“When is he going to get here?” one of the guests, a merchant named Alexander, asked.

The innkeeper responded “It’s going to be a fantastic show; I promise you it will be well worth the wait.”

“That wasn’t the question I asked.” Alexander said.

Phillip, who was Alexander’s business partner and traveling companion, said to the innkeeper “Is he really as good as you say?”

“Look, I haven’t personally seen him perform.” the innkeeper admitted “I’ve never even met the man; this was all arranged through an intermediary. But I assure you, he’s good!”

“How do you know he’s any good if you haven’t seen him perform?” Alexander asked.

The innkeeper had no answers to these pressing questions, all he could say was “Please, just try to be patient! He’ll be here soon and you can see for yourselves.” And as he walked away, the innkeeper added in a low enough voice that the guests could not hear “I hope.”

“I heard he was the best in the country.” said another one of the guests, a blacksmith named Stephen. Stephen had come to the inn from one of the nearby towns specifically to see this singer perform. He was accompanied by his wife, Penelope, who appeared to be the only woman present.

“Where did you hear that?” Phillip asked.

“It’s just something I’ve heard from other people. I can’t tell you exactly where.” Stephen replied.

Another guest, a farmer named Nicholas, said “I suspect he’s greatly overrated.”

“What makes you say that?” Stephen said.

“My father’s uncle was also a singer. He left this world when I was 10 years old and I haven’t heard a singer as good as him since.” Nicholas said “I grew up listening to his poems about the war. His father actually fought in the war and told him about everything he had witnessed in those long-ago days. And thus, the stories were passed onto me.”

“You say the father of your father’s uncle fought in the war?” Phillip said.

“That’s right.”

Alexander said “So that means your great-grandfather fought in the war?”

“And he was a great hero too.” Nicholas said.

Phillip said “But the war was over 400 years ago! How could that be possible?”

“I heard these stories when I was a boy.” Nicholas replied “Maybe it was the father of his father; I don’t remember exactly.”

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“So the father of the father of your uncle’s father fought in the war?” Phillip said “But that still wouldn’t make sense! It happened too long ago!”

“I said it was my father’s uncle not my uncle’s father!”

“That doesn’t make a difference, it was 400 years ago!” Alexander said.

“I don’t think it was that long ago.” Nicholas said, turning to Stephen and his wife “Was it really that long ago?”

“I don’t have any idea if it was that long ago.” Penelope said “Do you know Stephen?”

“I’ve heard rumours that the singer we’re expecting was an eyewitness to the war.” Stephen said.

“How old is he?” Nicholas asked.

“It doesn’t matter how old he is if the war was 400 years ago.” Phillip said.

Alexander reentered the conversation “Is he going to sing about the war? The man who’s coming here tonight?”

Penelope said to her husband “You told me he specialized in love poetry? You said the performance tonight was about a man longing to be reunited with his wife after a long separation?”

Nicholas turned to Stephen and asked “Is that how you convinced her to come? You said that he was a love poet?”

“He does poems about the war and he does poems about that too.” Stephen replied “I’ve heard that he does lots of different kinds of songs. I even heard he does a hilarious one about…what was it…mice and snakes fighting each other? Maybe it was mice and frogs.”

“Mice and frogs fighting each other?” Phillip said.

“Yeah, it’s a comedy poem.” Stephen responded.

Phillip went on “You’re probably thinking of a different poet.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the same person.” Stephen said.

The innkeeper, who was listening in nervous silence to his guests’ conversation, was becoming sceptical that this supposed poet singer existed at all. The intermediary he met was probably a fraudster! Oh how he regretted paying in advance! But his thoughts were interrupted when Alexander shouted to him:

“Is this man going to sing about the war?”

The innkeeper walked back over to the campfire and said “Yes, I paid for several performances over a few days on the subject of the war. The man who arranged this with me said his employer has not performed publically in many years. He’s been trying to perfect his poetry and we will be the first blessed audience to hear this ‘perfected’ version.”

“Very interesting. And when exactly is he arriving?” Alexander asked.

“I don’t know.” the innkeeper responded “I’m not an oracle! I can’t see the future!”

Stephen pointed at a dim light coming down the road “Could that be him?”

All eyes turned to see the figure who was approaching. It was so faint at first, all they could see was the distant light of his lantern. As he got closer they realized it was not one person but two. The person holding the lantern was a young man and with his other hand he was guiding a much older gentleman with a walking staff. The older man, who was presumably the expected poet singer, was blind. The innkeeper ran over to greet the new arrivals, saying “Are you…?”

He was cut off by the singer’s guide “Our apologies for being so late. I hope the performance tonight will more than make up for it.”

The innkeeper did not know what to say and so he said nothing at all. With the help of his young assistant, the poet positioned himself in front of the campfire in full view of the audience. Despite his obvious physical limitations, the poet had an air of majesty about him. His flowing white beard made them almost believe he really could sing from memory about events from 400 years ago. But the members of the audience were still sceptical. Could he really be as good as the rumours say? Perhaps he was in his youth, but after years without practice he might have lost his skill. But every doubt in the mind of the audience was silenced, at the moment he opened his mouth:

“Sing, O Goddess, of the wrath of Peleus’ son Achilles! Whose great rage brought pains a thousandfold upon the Achaeans!”