When Zeus had brought Hector and the Trojans to the ships, he left them to toil and grief and turned his shining eyes away toward the lands of the horse-breeding Thracians, the Mysians who fight hand to hand, the proud Hippemolgoi, and the blameless Ethiopians.
He did not think any immortal would go help Trojans or Danaans.
But Poseidon, shaker of earth, was not blind. From the highest peak of wooded Samothrace he watched the whole war, Priam's city, and the ships of the Achaeans. He pitied the Argives, hated that Zeus gave glory to the Trojans, and came down quickly from the mountain.
The high hills and woods trembled under his immortal feet. In four strides he reached Aigai, where his famous palace stood in the depths of the sea, shining with gold and never decaying.
There he harnessed his bronze-hoofed horses with flying golden manes, put on gold, took the whip, and drove over the waves. Sea beasts came up around him, knowing their lord, and the sea parted in joy.
He hid the horses in a cave between Tenedos and rocky Imbros, fed them ambrosial fodder, bound their feet with golden bonds that could not be broken, and went to the Achaean camp. The Trojans were packed like flame or storm around Hector, hoping to take the ships and kill the best men.
Poseidon took the voice and body of Calchas and came first to the two Aiantes.
He urged them to save the people: elsewhere he did not fear the Trojan hands, but at the place where Hector raged, claiming to be son of great Zeus, he feared the ships would fall. A god would put courage in them if they stood fast.
He struck both men with his staff, filling their hearts with strength and making their limbs light. Then he passed like a hawk from a cliff.
The swift son of Oileus knew the sign and told Telamonian Aias that some Olympian, not Calchas, had ordered them to fight. His feet and hands were eager now. The greater Aias felt the same fire in his chest.