Sacrifices Must Be Made
While waiting the return of the ambassadors the other Achæan kings amused themselves by hunting. Since the lands around Aulis were full of game, every night each of the kings returned to camp with something to show for their efforts. As time wore on, however, game became scarce in the immediate vicinity. One day Agamemnon was unable to find anything suitable to kill and was making his way back to camp as night began to fall. He was already dreading the ridicule he was bound to receive at the hands of his fellow kings when he heard something stirring in the bushes.
Without waiting to take a closer look in the dwindling light, Agamemnon turned and shot. He heard an immediate squeal of pain and then a small thump. Agamemnon was happy with his shot and exclaimed that even the divine huntress Artemis could not have done better. Then he went to see what he had bagged. Pushing through the brush, he discovered his arrow protruding from a very fat rabbit. Looking more closely, Agamemnon noticed that the rabbit was actually pregnant rather than plumped up. And taking a closer look at his surroundings he realized that he was in a grove dedicated to the virgin goddess. After getting a momentarily creepy feeling, Agamemnon shrugged it off, picked up his bunny, and went back to camp.
Unfortunately for Agamemnon that wasn't the end of it. As the Goddess of the Hunt, Artemis had established certain rules to keep the endeavor sportsmanlike. Near the top of the list of rules was that killing slow-moving pregnant animals was forbidden. The fact that Agamemnon had killed an animal under her protection inside her sacred grove made his transgression ten times worse, and claiming that Artemis herself couldn't have done any better just added insult to injury. In short, Artemis was pissed, and when Artemis got pissed people had to die.
Thus it happened that on the eve of the Achæan departure for Troy the winds died away to nothing. On the next day the wind picked up again but this time it was blowing from the east. Since the Achæans hadn't learned how to tack into the wind yet this presented a serious problem. Still, this calm seemed like only a momentary interruption so the Achæans waited.
After a week of contrary winds the troops started grumbling. After a month, they were openly complaining. If the gods were opposing their mission before they even left, what could they expect when they reached Troy? Kalchas the seer was consulted to determine which deity had been offended and what could be done to fix the problem.
After much rumination, Kalchas declared that Agamemnon had killed something precious to the goddess Artemis, and to make up for it he would have to make a sacrifice to the goddess of something precious to himself. The specific "something" was his oldest daughter Iphigeneia. Without this sacrifice the Achæan fleet would never make it to Troy. Because of the explosive and controversial nature of this oracle it was only revealed to a select few in the camp, so at first only four men knew of it: Kalchas himself, Agamemnon, Menelaos, and Odysseus.
At first Agamemnon completely rejected this idea. Although a bit brutal by our standards, the Achæans had long ago given up the practice of human sacrifice and thought the concept monstrous and barbaric. Agamemnon's own brother Menelaos and the clever Odysseus took a more pragmatic view of the situation. Odysseus pointed out that as commander in chief of the Argive forces, Agamemnon had accepted the responsibility of taking whatever steps were necessary to insure victory and regain Helen. Since Agamemnon had already shown his willingness to break up Odysseus' own family, was he going to be squeamish about his own? That seemed a little selfish. If Agamemnon was going to let his family responsibilities get in the way of that then perhaps he wasn't the right man to lead this army. Given the way he had been drafted, Odysseus took a certain perverse pleasure in making this argument.
Menelaos pointed out that his brother's responsibility to the fleet was partially a family responsibility as well. Since this endeavor was to salvage the family honor, Agamemnon owed it to his brother to see this through to the end, no matter what the cost. Was he willing to ask the other Argives to lay down their lives for this cause, but unwilling to make a similar sacrifice himself?
Convinced by the pragmatic Odysseus and the bereft Menelaos, Agamemnon finally agreed. He sent Odysseus and Diomedes to Mycenæ with a message for Klytæmnestra telling her to send Iphigeneia at once because he had arranged for her to marry the dashing young Achilleus. Since Achilleus' marriage to Deïdameia was still a secret this story sounded plausible, and since Achilleus was one of the only Achæan leaders not bound by the Oath of Tyndareos the marriage even made political sense.
