battle--the battle you began. Will the future king turn tail because his mother chastises him? Get up, I say; we have lost five brothers; our father has lost five sons! What will become of him when he is old if he has no more sons to care for him? Get up and fight at my side to spare him all those lonely years. Our mother's curse means nothing, spoken out of loss and anger. She will love you once again if you fight to save what remains."
"I am not surprised to see that you defend our mother," Meleager returned, "for of her seven sons she always seems to favour you. There will be no future king of Calydon because there will be no Calydon in the future; may this wretched city fall! Mother's curse will be fulfilled, but she will die as well as I. Our father, Lord Oeneus, is old but not too old to marry again and breed another brood; let them save his city. Now go to fight; leave me here."
Cleopatra lay silently beside Meleager knowing that no one could rouse him from his tantrum if there were nothing he cared for enough to want to fight. She fought within her mind, considering what she might do, but to no avail; she could think of nothing to persuade Meleager to leave her side.
That night, as the sky grew too dark for soldiers to recognize their enemies from their allies, both sides put their arms to rest, but when Dawn spread her feminine fingers across the east, Oeneus saw from the top of his walls an enormous wheeled weight on the hill where Calydon's walls faced away from the sea, toward the Curetes' home; there were no gates there, but the walls were dangerously thin. It was that side of Calydon that, when the walls were still under construction, Oeneus thought would be defended by the war-loving Curetes, his allies, should his city ever know war; he failed to recognize the possibility of defending Calydon from them. Oeneus himself went to rouse Meleager: "The walls are targeted and will likely collapse to the Curetes. You know as well as any that with their strength and numbers we can not win a war against them without you. You have the blessed gift of invincibility; we need you--now while there is time. I am too old to win renown that is by right your own. Take the reigns and rule your wrath, Meleager. Use it now to end the war that you began."
Meleager remained aloof: "All that you built, all that you rule, all that you hold dear will one day pass from you no matter what transpires now. I am Calydon's future king, so what is it to you if even now my reign shall end by my own hand? I curse the city whose ruler curses me, no matter how closely related she may be. Let Calydon die."
"Where is the wisdom I thought you had? Is this the leadership Jason showed in Colchis? If so, you should never have returned." Oeneus left to lead the defense of his city. Again, Cleopatra, having listened silently, wondered what she might do, what news she might use to wake her husband's nobler part so that he might save their home. She was left without a notion.
Oeneus poured libations to the gods while the day's fighting got underway. The rolling ram had wheeled its way down hill guided by the Fates, and its impact on Calydon's walls shook the entire city. The Curetes rolled the hammer back up the hill to let it hit again while men-at-arms shot out from Calydon. As when ants pour out from their nests to fight with selfless passion in protest of the prodding finger of some playful child, so Calydon rushed to rid their city of this menace, and each was met, one for one, by his own Curetian counterpart.
The ram hit the wall a second time, and both Priam and Nestor, in the boldness of their youth, climbed the wall from within the city and leaped together onto the ram. Using their swords, spears, and stones from the wall, they did all they could to dissuade the Curetes from using their hammer. Undaunted by the effort, the Curetes pulled the ram up hill for a third hit, and the shaking of her home jarred Cleopatra into action. She knelt before Meleager and clutched his knees: "Meleager, all will soon be lost unless you complete what you began."
"Are you against me now? I thought that you, at least, would understand that even if I fight and win, my mother's curse will stand. Fight or not, I will die. Would it not be better for us to die together in each other's arms, than for me to die alone in battle far from your love and embrace?"
"But you are invincible in warfare, Meleager. What can you fear?"
"My dear, sweet mother has in her possession a piece of fire wood. Atropus told her that I would live only as long as that log stays in tact; when it falls to ash, I will die. Mother told me when I was still a child how, as soon as she heard, she pulled the log from within the fire with her bare hands. To keep it safe--to keep me safe--she wrapped it in cloth and hid it. All she must do is burn the rest of it and I am finished. So her curse is more of a threat than you may think."
Drying her tears, Cleopatra answered, "She did not curse your son who lives even now within his mother's womb." She blushed and looked quickly to the floor. "Forgive me," she quietly begged. "I would have told you sooner, but there never seemed a proper time. But unless you fight now, both he and I will surely die with you. My husband, fight to save your unborn son's life!"
