Troy, 1184 BC.

The Trojans walk down to the beach to find that, sure enough, the Greeks, who had long been intent on destroying Troy in battle, have retreated.

Their camp is deserted, their boats have left the shore, the enemy is gone, and the city of Troy's greatest threat has been rebuffed.

And as if that weren't already good enough, the Greeks have left behind a parting gift,

a towering, gorgeous feat of woodcrafting, an incredible model of a horse.

The Trojans stand on the beach, awed at its beauty, marveling at the accomplishment looming over them.

Celebration and relief are thick in the air, until a man named Laocouan cuts through it.

Laocouan comes through the crowd, holding an enormous spear, ranting at them, disparaging their

credulity.

He yells, Trojans, don't trust this horse.

Whatever it is, I'm afraid of Greeks, even those bearing gifts.

Leocawan gets down to the beach and, as if his words weren't clear enough,

he throws his spear into the horse's side with such force that the reverberations cause the wooden structure to groan.

And here I'll read from the original narrator of the story,

quote,

If the gods faint, if our minds had not been ill omen,

he'd have incited us to mar the Greeks hiding place with steel.

Troy would still stand.

End quote.

Today we're going to talk about a Trojan horse. The large blue. Fengaris Arion.

I'm Mackin. This is species.

Welcome to the show. That was my paraphrasing the English translation of the Aeneid book two,

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