The Seven Against Thebes

In the ancient city of Thebes, where the foundations were laid by the music of Amphion’s lyre and the walls rose at the command of divine song, a tragedy was destined to unfold that would echo through the ages as one of the most terrible and magnificent tales of heroism and fate.

The story begins with Oedipus, the tragic king who had unknowingly fulfilled the dreadful prophecy of killing his father and marrying his mother. When the truth of his crimes was revealed, Oedipus blinded himself in horror and grief, and eventually departed from Thebes, leaving the throne to his two sons, Eteocles and Polynices.

Before his exile, the broken king had pronounced a terrible curse upon his sons: “You shall divide your inheritance with the sword,” he declared, his voice echoing with prophetic doom. “Neither shall know peace while the other lives, and by iron shall you settle your claims to my throne.”

At first, the brothers sought to avoid their father’s curse by agreeing to rule Thebes in alternating years. Eteocles would rule first, while Polynices would travel and seek his fortune abroad. After a year, they would exchange places, and so continue to share the kingdom peacefully.

“Brother,” said Polynices as he prepared to depart from Thebes, “let us prove that we are wiser than our father’s bitter words. When my year of exile ends, you will step down honorably, and we shall rule as partners rather than enemies.”

Eteocles clasped his brother’s hand with apparent warmth. “It shall be as we have agreed, brother. May the gods watch over your travels and bring you safely home when your time comes to rule.”

But the seeds of the curse had already taken root in their hearts. During his year of rule, Eteocles found the throne’s power sweet and intoxicating. When messengers arrived from Argos announcing Polynices’ approach with his new bride and a small retinue, Eteocles felt his resolve weaken.

“Why should I surrender the throne that fits me so well?” he mused to his advisors. “I have ruled justly and well. The people prosper under my guidance. Perhaps it would be better for Thebes if I continued to rule.”

His counselors, eager to maintain their positions of influence, encouraged his doubts. “My lord,” said one, “your brother has been away for a full year, consorting with foreigners and learning foreign ways. How can we be certain he still has Thebes’ best interests at heart?”

When Polynices arrived at the gates of Thebes with his small party, expecting to be welcomed home and invested with the royal authority, he found the gates barred against him and guards upon the walls.

“Open these gates!” Polynices called out to the sentries. “I am Polynices, son of Oedipus, and I have come to claim my rightful year of rule!”

But the captain of the guard, acting on Eteocles’ orders, replied coldly, “By order of King Eteocles, you are denied entry to the city. The king declares that Thebes has no need of a second ruler, and that you are hereby banished from the land.”

Polynices stood before the closed gates of his birth-city, his face pale with shock and growing anger. “So my brother chooses to honor neither his word nor our agreement. Very well—if he will not yield the throne peacefully, then by the sword shall I claim what is rightfully mine, just as our father prophesied.”

Filled with righteous fury and wounded pride, Polynices journeyed to Argos, where he had married Argia, daughter of King Adrastus. There he poured out his grievances to his father-in-law, seeking aid in his quest to reclaim his throne.

King Adrastus was a noble and generous ruler, known throughout Greece for his hospitality and his desire to see justice done. When he heard Polynices’ tale, his own sense of justice was inflamed.

“My son,” Adrastus declared, “you have been grievously wronged. No man should be denied his rightful inheritance by treachery and deceit. I will gather the finest warriors in all of Argos to help you reclaim your throne.”

And so began the gathering of the Seven Against Thebes. Adrastus himself would lead the expedition, along with Polynices the rightful king. Five other champions of renowned courage and skill joined their cause, each driven by his own motives of honor, friendship, or divine calling.

There was Amphiaraus, the wise seer and prophet, who alone among them foresaw the doom that awaited their expedition. Though he knew that death awaited him at Thebes, he was bound by sacred oath to join the campaign.

“My friends,” Amphiaraus warned them as they prepared for war, “I have consulted the omens and the signs in the sky. This expedition will bring glory to none who undertake it. Death waits for us before the walls of Thebes.”

But Tydeus, the fierce warrior from Calydon, laughed at the prophet’s warnings. “Death waits for all men, wise seer. The only question is whether we meet it as heroes or as cowards. I choose to face whatever fate awaits with sword in hand and courage in my heart.”

Capaneus, the giant warrior whose strength was legendary throughout Greece, was equally undaunted. “Let the gods themselves try to stop us,” he boasted. “My arm is strong enough to tear down any wall, and my courage great enough to face any foe, mortal or divine.”

Hippomedon and Parthenopaeus, the other champions, were equally resolute. Each had his own reasons for joining the expedition—some sought glory, others were bound by friendship or family ties, but all were determined to see justice done and Polynices restored to his rightful throne.

The army that gathered at Argos was magnificent to behold. Seven companies of warriors, each led by one of the great champions, assembled on the plain outside the city. Their bronze armor gleamed in the sunlight, their spears formed a forest of sharp points, and their war-cries shook the very earth.