With this, in haste, Meleager donned his arms, kissed his wife, and bade her farewell, but even as he left her side, the walls succumbed to the final impact of the Curetes' hammer and collapsed beneath the feet of many Calydonian warriors, the stones of the breach piling high within the city. But above the din rang the war cry of Meleager as he rushed to join the fight: "Aetolians and all who fight for Calydon, why are you so eager to turn the city and your honour over to those who only want their swords stained with your red blood? Perhaps you think that those gods who carry bows and arrows will fight in your defense? You may wish for Eros to make the Curetes fall in love with you. Or if Apollo fires, do you suppose that they will sing to you? Or maybe you hope that his twin, Artemis, will fight at your side. Not at all, my friends; it is she who wants us to fall. Fight, I say, that we may go afterwards to love our wives, sing to our children, and hunt together for the hide of another boar!"
Encouraged by their friend's return, every Calydonian doubled his effort. Each met his opponent's eyes with renewed strength and courage, and fought as though they had just awakened, refreshed from a restful sleep. Meleager himself fought at the front beginning at the Curetes' ram; what would be a lethal trap for anyone else was a stronghold for Meleager. Climbing steadily down the ram, killing and maiming as he moved, he finally stood on solid ground, and his enemies, inch by inch, were either moved away from Calydon or slain beside it.
Under Meleager's lead, the Calydonian's backs were safe against the walls. They aided Meleager as he, single-handedly, drove the Curetes from the city. He offered them life or death, back away or die. Many chose the latter, so thick was their fury, but, by the close of the war's second day, those Curetes who preferred to live turned tail, seeking shelter in the nearby forest.
Oh, the cheers Calydon thrust toward heaven! They echoed out around the city in all directions like the warmth a fire gives in the cold of night. Every soldier danced about, and thrust his sabre high into the air, and hugged his brother fighter. Then, under Meleager's orders, Priam, Nestor, and others chased the Curetes, capturing many, and brought them back to Meleager. He stood them in a line, planning to feed one of every three his sword directly through the belly, but his hand was stayed by a call from Oeneus: "No! That you shall not do! The Curetes have been friends, and they will be so again if they are well treated. Let them go!"
Meleager scowled as his prisoners gloated in his face then ran to the forest. Soon after, Oeneus called to his men from the wall. "My friends--my family--the war is won and I do wish rest and rewards for you for all your blessed service to me and to Calydon. But first, let us remember those who fell in battle. Remember, too, that beneath this crumbled bit of wall will no doubt lie the crushed remains of Calydon's citizens. I know that you are wearied from the battle. that you would like to rest and drink, and clap each others' backs. I ask, however, that you use the strength of victory for service to the dead. Some of you dig graves there near the breach. Others bring the bodies of the fallen to the graves, whether friend or foe. And still others, come into the city. You must clear away the debris of the wall, searching for bodies that must also be buried as heroes. Let us bury them before the sun sets in honour of this war's end that was granted us in just two days. And I swear on my father's name, whatever plunder you each may find, unless we know that it belongs to the living, you may keep it as a part of your reward."
Silently and in devotion for Oeneus who loves his citizens as he does himself, the men began to labour. In pairs, some collected bodies from the field, finding among them various armlets, bracelets, signet rings, amulets, and talismans. The armour they kept for themselves, as becomes wise soldiers, but the other treasures were piled together for later appraisal and fair distribution. Some others dug graves, and still others, including Nestor, Priam, and the seer, Amphiaraus, unburied bodies from the wall's rubble, rolling stone from stone. Soon they pulled a body here, a body there, and laid them gently in the dust. Seventeen bodies--soldiers, wives, mothers, children--they found crushed beneath the wall. They, too, would be buried well.
By then Meleager had forgotten his mother's curse, feeling secure in his military prowess and confident that his reward should be the finest. He sat himself beside his father watching as the men laboured for the sake of Oeneus when Nestor heard the crying of a child from underneath the rubble; he and Priam dug in haste to find the life that they yet may save. Clutched beside his mother's breast and covered by his father's sturdy arms, a naked infant boy bemoaned the darkness and the blood, and he, by Nestor's hands, was born again from rock--a sturdy prize given Nestor by the gods; he raised him to the king. "My lord, Oeneus, see the life that the Fates have spared!" As he spoke, a pair of eagles screeching overhead came together, mating as they dove, and drew all eyes to heaven. Amphiaraus stood nearby and interpreted the omen for Nestor: "It is a sign that the gods themselves have blessed this child, Nestor, and his bearer--you. Take the boy and teach him to be a warrior in the image of his father who is lying at your feet; I knew him well--him and his lovely bride who lies beside him even in death. He was a mighty warrior, I promise you, but why he stayed inside the walls during war the gods have not revealed. Even so, he was armed for war; he was certainly no coward. But know for certain, Nestor, no one lives to raise this boy to manhood, save you. I see that he will be an asset and an honour to the family of his youth--a man of wise decisions and brave deeds."
