It had been hours since the cease-fire had ended and the siege of Troy was back on for the Greeks, it now seemed like the siege shaped to be a full-on conquest of the city of Troy which Diomedes much preferred. Ten years, ten years of skirmishes and Diomedes knew the end approached for the city of Troy, he told his men that in just a few more months they will have conquered Troy and soon they will be able to meet their families again once it is all over.
The fields of Troy, now once barren fields of plain grass were a battlefield, a proper one this time. No more private assassinations, no more small-scale skirmishes with a dozen or so men, this was war and it had arrived.
Armed with his father’s sword, along with his own spear and shield, Diomedes was a whirlwind of death. The King of Argos carved and cleaved through any Trojan soldier he came upon, his strength and speed were unmatched, for he could fight against ten trojan soldiers at once. But Diomedes was no brute, for he saw the overwhelming number of Trojan soldiers that were ready for an assault like this and planned accordingly. Before the battle had started, Diomedes ordered his army of over 4000 men to charge to the sides and help with the other armies while he alone dealt with the main forces on the fields of Troy. Diomedes’s men agreed except for the idea of their king marching alone, they viewed Diomedes lone charge as suicide and offered to have a select few to stay behind and help their great king. They thought no normal man could survive against an army of thousands alone so the ones who stayed behind were some of greatest and most loyal men in Diomedes’s army. Ironic then, that they were right about no normal man being able to survive against a force as massive as Troy’s frontline army.
For Diomedes was the only one left.
Diomedes unsheathed his father’s sword and prepared to strike down and kill his final adversary, a trojan general who bravely thought to attack the king with a chariot. A guile idea, in fact, an idea that may have worked if they were not dealing with the wrath of the King of Argos, the wrath of a man who just lost of all his best men. The chariot driver was dead, and the chariot itself was destroyed by Diomedes. The trojan general was knocked unconscious, the only thing Diomedes had wished for at this moment was that he would have the dignity to be awake for his death.
Suddenly, a woman, her face and body being the height of beauty appeared in front of the Trojan general. Even after hours of fighting the King of Argos could recognize her enchanting appearance. Her soft and smoothly defined skin, her beautifully natural hair, and her lust-inducing body. It was Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. Why was she here, and how could Diomedes see her? For all his life he was told that the gods were not visible by mortal man. What was going on?
“Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and sexual love, what brings you to the fields of Troy? The battlefield has no need for beauty and lust that you command. Be off from this battle and leave war alone.”
“Lower your blade, King of Argos. Your battle lies beyond this one soldier for you will do no harm to him.” Aphrodite said. “Look around you, you have carved through many men, why are you now invested in the death of just this one?”
Diomedes stopped, lowered his sword at Aphrodite and instead, looked around for the first time since the fighting had started. It was here that Diomedes could see the battlefield.
The fields of Troy, its dirt replaced by corpses, its sky inhaled blood and blew its winds out to the survivors. What had the Gods fought for to warrant all of this. What great conflict up above justified this much massacre, this much bloodshed. Diomedes will never know, for he is mortal. Despite his great strength, his unparalleled tactical intellect, and his unyielding will, he is still nothing to the whims of fate engineered by Zeus and his children. No matter how many men he killed, no matter how many cities he conquered, he knew that if the Gods so choose, his entire work can all be undone. Aphrodite was right, what did one more man surviving really matter in the long run?
And yet.
Aphrodite saw the look of conflict on Diomedes and tried to take advantage of his spirit. “Yield this once, King of Argos and I will allow you to continue your bloodshed as my brother, the God of War, Ares, would approve of.”
Diomedes stopped starring at the fields and looked back at the goddess. Hatred gleaned over his eyes.
For Diomedes did not yield.
“Approve of? Aphrodite, child of Zeus do not speak of my name like that and compare me to your blood lusted fool of a brother, Ares!”
“Oh. Diomedes of Argos are you challenging a Go-” Aphrodite could not finish her rhetorical question before Diomedes plunged his sword straight through her stomach. Her face in contorted shock.
“Ision was a captain for my army, earlier this week he told me that once this war was over, he wanted to become a carpenter, a hard but simpler life away from all the violence. He is now dead, three miles to the east. Stratios was a colonel for my army, one of the bravest men I’ve ever known, he would greet any battle with a smile. And yet, a few moons ago, he told me that he could not wait to return to his wife and meet his son for the first time once the siege was over. He is now dead, seven miles to the south, lying next to a rock and surrounded by dead Trojan soldiers.”
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“Tell me this, Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus. Of all these men whose lives have now ended due to my blade, of all these men who were under my command and are now dead because of me why is this one allowed to live? What makes him more fit to live than the rest of these now dead warriors! These soldiers, who were under my command, are now lost to the rivers of death and I can do nothing about it! There is only one thing I can do and that is finish their fight. And you, Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus. You deny me this! Away with you Goddess!”
