A to Z: Idomeneus

 

    Hmm.  You know, I bet I did an earlier April A-to-Z entry on Idomeneus.  (It's hard to come up with I-names, after all!)  Oh well.  This one is categorically different, as a good chunk of it will be talking about something I hadn't written yet the last time I took part in this challenge!  😆

    So.  Basics.  Idomeneus is the king of Crete at the time of the Trojan War.  He's a grandson of King Minos, and a cousin of Agamemnon and Menelaos.  He's a pretty tough warrior, but not quite in the top tier.  Frequently accompanied into battle by his nephew Meriones, who is particularly accomplished as an archer as well as with a spear.

    The main place he stands out in the Iliad is during the battle when the Trojans are burning the Achaian camp, when he pretty much stomps all over Deiphobos (who is both frightened of him and trying to dismiss him as irrelevant at the same time), only to be wounded by Aineias, who at least respected him as an opponent.

    As to what happened to him after the war, let's go straight to the quotes for that, because today I want to focus on my interactive fiction game Are You A Better General Than Agamemnon? in which you play a random, generic king no one's ever heard of, who is for who-knows-what-reason offered the reins of the Achaian army when Agamemnon suddenly drops out right as the fleet is about to sail from Aulis.  There are ten decision points for each of the ten years (though some of them lead to further decisions within the decision point), and I'm sorry to say a lot of them actually don't matter in the least.  😰  (Even sorrier to say that by the time you get to the last two or three years, the game is buggy as heck.  It was doing all sorts of strange stuff like forgetting Achilles was alive and sending Odysseus on missions when he'd been sent back to Ithaca in disgrace. 😰  I had to replay the whole game to get quotes for this post, 'cause trying to extract them from the Twine program files is really awkward considering how much code some of the text is buried under.)  Anyway!  I tried my best, back when I was making the game, to give a lot of alternate possibilities for individual events, leading to some very different outcomes...meaning that when the war is successfully won, the game gives you a long scroll telling you what happened to each character in your playthrough, and what happened to them when Agamemnon was running the show.  And this is what that said about Idomeneus' original fate:

         Under Agamemnon, Idomeneus returned home safely, but traditions vary as to what happened next: some say he made a foolish promise to sacrifice whatever first greeted him (which ended up, of course, being his child), others say that his wife betrayed him and he had to flee, and others say he ruled on in peace. Whatever the truth of his fate was, more than a thousand years later, the locals would point out a building they said was his tomb at Knossos.

    Yeah, not terribly exciting.  (Strange side note:  those same locals also claimed his nephew Meriones was buried in the same tomb.  I'm not sure why.)  That level of variation in post-war fates is strangely not unusual.  A lot of the others who fought in the Trojan War had both "happily ever after" and "ran fleeing from an adulterous wife" endings.  Large numbers of the latter ended up in Italy, for whatever reason. 🤷🏻‍♀️

    Anyway, the difficulty of writing about someone like Idomeneus is that he hasn't got all that much personality in the original work.  (By which I mean the Iliad, of course.  Most other ancient works that mention Idomeneus are mythographic works that don't go into detail about anyone's personality.)  Still, since he's one of the bigger players, he comes up pretty frequently in the game.

    The first major event involving him is almost immediately after the Achaian fleet lands on the Trojan shore.  At that time, in the original myth, Menelaos and Odysseus went to the city to make one last try at diplomacy.  It, needless to say, did not work.  😅  Anyway, in the game, you choose who accompanies Menelaos on the expedition, and Idomeneus is one of the options.  This is the first part of what happens if you select him...