Having heard all this, Meleager turned, addressing Oeneus: "Father, I claim this child as my prize for my victory on your enemies--the finest of the city's spoils, a young warrior to raise in my own image!"
Priam whispered, then, in Nestor's ear, "Hold tightly to the child, Nestor. Meleager won the war, indeed, but the cost may not have been so great if he had not turned tail at the beginning of the fight. The child's parents, in fact, may have lived if he had stayed to fight. Either way, he should not get the child as he claims."
Strengthened by Priam's words, Nestor addressed the prince: "Meleager, your father promised to us any booty we may find as part of our reward so long as its rightful owner is not alive. All of us heard his oath." All those present confirmed Nestor's words. "I found the child clutched beside his mother's breast and covered by his father's sturdy arms. They are dead; the child, then, is mine to raise.
"My lord, king Oeneus, to you I vow that I shall raise this child in my own home, and teach him all that he must know to be a soldier worthy of his heritage, and he will honour you as a father. He will be my son's brother, but I swear that he will know his home is Calydon."
And in great wrath, Meleager returned, "If not for me the battle would be lost, and you would have no prize to claim. Were you not among those who sighed in relief at my return, Nestor? The child is mine, for I remain the greatest of you all. I will raise him as my son's brother, not to be told of Calydon, but to know and love her as his own. Stand down, Nestor, or the battle may continue between the two of us."
They might have fought then, but Oeneus interrupted, speaking to his first-born son. "Meleager, all I have built, all that I rule, and all that I hold dear has passed from you today. I am Calydon's king, and what is it to you, my son, if my decision should favour Nestor?"
"Then, I am to win nothing for my victory over your enemies?"
"Oh, you have won rewards, Meleager," Amphiaraus offered. "We owe the swift end of this war to you, even though it was one that never needed to begin. You could have offered compensation to your uncles if only to end their wrath, and Calydon would still be whole, but you refused even that. Instead you killed your own uncles and began a war that you deserted before we fought for a day. You will have your reward for coming back: You will be remembered for all time as the one to kill the wild boar of Artemis and end the war that followed, saving Calydon twice. That alone will be your reward."
There Amphiaraus closed, and there Oeneus continued, "What is more, Meleager, you cursed my city--cursed it twice: once to your brother, Tydeus, and once to me. Curses are even mightier than you, Meleager. They are alive--conceived by people's words, and, like wild Titans, they gestate in men's hearts until they are certain that they can fulfill what has been spoken, then they birth themselves. I will do what I can to keep your curses from birth, for I will not let one who has so horribly shamed my name rule after me; my sceptre will not fall to you but to one who is wise enough to know that only a fool of a king would take a prize from the hands of a faithful soldier. The throne of the city you scorned in my presence will fall to Tydeus."
Meleager walked away into the woods, alone, and together Amphiaraus and Oeneus formally granted the child to Nestor. Amphiaraus asked him, "Are you pleased?"
"Oh, he is fine, a warrior with the noblest heart to be sure. What shall we call him?"
"He has already been useful, and he will be useful to you again one day, Nestor, I see that much. So let his name be Onessimus. Understand, though, Nestor, a child is an arrow shot from the bow of a marksman. You are the marksman; the arrow flies from you. Once away, it is no longer in your control, but without you, it does not fly at all."
"Your words reflect a prophecy told to me before I came to Calydon. A mute seer told me through an interpreter that a borrowed arrow from my own quiver would end strife between me and my sworn brother. I understand part of that prophecy now. What do you suppose the rest of it means?"
"Who knows? You will understand it all when it is time for you to. A prophet's words are given, not so much to tell the future as they are to assure humanity that gods have been at work in their deeds. When the time comes, you will look back and know that a god spoke through a man." . . .
. . . "So now you understand. Meleager was the victor. Without him Calydon would no longer be standing, but is that the kind of man you want your sons to be when they could just as easily be like you? But yes, Althaea's curse--what happened? You will need to know that or you will end up making excuses for yourselves instead of changes. Listen, then, and hear the end of this hero.". . .
. . . "How like a child Meleager sulked away; in his hand he held his sword that he swung at shrubs while he kicked pebbles lying in his path and declared under his breath: 'I never get the things I want even when I deserve them.'" . . .
. . . And even as he mumbled on his way, Curetian soldiers, waiting, hiding among the trees, surrounded him, showing, one by one, their faces. They had waited there in hopes of such an opportunity to seek revenge, but had not expected it to be so sweet. "And here we find Meleager, friends," one man spoke. "We never thought the prince himself would leave the safety of his city's walls, such as they are. Defend yourself, Meleager; you have won the right to die in vengeance for your uncles whom you slew. I am Aratus, and I will avenge Plexippus."