“Warriors of Argos!” Adrastus addressed the assembled host. “We march not as conquerors seeking plunder, but as champions of justice seeking to restore a wronged king to his rightful throne. Let our conduct be as noble as our cause, and let no man say we brought dishonor to this sacred quest.”

The march from Argos to Thebes was long and arduous, but the army’s spirits remained high. They believed in the righteousness of their cause and the skill of their leaders. Along the way, they were joined by smaller contingents from other cities whose rulers sympathized with their mission.

But in Thebes, Eteocles was not idle. He had used his year of undisputed rule to strengthen the city’s defenses and rally his own champions. He too gathered seven heroes to defend the seven gates of Thebes, each one a warrior of renown.

“My faithful defenders,” Eteocles addressed his champions, “my brother comes with foreign allies to tear down the walls that have stood since Amphion’s time. We fight not merely for my throne, but for the independence of Thebes itself. Shall we allow foreign armies to dictate who shall rule over us?”

Among Thebes’ defenders was Melanippus, a warrior whose skill with the spear was legendary, and others whose names would be remembered for their courage in the face of overwhelming odds. Each took up position at one of the city’s seven gates, determined to hold their posts to the death.

When the army of the Seven finally appeared on the plain before Thebes, the sight was both magnificent and terrible. The bronze of their armor flashed like lightning, their banners streamed in the wind, and the earth trembled under the march of their feet.

The siege of Thebes began with great ceremony and ritual. According to the customs of honorable warfare, Polynices sent heralds to the city demanding that his brother step down and honor their original agreement.

“Tell my brother,” Polynices instructed the herald, “that I come not as an invader, but as a son of Thebes claiming his rightful inheritance. Let him yield the throne peacefully, and no blood need be spilled on either side.”

But Eteocles, surrounded by his own champions and confident in his city’s defenses, rejected his brother’s demands. “Tell the pretender,” he replied, “that Thebes has but one king, and that king’s name is Eteocles. If he wishes to enter this city, let him try to break down our gates with his foreign army.”

And so the die was cast. The Seven Against Thebes deployed their forces around the city, with each of the great champions taking position before one of the seven gates. The defenders arranged themselves within the walls, each hero standing ready to meet the assault that was to come.

The first assault was terrible to behold. The sound of clashing bronze echoed across the plain as the armies met. Spears shattered against shields, swords rang against armor, and the cries of warriors filled the air like the voices of eagles.

At each gate, individual combats of legendary intensity took place. Tydeus fought with such fury that his enemies fled before him in terror, but he fell at last, mortally wounded by many spears. Capaneus, true to his boastful nature, began to scale the walls themselves, crying out that not even Zeus could stop him—whereupon the king of the gods struck him down with a thunderbolt, his body tumbling from the walls in flames.

One by one, the great champions fell. Hippomedon was overwhelmed by the defenders at his gate. Parthenopaeus, the youngest and most beautiful of the Seven, died with arrows in his chest, far from his mountain home. Amphiaraus, the wise prophet, met his fate exactly as he had foreseen—the earth opened beneath his chariot and swallowed him whole, horses and all, so that he passed living into the underworld.

As the battle raged and the losses mounted on both sides, the two brothers finally came face to face. Polynices and Eteocles met in single combat between the armies, their personal hatred and the weight of their father’s curse driving them to a confrontation that had been fated from the beginning.

“Brother,” Polynices called out as they circled each other with drawn swords, “it is not too late to end this madness. Divide the kingdom with me, and let us rule together as sons of Oedipus should.”

But Eteocles’ face was hard as stone. “There is room for only one king in Thebes, and I am that king. If you would have a crown, you must take it from my lifeless hands.”

The duel between the brothers was fierce and terrible. They fought with all the skill that years of training had given them, and all the fury that their mutual hatred could inspire. Their swords rang against each other again and again, neither able to gain a decisive advantage.

But at last, as the sun began to set and paint the battlefield red with its dying light, both brothers struck simultaneously. Polynices’ sword found Eteocles’ heart, while Eteocles’ blade pierced his brother’s side. They fell together in the dust, their blood mingling on the earth of Thebes, the curse of Oedipus finally fulfilled.

With the death of both brothers and most of the great champions on both sides, the siege of Thebes came to an end. The surviving Argives, led by the aged Adrastus, withdrew from the field, their great expedition ended in tragedy and defeat.

Yet the story of the Seven Against Thebes became one of the most celebrated in all of Greek literature, not for its victories but for the courage and nobility displayed by the heroes who fought and died in what they believed was a just cause. They showed that even in defeat, even in death, there can be a kind of victory in standing up for what one believes is right.

The tale reminds us that the greatest tragedies often arise not from evil triumphing over good, but from good men and women driven by pride, anger, and the inexorable working of fate to destroy each other and themselves. The Seven Against Thebes teaches us that heroism lies not in winning or losing, but in facing our destiny with courage and honor, whatever the cost may be.

And in the ruins of that great conflict, the seeds were sown for another tale—that of the Epigoni, the sons of the Seven, who would one day return to finish what their fathers had begun, proving that some stories never truly end, but echo through the generations like the sound of bronze on bronze, or the cry of eagles on the wind.