On the border of the Ilion plain, Helenus's chariot groaned on the gravel road. It sounded ready to fall apart.
His fine priestly robes had lost their splendor. The expensive linen was caked in dust. Like peacock feathers dragged through mud. It clung to him, damp. Even the golden serpent amulet at his chest, symbol of Apollo's favor, was filmed with grime.
The fifty Trojan hoplites following him looked worse for wear.
Sweat soaked their backs. They gasped for air. Their bronze armor and long spears weighed over thirty kilograms. After six or seven hours of marching, the load was brutal.
The elite soldiers' proud bearing from that morning was gone. Blown away by the winds of Mount Ida into the Aegean. Now they were just a line of weary men. Dragging their feet.
Just then, a Dardan scout rode out from a side path. Reined in his horse near the chariot.
He kept a safe distance. His voice was clear, respectful. "Prince Helenus. A scout of the Dardan lands greets you. But your escort is too large. It may cause misunderstandings. Please wait here. We will inform the lord to receive you."
The charioteer instinctively slowed. Looked back at Helenus. Uncertainty plain on his face.
Helenus's face darkened. His voice was hoarse from fatigue. Laced with suppressed rage. "Insolent scout! Out of my way! You are not worthy to address me. You have no right to impose conditions on a prince."
The Dardan scout hastily backed his horse a few paces. Maintained his distance. But held his ground. "Prince Helenus. If you insist on proceeding, by domain law, you may bring only five attendants. The rest of your guard must camp here. Or withdraw."
This finally broke Helenus's control. He snatched a spear from the chariot. Hurled it at the scout. "Begone! Or the next one finds your throat!" The spear sank deep into the earth just before the scout's horse. The shaft quivered.
The Dardan scout saw this. Wheeled his horse around immediately. Galloped away. His figure soon vanished around a bend in the mountain path.
Helenus stood there, chest heaving with anger.
Behind him, the exhausted soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. No one dared speak.
"A mere border lord dares make demands of a Trojan prince? Advance!" His arrogant command echoed across the plain.
Not far ahead, the Dardan outpost stood firm. Guarding the road.
The outpost captain stood at the top of the wooden watchtower. He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting down. "Prince Helenus! Your troops have crossed into Dardan territory! Halt and withdraw at once to avoid a misunderstanding!"
Helenus sneered arrogantly from his chariot. "These Dardan lands truly are a barbaric border wasteland. So many wild dogs, so little discipline. That Aeneas is nothing but a damned brute."
He waved a hand forward in a grand, weary gesture. "Charge! Crush these mongrels!"
The moment the Trojan troops began their assault, the sentries executed their plan.
They lit the pre-positioned brush pile atop the watchtower. Thick, black smoke billowed skyward instantly. Simultaneously, they yanked hard on the alarm bell. Its harsh clanging flooded the river valley.
Then, the outpost captain and his men fled. They shouted to residents along the way as they ran. "Get to the town! Warn everyone to run! That damned Trojan prince means to plunder us!"
By the time the gasping Trojan hoplites reached the outpost, the three sentries were long gone.
They found only the still-smoking beacon fire. And the alarm bell's echo fading in the valley.
Helenus stared at the empty outpost. His handsome features twisted with rage.
He spun around. Screamed at the breathless hoplites finally catching up. "You useless lot! Turtles could crawl faster!"
A trembling finger pointed at the smoldering tower. "They like fire so much? Tear this outpost down! Burn it to the ground!"
The Trojan soldiers obeyed without delay. They began demolishing the structure.
Bronze swords hacked into the wooden frame. The sound of splintering wood filled the air.
Flames quickly licked up the watchtower. Devoured the timber. A column of thick, black smoke coiled upwards.
Meanwhile, in the river valley town, the evacuation proceeded in an orderly fashion. Aided by the militia.
The mood was tense, but not chaotic.
The old grain merchant Callimachus stood before his storehouse. Directed his family calmly. "Take the grain, the silver, and the gold. Nothing else matters!"
His family swiftly loaded grain jars and valuables onto a cart. They abandoned other possessions without a second glance.
At the town's entrance, Captain Callippus directed fifty light infantry setting up defenses.
He barked orders. "Faster! Reinforce that barricade! Tell any civilians still inside to move out!"
On the Scamander River, Dido's merchant ships ferried evacuees back and forth.
The crew helped the elderly, women, and children board with practiced ease. Their movements were quick, yet gentle.
After burning the outpost, Helenus led his weary troops toward the valley town.
As his chariot neared the entrance, he found several dozen Dardan light infantry already formed up ahead.
Helenus's chariot halted before the defensive line. He looked down from his height, demanding, "A prince of royal blood arrives in the Dardan lands. Why has the lord not come to greet me? How dare you lowly border militiamen block the path of your prince?"
Captain Callippus stood at the front of the line. He snorted dismissively. "A royal guest, Prince? Doesn't look like it to me. You refused to wait outside the border. Show up with a whole army, breathing fire. Burn our outpost the moment you arrive. How do I know you're a real prince and not some bandit in disguise?"
Helenus's handsome face contorted into something demonic with rage. The hand clutching Apollo's serpent staff trembled.
"Fine! Wonderful! A pack of wild, uncouth dogs, just as I thought!" Helenus laughed, a vicious, ugly sound. "Guards! For the glory of the King! Slaughter them all!"
The Trojan hoplites charged. But their heavy gear and hours of marching made them slow. Clumsy.
Captain Callippus led his Dardan light infantry calmly. They used the town's palisades to hold the line briefly. Then they withdrew. Quickly. Orderly. Melting away into the town's narrow alleys.
In the brief skirmish, ten Trojan hoplite guards sustained minor injuries. Mostly from rocks and javelins hurled from house windows in the tight streets.
Helenus stormed into the town, furious. He found it empty. The streets were littered with items dropped in the hurried evacuation.
"Search! Find anything of value! They will pay for their defiance!" Helenus's voice shook with anger.
The Trojan soldiers began ransacking shops and houses roughly.
Finding little of worth, they started setting fires. Black smoke soon blanketed the entire town.
Not far off, beyond the Callippus military camp, Aeneas's relief force was nearing the battlefield.
The smoke rising over the town was clearly visible now. Aeneas watched it, his fists clenching unconsciously.
A cold fury burned in his eyes. He was already calculating how to make the arrogant prince pay for this day's atrocities.