Another spoke up, "And I avenge Iphiclus!"
And another: "And I Evippus!"
And still another: "And here is a sword for Eurypylus!"
"Cheer up, Meleager," Aratus said, "you may defeat us four, but there are many more still hiding in the trees, more Curetes whose lives you may take; will that not be great fun! I wonder how long you can last. You may be great in war, Meleager, but not even you can fight forever."
Meleager smiled broadly, "When the new-born baby cries because he no longer bathes in the warmth of his mother's womb, the parents hear the infant's anger, and they smile, charmed, not intimidated by his wrath. Bring out your men, bring on the fight, and we will see how long I can last. Long enough to outlive you, certainly."
"Poor Meleager, you do not see it, do you? You did not win the boar's hide, you usurped its power. Look at your city in tatters, Meleager. You have accomplished for Artemis what the boar did not, and now we Curetes hunt you. We may yet win the prize of a boar's hide, am I right men?"
In the greatest rage a man can wield, Meleager swung his sword at Aratus, beginning the offensive attack against the Curetes that would take every one of them to beat.
Within the walls that remained, and deep within her home, Althaea sat dismayed for what she knew she must do. At rest upon her lap and cradled in her arms, she held a log as though it were her baby. In her daze, she could hear the baby's sleeping breath as she rocked it in her arms, singing gently and patting it softly. This was the log that she had rescued from the fire with her bare hands. She had doused it with water, and when it dried, she wrapped it in a cloth of silk, placed it in a box of bronze, and stored it in a chest of wood. But what is taken from Hestia must one day be returned, and this, the brand that Althaea held, she now sacrificed in the hearth--a burnt offering for the souls of her lost brothers and sons.
Meleager fought as though he were a child dancing to the joy and music of summer play. The first four men he dropped without a spot of his own blood released to the air, and he felt he knew the heated passion Uranos himself had known when all those mighty Titans fought him for his throne. As when a wolf is cornered by a man, he then will fight, making sure that he will be the victor. Thus Meleager fought, inflamed by his desire to beat these dogs into their places, returning then to home, to Cleopatra, and to his unborn son.
For her part, Cleopatra sank in bed, her heart in pain of grief, for she and he may have had another time alone wrapped in passion's arms and love's embrace for one last, long encounter, for she had also known that when the walls were broken, Meleager's days were done. It was her lie that sent him back to battle. She had thought to save the name "Meleager" from disgrace and had thought her feelings true and noble, but now she wondered: perhaps her pride had sent him; or was it simply her fear? Either way, she longed to have him back and safe and in her arms that they may make the child of her lie, but it was for nothing. Mere hours after Meleager left her side, Cleopatra died alone of grief.
Meleager fought and fought some more. He continued fighting, killing more Curetes than all he had before, until their bodies lay in heaps in a circle about him. Still more and more Curetes came; Meleager, growing weary, continued killing.
Althaea sat without blinking, watching the brand burn, but even as her tears welled, her heart remained as cold as the stone her husband had used to build the walls of Calydon.
And still more and more Curetes came; Meleager growing weary still, and wounded here and there about his arms and breast--and back--continued killing, but still more and more Curetes came--and died.
The fire warmed Althaea's heart at length, and with her tears repentance flowed. She fell to her knees to beg the gods to change things, but what the gods will, will be done. It occurred to her suddenly that somehow she, as yet, might save the log as she had before, but as her eyes turned toward the hearth, she saw that there was really none to save, and so she wept, bitterly she wept.
And still more and more Curetes came; Meleager, breathing hard, saw his nearing end, but still he fought, bleeding fast from wounds inflicted by the Curetes, but still he fought and killed, until Artemis, who had watched the war and all its deaths, disguised herself as Meleager's remaining brother, and stood beside him in the bloody circle of dead Curetes.
Encouraged by his brother's appearance, Meleager addressed the goddess, "Tydeus, you are just in time to help me rid our land of all Curetes. They sang and banged their swords to shields to save the infant Zeus from crowned Kronos' fury, but they will have no song to sing to save themselves from us. Together we will train these hounds to sit and speak at our commands. But let me rest a moment. You will fight alone just for now. In but a little time I will stand again to fight at your side, even as you said last night." And so he sat to rest himself, and each Curetian stood in wonder seeing neither goddess nor brother, but just Meleager, hearing him speak to no one, and watching him sit to rest.
Althaea sat, still alone, in grief no less horrible than that which claimed Cleopatra. She hung a noose and stretched her neck with it as the log of her son's birth and death finally fell to ash.
