Sparta has always been divided in two, since the rise of the sons of Oebalus, Tyndareus and Ikarios.
Since then, they parted the kingdom. From Zeus' line Tyndareus held Laconia's ports, of beautiful walls and Ikarios, swift in race, rejoiced in the hills of his part as the proud eagle oversees the lands below its nest.
The moment the servants's traffic halted inside the hallow walls of the younger brother's palace. The heralds of god-like Tyndareus, entered the abode of swift-footed Ikarios, his brother.
— Oh Brother! I bring you good news, for as you know doubt and fear crept inside my heart for a time, forcing it to despair over the situation of my dear daughter since that nameless one.
And black ire adorned Tyndareus's winged words. But the younger son of Oebelus, best in races
— May Zeus, King of Kings and all that's below the Bronze-like firmamekt, find your swiftness commendable, brother.
Tyndareus' heart still hummed as youth did once in his frame, for all he seemed as the sempiternous gods had stripped the old from the other son of Oebalus.— If I did not knew you, Ikarios, I would even read you as enemy, ready to send my bones to the earth, nurishment of men.
But still the words of his older brother did not moved the cold heart of Ikarius. This one ordered from his slaves to fetch a chair, formidable in shape and shine. Carved from the finest of ash trees of Lakonia, crowned with gold carvings of a lion eating the tender fawl which in spring ought to become majestic stags, prey for the lions and men alike. This was the chair divine-like Tyndareus sat upon, at the right of his brother good in assembly.
And so did Tyndareus, reclined near his blood brother did the other's disposition turned
And sit for all your good words seem too good to be true? Has your divine daughter found comparable husband to her? Where is the groom, dressed in the coustomary ways? Or the dowry from his side, to fill up your treasury brother? —
And so did Tyndareus, dear to Zeus, spoke this winged words— Oh brother, Ikarios, hear these words that in my wretched heart turned to a source of joy, for these words had srpung me from the grips of the Dead, and I now see the world the same way mortal men see it, for I have been blind of the colour of thid word. Don't you get it brother? For I have now see the whiteness in snow and the wool alike that my wife, with such enthusiam she weaves. Or the verdure from the dark earth that springs from its bones. Oh brother for I has been blind and now I finally see, and the name of my saviour, of the one I desire good fate, is the divien like, muck talked and the ingenious Laertíades..
And so the lips of Ikarios, formidable in speed, tensed as the bow bends to strenght. For he had lived enough to understand that behind pleasentries the darkest venoms could hide.— Has a god in shape or form replaced by melancholic brother? For you do not move like him all this time since the Cloud gatherer, blessed your halls with his seed. Tell me then oh father of many and brother of mine. What god or charlatan has troubled your mind, dear brother? It has been since our return, when in the golden throne you took for wife the daughter of Thestius, Leda. Speak brother. For no man could possible hold the keys to the happiness that has been evading you since the birth of your children.
And so anger brewed in Tynadareus heart for his brother's insolence— Cursed one, you viper born from our mother, serpent that in womb I had to kill you. You dare to taint my happiness with your insolence and depreciation of the one that has been able to give me some respite, brother. You do not remember the times you cried at my legs when we were away? You do not remember the way I treated you as a mother treats its own child? Insolent brat when I'm telling you my joys.
And with that Ikarios' disposition eased as honey sweetens even the bitterest of meals. His graceful arms pushed the other king into a respectable position— Brother, do not let my curiosity blind your joy, I am truly happy your mood has straightened from a rowdy and umpredictable stream fed by snow to the steadier course I have always know. I worry just for that those sweet words from the Ithakan, with many wiles, had cloud your judgment and you may not distinguish anymore between black and white.
Black bile rose to be quelmed inside the husband of Leda, and so he reclined and joyful laughter broke the silence inside the crimson columnates of Ikarios' palace— You truly were gifted by Talia, Ikarios, truly.
And lauggter and merriment rang across well fortified Sparta, even more when the veil of the night dragged on between them. For they didn't need to talk much, as the dog and the shepherd understand eachother in the mountain, did the minds of the brothers understood eachother.
But curiosity buzzed inside swift-footed Ikarios, champion at race. His hand left the kratera of sweet watered wine aside. He clasped his hands and fine meals appeared in front of well fed Tyndareus who just nodded to such exquisite banquet laid upon him. For greed nor hunger overtook his steady and noble heart.
And Ikarios sent these winged words to his old brother— And what did he said to you? What words were neccesary to steady your mind, oh much suffering Tyndareus?.
— She, of lovely braids and white armed Helene, my dear daughter, is the one to choose her husband.
— Understandable for her worth, coming from yours. For you raised her as your own, in your house, in your abode, Tyndareus and raised her as your own Klytmenestra. All this? Without any strings? Had the Inmortal Gods who ruled Olympus from their golden aboves, truly smiled upon you? Or have they just hidden invisible weapons that they will unveil as the sun dissperses the black nighted fog that Notos makes on the southern slopes? Noble shepherd's nightmare and thief's delight?.
Spoken those winged words, did Tyndareus's smile faltered— Brother, there was one condition I hastely agreed upon. — And he turned to hug his brother's legs as the other did mamy seasons ago. — Remember, from the day you were born how I loved and raised you, oh magnanimous Ikarios, for I am just a mortal man as you and have a feeble heart. Do not forget my mortality, equal to yours and the many ways the desperate cling to their saviours.
For I just drowned much ingenious Odysseus, with many gifts but his cold heart unmoved with one steady condition. As the certain arrow own goal is to find its mark.
And he took Ikarios's hands— Brother, please, understand my plight.
— Brother, what have you done? Speak! For such stammering is not of yours. Has this rufian and scheemer just bought your soul with sweet and hollow words? What part of your kingdom has you lost to those western mockeries of men and its fruits? Tell me, brother, what danger had this abominition past fertile Elis and sandy Pylos has brought to you?
— Brother, I have not lost material possesions, nor my house is in danger, nor yours.
— Speak then, Tyndareus, for you are playing with my hospitality too much, claiming the shape of my own dear brother. Speak, god, speak.
— Brother, much praised Odysseus, spawn of the Argonaut Laertes, ruler of forested Neritón, and steep Ithaka and adminsiter of the western isles had only one ask.
And the heart of Ikarios started to become stone while his appaerance remained that of a listening man.— What then, Tyndareus, dear to Zeus and dear brother of mine?.
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