        As Menelaos and Idomeneus prepare to depart, you call Agamemnon's herald Talthybios over and instruct him to attend upon them in their errand. He swears to report to you immediately upon his return to the camp and faithfully relate everything that should happen in the city.
         They are gone overnight--as you were expecting, given how long it would take them to reach Ilios on foot from camp--and it is late in the day when Talthybios finally returns to your tent.
         "We have returned from the city, Lord Creon," the herald informs you.
         "So I can see. I do not hear any jubilation in the camp, so I assume the mission did not succeed?"
         "Indeed not, my lord. We arrived at the city gates shortly before nightfall, and were admitted into the home of Antenor, one of King Priam's trusted advisors. First thing in the morning, he accompanied us to see the king, and Menelaos stated his case, requesting the return of his wife, and promising to do without the gold that was stolen along with her, in recompense for the lives taken on the beach. Idomeneus also spoke, as Menelaos' kinsman, and [as] he who had been host to the funeral games that had given Alexandros the opportunity to thus rob Menelaos of gold and wife. His words were measured, just and wise, and I was certain they would sway the Trojan court to agree to Menelaos' requests." He sighs sadly. "We were sent back to the home of Antenor to await Priam's decision. Much time later, Antenor returned, full of worry. He reported to us that Alexandros arrived in the council chamber with Helen at his side, and that the prince's honeyed words convinced the Trojan elders to turn on us with a murderous attack. Antenor came to warn us and help us escape the city alive."
         "And?" you prompt, when he does not seem to want to continue.

    Thus far, aside from Idomeneus' contribution, this follows what happened in the actual myth.  But--even though this is still super early in the game--there are actually two possible outcomes to these events.  In most cases, this would be the result of sending Idomeneus along with Menelaos:

         "Idomeneus said that he felt a measure of blame for what Alexandros had done. If he had followed what his deceased uncle would likely have desired, and not invited the sons of Aerope to his funeral games, then Helen could not have been stolen away. So he did not wish to run, but to stay and fight. Menelaos did not want to see his kinsman risk his life, and they argued long enough that we could hear the approaching princes in the street. Antenor urged us to flee at once, and Idomeneus insisted that Menelaos and I leave, while he remained to delay the enemy, promising he would escape on his own as soon as he was able. Alas, though we waited long in hiding outside the city walls, he did not emerge. Antenor sent word by one of his children that Prince Hector, though grievously wounded by Idomeneus, succeeded in killing the Cretan king."

    However!  The first (proper) decision you make in the game is who to have be the first man to disembark when the fleet arrives.  (Due to the fact that Thetis had warned/commanded Achilles not to disembark first, as the first to disembark would be the first to die.)  If you order Achilles or Aias of Salamis to disembark first, they're still the first to die, but they take Hector with them!  In which case, the result of sending Idomeneus with Menelaos is drastically altered...

         "Idomeneus said that he felt a measure of blame for what Alexandros had done. If he had followed what his deceased uncle would likely have desired, and not invited the sons of Aerope to his funeral games, then Helen could not have been stolen away. So he did not wish to run, but to stay and fight. Menelaos did not want to see his kinsman risk his life, and they argued long enough that we could hear the approaching princes in the street. Antenor urged us to flee at once, and Idomeneus insisted that Menelaos and I leave, while he remained to delay the enemy, promising he would escape on his own as soon as he was able. After we waited in hiding quite a long while, Idomeneus finally emerged from the city, supported by one of Antenor's sons. He is badly wounded, but he proudly reported that he had killed Deiphobos, the second most powerful of Priam's sons."

    To be honest, until I replayed it to get these quotes, I had forgotten just how much variation I had managed to put in this game.  I really need to give it a proper glow-up at some point.  (And make it actually keep track of troop numbers and rations and such so that the smaller decisions will actually matter...)

    The next big moment for Idomeneus is the introduction of Aineias as an enemy.  This is one where the main event isn't much altered by who you send, just the report on it:  Achilles comes back laughing at what a joke Aineias is, most of the others report him as a threat...and Odysseus managed to capture him alive so you can take him to Lemnos as a slave.  😰  (Poor Aineias!  But Odysseus has a right to be pissed at him:  the Aeneid for centuries got better rep than the Odyssey despite being categorically worse as an epic.  But Virgil's Aeneas is actually a very different character from Homer's Aineias...)  Anyway, Idomeneus' reaction to Aineias is about typical...(though it should be slightly different if Hector is already dead at this point...)

