Epigoni: Antimachus of Teos

By Tuomas Vainio

A tale of cruel men,
Once lost will be told again,
An era of war from crawl to a cane,
A life horrors enough to drive one insane,
Struggles against untold loss and pain,
And tears that vanish with the rain,
Not a word do I have to feign,
Countless men were slain,
In search of a glory to attain,
But oaths of men are their bane,
Their great victories rendered vain,
For it is vengeance that flows in vein,
Blind to threat that lurks beneath a mane,
These sons of slain fathers could not abstain,
And soon you will hear the old tale again,
The oath bound necessity of all men,
And how tears vanish with rain,
Story I bore witness with my cane,
So sit and listen for the lesson to gain,
Drink and feast until there is not one stain,
Let us all celebrate memory of once great men.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tuomas Vainio
• Release date: Feb 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005271565

Tuomas Vainio

I write, I read, and the typos are still there. It is the crux of my life. Anyhow, my published works should not be overpriced and in some outlets you might be even able to set your own price!

Book preview

Epigoni

As it was once told by

Antimachus of Teos

– – –

Tuomas Vainio

"A name is but a mask a man can wear,

And sons of slain fathers will suffer all the same."

Epigoni. Copyright © 2021 Tuomas Vainio.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without a written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact the author at @Antimachus_of_Teos on Minds.com, or at @Antimachus_Teos on Gab.com, or at @Teos on Parler.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Lines 1—406 – Sons of Thebes

Lines 406—1134 – Price of Greed

Lines 1134—2044 – A Game of Dice

Lines 2044—2800 – Price of Victory

Lines 2800—3374 – Archer of Ithaca

Lines 3374—4718 – The First Years

Lines 4718—6643 – The Final Years

Lines 6643—7714 – Prisoner of a Queen

Lines 7714—8204 – Wolves and Strength

Lines 8204—8526 – Homecoming

Now, muses, let us begin to sing of younger men,

For the years have been long and as many as ten,

It is time to try and correct an old wrong yet again,

Even if advised against by the wisest of our men,

So grab your spear and shield instead of a mere hen,

For vile vultures have made what is yours their den,

And ghosts of your slain fathers still shout: when?

Hail Aegialeus, son of Adrastus, the one born to rule,

The false king of Thebes considers you a mere fool,

One that is entirely unfit to even ride a dead mule,

He begs you to show before his gates for a fate cruel,

He thinks your skull might be used as a fine stool,

Or perhaps as the chamber pot for a golden whirlpool,

He mocks as the gods have promised the death of a fool.

Hail Alcmaeon, son of Amphiaraus, you lead like no other,

So would you let this chance for honour pass for another,

Would you cast aside these men as asked by thy mother,

Or is your spine made of no other than a goat's butter,

Is the shade of a tree where your heart longs to thither,

And caress bare breasts along with Aphrodite's blither,

Tell us: whether a mere coward or one born of thunder?

Hail Amphilochus, son of Amphiaraus, step out of shade,

We all hear how you have trained with spear and blade,

How the games of horses have never seen you swayed,

Thus step out to the light and partake in this noble raid,

Show your father's enemies what their sons are made,

How your spirit has never learned what it is to be afraid,

So stand tall and go practice what you call your trade.

Hail Diomedes, son of Tydeus, is your vow forgotten,

Have your insides already turned into something rotten,

You must avenge before you can have spawn begotten,

These are the whims of gods you are now caught in,

And surely you must play the role you have gotten,

Because none other will see the burden boughten,

Glory is a destiny waiting you to see it wrought in.

Hail Euryalus, son of Mecisteus, how are you fists,

Do you have your father's boulders at your wrists,

Can you knock out scores of men with mere twists,

Even if you cannot – there is one task that persists,

Sons of slain fathers have a fate ahead that enlists,

City of Thebes awaits past fields of morning mists,

And enemies of your father have you on their lists.

Hail Promachus, son of Parthenopaeus, what a scene,

Wherever you go the daughters of citizens also glean,

If one called you a statue their heart did not demean,

Your skin like marble puts shame to beauty of Athene,

But for gods it is your other side that awaits to be seen,

Because your father's looks came with ways ever so mean,

And all your enemies will die if you stab them in their spleen.

Hail Sthenelus, son of Capaneus, will you scale the walls,

Clear a path into the city of your father's enemies and halls,

Do you hear the wind and how it is destiny that now calls,

Tell us – are you like a woman born without a pair of balls,

Because cowardice is a sting that creates a life of long galls,

Will you become the hero that thousand generations recalls,

Or is the city of Thebes where your allegiances now falls?

