I Became a Slave to a Mythical Shepherd

Episode 80. Troia to Hattusa

The cumbersome and difficult guest reception has finally come to an end.

As a guest from Ithaca, that is, almost from the western end of the civilized world, he had to pay a lot of attention to his reception.

In addition, the envoy’s ‘class’ was much higher than expected, so the time to prepare the appropriate treatment was tight.

The servants of the palace each recalled the difficult past few days, and as they cleaned up the traces, they tapped their joints and bent their necks.

Priam did the same. As I lightly turned my neck, my bones and joints sang along with a crackling sound.

My head is clearer now.

Now you have time to calmly sink into your thoughts.

And… Priam sighed deeply.

The story of Paris came from the mouth of Odysseus, a prince who lived at the western end of Achaia.

“Rumors about Paris… are spreading faster than I thought.”

When I let those words out of my mouth and looked around, there was no one around Priam.

As he usually had the habit of talking with Anchises by his side, he would often talk to himself even when he thought about state affairs alone like this.

Come to think of it, Anchises seems to have enjoyed teaching Paris horsemanship lately.

He seems to take more pleasure in knocking them over and making them roll on the floor than teaching them.

Since it was a request he had made, Priam had no intention of stopping it.

it’s horsemanship

When he went to the east to help the kingdom of Phrygia and fight against the Amazons, it was a trick that Anchises had learned.

He refused to use that skill in battle, saying he didn’t want his horse to get hurt, but…

‘How about Paris?’

For a moment Priam imagined Paris galloping across the field on Anchises’ splendid horse. Beside it, Hector’s chariot flies along…

Of course, this is a false imagination. Even if two or three horses are pulled together, the chariot, which has to bear the weight of the chariot as well as the weight of the chariot, can never run at the same speed as the cavalry.

However, such a trivial reflection of reality was not important in Priam’s mind right now.

What mattered to Priam was the relief that filled this old heart.

‘thank god.’

I was really fortunate.

Deiphobos could not be said to be a vessel for a great general, or a seed for a great ruler.

Helenos had already dedicated his body and mind as a priest of Apollo, so at best he could only serve as the king’s throne. The rest of the children are too young to recognize that quality.

But Paris is different.

Paris is a man who could be king.

Also, he was the one who refused to be king.

The latter fact reassured Priam, and at the same time always puzzled him.

Of course, Priam is always ready.

Even if all this was a smoke screen for Paris, and if in reality he would rebel against him, unaware of the fear of the oath he swore to the river Styx, Priam would fend off Paris.

Even if you look at what you’ve done so far, it might be possible.

There were too many opportunities for rebellion for Paris.

When he sent Anchises and Aeneas, he was able to block the movement of the Dardanos nobles by killing Anchises and holding Aeneas hostage.

While Troia was unable to respond, it was enough to collude with the anti-royalists inside the city to bring Priam down.

Is that all? It seems that he successfully captured Aeneas on his last tour, but it was possible to treat Hector as an ‘accident’ and get rid of him during several fierce battles.

Not so difficult, Paris becomes the heir to the throne, takes control of the city, and even cleans Priam himself? A neat plan.

Beyond that… there were so many possibilities that came to Priam’s mind.

In his view, Paris must have thought of that possibility too. A son must have as much intellect as his father.

And none of those possibilities have materialized.

Priam is therefore even more suspicious.

How could one blacksmith make so many cities so prosperous in a few years?

And how could a single slave ever take over and rule the cities?

Above all, how

. . . Is it possible that a prince could not have further ambitions?

Priam was proud of Paris. He was glad that he had grown so strong, even though he had abandoned him in a cold field.

But at the same time, I also felt that way.

“I wonder if the day will ever come when I can understand everything inside that child.”

A feat built from scratch by a slave boy.

The complicated inner thoughts of an abandoned son and child.

maybe someday i’ll find out

Priam flaps his cloak and leaves the room. When he steps on the threshold, the attendants behind him blow out the lights in the room one by one.

“Paris···.”

A prince loved by the gods and hated by the gods.

Will it really cause this Troy to fall?

Behind him, in the darkened room, there was only darkness.

It seemed to hint at the unknown unknown and the future that would soon come.

***

“Damn it, why are you so busy? Wasn’t that the original railroad?”

“Have you not heard yet? Dull bastard… I’m busy with two events overlapping at the same time. Rumors are spreading, where do you wear your ears?”

“What event? It’s not the festival season, it’s not the festival season either.”

“Funeral and welcome guests.”

“What funeral?”

“Pitana, the royal chamberlain, has passed away.”

“Damn it, Teshub, my God. The elder of the Neshas (the main Hittite tribe, whose language Nesha or Hittite was the main official language of the empire) passed away, now what will happen?”

“Perhaps the winemaker has been stretching for a long time. Other Hatti (also one of the main Hittite tribes).”

“How do you look at that appearance?”

“What are you not good at? At least on the subject of a clerk.”

“Originally, politics requires equal participation from top to bottom…

Wait, by the way, then, what about welcoming guests?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know that? Think about it. Who would have told me that Pitana passed away? The person who went to Ilios (Troia’s nickname) as an envoy did not even leave a body.”

“hmm···.”

“How does this guy know how to write? Of course, he wasn’t a guest from Ilios, right?

You deliver this tablet or the tablet clerk. This time, more than 8 beers will be used to welcome guests.”

“sh*t···.”

“Don’t be vulgar. Oh, there is a guest coming over there.”

***

From nob le mt l. co m

Languages not heard at home.

A city with buildings built in a different style from their hometown and all kinds of tribes that are difficult to meet in their hometown.

…Unfortunately, a city that is many times greater than its hometown and has a long history.

Hattusa.