After sending the message Agamemnon had a change of heart. Iphigeneia was a well behaved, loving, nearly perfect daughter and it seemed consummately unfair that she should have to die so Menelaos could recover his wife, who had shown herself to be far from perfect. Hoping he wasn't too late, Agamemnon drafted a second message to Klytæmnestra telling her the truth of the situation and that she should under no circumstances send Iphigeneia to join him at Aulis. After writing this down, Agamemnon had another change of heart and destroyed the message. But then he repented again, and wrote his wife another warning, which he also destroyed. A dozen or so drafts later Agamemnon finally made up his mind and sent Klytæmnestra the warning.
Unfortunately he had taken so long in composing his message and deciding his course of action that Menelaos noticed his brother was burning the midnight oil Since the fleet was trapped at Aulis there was no military matter that could be occupying Agamemnon's attention, so it had to concern Iphigeneia. Thus, as soon as the messenger departed Agamemnon's tent he was intercepted and relieved of his message by Menelaos.
As soon as he discovered his brother's duplicity, Menelaos went to confront him. Despite his conflicted opinion, Agamemnon decided to stick with his decision to spare his daughter and even went so far as to ask Menelaos why he was so intent on getting Helen back. He was just acting like a bigger fool by chasing after her. The argument was ended when Menelaos pointed out that together they had called together the biggest army the Achæans had ever mustered and that this army would not be very amused if they were suddenly told "False alarm, go home". In fact, it was almost certainly guaranteed that if Iphigeneia weren't offered in sacrifice the troops would find a couple of other suitable offerings from the house of Atreus.
Given this unpleasant fact, Agamemnon once again changed his mind and agreed to sacrifice his daughter for the good of the expedition (and his own life). Because the gods enjoyed jerking Agamemnon around, as soon as he agreed to meet his brother's demand a messenger arrived letting him know that Iphigeneia had arrived at the camp, along with her mother Klytæmnestra and infant brother Orestes.
The one person Agamemnon didn't want to involve in this mess was his wife. Upon reflection he realized that he couldn't have realistically expected her to stay away from their daughter's supposed wedding and his mind raced trying to figure out a way to get rid of her.
Since Klytæmnestra was busy arranging the unloading of the dowry and wedding supplies Iphigeneia was the first member of his family to make it to Agamemnon's tent. Iphigeneia was very attached to her father and was quite pleased to see him, although a bit sorrowful that soon she would have to leave Mycenæ to live with her new husband. On the whole, though, she was as giddy as new bride.
By the time Klytæmnestra had unloaded all the wedding goods Iphigeneia was inside Agamemnon's tent preparing herself for the anticipated nuptials. Klytæmnestra was a bit more pragmatic about the match than her starry-eyed daughter. She wanted to know the details about this young man who was marrying her child and what sort of family he came from.
Apparently Agamemnon had chosen wisely in picking Achilleus as a faux-groom, since Klytæmnestra was quite taken with Agamemnon's truthful description of him. Convinced that this was probably the best match available in Achæa, Klytæmnestra happily set about making preparations for the wedding sacrifice and feast. Eager to get rid of her, Agamemnon said that he would take care of all the arrangements. Of course Klytæmnestra found this unacceptable and immediately busied herself with the tasks required of a mother on her daughter's wedding day.
Of course the gods weren't done toying with Agamemnon yet, so while she was bustling around the camp Klytæmnestra came face to face with the legendary Achilleus, her presumptive son-in-law. She immediately liked what she saw, and as soon as she realized who he was she greeted him in a kindly and familiar manner, telling him what a great honor this was for both of their families. It was quite a shock when Achilleus asked her who she was and what in the name of Hades was she babbling about. After her explanation it was Achilleus' turn to be shocked and surprised. Fortunately their confusion was not long lived. The messenger to whom Agamemnon had entrusted his second message warning his wife about the danger to Iphigeneia had been following Klytæmnestra around waiting for an opportunity to warn her about her husband's intentions. Her impasse with Achilleus seemed like a decent opportunity, so he made his presence known and explained the true nature of the situation at Aulis.
