Speech to a man is not an invitation to a dialog as it is with women but the declaration, in a simple laconic statement, of their world view at the moment as uncontested fact — even if no one else either agrees or has any idea what he is talking about.
Trenz Pruca
Every now and then we should stop what we are doing and consider Tomyris and the Massagetae
Tomyris, Queen of the Massagetae, reigned over a semi-nomadic nation in Central Asia at the time Cyrus the Great—Emperor of Persia and ruler of just about every other place anyone had heard of—ravaged that part of the world, some four or five hundred years before Jesus walked the earth preaching peace and unintentionally unleashing 2,000 years of bloodshed (often in his name), far beyond anything the previous four millennia had managed.
One day, the all conquering Cyrus marched his armies into the land of the Massagetae—an area he suddenly noticed he had forgotten to conquer. The story, as I imagine it, goes something like this: Cyrus looked down at what passed for a map at the time (probably a few lines drawn in the sand with a stick) and exclaimed, “Hey, here’s a place where I haven’t killed a lot of people yet. Let’s have some fun.”
Cyrus’s personal motto appears to have been: If it moves, conquer it. If it doesn’t move, conquer it anyway.
Tomyris’ son, along with about a third of the Massagetae troops, rode out to meet Cyrus and his marauders. They were quickly defeated, and Tomyris’ son (clearly not a chip off his mother’s terrifying block) was taken prisoner. This was hardly unusual for Cyrus. Whenever he felt like killing a lot of people, some young man would show up to inform him that they would resist. Cyrus, being a practical fellow, would kill them anyway. It was good being Cyrus.
So Cyrus ambled—walked, rode, or however they traveled before automobiles—up to what passed for a wall surrounding what passed for a city among the nomadic Massagetae. With Tomyris’ son in tow, he strutted back and forth and shouted up to Tomyris that she should surrender her town and country, such as they were.
That tough old bird climbed to the top of the wall, reportedly hiked up her skirt, stared down at the strutting Cyrus, and shouted:
“Now listen to me, and I will advise you for your good: give me back my son and get out of my country with your forces intact, and be content with your triumph over one-third of the Massagetae.
If you refuse, I swear by the sun our master to give you more blood than you can drink, for all your gluttony.”
Thus spoke Tomyris, Warrior Queen of the Massagetae, addressing Cyrus the Great—Emperor of Persia, conqueror of the greatest empire of the ancient world, and leader of the largest and most technologically advanced army of his time.
Cyrus refused Tomyris’ advice. Because, of course, he did. So she personally led the charge of her forces and destroyed his army. After her victory, she searched the battlefield until she found Cyrus’ body, cut off his head, and made his skull into her favorite goblet.
Modern historians debate whether she actually drank wine from it or merely used it to store pencils. Either way, it was bad for Cyrus.
This leads me to conclude that one should never mess with a woman named Tomyris—or, for that matter, a Massagetae warrior. Some ancient historians believe the Massagetae eventually morphed into the Huns, but even if that’s only half true, it’s enough to justify being polite.
I also heard that a biker gang in South Dakota calls itself the Massagetae and that their leader is a six-foot, six-inch trans woman named Tomyris. One is well advised to avoid visiting Mt. Rushmore.
For those interested in learning more about the Massagetae, here is what the ancient Greek historian Herodotus—the world’s first gossip columnist—had to say about them:
“In their dress and mode of living the Massagetae resemble the Scythians… their favorite weapon is the battle-axe… Their arms are all either of gold or brass… They use neither iron nor silver, having none in their country; but they have brass and gold in abundance.”
He continues:
“Each man has but one wife, yet all the wives are held in common… When a man grows very old, all his kinsfolk collect together and offer him up in sacrifice… After the sacrifice they boil the flesh and feast on it, and those who thus end their days are reckoned the happiest… They sow no grain… Milk is what they chiefly drink. The only god they worship is the sun, and to him they offer the horse in sacrifice.”
I have a few concerns and questions about the Massagetae lifestyle:
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How does one have one wife “held in common”?
Does it mean you can only sleep with one woman each night but rotate like a bowling league schedule?
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How old do you have to be before they come for you and boil you up with a cow or two?
Brisket of Grandpa? Ribeye of Aunt Mabel?
It’s a culinary tradition that really puts pressure on birthday parties.
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How pissed off would you have to be if you were forced to live on beef, fish, sour milk, and a grandfather or grandmother now and then?
Enough to go out and beat the hell out of someone, I imagine.
No wonder they terrified everyone for a thousand miles in every direction.
And finally, a few additional facts to help keep your Tomyris reverie well-rounded:
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Tomyris is one of the earliest recorded female military commanders—and the first known woman to personally decapitate the greatest emperor of her time and turn his skull into tableware. That should go on her résumé.
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Renaissance painters adored her. They depict her holding Cyrus’s head like she’s about to enter it into a chili cook-off.
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Her story may have influenced later tales of steppe warrior queens, including Boudica.
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Cyrus’s death has three competing ancient explanations: Tomyris beheaded him, he died in battle elsewhere, or he went retired to Florida (okay, that last one is mine).
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The Massagetae were cultural cousins of the Scythians—fearsome horse archers armed with gold, leather, and an apparent disregard for the longevity of grandpa.
Takeaway:
Never underestimate a woman whose idea of interior decorating involves the decapitated head of the most powerful man on earth.