         Once you are able to get past the celebrating soldiers, you ask Idomeneus if he has anything to report about the battle.
         Idomeneus nods, frowning. "Yes, I'm afraid so. The number of guards set to protect the town was small, but they were led by a particularly difficult foe who I would say is second only to Hector. It was only with difficulty that Meriones and I were able to drive him away."
         "That's alarming news," you say. "Who is he? Did you find out anything about him?"
         "He introduced himself as Aineias, son of Anchises and Aphrodite."
         "Aphrodite?" you repeat, astonished. You rarely ever hear of goddesses deigning to share their beds with mortal men. Gods and mortal maids, sure, that happens all the time, but goddesses and mortal men? Aside from the odd case of Peleus and Thetis, you can't even come up with another instance.
         "That's what he said," Idomeneus assures you, "though I don't know if it's true or not. I believe Anchises is a member of one of the lesser branches of the Trojan royal family, so this Aineias is potentially an heir to the throne if we should exterminate all of Priam's sons. I don't know if that makes him more of a threat, or a potential ally, someone who might be willing to turn traitor in exchange for the removal of those standing between him and the kingship."
         "We'll have to keep all that in mind whenever we might end up facing him in the future," you agree.

    For the most part, the game didn't offer me a lot of chances to characterize the various warriors (especially since it was for a game jam, so I was having to write and program the whole thing in less than a month), but I did manage to throw in a little about them as characters.  For example, in the second half of the war, your character begins to grow listless, and one of the random events to fill out the annual ten decisions includes things like going for a ride across the Trojan countryside (I recommend it!) and sending for a bard to distract you from your woes.  If you send for a bard, your character will be treated to a random song about the glories of heroes past.  One of them is described thusly...

         The bard sings you an Athenian epic about the triumph of Theseus over the Minotaur in the labyrinth hidden beneath the palace at Knossos. You reflect with a grim, inward chuckle that he would not sing the song so boldly if Idomeneus could hear, given that the Cretan king has always denied that his grandfather ever did anything so monstrous (and even more so denied that his grandmother ever gave birth to a half-bull monster) and insisted that the Athenians sent in tribute merely served a year at one of the temples in Knossos and were always safely returned afterward.

    (The insistence that Theseus was a liar is a detail that carried over into the Atalanta and Ariadne books...)

    Of course, by the time you get to the events of the Iliad, I was so crunched for time that there are massive errors everywhere.  😭  Also part of the crunch was that I was relying more heavily on cribbing (read: outright copy-pasting) from my old NaNoWriMo project Ilios.  Which led to scenes like the below, which was also me cribbing heavily from the Iliad, only not as good.  😰

         You set out across the seething battlefield, seeking out Idomeneus. You find him just as he is letting out a mighty roar, a fierce battle cry as he leaps forward into the Trojan horde. Though he entered battle in such a hurry that he left his helmet behind and the foe can see that his hair is streaked with gray, still they fall back, seized in their hearts with fear of the godlike son of Deucalion. Surely, you have chosen the right man to stir up the Achaian troops to fight on to victory!
         By the time you can get anywhere near him, Idomeneus is locked into a fearsome battle with Deiphobos and his men, and has been for some time, as you had to fight many enemies yourself before you could draw close. Idomeneus throws his spear at Deiphobos, who hides behind the white circle of his shield, letting the spear fly over his head. The throw was an impressive one, and Idomeneus' spear strikes [a different] Trojan in the heart, and as he falls to the ground, the end of the spear quivers in time with the beating of his heart until that finally stops as his life flees his body.
         "Will we continue on in this way?" Idomeneus asks, looking at Deiphobos. "Another of your side has gone to the house of Hades, three now for the one you have slain. Do you wish to continue this cowardly game, or will you finally fight me as one man to another? Do not tell me that Deiphobos is as much of a woman as Alexandros!"
         "I fear nothing, old man!" Deiphobos retorts, growling in his hatred. "You will learn what happens when you challenge your younger and better foes to single combat! You may be a king where you come from, but here you're just another foe too old to lift a sword with any strength!"
         "Do not judge me so hastily, boy," Idomeneus snarls, with a cold smile that must instill fear in all lesser men, "before you learn just what manner of son of Zeus you see before you! For in a line unbroken, I come directly from the seed of Kronion himself! On Europa was Minos fathered, and he took as his wife Pasiphae, daughter of the radiant Helios, and begat upon her noble Deucalion, my father! And now I stand here upon the Trojan shores, a bane to your father and all his people! Now, take up your weapon and face me if you dare!"
         Deiphobos stares at him with an unwavering jaw for just a moment, then takes off running back through his thronging allies. Shouting curses upon the coward's name, Idomeneus runs after him, and you have no alternative but to run after Idomeneus, but the Trojans fight as cornered beasts and do everything in their power to prevent your passage further.