As soon as she heard the whole story Klytæmnestra started to freak out. By coming into the camp at Aulis she had unknowingly given up her last opportunity to save her daughter herself. The only hope now was if one of the men of the camp would help Iphigeneia escape the fate plotted for her by her father. Klytæmnestra knelt in front of Achilleus and clasped his knees in supplication, promising she would do anything for him if he would help save Iphigeneia. She even promised that her daughter would also "grip him about the knees" if that's what it would take to sway his opinion.
Achilleus told Klytæmnestra to get up and stop making a spectacle of herself. He would be more than willing to help mother and daughter in their plight, and they needn't worry about compensating him. Achilleus was a very straightforward young man and didn't like his name being used in such an underhanded manner to achieve this barbaric end. Thus he regarded it as almost a duty to correct this wrong.
While Achilleus went to prepare his warriors, the Myrmidons, to take whatever action was necessary to safeguard Iphigeneia, Klytæmnestra went to confront her husband. Rather than beating around the bush she came right to the point and asked Agamemnon if it was his intention to kill their daughter. After initially acting outraged that his wife would even suggest such a thing Agamemnon finally admitted the truth. But he added that this action was really being taken for her benefit and the benefit of all Achæan women everywhere. If men like Paris were allowed to just carry off Argive wives without consequence, the practice might become commonplace.
Klytæmnestra wasn't buying any of this. She pointed out that if Helen was the reason they were sailing to Troy, why not sacrifice Helen's daughter Hermione? It seemed only fair. Or better yet, why not have each of the Achæan kings draw lots and have the loser give up his child? That would almost certainly put an end to this madness.
This argument was interrupted by a general tumult in the camp. The first person to arrive bearing news of what was happening was the fleet-footed Achilleus. Achilleus told the bickering couple that Odysseus had found out about Achilleus' plan to save Iphigeneia. In order to thwart his efforts, Odysseus had told the rest of the camp about Kalchas' prophecy and that although Agamemnon has sent for Iphigeneia he was having second thoughts and was going to send her away again. Now the entire army was out for her blood, but Achilleus assured everyone that he was still willing to defend Iphigeneia to his last breath.
It was at this point that Iphigeneia finally made her own voice heard. While she found Achilleus quite attractive and was very flattered that he was willing to die in her defense, she realized that this would be a futile gesture. Unless something happened soon, everyone in the tent was going to die. Speaking tentatively at first, Iphigeneia said that if all these men were willing to go to Troy and die for the cause, could she do any less? As an Achæan woman didn't she have as much obligation as any man to support this war in whatever way she could? Besides, if her sacrifice was pleasing to the gods wouldn't it be impious to refuse? She made her speech with all the impassioned self-destructiveness that only a teenager can muster and convinced everyone present of the rightness of this action, with the exception of Klytæmnestra. Unwilling to witness the slaughter of her eldest child, she swore an oath of vengeance against her husband and returned to Mycenæ with Orestes.
With the troops mollified the camp calmed down to a point where the sacrifice could take place. Gathering in an open field, the leaders of the Achæans placed Iphigeneia on the makeshift altar they had erected. She seemed very calm and lovely, the very picture of well-behaved Achæan womanhood, making everyone present feel really, really bad about the whole proceeding. Not bad enough to stop the sacrifice, though. Achilleus was openly weeping, broken up by the nobility of her sacrifice and his own inability to save her.
Binding Iphigeneia as he would an animal sacrifice, Kalchas cleansed and anointed her and then made ready to spill the blood from her throat with a sharp bronze knife. At the very last instant the goddess Artemis relented and whisked Iphigeneia away, replacing her with a stag, a far more suitable offering. All of the assembled Argives were dumbfounded and relieved at this unexpected turn of events. The one remaining question was what had happened to Iphigeneia? The stag was clearly evident, but there was no sign of the young woman. Some thought that she had been transformed into a stag by the goddess and was lying dead in animal form on the altar. Others speculated that her devotion had been rewarded by being drawn up to Olympos. However, since the wind was already turning eastward towards Troy the Argives didn't give the matter a lot of thought. The expedition was finally underway, and they were all confident that Priam's stronghold would fall within a month.