Thyestes' Question
With Thyestes' question, every eye in the crowd locked onto me. No, poured onto me would be more accurate. It was the first time in my life I'd drawn so much attention. Surprisingly, it didn't feel half bad. There was pressure, sure, but at the same time, my gut told me I'd handle this better than expected.
"I'm Peleus, prince of Korea, under the protection of the Mycenaean royal house."
"Korea?"
It was a nation they'd never heard of, so Thyestes looked baffled for a moment. Then someone who seemed to be his adjutant whispered in his ear. Thyestes nodded slightly and replied.
"Ah, the one who saved His Majesty the king and Prince Agamemnon from the cannibal giant in the past. I heard you'd vanished without a trace afterward—why show up now?"
"Just like that night, I've come to save Prince Agamemnon once more."
"Hahaha! The prince is a traitor guilty of high treason. Why would you risk everything to aid such a wicked soul and invite the world's scorn?"
Jeers erupted from the crowd at his words. The citizens kicked up a fuss, treating me like a criminal too. Thyestes spread his arms wide, basking in their support.
"Agamemnon's crimes are clear as day—his fate is like a house with its main beam collapsed. Try to hold it up with your bare hands like a fool, and you'll be crushed. Be wise and mind yourself."
It was a warning: step out of line, and you'd die with him.
"Your gracious wisdom humbles me, Regent—Peleus is eternally grateful. But Prince Agamemnon is a man of great ambition, blood of supreme god Zeus himself. Grant me leave to speak in his defense, if just for a moment."
"Hmph! Calling him 'prince' one minute, then your tongue flows smoother than clouds on the wind. Some traveling orator, are you?"
"Clouds that annoy you can just be waved away. What has the Regent to fear?"
Stoking the regent's pride, I figured I needed to hook the onlookers' interest too. If the masses wanted to hear my tale, even the regent couldn't shut it down easily.
"Citizens! Before taking a man's life, I beg you exercise your noble mercy and hear his defense! This story's plenty entertaining—you won't regret it!"
Folks here loved a good yarn. Myths and legends spread wide for that reason. No TV, no internet, most couldn't even read—so they'd perk up at any tale from a bard.
The promise of fun had them hooked quick. Riding the momentum, I tugged at their sympathy.
"And I say this: hate the sin, not the sinner."
The square murmured.
"Hate the sin, love the sinner..."
"That hits hard."
"Yeah, even if he's gotta die, what's the harm in hearing him out?"
It was a cliché from Earth, but it landed well here. Even the gods watching reacted.
Hermes slaps his knee in admiration. "That's a famous quote! That guy's well-read!"
Not really... It's just plagiarism... But in this world, it's mine first—so if anyone remembers this day, it'll go down as Peleus's wisdom. Heh heh heh. Free win tastes too sweet.
"Fine. Step up and defend your friend."
With the crowd swaying my way, Thyestes relented surprisingly easy. But he had a sting in the tail.
"But if you spout nonsense instead of truth, you'll kneel beside your dear friend—be ready for that!"
The square exploded in chatter. Fail the defense, die with the prince—chaos inevitable. The mood I'd built flipped in an instant, the masses' stupidity and cruelty rearing up.
"Do it!"
"Don't step up if you're not sure!"
Figures it wouldn't be easy.
Goddess Hestia frowns at Thyestes' conduct.
But did Thyestes know he'd pissed off a goddess? And I had no plans to die today. This wasn't about real defense—it was for the exposé. Atalante would move in the chaos.
"Agreed! Peleus accepts the citizens' and regent's will. If I fail to defend the prince here today, I'll accompany him to the underworld! Citizens, if my courage earns your cheers, lend me your voices!"
A death-defying showman appeared, and the spectacle-hungry crowd roared with thunderous applause.
"Woooaaah!"
This was... like gladiators trash-talking before swords, Roman-style. My prepared bombshell was my ultimate combo.
"If the regent permits, I'd like to speak from the dais. That alright?"
Thyestes scowled, jaw tight in clear distaste, but jerked his chin anyway—do what you want. He hadn't expected a frontal assault; he looked offended, itching for a slip-up to pounce.
"Citizens!"
Atop the stage at last, I took a deep breath. Truth was, proper defense for Agamemnon mattered less than landing a fatal blow on Thyestes' image. To do that, steer the tale naturally to his scandals. Can't just blurt, Hey, those two cheated—total scumbags! Stories need buildup, so I'd embellish.
"When do you think a sin deserves forgiveness? Stealing bread for a loved one? Stabbing your parents' killer? Everyone's got their own line."
