Episode 121. doubt
I squeezed a handful of sand piled up on the shore and touched the salt and quartz crystals in it.
It’s not very fine, and the feet don’t go deep, so it wouldn’t be bad for port construction. I was relieved to think that the preparation for this base would not be so difficult.
Well, even if you don’t walk around like this, there should already be technicians who stick sticks here and there and measure them with your steps.
“Then are you going to drive the stakes from here?”
“Yes, lord. If you do it like you did in the vicinity of Antandros, it will be finished right away.”
“First of all, move the pier slightly to the east side. If you get too close to the lighthouse site, it will be uncomfortable in every way.”
“All right.”
However, since I had been running on my feet since I was a slave, I felt comfortable seeing it with my own eyes.
“older brother! Iphigenia has just returned to Troy!”
And it was the same with Deiphobos, whom I taught myself by dragging it all over Troia and Antandros.
“okay? Are you feeling a little unwell? Ever since I saw you, your complexion has looked a little pale.”
“you’re right. For some reason, it makes me nauseous.”
“… Nausea?”
Maybe already? How long have you been married?
probably not
Deiphobos, as if aware that my mood was a little disturbed, still shouted at me with a high spirited voice.
“Brother, all the workers have been sent back to their places. The sun will set in a little while, are the preparations over there?”
“maybe. But right now, we don’t know.”
I shrugged my head while looking out over the sea for a moment to see the verdant land of Troy.
What doesn’t look good Not to mention people, even the buildings look the size of ants.
“You’ll soon know if it’s ready or not.”
Just in time for the horizon to the west to swallow the sun. In the west, barely reaching the sun, the sea is already dyed a ripe orange.
On the other hand, the eastern side of the sea is already half wet with dark blue purple.
It is the darkening water color, the sea that Homer described as a wine-colored sea.
The sea was even deeper red with the blood of the brave Achaeans and Trojans.
Did Borges say it? When we use the expression ‘the grape-colored sea’, it goes beyond a simple description of the sea. It’s something that reminds me of the history of well over 2,000 years.
I have come here beyond the 2,000 years of history. as if floating
Dig deep into the history that is firmly piled up like strata, and watch the sea off Troia that is still alive and breathing before it becomes a classic phrase.
Seeing the fish in it sow white seeds, eating each other and getting fat while being eaten.
And the water surrounding them is dyed in ‘grape purple’…
The light source in the red, round sky soon folds from a circle to a semicircle. Night was already approaching from the east.
I don’t know if it’s Helios or Apollo, but the god’s golden chariot has now fled to the west of the world.
The sky now belongs to Artemis. Beneath the floating stars like chunks of gold, a single horizon blurs the land and sky.
A starlight rises above it.
It was the lighthouse that Deiphobus and I built in Troia.
“It will start soon! They said it would go on shortly after the sun had set and the lighthouses were lit!”
“You worked hard all day, so go in. The sea breeze must be cold.”
“no. I need to see the facility I built in action.”
Deiphobos, whose legs are soaked with seawater from roaming the nearby shore, is trying hard not to show the cold air. When I get fed up with that figure, Deiphobos changes the topic with an embarrassing face.
“But can I really deliver the words straight away if I do as you said?”
“okay. If the lighthouse keepers get a little better at this, it will be possible for you to deliver a letter to Lady Iphigenia with light.”
Of course, that won’t happen. If you’re going to use that kind of luxury, don’t use a herald.
However, it is difficult to deliver a long love letter, and I, coming from the 21st century, know best how useful this invention will be in the coming war.
Anyway, after chatting about this and that with each other, we soon closed our mouths and looked away when an excited servant pointed south across the sea.
While everything is swallowed up in darkness, a single human-made star flickers in the moonlight.
Short blink, blink, blink.
dark for a while.
And again long, cack, cack, cack.
darkness.
Shortly this time, blink, blink, blink.
That was our starting signal. It was set as the fastest input possible.