Suddenly, before Diomedes could raise his spear and finish off the Trojan general, Aphrodite retreated in a flash of light, blinding the King of Argos and leaving the general alone on the battlefield. His sword, which was used to stab the Goddess now laid on the dirt. Inexplicably, looked almost unaffected by blood and wear. Diomedes quickly looked around the fields of Troy and proceeded to retrieve his sword. He planned to find the Trojan general and finally declare the battle over. But before he could, the once bright afternoon sky of Troy started clouding in a storm of red. Diomedes blood boiled in rage caused by the arrival of another God, this time one more appropriate for the occasion than the Goddess of Beauty and Seduction.
The God of War had arrived on the battlefield.
“Who among you mortals has the honor to interfere with our matters?” Ares addressed to the one soldier still left standing in an almost condescending matter. The son of Zeus could see that there everyone else on the battlefield was dead.
“Troy’s frontline army has retreated into the city after losing over 1300 of its men to a fraction of my army. That fraction is also now dead, I am the only one left.”
Ares did not have to ask to look at the fields of Troy, bodies everywhere, the smell of dried blood and carrion, the sounds of flames from destroyed chariots onto burning wood, and the sight of the growing amounts of vultures ready to feast on another battlefield. For any mortal, it would be the sight of horrifying madness, so much dead, so much lost. But for Ares.
It was all too beautiful.
“Such death, such destruction. Diomedes, King of Argos you are a death dealer hiding in mortal skin.”
“Spare me your patronizing, God of War.” Diomedes spat. “Answer me, why has Aphrodite deemed this one man worthy of all this pain and violence? What is the point in all of this fighting if Gods like you and her can interfere directly?”
“That Trojan general is more important than you, general Achilles, and this siege. For he is to be leader and founder of a nation greater than any of you Greeks will recognize.”
“But right now he is a man! A man who has chosen this life, this battle and will pay the price for his actions! He needs to die; my men’s souls demand it.”
Ares looked at the King of Argos curiously, was this mortal threatening him?
“You caught my sister by surprise King of Argos. If you were to challenge me to direct combat, you will die by my hand and your campaign of death will have ended. I do not wish that; in many ways I see you as a reflection of myself. Such destruction, such anger, you carve and split through all these Trojan soldiers with your hate. Do not lie, general, you know this just as much as I that you enjoy the hunt!” Ares was not to be caught off guard, he readied his spear and sword, forgoing any defense. The God of War was infatuated with violence and especially violence that he could create.
Diomedes knew what this was, to do battle with a God. A proper battle. Most Greek soldiers would call it a privilege, but Diomedes knew better. His opponent was not an honorable warrior, not a man who had pledged his life to his country or city, Diomedes was facing a destroyer. A God who found the death and murder of thousands as tribute. Diomedes sheathed his father’s sword and decided to use his own spear and shield. He would not have his father’s blade be used once more to stain the blood of Gods on the fields of Troy.
“I cannot deny that your words are false, God of War. But-” Ares had enough of talking and charged forward with fierce aggression. He raised his sword and tried to carve through the King of Argos, but Diomedes did not relent and guarded using his shield. Ares swung wildly, his strength and energy endless, has this been any normal man, they would have been dead. Unable to match the pure brute strength of the God of War.
But Diomedes was no normal man.
Realizing that defense would not yield victory due to the limitless stamina of a God, Diomedes discreetly removed his shield bindings. Upon removal, Diomedes used his shield to leap off and face Ares from behind. Free to use both of his arms, when the King of Argos landed behind the God of War, Diomedes plunged his spear into Ares’s chest with both of his arms. Ares howled in pain at the deep stab and jumped a few distance back. The God of War could not believe what he had just experienced, a normal human leaping off from his shield and bravely plunging his spear into the God of War and succeeding? Who was this mortal with such valor, such strength, and why had the Gods not heard of him before?
“The difference between you and I, Ares, is that I remember the lives of every man I have killed. For unlike you, I know that not every man heads to war with bloodshed in mind. Many of us have dreams, have families, and have desires beyond the battlefield and I know that by killing them I will have crushed them, like tears in the rain. I do not take pride in my violence, but I do not hide it. If killing this last soldier means besting you in combat, then so be it! But know that this will not be any monster you and your family enjoying killing for sport and even if you were to best me, I know my spirit will haunt you until of the end of this world and when that world ends until the end of time and when time ends until my men will know peace!”
Diomedes regained his stance and charged forward with his father’s sword. Not giving the God of War anytime to breathe. For Diomedes knew who Ares was, Ares was power, he was wrath. But Ares was a fool, he was not experienced in the true art of war. He did not know what fighting an opponent truly was, what fighting and beating an enemy stronger than you was.
Ares was a powerful warrior but a terrible soldier.
Diomedes was both soldier and warrior, and when faced with the God of War in the battlefield, Diomedes knew he would be victorious for no matter how strong Ares was. Diomedes knew one certainty that would enable his victory.