Dolon sees the two noble youths who glanced at him walk away from him, whispering in a language he did not understand. Probably a senior scribe… I don’t know the details.

It was not a big deal, but their eyes toward ‘strange things’ and their hasty steps to quickly escape from that ‘strange things’ aroused a strange sense of alienation.

I feel that I will never be a part of this place.

I’ve been using my ties with the Hittites as a political cause and weapon for so long.

Dolon feels bitter at the small paradox and accuses him.

He had been crying out for allegiance to Hattusha so much, and he had been crying out for an alliance with Hattusha, but he came to Hattusha only after he killed Hattusha’s high official.

If this is also a betrayal, could it be a betrayal?

‘···no.’

no.

He never betrayed, not even for a moment.

His loyal subjects have never changed, and his loyalty remains strong.

Dolon loved his city.

All of this was due to his loyalty and love.

“Dolon, please come this way.”

A voice heard in Ruwi, Dolon answered skillfully.

“Looks like you’re Hatti, but you can speak Hatti.”

“Ah… that’s great. The accent is impeccable.”

“What is your name, by any chance?”

“I am just one of the countless royal courtiers. You don’t have to know my name. I just want to thank you for giving me the obituary of my superior.”

. . . If it was the royal chamberlain, he would probably have been a subordinate of Pitana, who was the chief chamberlain.

“He was a great man. He was a generous man who gave food to many orphans and easily granted freedom to his slaves. I can’t believe that such a person has now gone to the arms of Lelwani (the god of the underworld worshiped by the Hatti people)…”

“They were mermaids. Poseidon’s servants took him.”

“My God… did you see it right in front of you?”

“Yes, everything, even the way he drew his sword and fought bravely.”

“May Lelvani, who sets the lifespan of man, look upon his soul.”

Talking about such nonsense, Dolon entered the most splendid and magnificent building in Hattusha, that is, the palace of the great king.

The royal chamberlain, who was guiding him, gradually separated from him, and other chamberlains joined in and began to instruct him on the complex and delicate manners to be followed at Hattusha’s court.

From nob le mt l. co m

Listening to boring explanations about which angle to bow, which hand to bow, which knee to kneel, etc., Dolon is briefly lost in other thoughts.

About a boy who made him come this far, who allowed him to come this far.

Dolon ponders for a long time whether the boy is being generous or cruel, and then comes to a conclusion.

Both.

There is no forgiveness for enemies. However, he has enough restraint not to take out unnecessary anger on those who are no longer a threat.

It sounds obvious… but not many people do that.

Of course not too little.

However, in his heart, Dolon gives Prince Paris some extra points.

Because he was a miserably abandoned baby,

A slave who lived a lowly life,

It was because he was a blacksmith who must have continued constant labor.

He, who has been constantly thinking about whether his small city will survive against such a gigantic Hittite, finds one hope there.

…Yes, there is now one more clever prince in Troia.

may be able to win

Or at least let them face a decent defeat.

“Dolon of Troy, son of Eumedes, stood before the great king Supiluliuma of Hattusha! They say they are asking for an audience!”

One of the attendants standing in front of the door of the audience room shouts the set line, and soon the huge door opens softly and silently, as if it had been oiled.

Inside the throne room, precious metals and jewels rippled. Blinking his eyes and looking again, he saw countless vassals, elders, attendants and nobles moving around the great king.

Every time they turned their heads, shrugged their shoulders, the jewelry on their ears, shoulders, and head bounced off the sunlight.

There was a man sitting tall and quiet in the midst of that splendid splendor.

“…you must be Dolon.”

He is the great king of Hattusa.

A man who rules the world from the top of his head.

A person who can move an army of tens of thousands with a gesture of his hand.

A soft, strong voice.

There, Dolon feels the dignity and serenity that only one who reigns over millions of lives can have.

“It is an honor to see the great king as a subject of the fatherland.”

“Your merit is great.”

A warm and benevolent smile, as if looking down at your puppy, as if you were looking after your child.

“Here, the bereaved families of the deceased Pitana have come to express their gratitude to you.”

When I turn to the direction Supiluliuma the Great pointed at, I see a weeping lady and children smiling bewildered.

As Dolon approaches, the lady grabs Dolon’s hands and bursts into tears.

“Go, thank you. Really… how should I do this favor…”

“Here is his necklace and ring. Then, I took off the cloak and brought it.”

“Here, the embroidery on this cloak, I-I embroidered it myself for my husband…”

“How great is your heartache. I saw him last. You were brave and strong.

What is your name, by any chance?”

“Nakia.”

“Nakia…? oh my god. Really… is Nakia the correct name?”

“Yes, what happened?”

“I remember the last time he collapsed in a bubble of blood. I remember his last words as I and my attendants stepped aside to guard his body.

‘Nakia.’”

“…”

Upon hearing this, Nakia choked up and couldn’t speak any more, while Dolon lowered her head and shed a tear.

The benevolent Supiluliuma the Great gave them the end to regain their peace of mind, and Dolon and Nakia returned to their respective places.

And the great king beckoned again, and this time gold and silver ornaments waved and numerous retainers and attendants escaped from the throne room.

All that remains is a few elders.

“What do you guys think?”

When the voice of the great king resounded, the elders each lowered their heads and started talking.

“Excluding that Achaean nobleman and his attendant, there are very few survivors of the Hatti and Neshine. And they all say exactly what Dolon said.

. . . exactly the same.”

“For now, there is no physical evidence to support that suspicion.”

“There is no physical evidence to deny it.”

“At times like this, as always, we . . . just wait for the wisdom of the great king.”

The elders add one word each, then shut their mouths and kneel.

Supiluliuma, ruler of a great empire, said with her thoughtful eyes shining.

“…For now, let’s watch.

for now.”