Troia’s lighthouse, which roughly informed us of the start of communication, soon begins to perform its full-fledged mission.
Alpha (α) is one short blink and one long blink.
Beta (β) is one long blink and three short blinks.
So gamma (γ), delta (δ), epsilon (ε)…
A new signal based on phonemes that could not even exist in this era, the Greek alphabet.
Considering that our current writing system oscillates between hieroglyphic and syllabic, this too has leapt forward hundreds of years in the history of language.
In addition, the ‘newest type of text’ is encrypted and transmitted from a distance like this? Humankind would have had to wait until France at the end of the 18th century to come up with such an idea.
Revolutionary France, which used the first telecommunication called Télégraphe Chappe (a communication system using a tower with a rotating signal rod), transmitted the current state of the war in just a few hours across hundreds of kilometers.
Since there is no telescope, it will be difficult to make a signal that can be discerned from a distance even during the day… But if you can use this properly, it will be possible to quickly exchange information between cities at night.
Blink, blink, blink, blink.
Pi (φ), chi (χ), psi (ψ), and omega (ω).
The lighthouse that transmitted all the alphabets one by one soon created a sentence by combining the alphabets.
-‘Ino likes Paris.’
Deiphobos laughed when he read the message.
And I… bowed my head for a while.
My face was hot.
That, that sentence,
It is the first remote communication that will go down in history forever.
***
-Shyyiik!
A large dog sniffing the ground raises its head with its golden nape hair waving at the high, clear whistling sound.
“Euros, come here! Bring the other kids and come with us!”
The dog, called Euros, was intelligent enough to call out two companions who were chasing each other’s tails nearby.
The rest of the dogs, of different colors and breeds, must have quickly understood the words of the chieftain, Eurus, and soon ran to their owners through the long grass.
Their owner whistles lightly and laughs.
From nob le mt l. co m
Look at those light steps that seem to do their best. Truly, it belongs to a naive beast that can think of nothing but the present moment.
Honesty and loyalty, thinking of nothing but friendship with the master in front of him, and love for him.
Menelaus loved his dogs above all else.
Menelaus moved slowly, stroking the fur of the clever beasts that had approached him. He listened to the attendants on either side lowering their heads, pouring information into his ears.
“Right now, the movements of Icarios, the son of Oivalos, are unusual. They seem to be reluctant to see us bring back the factions of Hippocon.”
“Not only that. The Messeneans are also showing disquieting movements.”
“With no male descendants of the royal family left.”
“For now, they also have a reason to shake the throne of Sparta, albeit faintly due to their bloodline.”
“are you okay. Castor, the king of the Messeneans, is not on bad terms with you. He will adequately stop the Messeneans from moving.”
Menelaus followed the attendants and came to his favorite hunting ground before he knew it.
The broad-leaved forest surrounding the root of the low mountain was beautiful. The smell of crushed fruit and grass emanated from this forest, where newly sprouted buds and rotten leaves from last winter were lying together.
Breathing in the fresh, sweet air, he barely revived his dark complexion. But the shadowy melancholy that lingered on his handsome face still lingered. It was an indelible scar, a part of him.
Feeling relieved, he stood by his attendants and recited.
“Really… Sparta is dirty.”
Tyndareus, who took care of the brothers Menelaus and Agamemnon, was also deprived of the throne by his brother Hippocon and exiled, but managed to regain the throne with the help of Hercules. (It was a rare case of Hercules restoring the country instead of destroying it.)
And the sons of Tyndareus, who were supposed to be kings of this country, were also murdered after stealing the fiances of their cousins, the princes of Mecenat, and now they have become Gemini.
At that time, thanks to the death of all the heirs to the throne of both Sparta and Mecenat, Menelaus himself became the king of Sparta.
it’s a terrible country It is a country full of blood.
Because of this, Menelaus, who took over this country, can’t help but have blood on his hands. Soon, Iphigenia, my nephew, will establish a country, so I have to step into the depths of this mud to add strength to it.