    And it kept going and going and going and going....and because it was so badly programmed it even kept going into a scene that was only supposed to show up if both Aineias and Deiphobos were dead or wounded... 😭

    But there's not much to say about the IF version of Idomeneus beyond this...so let's talk about Idomeneus's appearance in (the current, which is to say ten-year-old draft of) book five of The God Killers!

    So, in book five, for plot reasons, Atalanta, Ariadne and Eurysakes find themselves headed to Crete.  On the voyage, Ariadne is thinking she had better not use her actual name while there, given that the original Ariadne was a daughter of King Minos who betrayed her father for Theseus...who then promptly abandoned her.  (And then later married one of her younger sisters. 😰)  But Eurysakes tells her she doesn't need to:

            “That won’t be necessary,” he assured her.  “Idomeneus is kind.  And thinks well of others.  He will be flattered by your name.”
            “I find that hard to believe,” Ariadne sighed.  She couldn’t see it as anything other than an insult to his family’s honor.
            Eurysakes set a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “Don’t worry so much,” he told her, before returning to his place at the oars.
            Ariadne could not help but be annoyed by the advice—or was it an order?—as she returned to the chariot with her meager breakfast.  How could she not worry?  There were so many things that could go wrong!  The fact that the original Ariadne was so well known was only because of the story of the Minotaur and the Labyrinth, and the adventures of Theseus in defeating same.  But Idomeneus insisted that those stories were false, so the mere fact that his aunt had such fame was in itself an insult to his honor!  How could he be anything but unfriendly to them if he knew her name?
            The longer she thought about it, the more certain she became that she would have to give a false name when they met the king, and before either of her companions could move to introduce her.  She was still determined to act on that by the time they came in to land on the beach on the south side of Crete.

    (Of course, technically, Knossos should not exist in this period.  According to the archaeological evidence I found, it had burned down much earlier (and the revival of the town of Knossos was after the period in which I set the novels), but the myths all place Idomeneus in Knossos just like his grandfather, so...I had to opt for accuracy to the myth over accuracy to archaeology.  It ain't like I'm trying to write historical fiction here:  I'm writing myth-based fantasy.)

    Anyway, Ariadne isn't given a chance to intervene regarding her identity...

