The End of the Kings
I returned to the camp at a leisurely pace. By the time I reached the edge of the forest, the outside was already in an uproar. Cheers and the pounding of drums rang out noisily—it was clear enough what was happening.
"Shall we go see?"
Outside the forest, King Idomeneus of Crete was marching like a triumphant general. He paraded the white stag through the camp amid his subordinates' fervent cheers. To anyone watching, the hunt looked like a total victory for him.
"You're back?"
Looking around, my companions were there too. Odysseus, Agamemnon, and Atalante had brought back a massive wild boar—a fine catch, but nothing compared to the white stag. Atalante, the hunter among them, had her shoulders slumped.
"Sorry. I never imagined he'd actually catch a divine beast. What a disgrace."
"Atalante, don't say that. We won this hunt."
"What? I appreciate the consolation, but..."
From Atalante's perspective, it must've sounded nonsensical. But shrewd Odysseus seemed to sense something. Glancing at the victory-drunk Idomeneus, he muttered,
"He boldly captured Iris's divine beast, inviting the gods' wrath. If we sit tight, we might witness calamity crashing down on his head. Or did you have some arrangement for this?"
Maybe because I was too calm despite our obvious loss, Odysseus was slyly probing me.
"Just watch the show."
At my relaxed expression, quick-on-the-uptake Odysseus flashed a wicked grin.
"This guy's got something solid up his sleeve. Fine by me, heh heh heh. I, Odysseus, never miss a good play. What's the genre of today's performance?"
"Comedy and tragedy."
"Hahaha, now that's worth looking forward to. Tears and laughter together—that's what truly moves the heart."
Odysseus clasped his hands behind his back with feigned anticipation, chuckling as he headed to his tent. What a twisted soul. He seemed downright thrilled knowing someone was doomed today.
"What the hell are they talking about?"
Atalante alone still tilted her head in confusion. Her airheaded charm was kinda cute, but I kept that to myself.
"Atalante."
"Yeah?"
"Stick close to me from now on. Otherwise, you'll get conned left and right."
"What? You calling me stupid?!"
As Atalante glared daggers, Idomeneus's procession drew near. Drunk on his triumph, he bellowed at me,
"Hey, little brother! Results show true skill. Not bad, but go suckle some more milk first. Kahahahaha!"
Laughter exploded around us. I gave a slow clap for the fate awaiting him.
"Brother, after today, your name will blanket the seas."
"Switching from barbs to flattery? Finally grasping the skill gap, eh? I'm no petty man. Keep up that wise attitude."
He spent the rest of the time strutting around, milking his victory for all it was worth.
As evening fell and the hunt ended, King Tyndareus threw a grand feast. Suitors crowded into the king's massive tent. No verdict yet, but no one disputed Idomeneus's win. Cocky as ever, he yammered nonstop while the other heroes drowned their bitterness in drink.
"A truly splendid feat."
Tyndareus lavished praise on him. The white stag stood tied to a post like a trophy near the king, who stared entranced.
"I swear by the gods, no king has ever claimed such prey."
Idomeneus preened shamelessly, and no one dared contradict—after all, he'd snagged a divine beast. But silent Odysseus lifted a corner of his mouth and asked,
"We acknowledge your fine catch, sire. But that's Iris's beast. Not afraid of the goddess's wrath?"
"Jealous of my achievement?"
"Perish the thought. Just concerned for Crete's king."
"Kahaha, no need. The beast followed me of its own accord. As if Iris herself sent it. Though someone else might've pissed off the gods today."
He shot me a venomous smirk. His transparent scheming just struck me as pathetic and amusing. Time to let him savor the joy a bit longer. I'd raise the curtain soon enough.
Clap!
One sharp clap, and the effect was immediate. Everyone fell silent, eyes on me.
Tyndareus spoke first. "Peleus. Do you have something to say?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. If you'll permit, I've an amusing fact to share."
"Very well. Speak."
With the king's nod, I scanned the room. "I have two tales. No playwright's script surpasses them—listen closely, and you'll have no regrets."
Their attention hooked me with delight.
"The first begins last night: a thief snuck into my tent."
"A thief?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The revelation lit a fire. Even Tyndareus looked grave.
"When the moon hid behind clouds, a rat slipped in and stole one thing: my arrow."
Meriones, my nocturnal visitor, twitched visibly.
"Simple motive: drag me into a filthy plot."
Hot-headed Idomeneus finally snapped. "Dangerous words. They could tarnish every hero here. Can you back them up?"
