The entire time, that whole ten years I was journeying home, my wife was in my mind. There were other women, a fact of which I’m not proud, but whenever I considered giving up, whenever I considered accepting my fate, I thought of my Penelope, my Telemachus, my Argos. But history has never favored me. Most countries, most mythoses, have favored brawn over the mind. There is a reason it is the Illiad, after all, named after Achilles and his boundless valor. There is a reason that I was despised by the Romans, and by the Italians. I preferred craft and cunning.