            Rather than heading to the agora or the docks to recruit new sailors, Eurysakes steered the chariot towards the fabulous palace that dominated the city.  Somewhat to Ariadne’s surprise, she heard the guards announcing Eurysakes’ arrival even before they had dismounted from the chariot.  Did they recognize him?  He had said he had been to Knossos before, but considering that would have been before he had traded his Cypriot armor for [even more fabulous armor], surely they should have been less certain of his identity.  Yes, his size was unusual, but it wasn’t unique.  His brother was nearly as large as he was, after all.
            They had barely entered the palace courtyard when an old man also entered the courtyard from the other side, accompanied by a considerable retinue.  The man’s age was difficult for Ariadne to determine; his face was lined, and his hair snowy, but he moved with a vigor that was otherwise incongruous with his appearance.  Judging by his regal attire, and the way the men following him gazed at him so respectfully, she took him immediately to be King Idomeneus, still among the living after all.
            As soon as he approached them, he set his hands on Eurysakes’ shoulders with a fond smile.  “You grow more like your noble father every time I see you, Eurysakes!” he exclaimed.  “And in this armor, you truly look more like a god than a man!  I do not doubt your father is bursting with pride in all you have achieved.”
            “Thank you,” Eurysakes said, bowing his head.  “You are very kind.”
            “You should come visit more often,” the king continued.  “I do not doubt that my son will welcome your friendship and wisdom when he inherits my kingdom.”
            “That will be years away,” Eurysakes replied.  Ariadne presumed that was the standard polite response, because from the look of him, the king should have stepped down at least ten years ago, no matter how lively and vigorous he seemed at the present moment.
            Idomeneus laughed, presumably knowing that Eurysakes’ words were hollow, and released his shoulders, then moved past him towards where Ariadne and Atalanta stood side by side, with Atalanta resting part of her weight on Ariadne’s shoulders.  The king smiled at them fondly.  “He spoke truly,” he said, nodding his head.  “I had doubted his word, but to see the pair of you!  I am quite glad to meet you both.”
            “Wha-what?” Atalanta said, sounding almost afraid.
            The king smiled at her gently.  “Odysseus visited me not long ago, and he told me all about the events in Athens, and Eurysakes’ unexpected comrades,” he explained.  Ariadne felt something clench up inside her angrily, but she was fairly sure that she managed to keep it off her face.  “I am delighted to know that the seed of Achilles still walks on these mortal planes,” he said, taking hold of Atalanta’s free hand.  “And from what I hear, you seem to be living up to your father’s might with astonishing ability.”
            Atalanta blushed dramatically, and shook her head weakly.  “No, I…I’m not that…”

    This is something of a running theme, actually...no matter where the girls go after book three, as long as there's a veteran of the Trojan War there, they've already heard all about the girls from Odysseus.  🤣  Still unnerves them each and every time it happens, of course.

    Anyway, to talk about most of the rest of Idomeneus' role in book five, I'll have to spoil something revealed in book three...though probably anyone who's read book two would not actually be surprised by it.  See, in The Golden God of Aiolia, Atalanta briefly meets a red-haired young Nereid who's very angry at her for no particular reason, and complains about her grandmother sending her to watch over Atalanta, etc.  Atalanta doesn't get it until book three, when she meets the Nereid again...and also meets her grandmother, Thetis.  Thetis explains that upon Achilles' death, she took Briseis with her back to her father's palace beneath the sea, knowing that Briseis was finally pregnant with Achilles' child.  Only then the child was a girl, and Briseis died giving birth to her (as Achilles had predicted in the prologue to book two), and not knowing what else to do with her, Thetis merely named the girl Pyrrha and made her immortal as a proper Nereid.  Only Pyrrha is pretty ticked off that her half-sister Atalanta is suddenly so very loved by their grandmother, and getting all this attention and respect as Achilles' daughter, and...she's a very bitter, angry character, tbh, though I love her anyway.

    So, Pyrrha shows up at Knossos and immediately starts a quarrel with Atalanta.  After they've been arguing for a while, Idomeneus steps in.

            Before Atalanta could retort, King Idomeneus suddenly moved between them.  “This argument must be making your father’s shade weep,” he told them both.  “Sisters should not speak to each other thus.”
            “Keep out of this,” Pyrrha growled at him.  “I’m better than she is, and—”
            “So you keep saying,” the king replied, with a smooth smile.  “But can you prove it?”
            “Of course I can!”
            “Then do so.  The ships will not be ready to sail for several days yet.  We’ll hold an athletic competition tomorrow.  If you can win more events than your sister, then you can continue to believe yourself her superior,” he told her calmly.

    I have no words for this bit...

            The king laughed.  “I’ll make the arrangements for the games, then.  Of course, they will be open to all who wish to compete, unless you object?”
            Atalanta shook her head.  “No, of course not.  It would have to be more pleasant for the onlookers if there are other competitors.”
            “Given that most of the onlookers would be men, I’m not so sure of that,” the king chuckled, before leaving with his retinue.  It took Atalanta several lengthy moments to understand his meaning, and once she did, she found herself blushing dramatically.  What an inappropriate thing for an aged king to say!

    I might not include it in the final draft.  (Or I might.  Hard to tell.  I mean, it is funny, if slightly pervy...)