‘…Still, it won’t be like Mycenae.’
Menelaus smiles faintly for a while as he recalls his family stained by cannibalism, incest, and kinslaughter.
Complicated genealogies, complex disputes, long-standing grudges.
In this way, he is becoming the king of Sparta while walking on a tightrope.
“Eup… up… oops…”
Without the knowledge of Queen Helen.
Menelaus lightly kicked something that was soft in front of his eyes, and a scream was heard.
Among the bushes, a man was tied up with his mouth and eyes covered.
“Take off the gag. Oh, take off the blindfold too.”
“I understand, Mr. Menelaus.”
Menelaus looked down at the man’s expression of hatred and fear with calm, emotionless eyes. The man did not stop wriggling even when his limbs were tied.
Menelaus pondered for a moment, then squatted down in front of him at eye level.
As soon as the man takes off the gag, he spits on Menelaus, but he quickly dodges the dirty saliva.
When the bewildered man looked up at himself in silence for a moment, Menelaus opened his mouth.
“Are you really not interested in revenge? Why did you betray us?”
“Son of a b*tch— shut up.”
“My dog. You are the Lacedaemon, and I am the rightful King of the Lacedaemon.”
Menelaus hardened his expression and sighed.
“Call me lord.”
“Lord? How does a Mycenae bastard become king of the Lacedaemonians?”
“You talk too much about serving the usurper who ousted your brother. If you refuse, ask someone else to do it for you. I want you to keep Helen, the daughter of Tyndareos, and her loyalists in check.”
“If I refuse, all my comrades will refuse. I’ll tell my comrades how ugly you are. ”
“Ah… you’re talking to your comrades?”
Menelaus still looked at the man with businesslike eyes.
“How ugly is I?”
“okay!”
“Then you can die before you speak.”
A question suddenly appears on the man’s face. What do you mean by that? There’s no way you can kill someone like me?
But Menelaus doesn’t care whether he’s locked up in stupid questions or not.
“Really, I am sad that things have turned out this way. The king of Sparta even greeted and persuaded the guests in person like this, but failed. It was a waste of time. I admire your patriotism.”
Monotonous voice without intonation.
The clichéd phrases without emotion, polite expressions as if they were added out of etiquette, like a skilled tradesman who failed at a bargain.
Polite manners and calmness that continue even in this situation.
The man was even more unable to comprehend the reality, and was only making a stupid expression with a sense of incongruity.
Menelaus got up and whistled.
“Euros, Notos, Boreas?”
Then Menelaus’ favorite hounds enter the forest.
Menelaus went hunting quietly with the head of the Hippoconpa.
And, the wolves living in the forest bit and killed the man who went hunting with Menelaus.
Menelaus eagerly searched for his body, but couldn’t find it.
In that scenario, they are the children who will play the ‘wolf’ part.
“bite.”
Menelaus turns and leaves the forest, ignoring the sound of meat being eaten behind him. He has already overcome the river of bloodshed with his older brother.
But instead of consuming his emotions, he decided to be cool-headed like his older brother. It focused on the great world ahead and the journey leading up to it.
Purge like this in Sparta… and squeeze resources… and send them to Iphigenia, my niece who is about the same age as me…
So, to sum up,
Takes resources from me and gives them to my nephew.
By the time Sparta is stained with blood and she is turning into a fishy pig in the bloody mud, Iphigenia enjoys a happy honeymoon with her beautiful husband in ‘Calipolis’.
…for what?
The Strait is important, but is it more important than this Spartan stability? Sparta and its kingship
Aren’t these stakes too high to bet on?
Maybe this isn’t your brother’s mistake…
…
a bit tired
Menelaus frowns and wipes the blood spattered from his face with his cloak from an ‘accident while hunting’. He even wiped the sweat from his furrowed forehead.
still.
– “Brother, the family should be good. Isn’t it?”
That’s right, bro. There must be a reason.
I will believe