They murmured, listening for now. But wrap it quick and punchy—I'm no crowd favorite. Their patience would evaporate like morning dew.
"But I'd boldly say no one disputes filial piety to parents. If a poor son's desperate mom needs meds and he swipes a bit, would you stone him? No. You merciful folk might scold but slip him some anyway as he goes."
Most nodded.
"Right on!"
Some even cheered. Who knows if they'd really do it—probably just loved imagining themselves as heroes.
"Honoring and loving parents is natural. Doesn't erase the sin, but earns our sympathy aplenty."
With the groundwork laid, I pointed at the bound Prince Agamemnon.
"Now behold that pitiful prince. Loveless from his mother since childhood, yet kneeling here for her sake!"
The square buzzed instantly. Perfect hook—crime with a hidden sob story.
"Spill it!"
Shouts rang out. Regent Thyestes looked baffled; the queen closed her eyes tight. Best reaction? Agamemnon—staring at me like I'd lost it, gag muting his protest, pure bewilderment. Filial what? Yeah, weird, but just roll with the show. Rebel yoke's heavy anyway—might as well pretty it up.
"Why plot treason? To save his beloved mother, Queen Aerope."
The crowd erupted. Thyestes wanted to shut it down but couldn't— he'd greenlit it, and cutting now meant riots.
"King Atreus has fallen, kingdom in crisis. Lost a strong leader. Power shifts to the regent here. But what if he hides filthy secrets?"
All eyes snapped to Thyestes. He exploded.
"Lies! You cursed wretch—how dare you slander me!"
"If lies, no reason not to hear me out! But I know the regent's adulterous affair with Queen Aerope."
"What?"
Thyestes' eyes bulged. Never dreamed I'd drop that. Citizens lost it most.
"What nonsense! How could Her Majesty?!"
"That foreign prince is lying!"
"Insolent cur—drag him out!"
Dionysus forgets his wine, hanging on every word. Get on with it!
Hermes clicks his tongue, as if he knew it'd blow up.
Unfazed by the uproar, I pressed on.
"I don't think Her Majesty truly loved that vile regent. No choice, right? With husband King Atreus down, she had to shield her sons! Obvious a power-hungry regent would target the rightful heirs!"
Thyestes finally snapped, face twisted in rage, beyond caring about decorum.
"Drag that mad dog out! Jail him! No—slit his throat like a pig right here!"
Royal guards surged to grab me.
"Leave him be!"
"Let him speak!"
Citizens backed me, but guards obeyed the regent. Fight brewing—but I had my ace. One even the regent couldn't touch.
"Stop."
A clear, pure voice pierced the chaos, reaching every ear. Not loud, yet it cut through the shouting. Someone whispered in awe.
"It's Hestia's priestesses..."
The priestesses who'd sat watching now stepped up. Even tyrant King Atreus hadn't dared cross them. They lined up, blocking me; guards halted dead.
"Step aside, priestesses."
"We said stop."
Tussle erupted nearby. Guards panicked at blocking Hestia's priestesses, but the regent raged behind them. True dilemma.
Then one guard slipped—couldn't touch a pure priestess, so he yanked her robe.
"Kyaa!"
She stumbled with a shrill cry; citizens' fury ignited.
"You mad bastard—what'd you do to the priestess?!"
"Heaven's curse on you!"
The guard paled, realizing his blunder. Outrage boiled uncontrollably.
Perfect for me.
"Citizens! Even if the queen yielded to her brother-in-law for resolve, how's her son feel watching? Prince Agamemnon's been loyal to the kingdom. Treason? Why go that far?"
Curses and shouts flew at the regent. Already suspect after the priestess fiasco, my words poured oil on the fire.
"That lecherous scum!"
"Steal your brother's wife? Regent my ass!"
"I'll pluck every beard hair off that whelp!"
Masses turn scary fast. Thyestes' ship had smooth sailing; now storm-tossed, he bellowed orders, but guards still hesitated against Hestia's priestesses.
"He had no choice—save father's kingdom, mother's honor! If not filial piety, what is? Citizens! I ask you today: was a prince's love for his parents a sin worth his life?"
My question unleashed pandemonium—a battlefield unto itself. Amid the riot I'd sparked, I felt deep thrill from my core. Hobby-level fun.
And then, the knockout punch arrived: Queen Aerope.
She rose abruptly, stepping forward; silence fell. Only Thyestes' voice echoed.
"Your Majesty! Hasten to refute this vile slander!"
But she ignored him, advancing to the citizens. I wondered her choice: back the regent, paint me liar? Play along my spin? Spill unvarnished truth? Options aplenty.
I waited for her lips to part.