(the real Agamemnon and his warrior troupe)
Paris never stole Helen. It was a poetic excuse the Greeks later used to justify their war with the east. They never trusted us. We were rich, our trade flourishing. Agamemnon was only a pirate. Perhaps he convinced the Mycenaeans to support his cause to invade Troy once, but not here.
Homer would have you believe we had allies throughout the world. If only we had. Not even the Amazons came to our aid. But that didn't mean we fought alone. Assuwa stood as a bastion of stability with the support of our Hittite allies. Only one people could truly threaten us: Arzawa.
(the fearsome Lydian archers)
You know them as Lydians. Their king, Muwa-Walwis, made a secret pact with the Ahhiyawa - the Achaeans - to strike at us and claim the Dardanelles. At that time, Muwatalli had extended his empire out into Cilicia, bypassing the need for Arzawa as a middle man in trade negotiations with Phoenicia. After Muwa's death, his brother, Uhha-Ziti, led a war against Muwatalli.
None of these names were remembered by the classical authors. But Uhha-Ziti must've been a powerful man. He convinced his nephew, Manapa-Tarhunta, to stop paying tribute, and even sent the young King Priam - Piyama-Kurunta - to wage war against us. It wasn't Achilles or Ajax I had to face at the gates of Troy.
It was Priam. Backed by hundreds of Achaeans and Lydians. Who did we have to face him? A weak and ailing king without a successor.
(Piyama-Kurunta stands with his bodyguards)
By the time we met him in battle, Priam had already destroyed much of the countryside. Even the gods seemed to be against us. We had to fall back many times - attack and retreat, attack and retreat. Slowly, but surely, we lured them into the alluvial plains south of Troy. Bruised and battered, those of us who remained felt sure we were about to lose everything.
Then Muwatalli arrived. Backed by our Hittite brothers, I felt centuries of hostility between our peoples melt away as we faced off against a greater threat. I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with many an easterner, our body-length shields planted in the ground as we withstood the charge of the Myrmidons. When our spears broke, I traded blows with the men of Ithica; watched as Hittite arrows mingled with the Lydians' above our heads; heard the blast of a warhorn and the screams of thousands as the Hittite chariots cut through Priam's men.
(Hittite chariots charge into the Myrmidons' flank)
Muwatalli carried the war on through Lydia and trapped Priam at Millawanta - Miletus. Meanwhile, we faced off against the Achaeans across the northern Aegean, sailing from island to island and slaughtering any we came across.
Eventually, peace had settled over the land... but not for long. Piyama-Radu, the elderly Priam's own son, gathered a great many Achaeans and pirates to reclaim his father's lands in Arzawa and make us in Assuwa pay for his death.
History has a way of repeating itself. Piyama-Radu gained power because both Arzawa and the Achaeans had suffered a great loss. They wanted revenge. Again, I had to join my countrymen in facing them, and again, we emerged victorious.
But the Aegean remained a dangerous place full of pirates and madmen. So we turned our eyes toward the roof of the world...