The Hysminean Rhapsody Ch. 00: Prologue

"Reading that American trash again, boy?"

I turned around, it was the owner of the shop, a portly old man in his seventies with a distinctively long grey beard. Papa Aoidos, that's what we all called him because he was so good at telling stories (I never found out his real name).

"Wonder Woman is my favourite comic, Papa Aoidos!" I didn't think his comment was fair.

"Then you must know her origin, Stefanos. Where is she from?"

"Of course, she is an Amazon from Themiscrya." That was too easy for a big fan like myself.

"Do you know the real history of these Themiscryan Amazons?" The old man pressed on.

I didn't think I understood his question. "No...you mean these female warriors actually existed?"

"Yes, of course they did, in ancient times, long before recorded history, before even the Trojan War, during the dark ages of myths and legends. Have you heard of the Attic War, my boy?"

"No..." I wasn't sure whether I should be embarrassed for my ignorance.

"Young man, you really ought to know the history of your own people better." He grew a little impatient, "Do you ever wonder why there is no mentioning of the Athenians in Homer's epics when we were the strongest polis in Ancient Greece?"

"I don't know, Papa Aoidos. I never thought about that." I got a bit tired of the old man's didactic tone, but something about the fighting Amazons aroused my curiosity.

"It's because Attica was ravaged by those cursed Amazons some two hundred years before the Trojan War, in a brutal conflict that we now call the Attic War. So when Agamemnon rallied the Greek troops at Aulis, Athens was only a tiny village at the time, but a shadow of its former glory." The old man explained and was eager to tell me more, "Melissa, look after the shop for me, would you? I have much to teach this young lad here."

Melissa, his granddaughter, was doing her homework by the counter. She was about my age, a very pretty girl with long shiny black hair. She always wore a short tank top and a pair of fit blue jeans that accentuated her features really well. I had a secret crush on her back then, but I was too shy a boy to talk to her. As the old man clasped my hand and pulled me out of the shop, she gave me a sweet but mischievous smile, teasing at my misfortune of having to be her grandpa's latest target.

"Come boy, let's go to the seaside where we can have some peace." The old man grabbed his cane at the front door and urged me on. I followed as he lumbered down the street faster than I'd ever seen him. Luckily the oceanfront was only one block away. Arriving there, we sat down by the ruins of the ancient Themistoclean Wall. It was a really secluded place back then, unlike the tourist trap it is today.

I let the old man catch his breath a bit before asking, "So Papa Aoidos, who were these Amazons? Were there others besides the Themiscryans? And why did they attack Athens?"

"It's a long story, my dear boy. Let me trace back to the very beginning. Originally, there was only one race of the Amazons, the Tauri, dwelling far north of the Black Sea, in the frozen lands around Lake Maeotis (modern day Crimea). They were a small tribe of Scythians, but made up exclusively of women. Their hair were jet black, just like all the other ancient races in Scythia and Greece. One day, as the Sun God Helios was driving his golden chariot across the sky, he saw Neaera, a Tauri warrioress with unsurpassed beauty. He instantly fell in love, but she fled from him. Helios pursued her relentlessly northward, across the frozen plains, until they reached the icy glaciers. There he finally caught up to her and subdued her. For six months each year, they made heated love. And together, she bore him twelve daughters, known as the Heliades (daughters of Helios)."

"And they were all blondes, I guess?" A smarty-pants at my young age, I could not help but interject.

"Indeed, just like the Sun God himself. And when the golden-haired sisters grew up, each a remarkable warrioress, they returned to the Tauri. But the austere tribe elders would not accept these exotic beauties. In search of new land, they headed south, across the Black Sea, and founded Themiscrya along the Thermodon River. Hence the birth of the Themiscryan Amazons. In time, they grew to be the largest Amazon tribe. But ages passed, our Greeks ancestors had made no contact with them. All until that fateful year at the Eleusinian Games (in Eleusis just west of Athens). These sacred games were held once every four years when warriors across the Greek world tested their might against one another. But this year, the Amazons from Themiscrya came to participate. The Greeks marvelled at these foreign female warriors, as they were more accustomed to the submissive women of their own race, weak and docile, relegated to doing only household chores. So when the blonde-haired Queen Parithyia appeared before them in all her beauty and vigour, they tripped over themselves to challenge her for a wrestling match, hoping to have a chance at taming her wild spirit. At last, it was Prince Diokles of Athens, a formidable warrior, who drew the straw. The contest was hard fought, one for the ages, but the prince eventually succumbed to the young queen. Conceding far more than the match though, Diokles fell head over heels for Parithyia. Yet she spurned him along with countless other Greek suitors, for you see my lad, the queen's virginity is sacred to the Amazons. Finally, the foolish prince was overcome by lust. On a hunting trip, he tried to overpower her by force. But Parithyia thwarted him, and this time she did not show mercy on him. The prince was brutally castrated for his transgression. Disgraced, Diokles turned his infatuation for her into a sickly obsession for revenge and humiliation. He schemed day and night, until one evening, with the help from a mysterious sorceress, he took into possession the queen's perizoma — "

"What's a perizoma, Papa Aoidos?"

"A small piece of undergarment made of coarse linen and leopard skin, my boy. The Amazons wore it to cover up their shame when hunting or wrestling."

"So it's like a thong?" My interest piqued at the thought of these ancient beauties, half naked, battling for supremacy.

