ABSTRACT
He stands there, foot suspended in midair, about to step on this precious red fabric laid before him by his wife. Who is this man who knows he is about to tempt fate by walking on this rich red pathway? Is he the cold-blooded murderer of his daughter that his wife will, only moments from now, accuse him of being? Or is he the misunderstood leader of a thousand ships that were set to destroy Troy and made immobile by the absence of a wind? The gods, as usual, promised to rectify this, but it came at a price; a sacrifice, to be exact. The terms were relatively straightforward: the life of his daughter for the return of the wind. An impossible demand, but one he ultimately obeyed. It brought him victory and with it, a question that forms in the minds of all who now encounter him: What kind of man could do such a thing? Sacrifice a daughter for a wind? Is it possible, in such a moment, to be both a father and a general? Or must one choose? And if so, which one plunged the knife into the young girl’s breast? The father who had no other choice? Or the general who was impatient for a place in history? Who, indeed, stands before us now, about to step on those resplendent fabrics laid out for him in honor of his victory.