Hail Thersander, son of Polynices, a king without a city,

Look how even the wild dogs stare at you with mere pity,

You may try to spring your tongue with words that are witty,

But you do not sleep among daughters that eye calls pretty,

Not until you have completed this task bound to be gritty,

Because your city of Thebes is known to make wars tricky,

You do not have the time to wait and until years number fifty.

Hail Polydorus, son of Hippomedon, you sit alone by a strand,

The other sons of the seven have already formed their band,

Yet you have not taken a shield nor a spear into your hand,

Is this defiance of our gods that your mind has planned,

Do you not wish to play a role to correct wrongs of this land,

Will you just sit over here drawing circles into the sand,

While others carve their names to something grand?

This is the way how the sons of the seven were approached,

How the burden of their fathers swelled and encroached,

One by one their free will in this matter was poached,

Until turning back became a topic unapproached,

Thus like seven fathers – their sons became provoked,

United under a singular banner each of them stood cloaked,

The city of Thebes would regret the wrath it had stoked.

Thus the nine sons of the seven took themselves to the roads,

At first they were side by side but split in half at crossroads,

And so they went on and hopped onward like bunch of toads,

Town after town they croaked the fortune a victory bodes,

Split and share the fortunes Thebes was known from odes,

Thus even from afar men began to arrive by their boatloads,

Little by little an army grew against Thebes from the roads.

But the city of Thebes did not sit and wait for their fate idle,

They spoke of wild horses outside their gates needing a bridle,

Something to prevent them from creating a force that is tidal,

And they knew they lacked enough daughters to offer a bridal,

Thus some spoke highly about courage at best called suicidal,

Others went to their gods and prayed below their temple's idol,

Yet only for one of them Ares whispered something homicidal.

Thus stood up Laodamas, son of Eteocles, with things to be said;

I understand why each of you now cower as if chained by dread,

Unlike their noble fathers the sons wish to see each of us dead,

They are an enemy that will kill us in our beds if we break bread,

Now they come with a force that will see our streets turned red,

It is a snake that has approached us with its tail rather than a head,

They gather on fields and hills without anyone here to see them led.

What do we do, what do we do, the citizens of Thebes cried out,

Are we forced to leave our city behind as some managed to shout,

While others just turned their heads down with hearts full of doubt,

As they could not shake away the words of each and every scout,

A storm that their own numbers alone could never hope to rout,

Therefore some turned towards the words of a miserable lout,

One that begged others that they should be the ones to rout.

Thus the miserable lout was slain by Laodamas upon that spot,

He reminded how Thebes was not something to let go for naught,

How they should give fathers that were and sons to be an honest thought,

What kind of lesson would fathers have for their sons to be taught,

If they flee and quit the moment their nerves happen to taut,

So he commanded the men to wipe away tears and snot,

And listen closely for the one thing that they ought.

Naturally the people of the city would hear none of it,

Blood on streets and insults made anger rise up with spit,

Laodamas watched how his city was tearing towards a split,

How blades were drawn so a fellow man's throat could be slit,

He had driven his city to the brink death to force it to admit,

That their gods had given them a singular role to commit,

How they could only leap onwards in front of their pit.

We have to put siege to our own city – Laodamas declared,

So profoundly it dumbfounded the people that they only stared,

For they could not understand what had been just aired,

In that moment the things that had made them scared,

And actions that had seen their emotions become so flared,

In a mere moment those were forgotten as if no one had ever cared,

And if explanation made sense – their heads might be spared.

Thus spoke Laodamas with truths that lies could not evoke;

We may not know where lies the head of this monstrous snake,

But we known that its tail lies beyond our walls while awake,

It slithers and lashes if we rush out to give it a feeble poke,

Instead we shall use the coming night as our cover of smoke,

In darkness we raise tents and barricades without a croak,

And invite the slithering tail for a chance to uncloak.

As the good people Thebes gazed upon faces of each other,

They realized how they would greet their enemy like a brother,

Have them feast and rest as if they were back home at their mother,

Let them drink and fall asleep so that they are easy to smother,

Leave their bodies rot before the wall and wait for a group another,

If no one survived the night then their enemy could not discover,

How their numbers bled as fast as the head managed to gather.

A plan without honour, but all praised Laodamas' wisdom,

He became the city's defender by a unanimous decision,

While those with minds that thought of greater vision,

Claimed that victory would bring a greater kingdom,

Once the other cities had no more sons for heroism,

The loss at Thebes creates an unbearable schism,

One by one Thebes would see them its victim.

Now they had a way to put an end to their plight,

Thus began the preparations for the coming night,

The citizens told each other how might makes right,

Even if it were acquired through an act of mere sleight,

They knew that Thebes would leave behind a great sight,

Perhaps the poets wouldn't recall the day for a glorious fight,

But on the next there would still be sons of Thebes left to write.

