Chapter Text
Odysseus POV
It took a few days for all the ships to unload, despite having thousands of men on hand it seemed very few had any sense to bring builders, thus it ended up with his men being spread about, working as managers, commanding others on how to build. The first thing they set to work on was a surrounding fort, three walls made of stone and wood, towering around them, creating a sheltered dock for their ships.
After a prayer to Percy they diverted some of the passing river-which ran all around the fort- to go through the camp, providing them with a safe water supply, very quickly it was used to start a farm, the livestock they had brought with them fenced in, the river running through the back of the pens. Thankfully no one argued to set up the tents far away from the animals, placing the training grounds in the middle of the camp.
The final building that was erected was a large keep, or at least that’s what Percy called it. It was built in the dead center of the fort with a veiw all the way to the Trojan walls. The majority of the keep was used to store weapons and other materials and armour. However the top floor was dedicated to planning, a circular table took up the majority of the room, a map of Troy and the surrounding area taking it up, small flags of each state and a large pole also stored in there. The keep within itself was imposing, it looked like a column for a temple towering into the sky, despite the building already being finished a few men could still be seen crawling around it, etching in stories and worship to Percy, Poseidon and Athena, the only gods so far to pledge their powers to the Greeks. Odysseus watched as Spartans wilted as they walked past the keep, their own god pledging his strength to Aphrodite. It had been six months since war had been declared, sixth months to build what should’ve taken six years, six months of quiet.
He was looking out at the walls when it happened, out of Troy marched an army large enough to swallow Ithaca whole. He rubbed his eyes, not believing the size of the army army marching towards them. When they didn’t go away he shaked desperately on the rope next to him, causing bells all over the fort-town to ring, men ran quickly to raise the drawbridge across the river, running quickly Odysseus flew down the stairs, heading straight for his tent to put his armour on. Slipping his helmet on as Polites put his chestplate on, tightening the straps. Once he deemed it satisfactory Odysseus marched to on of the watchtower, built peroidicaly along the wall, climbing up he stood beside Diomedes.
“Will the troops be ready?” He asked, sparing a glance at Odysseus.
“We will have enough to hold them while the rest get ready, but don’t forget we have on more line of defence.” Odysseus looked out at where the Trojan warriors moved to prepare to cross the river.
“Ah, I guess we can finally see how powerful our allies our.” Diomides grinned, turning to the troops on the ground. “Men! Grab the archers, as many as you can muster! We are to cripple the enemy before they break though the gates! Who knows? Maybe they’ll give up after we crush them here?”
The soldiers gave a yell, the ones yet to join the Phalanx turning around to get hold of their archers, Odysseus couldn’t help but watch with a little bit of pride as his men, especially Eurylochus were guiding others into the correct position, drawing weapons of their own.
“Form a Phalanx on each side of the gates!” He yelled. “If they are to get through we are to box them in and crush them! We may have the numbers but the smaller the opening the less of them can fight!” Diomedes nodded approvingly as the men moved to comply, a line of archers so dense he was sure they’d blot out the sun, three phalanx were formed as well, two either side of the gate that wouldn’t be seen until it was too late.
As archers climbed the watchtowers to get a better vandatge point the Trojans stopped, a very familiar, annoying man moving along the front. “My men! The aurgurs have spoken! The Omens are on our side! Today we crush the greek scum! Today you cement my city as the greatest in the Agean!” He pulled on his horses reigns, leveling a sword at the gates. “Charge!”
With what could only be described as a primal yell the men charged forwards, even as the archers let loose, cutting through their ranks. They seemed unfazed by their comrades falling around them, some of them seemed to be foaming at the mouth. “They’re mad,” Diomedes whispered. “It’s like all they want to do is to destory.”
As Odysseus looked closer he could see something around them. “The blessings of Ares and Aphrodite,” he gestured to the blood red and rose pink hue eminating slighty around the army. “Given how they’re behaving it’s like they’re in a trance.”
Just then the first of the men hit the river, for a second Odyessus felt his heart stop as they continued, pushing through the water, then it happened. The calm river went white with froth, the sudden strength of the current pulling the men under, line after line of men disappeared under the froath, turning it red with their blood. A roar filled his ears, turning, Odyseeus saw a wave, charging down the river like a stampede of horses, the wave bulged as it hit its banks, swelling as it surged forth, knocking the rest of the army off their feet. Slowly the men got up, looking around. It was like they had just woken up in the slaughter, screaming in terror the Trojans turned, some dropping their weapons, as they ran back to the saftey of their walls.
“What are you doing?!” Priam roared. “The enemy is infront of you! Do you not wish for glory!” However Odysseus watched as his attempt of rallying fell on deaf ears. Seeing it was hopeless Priam turned his horse and followed his men back to Troy with a desprate speed. Just as soon as the fighting had started it was over, not a single loss had been taken while the Trojans force of almost twenty thousand had been halved in a matter of minutes.
Odysseus, Diomedes and Meneluas set out to survey the killing field. Odysseus couldn’t call it anything else, these men didn’t die with honour, they were sent into a slaughter, fueled by godly blessings that coulded their vision, ensured their deaths. With a wave of his hand their own soilders came out, collecting the bodies. “They deserve burial rites, these men didn’t get a say in their deaths.” He glanced at Menelaus. “This is a blow for the Trojans, I believe we will not have to fear an attack from them for some time.”
“Hello there.” A voice said from across the field, a man holding a flag with the symbol of Erine. “I come under the banner Erine, goddess of Peace.”
Odysseus, Diomedes and Menelaus dipped their heads in acknowledgment. “Who may you be sir?”
“I am Hector, heir to the Trojan throne. I have come to discuss the return of our men.” The prince gave a bow. “Their families deserve as much.”
“Prince Hector” Menleaus stepped foreward. “If we are to do this I expect the same courtesy from your own people, despite our many similarities in beliefs it is clear that that our men deserve to be sent off with their traditions and beliefs.”
The prince smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, I swear on the river Styx to see the return of every fallen greek to your camp, as well as for your men not to be attacked during the return of any of our own men.”
“I swear on Lady Percy that we will return all the fallen of Troy we can recover to you, and will not harm your men as they return our fallen to us.” Menelaus retuned, the men shook hands, clearly happy to reach an agreement.
Odysseus watched, detached as pile after pile of bodies were put onto carts, Menlaus and Hector leading each shipment. By the time he was sat down with his men around their fire did the shock truly hit him, he could not bear to lose a single one of his men, the families of Ithaca would remain whole, no matter how divided. “Percy, I swear on you now that my men will survive this war, they will go back home to see their Penelopes.”