"Of course. I'd stake my life on their truth."
"Mind that well."
Idomeneus held back—probably figured overreacting would look suspicious—grinding his teeth, his anxious eyes only amusing me more.
"The plot? Simple. Use my arrow to shoot Iris's divine beast. Wrath falls on this Peleus."
Murmurs rippled. Tyndareus pressed, "Who hatched this vile scheme? If true, as Sparta's king, I'll see justice."
"Generous and just king, my deepest thanks. But the villains number two."
"Hm?"
"Hear of the second: a king coveting the forbidden. Spotted Iris's stag, lusted after it. Feared divine fury, so schemed scapegoats. Lured 'victims' into the woods under hunt pretense. Pure evil, no?"
Chaos erupted. Even the dim understood. Tyndareus's face flushed crimson with rage.
"Outrageous slander!"
"Hear the rest, Your Majesty. He slyly hinted at a grand beast deep in the woods—without mentioning divine. Masterfully played rival heroes' greed. With fools' unwitting aid, claimed his prize: the white stag."
"I won't hear more from this wretch!"
Tyndareus shot up, white beard quivering. Odysseus cut in mischievously. "Your Majesty, the man's spouting lies. Let's see how far he goes. His head's as good as rolling, but it's entertaining. Or... could it be true? Hahaha!"
Bolstered, I appealed to the heroes. "This Peleus slanders no innocent. But if my tongue lies, I won't last the night. Watch me prove it. When I'm speechless, draw steel—won't be too late."
Great Ajax nodded. "Fair. Hear him out fully. But if it's a frame job, Ajax forgives nothing."
Others chimed in. "Same here."
"Busy tongue tonight."
They seemed entertained by the unfolding drama—and Idomeneus's twitchy overreaction smelled fishy to them. Heroes in name, foxes at heart.
"My thanks. I'll prove with solid witness. First, the stolen goods, recovered."
I drew the broken arrow. Explained the woods: shot missed, tip grazed stag, drawing blood.
Eyes snapped to the stag. Jaws dropped.
"Hah...!"
A gasp escaped. The stag's shoulder bore a fresh, deliberate gash. Dismissed as hunt scar before, now it fit perfectly. I stifled a laugh inside—Iris, in stag form, blatantly flaunted the wound.
"Frame job!"
Idomeneus drew sword, leaping up like a raging Minotaur, snorting fury.
I shrugged. "Brother dear, why so worked up? No one's framing you. Like the heroes, lend an ear to your little brother."
"As if we don't see your cheap tricks! Petty and filthy."
Absurd. I snorted. "What? Filthy? You moron, clean your own nails before pointing fingers. You're viler than a city sewer—think a speck on my life compares?"
Stunned, then he erupted. "You bastard! True colors at last!"
He hurled a wine jug. I casually ducked.
Crash! The shatter rang sweetly. I shouted to the heroes,
"This proves nothing yet. Now, a credible witness. You'll have no choice but to believe."
"Who?" Tyndareus demanded, sour-faced. He seemed personally offended too.
"Call a fool, and you'll share my miserable end tonight. Last defense, Peleus. My patience ends here."
Idomeneus throwing pottery seemed preferable—the king upheld dignity, granting me time. Idomeneus, sword out, was blocked by nearby Great Ajax.
"Outta my way, Ajax!"
"Heh heh heh, got reason not to hear more?"
Ajax clearly despised him. Unexpected powerhouse ally. Ajax's fame alone cowed Idomeneus's entire faction. Solo legend—even in Earth's Greek and Roman Myths, he stalemated famed Hector. No different here; they wouldn't dare.
"Damn you!"
"Crude talk for a king."
As Idomeneus fumed behind Ajax, I addressed the rest. "Greet my witness with utmost courtesy and reverence. Nobler than anyone here."
Someone tilted their head. "Kings aplenty here. Who nobler?"
"No choice. The one I serve: rainbow god Iris."
Jaws hit the floor. Even raging Idomeneus froze.
"A god?"
Before mockery, a prismatic rainbow draped the tent. All froze in shock. Only Odysseus bolted up, approaching the stag.
Damn, his instincts were unreal.
"Grant this lowly servant the honor of serving Your Greatness."
Bowing to the stag, Odysseus untied the post. With regal steps, it glided to the feast's center.
All stared blankly. Clop clop.
The stag spoke.
"I ask thee: who is the fairest in all the world?"