Aeneas's composite force arrived. A silent tide of iron on the outskirts of the ravaged river valley town.
The afternoon sun fell on smoking ruins. Charred husks of homes still smoldered. Blackened timbers and collapsed stone walls painted a bleak picture. The air was thick with acrid smoke. The bitter tang of burnt wood.
Aeneas's eyes were cold. Like the frozen tarns of Mount Ida. His deep-set pupils reflected the burning homes.
He let out a laugh. Suppressed to its breaking point. Quiet, yet it sent a chill through everyone nearby. "So this is a Trojan prince's way? Burning and looting his own vassal's land? Doing as he pleases?"
Behind him, Nisus and Euryalus looked at the familiar, once-lively town. Now reduced to wreckage. Their anger twisted. Became the bloodthirsty grin of hunters sighting their prey.
Aeneas didn't turn. His voice was calm again. He signaled to the two hunter-born commanders. "Time to test their training. Go."
Nisus licked his dry lips. "As you command!"
Euryalus hefted his bow playfully. His tone was light, yet full of lethal intent. "They'll pay. With their lives."
Aeneas remembered his parents' worried eyes. The potential for all-out war.
He took a deep breath. Forced the boiling rage in his chest back down. Added in a low voice, "Helenus... don't kill him. His life... is mine to take."
The order passed silently. The thirty-five longbowmen dispersed like ghosts.
They used their knowledge of the terrain. Moved with light steps. Took up positions on rooftops, behind walls. Secured the high ground. Their yew longbows gleamed dully in the sun. The whole maneuver made almost no sound.
Aeneas's army acted like a bucket of cold water dumped on hot coals. It instantly doused the Trojan soldiers' riotous thrill of pillaging.
The hoplites, lost in the thrill of destruction, scrambled back from burning shops. Kicked aside scattered pottery shards. Grabbed spears leaning against half-ruined low walls.
They stumbled into a rough formation. Boots trampling still-smoking embers of roof beams. They crowded around Helenus's chariot. Formed a loose defensive line.
Helenus on his chariot looked particularly wretched. The hem of his fine purple robe was singed with holes. The golden embroidery was smeared with mud and ash.
Aeneas stepped forward alone. Left the formation.
His steady stride carried him over scorched earth and shattered tiles. His gaze, hawk-like, locked onto Helenus on the chariot.
He stopped ten paces away. His voice was like cracking ice. "You are Helenus?"
He deliberately omitted the honorific. A bronze gauntlet rested lightly on his sword hilt. "Why have you brought an army into the Dardan lands? Does the royal house seek to break with us?"
Helenus was incensed. He brandished his serpent staff violently. The metal scales on its head flashed a blinding glare in the sun.
"Break with us? You have no right!" His voice rose sharply. "I know you! Aeneas... son of a crude country lord. Seducer of my concubine Thaleia! Conspirator in the murder of my guards!"
He shifted tactics abruptly. "You will hand over Thaleia. And provide compensation for your crimes. Do this, and you may yet spare this remote Dardan valley from war."
His greedy gaze slid past Aeneas's shoulder. Locked onto Melanippe and Ainippe, sitting their horses.
Even on the battlefield's edge, the Amazon warriors exerted a deadly pull. Their lean forms in leather armor. Their untamed eyes.
His Adam's apple bobbed. He pointed at the two women, raising his voice. "Wait! You will also hand over these two as compensation! And offer five Talents of gold! A tribute to Apollo and the royal house!"
Thaleia's face went deathly pale. Beside her, Sergestus reacted on pure instinct. His sword rasped from its scabbard. He stepped in front of his sister, tense as a shield. His eyes burned like those of a wolf driven to the edge.
Melanippe's fury ignited instantly.
She snatched up her longbow. Dug her heels hard into her horse's flanks. Blood Moon let out a deafening whinny. Its front hooves lashed out, scattering gravel. It seemed ready to charge from the line.
Aeneas didn't look back. His voice cracked like a whip, stern and commanding. "Melanippe! Stand down!"
The rebuke cut through the heated air. Halted the Amazon princess's charge.
Almost simultaneously, Ainippe reached out. Grabbed Blood Moon's bridle. Her chestnut braid swung in the dusty air. "Princess, be still."
Then Aeneas did something that stunned everyone.
He calmly took a step back. Completely ignored Helenus on his chariot. Walked toward the rear of his own lines. Stopped before a astonished Thaleia.
In full view of everyone, he reached out. Wrapped an arm gently around her waist. Drew her softly against him.
Thaleia's whole body stiffened at first. From shock, from shyness. A blush flooded her cheeks.
Then, instantly, her tense frame relaxed. She yielded. Even leaned her cheek against his solid armor with a hint of bliss.
The sudden, intimate display left everyone on both sides dumbfounded.
The Dardan soldiers looked surprised. Then exchanged knowing, amused smiles.
Across the way, a suppressed murmur ran through the Trojan ranks. Men shifted their spears uneasily.
Helenus watched, seething. The beauty he'd coveted for five years. The one he'd schemed endlessly to possess. Now nestled so obediently in another man's arms.
His whole body trembled. Shaken by pure, undiluted jealousy and rage. The eyes that always held arrogance now burned with raw fire.
Aeneas completely ignored Helenus's reaction. He looked down at Thaleia in his arms. Gave her a reassuring smile. Only then did he lift his head to face Helenus.
His tone was calm. "Oh? So, Helenus. You aren't planning to use the same method on me, are you? The one you used to drive Thaleia's family to ruin?"
The words were a poisoned dagger. They struck precisely into Helenus's most sensitive nerve.
This crude country bumpkin... How dare he... How dare he shame me like this, in front of everyone!
Then, Aeneas let out a derisive, mocking laugh. Loud enough for all to hear.
"After all, the noble royal house only knows how to make demands. The reasons for them... can just be made up, right?"
Helenus's eyes were bloodshot. Fixed on Thaleia, nestled against Aeneas.
"Kill him! Kill him!!"
The roar that tore from his throat was inhuman. Maddened. Distorted by pure, unadulterated fury.
He waved Apollo's serpent staff wildly toward Aeneas. His once-handsome face was contorted into a demonic mask.
The prince's command was given. Rash, but the well-drilled Trojan hoplites responded with a unified shout.
Bronze-tipped spears leveled as one. A moving wall of bronze. They began their heavy, forward assault.
Almost the instant Helenus roared, Aeneas was already moving. He guided Thaleia steadily back toward his own lines.
"Fall back! Alternate covering withdrawal to the town center!" His order was crisp. Clear.
Captain Callippus's beard bristled. He roared in response. "Men of Dardan! Hold firm! With me!"
His light infantry sprang into action. Used every corner, every half-ruined low wall for cover. Fighting a deliberate retreat.
Achates and Sergestus moved like Aeneas's wings. One on each flank.
Achates barked low orders. Directed the elite slave soldiers to use street debris for makeshift barricades. Sergestus led his Sarduran mountain guards. They used their knowledge of the complex terrain. Launched sharp, flanking counter-thrusts.
Aeneas's force was like an elastic net. Yielding under the heavy pressure. Constantly falling back.
They were consciously drawing Helenus deeper. Into the more tangled heart of the town.
Behind them, the longbowmen moved silently. Their sharp eyes pierced the smoke and dust. Like seasoned hunters. Waiting for the perfect moment.