    The games really show how good Idomeneus is at working the crowd, but trying to show that would make a very long quote that wouldn't actually be all that interesting out of context.  (Actually, even in context it's not all that interesting in its current form.  It's a ten year old draft, after all!)  But Pyrrha doesn't show up on time, waiting to make a more impressive entry after most of the king's speeches are done with.

            “Our fourth young person has arrived late,” the king said, his voice flat and strained, as if he wanted to be criticizing her severely.  “As her words imply, she, too, is a daughter of Achilles, though she has been given the secret of life as a Nereid, and lives beneath the waves with her divine grandmother.”
            “I’m divine, too,” Pyrrha told him coldly, as she approached the platform.
            “Being immortal is not the same thing as being divine,” the king reproached her.  “Saying such prideful things will only serve to enrage the gods.”
            “I’m not afraid of them,” Pyrrha replied lightly.
            “That’s a little too much like your father,” King Idomeneus said, sounding concerned.
            “Huh?  But…surely he feared the gods!” Atalanta objected, horrified.  How could he not?!  He was descended from Zeus himself!
            “Before losing his eternal companion Patroclos, he feared the gods just as any man does,” the king assured her gently.  “But afterwards…he lost many things along with his devoted companion.  Proper reverence for the gods was one of them.”
            “Oh.  I guess I can understand that,” Atalanta answered sadly.  If anything ever happened to Ariadne…but that was exactly why she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her!
            “How pathetic,” Pyrrha commented.  “Mortals die all the time.  Why would he waste so much of his attention on one?”
            Both of the king’s fists clenched up, and for a moment his face was white with rage, as if he was barely containing every fiber of his being.  “Your father was also mortal,” he pointed out in a voice that shook with anger.

    In the spear-throwing contest in the athletic games, there are five targets and only three prizes, so winning isn't just dictated by being able to throw furthest, but also by getting the chance to throw before the three furthest targets are already struck.  (In the current draft, I forgot to specify that a target is no longer acceptable after it's been hit once, so I'll have to remember to change that up in the next draft.)  Anyway, there are seven contestants in that particular event, and Pyrrha drew the last slot.

            The next man to throw aimed at the second place target, but missed it.  The man after him—the last one before Pyrrha’s turn!—just barely managed to hit the second place target.  So Pyrrha already looked like she was burning with anger even before she threw her spear.  She struck the third place target with ease, of course, but then she complained vociferously to the king that this wasn’t a fair contest, because it was as much about luck as it was about skill!  The king smoothly replied that in battle, luck was just as important as skill, as any seasoned warrior would assure her.

    And Idomeneus would know about the importance of luck in battle:  in the Iliad, Deiphobos tries to kill Idomeneus with a thrown spear, but he misses and kills Ascalaphos, son of Ares, instead!  Anyway, after the spears came boxing, and Idomeneus forbade the girls from taking part in the boxing event at all, leaving Atalanta frustrated at being denied the opportunity.  (Eurysakes of course won the boxing, the only event he took part in at all, because he doesn't want to stain the competition between Atalanta and Pyrrha by defeating them in anything, and also doesn't want the humiliation of losing to one or both of them in such a public contest.  Rather, Atalanta assumes the former intention and Ariadne assumes the latter one.  Neither is confirmed to be what he's thinking.)  Thus...

