Book Nine

In the Greek camp, Agamemnon (a-guh-MEM-non) addresses the men who have pledged themselves to his cause and his leadership. "I once believed that Zeus (zyoos) had guaranteed me the downfall of Troy, but now I see that I was mistaken. There's nothing for it now but to retreat. Tomorrow we sail for home!" It is left to Diomedes (dy-uh-MEE-deez) to rebut this craven speech. The great hero tells his commander to sail home if he must, but the rest of the army will stand fast until Troy has fallen. Or if he cannot speak for the other Greeks, who perhaps might wish to follow Agamemnon's example, then he and his charioteer Sthenelus (STHEN-uh-lus) will solider on alone.

Now Nestor takes the speaker's staff and urges calm. He orders sentries to take up positions between the wall and the trench, and he suggests that Agamemnon prepare a lavish feast for his captains. Food and wine come first for fighting men, after which calm heads can counsel the best advice. It is Nestor himself who comes up with a plan after the banquet. Agamemnon must make peace with Achilles. The Greek leader readily assents, admitting that it was madness that compelled him to alienate his best fighter. Now he is prepared to offer Achilles an impressive ransom to win back his support: seven tripods, ten bars of gold, twenty cauldrons, a dozen stallions, seven serving women, and the return of Achilles' captive Briseis (bry-SEE-us) with a solemn oath that he has never slept with her. What's more, Agamemnon offers the pick of the spoils once Troy has fallen and the hand of one of his own daughters in marriage, together with seven citadels and all their lands and flocks. "All this will be his," says Agamemnon, "if he will cease his prideful fury and submit to me. Just let him acknowledge that I am the senior king."

An embassy is dispatched to convey this offer to Achilles, comprised of Odysseus (oh-DISS-yoos), Ajax (AY-jax), two heralds, and Phoenix (FEE-nicks), Achilles' childhood mentor. This group finds Achilles in his tent strumming his lyre in the company of his best friend Patroclus (pa-TRAH-klus). Achilles is delighted to see his good friends and immediately prepares an enormous banquet which his guests, having just come from another feast, readily consume. Then once they have dispensed with their desire for food and drink, Odysseus addresses his host. He doesn't have to explain what it means that the Trojans are now fighting with Zeus's lightning on their right — a clear sign of Zeus's favor. It is only a matter of time before Hector sets the Greek ships aflame. Complete disaster is at hand unless Achilles relents and rejoins his comrades-in-arms. Odysseus then enumerates the gifts that Agamemnon offers for his friendship.

Odysseus omits the part about Achilles submitting to Agamemnon as the superior king. Otherwise the words are Agamemnon's exactly, and therefore there is no mention of an apology. Achilles reacts with indignation. "What's the point in being eager to fight when Agamemnon, malingering in the rear, gets all the booty? Why are we here in Troy at all except for the love of Helen? I loved Briseis every bit as much and he snatched her from me. Agamemnon is doing fine without me — look at the splendid fort he's made. Not that he needed such a thing when I was fighting and kept Hector penned up in Troy. Not that his precious rampart will do him any good in the face of Hector's fury. That's it for me — I'm leaving in the morning and taking my ships and soldiers with me. Has that man no shame? He cheated me, destroyed my honor. What do I care for his pathetic gifts? I wouldn't forgive him for all the wealth in Egypt. Marry his daughter? My father can find me my choice of brides. Tripods, stallions? Mine for the raiding. My mother, with a sea nymph's gift of prophecy has foretold two ends for me: stay here and die and my glory lasts forever, or go home and my glory is gone but I die an old man. And I've got a prophecy of my own for you. Hatch what plan he may, Agamemnon will never vanquish Troy."

Stunned silence greets these words. Finally Phoenix finds his voice. "Would you really sail home and leave your old tutor behind? Your father Peleus (PEEL-yoos) entrusted you to my keeping when you left home. I was a second son to him, having left my own father in a blood feud. He'd forsaken my mother for a younger concubine, and she'd implored me to wrest her from him by showing her a young man's love. I obeyed and my father invoked the Furies to punish me by denying me a son of my own. I'd thought to kill my father but could not bear to be called a patricide. So I fled that place and came to Peleus and he gave me a share of his kingdom. He made me your tutor and your guide. And when you had come of age to venture forth he put you in my keeping. So listen to me now. Quench this unrelenting fury, be flexible — even gods can change. What are Prayers but the daughters of Zeus? Squint-eyed and careworn they go limping after Ruin — sent by humankind to heal the wounds left in the wake of their swift and deadly quarry. Honor Prayers, Achilles, or they'll urge Zeus to let Ruin run its course. It's not like Agamemnon is offering no recompense. Don't spurn his gifts, Achilles.

"Remember what happened to Meleager (me-le-AY-ger). This king of Calydon (KA-li-don) had infuriated Artemis (AR-teh-mis), goddess of the hunt, by neglecting to honor her with sacrifice. In return she had sent a monstrous boar to ravage the land. Meleager killed the beast in the famous Calydonian hunt, but in an argument over the spoils he killed his own uncle as well, for which his mother could not forgive him. She called out the Furies, who caused Meleager's enemies to besiege his citadel. The kingdom's elders and priests implored Meleager to repel the attack, but he was too angry at his mother to fight. He turned down their offer of vast riches. But then when the enemy had beaten down the gates, his wife prevailed upon him to fight and he saved the day. He did so without material reward, however, since it was too late to qualify for the offered wealth. Don't let this fate befall you, Achilles. If you are going to fight Hector sooner or later anyway, do so now with honor and reward." Such is Phoenix's advice.

"Honor like that," responds Achilles, "is no honor at all." He warns Phoenix to stop representing Agamemnon's cause and encourages him to spend the night and leave for home together in the morning. Seeing the inevitable, Odysseus and Ajax take their perfunctory leave, playing one last time on the themes of friendship and pity. Achilles won't waver even for these comrades-in-arms. "Agamemon shamed me in front of all the men. I won't relent until Hector smashes in here and sets my own ships aflame."

The envoys return to the tent of Agamemnon and make their report. Achilles' words, even secondhand, produce the same stunned silence. Finally Diomedes speaks up defiantly. Agamemnon never should have offered presents. Prideful before, Achilles is even more full of himself now. He'll fight when he's ready to, and only then. Forget Achilles. "Let's get some rest and then in the morning marshal your troops, Agamemnon, and lead them out yourself." The Greek captains roar their assent.