Meleager looked again and realized that he had lost. He saw that he was sitting while the battle laboured on. He saw that he, surrounded by living and slain, was slain himself. Tydeus had vanished, and Meleager understood that he had seen a vision--not his brother but an Eternal's trick. And even as he stood to raise his sword, the Curetes fell upon him; he was dead.
The Curetes skinned Meleager from scalp to feet and hung the skin in a tree as though daring the Argonauts to set sail again. With that, Artemis was appeased and there was room in the hearts of the Curetes for peace again between them and Calydon, that all Aetolians should be united. In time and as allies once again, the Curetes would help Oeneus rebuild his walls, and they would build them stronger and grander.
When Meleager's remains were buried in a tomb of honour, Oeneus hosted a celebration of the heroic deeds in those days of war. Abundant food he served, and drinks--oh, how the wine poured and the women danced, but there was no celebration in the hearts of his guests. Each man sat silent, eyes to the floor--a sombre celebration at best for Oeneus and all the losses he sustained in just two days. But Oeneus mourned the loss of gladness, so he called for all his scribes, and to the whole assembly he said, "Dear friends, I thank you for your service in my home. I know that you are saddened now, and I am twice honoured, for your hearts are weighted for these many deaths of my kin and you labour in sadness for my sake. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not think that I might be hurt by gaiety. My heart will carry grief enough when the time is right. This is a celebration! Think on all the glory we have seen during this war, as brief as it was. Let us together retell the tales, that they may be recorded for posterity. No tongue will be stilled today, my friends, no lyre will be silenced for my sake. Please, speak."
But no one spoke for many moments. All looked to the ground, only glancing up at those beside them to see if anyone else had words. Finally Nestor stood; he met the eyes of Oeneus and spoke bravely: "No other tale need be told, my lord, Oeneus, and let it be remembered for all time:" He raised his cup and claimed for all, "Meleager saved this city; let us remember the name Meleager and the honour he brought to Calydon for his lord and father." Thus he toasted Oeneus. Some of the men blanched at Nestor's words, but soon enough they understood. Then Priam stood to raise his cup, "Meleager saved this city by his might, Oeneus, for he alone stood invulnerable . . . To Meleager, the victorious dead!" Tydeus, too, stood to honour Oeneus: "Alone he routed every enemy from our sight, my lord. Indeed, Meleager saved this city! Any other tale is tale only. To Meleager!" Every soldier stood repeating, "To Meleager!" And so they toasted Oeneus together in their hearts; and were she to have heard it, Cleopatra would have been ungrieved . . .
. . . "Oeneus sat with honoured tears, glad that his name stood redeemed for all to follow; the tale of Meleager's shameful actions would never be revealed, or so we thought. Meleager, then, is remembered to this day as a hero to all who know of Calydon" . . .
"By telling you all this, I betray those comrades from that time so long ago; I would have kept my peace, but for your sons you cursed in gleeful ignorance--for their sakes I spoke, and for you, for now I see the danger of our pledge to honour Meleager for his father's sake. It too can be a curse. We must all know Meleager's shame to save our sons pathetic fates brought on by people telling legends, myths, and lies. No longer does the image of Meleager stand, and I will do what I can to topple any remaining monuments.
"Now, friends, I must be on my way. Priam is expecting the return of his lost son, Paris, who, I am told, has a new bride; I must stand with Priam as they meet, but I leave you with this:
"You may say to yourselves, 'It was not Meleager himself, but the familiar image of him that we wished for our sons, for we were ignorant of his shame. The gods will honour prayers of honest intent,' Not so, I fear. For if we pray the gods for gifts in ignorance, they, in knowledge may respond, and so our prayers are spoken wrongly, and our offspring pay the price. Consider the curse that Oedipus called on the murderer of Laius not knowing that he, himself, was the murderer. Was the curse cancelled on account of ignorance? Not at all; his curse fell on his own head: banishment; blindness; horrible deaths for his two sons at each other's hands; himself rejected from every home, having to trudge out his remaining years in turmoil, day after agonizing day, all because he cursed in ignorance.
"And what of Theseus who cursed his son in his own father's name? Was it declared null and void because he cursed in ignorance or did the curses of exile and death fall to Hippolytus? They both fell to him, and in a single day! A curse, after all, is nothing different from a prayer, for who can grant a curse besides a god? Who can respond to a prayer more powerfully than a god? And what is it you wished upon your sons other than a curse? Consider this as you pray anew for your sons!
"I pray that all our sons may grow to be as Oeneus: pious, generous, kind, and that the image of Meleager may die as he is dead. So let it be."