            “So, what’s the next event?” Atalanta asked the king, as soon as he had finished giving Eurysakes his trophy.  “It better be one I can compete in.”
            “Ah…I had planned that wrestling would follow boxing, but if you don’t wish to be left out again, we could skip to the final event of—”
            “Oh, no, I want to wrestle!” Atalanta exclaimed eagerly.  “Because I heard all about it in Iolcos!  At the funeral games of Pelias, the—”  [she's trying to mention how her namesake had wrestled Peleus, her grandfather, and won; she mentioned it shortly after the games were decided on]
            “Yes, I know the tale,” King Idomeneus sighed sadly.  “I suppose I can permit it, but…it seems a trifle scandalous to allow men to lay hands on unwed young girls in such a manner.”
            Atalanta shrugged.  “I can just wrestle against Pyrrha, then, and the men can have their own contest.”
            For some reason, the king looked even more awkward, and almost seemed to blush.  “That might actually be worse,” he said quietly.  Then he shook his head.  “Perhaps there is something you don’t understand.”
            “What?” Atalanta asked, feeling confused.  What else could she need to know?
            “Wrestling is never performed wearing so much clothing.  If the athletes are not nude, then they only wear a loincloth.  Anything more than that would get in the way.”
            Atalanta’s whole face felt quite hot; she must have turned the color of thick, sluggish blood.  “O-only a….” she tried to repeat, her voice giving out on her quickly.
            “Are you afraid?” Pyrrha suddenly mocked her.  “I’m not afraid!  I’ll compete wearing nothing at all if I have to!”
            “Your parents would be horrified to hear you say so,” King Idomeneus rebuked her.  “Achilles would never wish men to see his daughter’s unclad form, and before she became his concubine, Briseis was the Queen of Lyrnessos!  Try to show a little decorum!”

   (Not that the girls are wearing all that much already; they're just wearing light tunics.  So their torsos are all covered, but their legs are exposed from like the knee down, maybe even the mid-thigh down.  Not sure if I specified that in this draft, but either way I'll need to do some research before I specify it in the final draft.)

    Anyway, it's not relevant to this post, but I just have to say it because I'm still kinda jazzed by it:  I made the final contest in the games bull-leaping.  Admittedly, we have no idea what bull-leaping actually was (I mean, I don't think we even know for sure that the famous bull-leaping fresco is even depicting something people actually did and not a mythical event), so I had to just make something up that seemed believable (I may have found some academic speculation on possible ways that bull-leaping functioned to base it on, though I can't remember now one way or the other) but I thought it was only fitting as the final event at an athletic competition at Knossos.  😆  After the games are over...

            Then the king turned towards the crowd as a whole, and swept his hand in the direction of the bull.  “Let the bull be sacrificed, and offerings made to the twelve Olympian gods,” he declared, “with two extra shares burnt in offering!  One to Thetis, foremost among the Nereids, and the other to my former comrade Achilles, so that he may know what a glorious daughter he fathered!”
            The crowd again roared in near riotous approval, and several people began to make preparations to sacrifice the bull on the spot.
            But Pyrrha let out a shout of indignation.  “How could you think there’s anything glorious about that festering sow!?” she shouted.  “You’ve been cheating this whole time to make sure she wins!  You’re nothing but a liar!  You and your whole stinking island!  Everyone to the end of time ought to know that you’re the worst liars in the whole world!”  Despite how angry her words and voice were, Pyrrha’s eyes were streaming tears, and Atalanta felt rather sorry for her, despite that her half-sister had just called her a ‘festering sow.’

    This is another of my ludicrous...well, normally I would call them ridiculous inside jokes about various minor myths, but in this case it's almost like trying to set up an alternate idea of where the myth came from?  See, there's a myth that Medeia got angry at Idomeneus for having judged Thetis to be more beautiful than she is, and so she cursed all the people of Crete to be perpetual liars.  (This bad rep of Cretans being dishonest seems to be a very old one, given that Odysseus picks Crete for a fake homeland when he's giving himself a false history at one point in the Odyssey!)  Wow, and right after that there's a big discussion of Achilles' half-siblings, all of which is fully discussed by book two in the new drafts.  Man, I really went out of my way to make Atalanta as ignorant as possible in the original drafts.  Ugh...

    Anyway, back to Idomeneus...there's actually not a lot more to say, except...

            The ships were finally ready to sail, and Atalanta was eager to get away from Crete.  It wasn’t that she disliked Knossos—it was a beautiful place!—but she found the king much too flattering, and in the last day or so he seemed to keep trying to suggest potential husbands for her and Ariadne.

    I no longer remember quite why I made "flattering" one of the personality traits of Idomeneus in this. 😅  I think it was more just a side effect of him being old and nostalgic for the past that they represent as the daughters of his former comrades-in-arms?  Actually, I guess it just sort of grew there as I was writing him.  That happens with me all too often.  (Mostly just in first drafts.)