Thus the young men of Thebes wore blindfolds and started to train,

They walked, climbed, and raised tents while aching in pain,

And they did so until the unskilled no longer tried again,

Thus the humiliation of their men was for from vain,

They had found their hundred to see a goal attain,

Men who knew without any need to explain,

How to succeed in this gambit insane.

Without a single torch lit,

Our hundred picked up and split,

Each with a burden under their armpit,

Thanked the gods the night was not moonlit,

And scaled the walls one by one to form an outfit,

Because even a single man lost would force all to quit,

So began the siege Thebes and who would call it counterfeit.

The hundred young men of Thebes were tired by first light,

And they found the first glare of the sun so very bright,

Their efforts stood illuminated before their sight,

Tents and barricades ready for a long fight,

A honey pot for flies to come alight,

So few in number might smite,

And let none take flight.

It first took a while,

But soon they came in a file,

The tired hundred smiled with guile,

And welcomed this help against a city so vile,

Offered a chance to rest and drink from their stockpile,

And the arrivals answered in kind by adding theirs to the pile,

Thus they joined in arms to keep their eyes on the city within a mile.

What the hundred young men of Thebes now dreaded most,

Was their hearts for they had now eaten the same roast,

Raised their horns brimming with wine to a toast,

And promised to remain true in their post,

While the day's light came to a close,

With this act none could boast,

Faces were that of a ghost.

But Laodamas knew their heart,

How doubt could tear his hundred apart,

Someone had to be first before others take part,

It was the safety of the walls if Thebes he did depart,

Because the burden of the first was one he could not impart,

Thus he was brought to a tent to slit throats with movements dart,

And with each new death another body was placed onto a mere ox cart.

The men of Thebes kept their silence long after this deed was done,

None of them could declare that the first night had been won,

It simply did not matter since it could not be undone,

And it would be done again with morning sun,

It might not even work in the long run,

What lies could they even spun,

They couldn't think of one.

But Laodamas was not numb,

He walked along with a little hum,

It drew attention to him like a loud drum,

He seemed quite so pleased by their outcome,

And so he pointed towards the ox cart with a thumb,

He declared how the dead would have nothing to condemn,

If the living were to take their armour to help cause more mayhem.

The hundred young men of Thebes now wore shields of the dead,

And in turn saw the effort to see their very own clothes shred,

So half of the dead would find dirt by the wall as their bed,

Where their failed ambush had seen them flee in dread,

Hacked to pieces to explain why the grass was red,

And thus by morning no words had to be said,

The sight alone was a lie none could shed.

Yet it was not all Laodamas had planned,

Because their camp needed more men at hand,

Because the men outside had still needs to demand,

Thus by raising the right flags and banners to their hand,

The men guarding the walls could easily see and understand,

The needs and desires of those who kept the enemy camp manned,

And therefore during the siege of Thebes nothing happened unplanned.

More than thousand dead by walls of Thebes became a sight truly deranged,

Hence Laodamas came up with a brand new lie to have it all explained,

How they needed more to arrive before the walls could be engaged,

But the men that had arrived before had become so outraged,

That they simply rushed the walls in one mad rampage,

Fury that the walls of Thebes had seen contained,

And thus the siege had remained unchanged.

No one could hope to doubt his words,

They saw how the dead were picked by birds,

How the dead outnumbered the living by two-thirds,

And thus day by day wolves welcomed in the sheep herds,

They raised their drinks and heard those empty words,

And they were fed to those flocks of black birds,

Before the walls of Thebes the dead begirds.

The people of Thebes endured the stench,

Because each night brought new wine to quench,

The thirst of labour for farmers made to sit on a bench,

While they waited for the day there was no blood to drench,

Thus they tried their best to endure the growing stench,

And watch how black birds flew from their bench,

Longing for days to have their tools to clench.

To the elders of the city the sight gave them fears,

Thus they gave each of these idle men shields and spears,

And they saw these idle men train until sweat had turned to tears,

Because it was a far better sight than how the free wine rose to their ears,

Thus even the old men of the city shook off weight of the years,

As they marched their city's walls with shields and spears,

And greeted their enemy with boisterous cheers.

The women of Thebes rarely went outdoors,

Because they were not as burdened by their chores,

And so they gossiped as if they lived without life's vapours,

The besiegers outside their walls had been slain by thousand scores,

Their sons and husbands had brought goods to fill their stores,

The only thing to dread was the smell beyond their doors,

And that was a distant thing while they were indoors.