"Yes, Stefanos, exactly a thong, the most closely-guarded piece of clothing on a woman. And Diokles dangled it right in front of a boisterous Athenian crowd, claiming it as a trophy of his victory. The vengeful prince weaved a fantastical tale of his supposed rematch with the Amazon queen. Every move of the fight he described in vivid detail, until ultimately Parithyia cried her surrender. Without mercy, or so Diokles boasted, he stripped the defeated beauty and conquered her, taking away her virginity. None of it true of course, but the naive crowd cheered, ready to believe anything. And they all gawked at the lost pride of this foreign queen, clutched in the hands of the Athenian prince, deprived of its womanly mystique. Imagine the outrage, my boy, when Parithyia found out about this in the Piraeus where the Amazons encamped. For five centuries since the founding of the Amazon nation, no man had ever laid eyes on an Amazonian queen in nude and lived to talk about it. You see, the Amazons viewed the chastity of their queen as divine authority, and what Diokles did was the ultimate humiliation for Parithyia. Enraged, she picked up her bronze sword and stormed out. But there stood her trusted companion Hekate. She reminded her how vastly outnumbered they were in Attica. At last she convinced the livid queen to return to Themiscrya first, so she can raise an army to reclaim her honour. Meanwhile, back in Athens, Diokles capitulated under the pressure from his father Creon, the wise king of Athens, who thought it foolish to bring death upon thousands of people over such senseless pride. So the prince sent forth an apology and invited Parithyia to talk over the terms of peace on neutral ground. The place chosen was Delos, an island in the middle of the Cyclades, sacred to the harrowing spirits of the Hysminai. Have you been to Delos, lad?"

"Yes. My father took us there on a vacation trip just last year. But I didn't learn anything about the Hysminai. What were they?" My mind frantically searched for the term but came up blank.

"These were the ancient female spirits of combat, Stefanos. They were feared by all, mankind and gods alike. Warriors dared not set foot on the mysterious island fully armed, worried these spirits would turn them against one another. Only a few priestesses served these spirits, making Delos an ideal ground for warring tribes to swear pacts under oath. And so Parithyia sailed for Delos with only Hekate by her side. For days, nothing was heard from them, until finally news traveled to Themiscrya that their queen had disappeared and Hekate was captured alive by the Athenians. Enraged at the betrayal by the Greeks, the Amazons assembled their troops and summoned all their allies across the Black Sea. They elected Marpesia, the younger sister of Parithyia, as their new queen and leader of the coalition. A thousand ships were launched across the Hellespont, as the Amazons formally declared war on Attica and our glorious city Athens. So began the brutal Attic War, my boy, that lasted for six excruciating years. These golden-haired savages were ruthless. Thousands of our bravest warriors fell under their spears and arrows. But the impregnable high walls of the city withstood their repeated assaults. King Creon pleaded for mercy and peace. Nevertheless the Amazons would not be appeased, not even when Marpesia killed Diokles in single combat. In the end, as fate would have it, our city fell to the enemy through the betrayal of Princess Semele, the half-sister of Diokles. The massacre that followed was well-known to the ancients as the Rape of Athens. Just imagine, Stefanos, for seven days, houses burned, temples looted, women and children were taken as slaves while helpless babies hurled to the earth in the red barbarity of war. The streets were ladened with withered up corpses of men drained empty of their male essence. Oh, the carnage we suffered. It was the worst destruction brought upon our city in its entire history..." The old man looked to be shaken up a bit, as if he had lived through the experience.

Mesmerised by the tale, I was anxious to learn more. "Papa Aoidos, please tell me more about the war, and how they fought. Why did Princess Semele betray the Athenians? And what happened on Delos? Did the Amazons find Parithyia?" I bombarded the old man with endless questions.

"Slow down, my boy. Six long years of war...the sweat, tears, and blood...the love, treachery, and grief...oh how do I even begin? To tell the whole story would take weeks and months. Perhaps some day in the future, Stefanos. But for now, would you like to listen to the Hysminean Rhapsody instead?"

"What is the Hysminean Rhapsody?"

"It is an epic poem that took place in the aftermath of the war, a tale of fierce female combat - long, dark, and twisting. When the Amazons sacked Athens and freed Hekate from her imprisonment, she recounted to them her ordeal, and they decided to go back to the sacred island of Delos in quest for their lost queen Parithyia. These were ten greatest female warriors surviving the war, led by their new queen Marpesia. The poem tells of their confrontation with the priestesses of Hysminai, the ensuing conflicts and their ultimate demise on Delos." Pausing here for a moment, the old man hesitated as if regretting a bit his hastiness in offering me the tale. He looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "My dear Stefanos, this is a sombre epic that reveals only the darkest nature of women, with their uncontrollable lust, envy, and rage. You will never look at the fair sex the same way again. Are you sure you are ready to hear what is beyond your tender age?"

His words only added fuel to my fire. I nodded my head eagerly, innocent of what was to come. But there was a long break of silence. We just stared blankly off into the distance, where the deep blue Aegean glimmered under the morning sun. Cool ocean breeze brushed gently against our faces. Amidst the ancient ruins of that bygone world we sat, lulled by the soothing sound of waves crashing repeatedly into those ageless shorelines. Time itself seemed to have stopped.

Sudden squawks of two squabbling seagulls above our head broke the tranquility. As if yielding to a divine omen, the old man finally let out a long sigh, and with his husky voice, embarked us on our journey to the captivating land of catfighting.