Rage -- Goddess, sing the rage of =Peleus' son =Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the =Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of =Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, =Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant =Achilles. What god drove them to fight with such a fury? =Apollo the son of =Zeus and =Leto. Incensed at the king he swept a fatal plague through the army -- men were dying and all because =Agamemnon spurned =Apollo's priest. Yes, =Chryses approached the Achaeans' fast ships to win his daughter back, bringing a priceless ransom. Now with the squadrons marshaled, captains leading each, the =Trojans came with cries and the din of war like wildfowl when the long hoarse cries of cranes sweep on against the sky and the great formations flee from winter's grim ungodly storms, flying in force, shrieking south to the Ocean gulfs, speeding blood and death to the Pygmy warriors, launching at daybreak savage battle down upon their heads. But =Achaea's armies came on strong in silence, breathing combat-fury, hearts ablaze to defend each other to the death. When the South Wind showers mist on the mountaintops, no friend to shepherds, better than night to thieves -- you can see no farther than you can fling a stone -- so dust came clouding, swirling up from the feet of armies marching at top speed, trampling through the plain. Then =PallasAthena granted =Tydeus' son =Diomedes strength and daring -- so the fighter would shine forth and tower over the =Argives and win himself great glory. She set the man ablaze, his shield and helmet flaming with tireless fire like the star that flames at harvest, bathed in the Ocean, rising up to outshine all other stars. Such fire =Athena blazed from =Tydides' head and shoulders, drove him into the center where the masses struggled on. There was a =Trojan, =Dares, a decent, wealthy man, the god =Hephaestus' priest who had bred two sons, =Phegeus and =Idaeus, trained for every foray. Breaking ranks they rushed ahead in their chariot, charging =Diomedes already dismounted, rearing up on foot. Vaunting, aflash in arms, =Hector swept through the gates with his brother =Paris keeping pace beside him. Both men bent on combat, on they fought like wind when a god sends down some welcome blast to sailors desperate for it, worked to death at the polished oars, beating the heavy seas, their arms slack with the labor -- so welcome that brace of men appeared to the =Trojans desperate for their captains. Each one killed his man. =Paris took =Menesthius, one who had lived in =Arne, a son of King =Areithous lord of the war-club and his lady =Phylomedusa with large lovely eyes. =Hector slashed =Eioneus' throat with a sharp spear, ripped him under the helmet's hammered bronze rim -- his legs collapsed in death. So the =Trojans held their watch that night but not the =Achaeans -- godsent =Panic seized them, comrade of bloodcurdling =Rout: all their best were struck by grief too much to bear. As crosswinds chop the sea where the fish swarm, the North Wind and the West Wind blasting out of =Thrace in sudden, lightning attach, waver on blacker wave, cresting, heaving a tangled mass of seaweed out along the surf -- so the =Achaeans' hearts were torn inside their chests. Distraught with the rising anguish, =Atreus' son went ranging back and forth, commanding heralds to sound out loud and clear and call the men to muster, each by name, but no loud outcry now. The king himself pitched in with the lead heralds, summoning troops. They grouped on the meeting grounds, morale broken. Now =Dawn rose up from bed by her lordly mate =Tithonus, bringing light to immortal gods and mortal men. But =Zeus flung =Strife on =Achaea's fast ships, the brutal goddess flaring his storm-shield, his monstrous sign of war in both her fists. She stood on =Odysseus' huge black-bellied hull, moored mid-line so a shout could reach both wings, upshore to =Telamonian =Ajax' camp or down to =Achilles' -- trusting so to their arms' power and battle-strength they'd hauled their trim ships up on either flank. There =Strife took her stand, raising her high-pitched cry, great and terrible, lashing the fighting-fury in each =Achaean's heart -- no stopping them now, mad for war and struggle. Now suddenly, battle thrilled them more than the journey home, than sailing hollow ships to their dear native land. But once =Zeus had driven =Hector and =Hector's =Trojans hard against the ships, he left both armies there, milling among the hulls to bear the brunt and wrenching work of war -- no end in