Thus the people of Thebes were overjoyed,

But their leader Laodamas often stared to the void,

When he walked he lashed because small things annoyed,

Because even after months their enemy was not yet destroyed,

He had to speak with his father that had became mad and paranoid,

A hissing husk of a great man none could call humanoid,

And as thin as some shadow risen from the void.

Thus Laodamas sneaked away in the heart of night,

He hid among the rotting bodies and moved on with sleight,

Until the walls of Thebes could be scaled with a moment just right,

And he knew his city well enough not to rely upon his sight,

No citizens noticed him, not even ones that held light,

He felt how the night air had started to bite,

And his home brought him no delight.

And through a locked front door,

He heard his servants snore,

Free of all worries of the war,

He stepped slowly on the floor,

Straight to a ladder found indoor,

And climbed down to hidden door,

Greeted the father he could not adore.

The man once seen as better of two sons,

One that had carried burdens while other runs,

Thus Thebes had favoured only one of the two sons,

The city had denied him rule after his year long violent runs,

As they had preferred the more peaceful and calm of the two sons,

Thus the rejected son had sought aid from others with his runs,

He wished to deny the throne from the better of two sons.

But a thin shadow of man did not notice a single thing,

Not even when Laodamas called Eteocles a king,

He just wailed and spoke in the same swing,

Rhymes that children once used to sing,

Beard stained from constant puking,

A prisoner with his own keyring,

Unaware of just everything.

Yet Laodamas did pretend,

That this madness could end,

That his words alone could mend,

And turn Eteocles into a man to depend,

At least, he still had an ear to lend,

One that he could not offend,

By failures to commend.

He told of his old plan yet again,

The bravery of Thebes' limited men,

How it had worked time and time again,

But now he could not ask for any more men,

While the enemies kept coming again and again,

How their enemy numbers were not just of free men,

But also slaves that moved things for them now and then.

It was then that Laodamas gazed again at his father's chains,

How once great man had madness inside his veins,

A man who now slept in his own stains,

Because he could not use his key to open the chains,

Incapable to bring comfort to his pains,

He told Eteocles tales from corners of his domains,

And for that fleeting moment the mad king's attention retains.

Eteocles smiled and listened the voice of his only son,

And Laodamas hoped to recall more tales to spun,

Because the very moment the tales were done,

The fleeting moment of sanity was undone,

And a part of Laodamas wished to run,

The sight of Eteocles caused shun,

No stopping it once it begun.

What he would give to set him free,

But when have the gods heard any plea,

Surely they are laughing at us all with glee,

Deaths and struggles are their little game to see,

And with the passing night Thebes cuts its own knee,

How long until new arrivals of the morning refuse to agree,

Laodamas lamented the fate of free men he could not see set free.

The weight of his father's chains was a burden of his own,

Laodamas felt how its weight rested on his bone,

Hard enough to force a free man fall prone,

The burden of a man upon the throne,

Deadly for anyone with crooked backbone,

Laodamas knew he was not in a position to moan,

And he knew that there was a decision to be made known.

Laodamas kissed the scarred forehead of his father,

And left knowing that he alone could not falter,

Elders of the city met by city's temple altar,

Servants woken up to act as their caller,

So everything could be done proper,

Present decision born of honour,

So that Thebes might prosper.

Before they were made seated,

Weary and tired the elders greeted,

Heard the words Laodamas repeated,

They thought he had become conceited,

But they had no words to see him defeated,

Reluctantly they saw his demands completed,

Yet the insult to pride was not easily disquieted.

In the distance Laodamas saw the break of new day,

And so he hastened for he had things to convey,

The men in the camp gathered without delay,

It was rare for Laodamas to request such display,

And many became curious to hear what he had to say,

Laodamas held a piece of parchment with array,

A decisions of the elders none could sway.

Marked by blood of a palm and mark of a left thumb,

They did not understand how such a command had become,

What had driven their city of Thebes to such outcome,

It angered many because free men were not scum,

Yet they knew that they could only succumb,

Because in distance they heard a drum,

More besiegers had already come.

The night followed as it always did,

Besiegers retreated to close their eyelid,

Unaware of the many blades that were amid,

And the foul intentions that wide smiles had hid,

Thus with silence these free men of Thebes did slid,

One enemy throat after another they saw to rid,

Until only the slaves were left to hear a bid.

Laodamas stood among the ring of spears,

He witnessed the slaves full of fears,

How their cheeks were of tears,

From the sight of his peers,

And so he asked for their ears,

How slaves should put away fears,

Because they could pick death or spears.

The slaves did not understand the men of Thebes,

But Laodamas promised freedom for deeds,

That they would not pick up weeds,

They could be more than a hand that feeds,

They could be free and take care of their own needs,

If they