Dawn soon came, but dark clouds hung overhead. The Greeks waited for the Trojans to attack, and as they did, it began to rain. First lightly, then more strongly, then the water turned red, and Zeus showered them with blood. Eris stood at the prow of one of the ships, screaming in an ecstasy of fear and fury. Terror spread among the Greeks.
The Trojans charged, led by the mighty Hector himself, and they swept down on the Greeks like a sudden wind on the sea. Shield crashed against shield, sword against sword, chariot against chariot, as men fell dead and were trampled in the blood-stained mud.
Agamemnon fought fiercely, cutting his way through the Trojans, his armor covered in gore. No one could stand in his way, not even Antenor's son, whose neck Agamemnon cut. Agamemnon never saw the dead man's brother charge at him. All he felt was an incredible pain in his arm as the flesh was ripped off it. With a roar, he turned and killed Antenor's other son. The pain was unbearable, as sharp as labor pains, and he retreated from the battlefield.
"Agamemnon is wounded," shouted Hector to his men. "Victory will be ours."
Diomedes turned, and raised his spear to throw it at Hector. But Paris picked up an arrow and, firing it at Diomedes. The arrow pierced his foot and pinned it into the ground. Diomedes gasped and fell to one knee in pain, as another Trojan charged with his sword. Then suddenly Odysseus was in front of him, holding his shield in front of Diomedes.
"Onto your chariot," said Odysseus. "Get to the healer quickly.
Then Odysseus was alone. After seeing Agamemnon wounded the Greeks had fled, and now, surrounded on all sides by Trojan warriors, each hungry for his death, there was no way he could get back to the Greek lines. Like a wild boar surrounded by hunting dogs, he fought furiously for his life. He called for help, as he parried another blow. But no one came. He slipped in the mud, and a spear went ramming into his side. The world before his eyes began to darken.
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