The longest day under the Troyan walls

The death of Lycaon

Instead, Ephialtes was just in the hottest point of the fight: the shores of the Scamander.

"Trojans made a big mistake crowding together on the river, but it's true that, if also they had got to pass it, this would have changed very little. Nothing could stop Achilles that day and a watercourse the less.

The work of us soldiers a little more than being the beaters in hunting. We attacked the Trojans who, panicked, usually ran away without even truing a defence. So, they ended in the arms of Achilles, who butchered them like sheep."

"People say that, then, in the Scamander there was more blood than water and the bodies of the Trojans obstructed its course."

"This is an exaggeration, but actually it was not a nice seeing. In a given moment, someone, perhaps Achilles himself, told me: - Bound together those boys and escort them till our camp – and I executed the order. By then, I was pleased by the command. I was not a coward, but not even I disliked being, for some time, a little away from the battlefield.

Today, the walking with the Trojan captives is perhaps the most painful memory of the war. I joked with the boys, to keep them in a good mood, and told them that being a war prisoner is no so awful, for a lad. You only must polish the shields or cut the vegetables for the soup, till your family gets the bronze for the ransom or the priests organise an exchange. I was not deceiving them. I could not imagine that Achilles spared them, momentarily, only to can sacrifice them later, according the due rules, upon the Patroclus' grave."

"It's told that, on the river too, Achilles had killed one of the Priam's son, notwithstanding he had surrendered and grasped his legs, asking for pity."

"I can't swear that really happened in this way, because, as I told, I left the battlefield; but many referred so. If it's true, I don't approve but not even damn Achilles. The losing of a comrade, not a soldier who casually was beside you but a friend who shared victories and defeats with you, is a pain alike the death of the loved woman. And, for the people of the Achilles' kind, the pain is like a fire in the flesh, which you can put out only pouring the enemy's blood upon it."

The Craeton's opinion about the fact is very quicker.

"I didn't see the death of that certain Lycaon, but, being there, I should have willingly cast a nice lance in the back of such a chicken, and spared to Achilles to have his sword dirtied by a poltroon's blood. I too, in such a situation, would have grasped my enemy's legs, but to make him fall, before cutting his head. The law of war is to kill and to be killed. If you dislike it, don't be a warrior."

Dardanian Ichetaon, of course, has a different vision of the event.

"I was among the happy few who crossed the river, before the arrival of that crazy butcher. I assisted to the poor Lycaon's death, by the other side of the river, too far to hear his saying, bur near enough to see him casting his arms and prostrating himself in front of Achilles. The hero could easily take him prisoner, as once already happened, but he preferred to act the bully and to mock him too, before cutting his throat.

There was a time when we Trojans hoped the gods themselves tired of such a slaughter and ready to free us by Achilles. It was when he plunged into the middle of the river and risked the drowning. We saw his helmet covered by water and began to nudge one another. You see, we thought, that, after having sent so much of ours to Hades, now his turn arrived, and he will not even get the satisfaction of a heroic death. But later we saw a hand coming out the water, and grasping the radix of an elm on our riverside, and we understood. The gods were not by our side and nothing could stop Achilles, not our army, not the river, not even (and thinking it our heart collapsed) Hector. But Scamander conceded us a little gift. It drawn Achilles far enough because we the soldiers, while he emerged by water, take breath again and polished his armour by mud, could retreat to the city walls."

A little before Achilles, another warrior, the Trojan Ephesius, got to pass the river.

"If I could save my skin on the Scamander, it was because I didn't want to be choosy. Other people could do what I have done: to lighter himself as possible, to plunge in water, to give stroke by his whole strength, not stopping before feeling dry earth under your hands. But the first had shame to cast his arms without having fought, the second was disgusted at entering in the river full of blood and smelling by corpses, the third thought the better to be killed by Achilles than by water, and all of three died before noon. I cast helmet, sword and shield, and if any Greek hold them as war prey, the best for him. I swan in blood, bathing armour and dresses, and entering in nose, eyes and ears. I leaned upon any floating thing, not caring its being a trunk or a body. To the end, I got the opposite shore, where other Trojans were, waiting to see, before to retreat, if Achilles would have crossed the river. I had not such curiosities, and at once, again quicker because lightened by a half paraphernalia, I began running towards Troy."