Sing Muse. Sing of the shining citadel of Troy rising from the hot sands of Asia. Sing of the Greek palaces ascending from their rocky hilltops. Sing of one woman’s dream heralding the madness of men and the murder of innocents. From bull dancing rings and wild meadows, the Forgotten Prince must choose between love and a golden crown. From seclusion and safety, the Golden Warrior must choose between his honor and his life. From behind the Great Wall, the Golden Prince must choose between his family and his city. And from a rugged realm on the far side of Greece, the Warrior King must choose between his son’s life and certain exile. Here shepherds and princes, warriors and kings, and seers and lovers seek to conquer their passions, outwit destiny or surrender to it.
PARIS, the FORGOTTEN PRINCE.
ACHILLES, the GOLDEN WARRIOR.
HEKTOR, the GOLDEN PRINCE.
ODYSSEUS, the WARRIOR KING.
Where did their legends begin before their lives converged at Troy in one of the most famous battles of all time? The HOMERIC CHRONICLES tells the stories of Paris, Achilles, Hektor, and Odysseus in one chronological tale, beginning before the ILIAD and ending long after the ODYSSEY. Blending both history and myth, the Homeric Chronicles will satisfy your love of Greek mythology, while paying homage to the original storyteller, Homer.
SONGS OF PRINCES begins with the birth of Paris and Achilles, and introduces us to a young Hektor and Odysseus. The journey of the princes begins…
Lexias stared at the boy. Their eyes locked in a battle of wills and he resorted to his smile, as he usually did to win his mother over. Lexias shook her head at his expected maneuver, a grin that could melt the ice fringe from a pond midwinter. But today he needed reminding he remained but a boy in her household. “Clean your hands and put on fresh linen before you sit at my table.”
“Why?” he looked down at his clothing. “I am clean enough.”
Lexias scoffed. “I can smell you from across the kitchen. All cow dung and wet grass.”
Paris exhaled loudly in continued protest, sniffing his armpits and his tunic. “I smell nothing.”
His mother shook her head. “Please, take me at my word, son. Fresh clothing.
Then, dinner.” Lexias shook her head as Paris turned toward his room without another word. She’d won the battle of will and words for now but she knew full well the war was far from over.
“What will I do with this child?” she groaned. “He grows more headstrong with each passing day. Surely he will drag me to early death or cause more gray hairs to sprout,”
Lexias muttered as she turned the flat bread over the cooking stone.
“What are you mumbling about now woman? Ah! Let me guess. Paris again?”
Agelaus chuckled at his wife’s exasperation. “You are already gray, woman.”
Lexias didn’t bother turning around. “You may expect a cold wind to blow through your bed this night. Why couldn’t you have brought home a girl child?”
As soon as Paris sat to eat, he regaled his family with the tales of his cattle watch.
He told them how he single handedly drove off a handful of thieves and met a water nymph named Oenone.
Harmon shook his head laughing at Paris. “You and your fantastic tales little sister.”
Paris squeezed his eyes to mere slits at his older brother. “Iamnotagirl!”
“Prove it then. Prove you’ve seen this water nymph,” Harmon goaded.
Paris produced the silver crystal, holding it out for everyone to see.
His eldest brother, Harmon, snatched the bauble from Paris’ hand and examined it closely. “That is not but a shiny rock.”
“It’s her tear. I saw her make it,” Paris insisted.
“Just one tear, not two or three?” Tymon, the middle brother said, fanning the flames between his brothers.
“Nymphs only cry one tear at a time,” Paris insisted
“How do you come by such nonsense? You don’t know anything about nymphs or spirits,” Tymon insisted.
“Boys, that is quite enough. Leave Paris alone. Perhaps, he did meet a nymph,”
Agelaus defended his youngest son. “Not all mysteries in this world are revealed to every person.”
“Here begins the Paris is special oratory,” Harmon lifted his cup of wine in a toast to nothing. “This is no nymph tear. It is but a rock.”
“Agelaus, please. Don’t antagonize the boys against each other.” Lexias was forever pleading for fairness when tensions rose between her sons. She knew full well why her husband took the youngest to wing, but his protectiveness had bred an unintentional side effect. Their natural sons had grown to scorn Paris, refusing to accept him as a full member of their family.
“Paris, I believe you. Now, eat your dinner.” Agelaus refused to argue with his wife and ungrateful elder sons. He knew Paris was destined for more and that someday he would take his rightful place at King Priam’s side. And his sons would regret their youthful harshness toward the boy.