The beautiful Olympiás was sleeping late that morning and all her servants knew better than to disturb her during her late morning slumber. In the privacy of her bed chamber she was floating somewhere between sleep and awake. Her sleeping companion on the other hand was determined to slowly push her legs apart and wormed his smooth trunk in against the warmness of the fork in her lower body. She loved the silky feeling of his smooth skin against hers. His head rested lightly between her generous breasts where she stroked it continuously. The palm of her other hand ran lightly along the curves of his lower body where it laid on top of her. Yet in her dreamy state her mind kept wandering back to the stories and myths of her childhood. Stories about nymphs and gods, warriors and sorcerers, heroes and woman so beautiful that kings would go to war over them.

 

Almost like yesterday she could hear her grandmothers voice secretly whispering to her how Achilles was never really defeated on the battlefield. He was the best of all the heroes, a descendant of the sky gods and protected from harm by the wizardry of his mother. His mother Thetis was one of the nymphs and she protected him by dipping the infant Achilles in the waters of the River Styx. She knew the magical powers of these waters and that it would protect her son from any harm in battle. The nymph Thetis, granddaughter of the sea gods Oceanus and Tethys, was so beautiful that both Zeus and Poseidon were competing for her hand in marriage. When they were reminded about a prophesy that Thetis would give birth to a son that would be greater than his father, they both decided to stand back and allow Peleus, a mortal, to marry her.

 

Her grandmother's eyes would twinkle when she described the handsomeness of the boy Achilles, that was born from the union of a brave king and a very beautiful nymph. His skin was as smooth as marble, his golden hair shone like fire and his remarkable blue eyes glittered with the sparkle of polished sapphire. Achilles was a demigod and his very name and character was the embodiment of the soul of his people and the grief and hardships that they suffered during many generations of warfare. With a brilliant mind and exceptional swiftness in movement, he became a commander at the age of fifteen and went on to fight and win many battles. The curious old lady would sometimes recite some of the poems from the Iliad with such passion that tears would cloud her eyes.

 

“But raging still, amidst his navy sat
The stern Achilles, stedfast in his hate;
Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd;
But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind:
In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll,
And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul.”  

    -From Alexander Pope's translation of Homer's Iliad

The Myrmidons and their commander Achilles played a key role in the campaign against Troy. They were excellent sailors, renowned to be the first to build ships equipped with sails. Achilles commanded fifty of these ships that each carried fifty Myrmidon warriors, a force of 2500 unstoppable men. After the death of Hector king Priamos of Troy was desperate for reinforcements and when a contingent of Amazonian warriors arrived on horseback, they were welcomed like heroes. They were led by their incredibly beautiful and very capable warrior queen, Penthesilea. She and her Amazons killed many Greeks and almost single-handedly helped to win the battle for Troy. Aeneas remarked as follows on the heroism of Penthesilea:

 

“Furious Penthesilea leads a battleline
of Amazons with crescent shields,
and she glows in the middle of
thousands fastening golden belts
around the exposed breast,
female warrior, and the
maiden dares to run with men.”

 

 

 

Check again soon, there will be a lot more about the life and conquests of Alexander the Great.