sight -- while =Zeus himself, his shining eyes turned north, gazed a world away to the land of =Thracian horsemen, the =Mysian fighters hand-to-hand and the lordly =Hippemolgi who drinks the milk of mares, and the =Abii, most decent men alive. But not a moment more would he turn his shining eyes to Troy. =Zeus never dreamed in his heart a single deathless god would go to war for =Troy's or =Achaea's forces now. Back through jutting stakes and across the trench they fled, and hordes were cut down at the =Argives' hands -- the rest, only after they reached the chariots, stood fast, blanched with fear, whipped in desperate flight. That moment =Zeus awoke on the heights of =Ida, stretched out by =Hera, queen of the golden throne -- he leapt to his feet, he saw the =Trojans and =Achaeans, one side routed, the other harrying them in panic, =Achaeans attacking, and god =Poseidon led the way. And =Zeus saw =Hector sprawled on the battlefield, his comrades kneeling round him as he panted, struggling hard for breath, his senses stunned, vomiting blood. The man who'd struck him down was not the weakest =Argive. At the sight of =Hector the father of men and gods filled with pity now and shooting a terrible dark glance down at =Hera, burst out at her, "What a disaster you create!" But =Atreus' son the fighting =Menalaus marked it all -- the =Trojans killing =Patrocles there in the brutal carnage -- and crested now in his gleaming bronze gear =Atrides plowed through the front to stand astride the body, braced like a mother cow lowing over a calf, her first-born, first labor-pangs she had felt. So the red-haired captain bestrode =Patrocles now, shielding his corpse with spear and round buckler, burning to kill off any man who met him face-to-face. But =Euphorbus who hurled the lethal ashen spear would not neglect his kill, =Patrocles' handsome body. Halting close beside it, he taunted fighting =Menelaus: "Back, high and mighty =Atrides, captain of armies -- back from the corpse, and leave the bloody gear! I was the first =Trojan, first of the famous allies to spear =Patrocles down in the last rough charge. So let me seize my glory among the =Trojans now -- or I'll spear you too, I'll rip your own sweet life away!" As =Dawn rose up in her golden robe from Ocean's tides, bringing light to immortal gods and mortal men, =Thetis sped =Hephaestus' gifts to the ships. She found her beloved son lying facedown, embracing =Patroclus' body, sobbing, wailing, and round him crowded troops of mourning comrades. And the glistening goddess moved among them now, seized =Achilles' hand and urged him, spoke his name: "My child, leave your friend to lie there dead -- we must, though it breaks our hearts. The will of the gods has crushed him once for all. But here, =Achilles, accept this glorious armor, look, a gift from the god of fire -- burnished bright, finer than any mortal has ever borne across his back!" But once they reached the ford where the river runs clear, the strong, whirling =Xanthus sprung of immortal =Zeus, =Achilles split the =Trojan rout, driving one half back toward the city, scattering up the plain where =Achaeans themselves stampeded off in terror just the day before when =Hector raged unchecked. Now back in their tracks the =Trojans fled pell-mell while =Hera spread dense cloud ahead to block their way. But the other half were packed in the silver-whirling river, into its foaming depths they tumbled, splashing, flailing -- the plunging river roaring, banks echoing, roaring back and the men screamed, swimming wildly, left and right, spinning round in the whirlpools. Spun like locusts swarming up in the air, whipped by rushing fire, flitting toward a river -- the tireless fire blazes, scorching them all with hard explosive blasts of flame and beaten down in the depths the floating locusts huddle -- so at =Achilles' charge the =Xanthus' swirling currents choked with a spate of horse and men -- the river roared. So they grieved at =Troy while =Achaea's troops pulled back. Once they reached the warships moored at the =Hellespont the contingents scattered, each man to his own ship, but =Achilles still would not dismiss his =Myrmidons, he gave his battle-loving comrades strict commands: "Charioteers in fast formation -- friends to the death! We must no loose our teams from the war-cars yet. All in battle-order drive them past =Patroclus -- a cortege will mourn the man with teams and chariots. These are the solemn honors owned the dead. And then, after we've eased our hearts with tears and dirge, we free the teams and all take supper here."