The sun hung lower over the sea. Its light was no longer scorching. It bathed the Dardan estate in a warm, orange-red glow. A cool sea breeze whispered through the small courtyard. It stirred the leaves of the tall olive tree. The first, pale green fruits gleamed faintly in the fading light.
Aeneas had just returned to his courtyard. The negotiation with Helenus was over. It had been less a negotiation, more a successful shakedown. Weariness lingered between his brows. His bronze armor was stained with battlefield dust and dark, dried blood.
"Let me help you out of this heavy armor," Thaleia said softly, her deep brown eyes full of concern. She skillfully undid the straps. Her movements were gentle. Then she helped him into a light, comfortable peplos.
Just as he changed and was about to rest, a visitor appeared at the courtyard gate.
The mysterious Hittite merchant, Lady Lina, stood smiling at the entrance. Her deep brown, nearly black, wavy hair shimmered in the sunset. She wore an embroidered dark blue gown. Her demeanor was as cool and regal as ever.
"Lord Aeneas," she asked in a mild voice, "Might I have a private word? I wish to discuss the details of our goods transfer."
Aeneas nodded. He gestured for her to join him under the olive tree. Three large stones stood beneath it. A larger one served as a table. Two smaller ones were seats. The evening breeze was pleasant. It carried the scent of the sea and the fragrance of olive leaves. A fine spot for a chat.
"Please, sit, Lady Lina," Aeneas said kindly. He waited quietly for the shrewd beauty to speak first. His own black-gold curls stirred in the light wind.
Ninsarina carefully drew an ancient Hittite clay tablet from a linen pouch embroidered with protective symbols. The cuneiform script gleamed with age in the twilight. It bore the ancient treaty between Wilusa and the Hittites.
"Do you recognize this?" she asked softly. Her amber-gold eyes watched his reaction intently.
Aeneas was an educated noble. He could read Hittite cuneiform. His eyes scanned the tablet carefully. Then his fingertips traced its weathered edge. Feeling the texture of centuries.
"The Alaksandu Treaty?" Surprise tinged his voice. "This is over fifty years old. Should be kept as a relic in the Hattusa temples. How did a frontier merchant acquire it?" He looked up, his gaze questioning. "An antique you collected?"
Ninsarina didn't answer immediately. Instead, she slowly removed her ornate shawl. Revealed a precious ornament at her throat—a emerald amulet pendant carved with the image of the storm god Teshup. It shimmered with a mysterious light in the sunset. Aeneas didn't know its exact history, but he recognized it instantly. A treasure of the Hittite royal house.
Her expression grew solemn. Her voice, though soft, now carried authority. "I am not the merchant Lina." She met Aeneas's eyes directly. "I am the only daughter of the former Hittite King Arnuwanda III. My true name is Ninsarina."
The breeze rustled the olive leaves. A soft, whispering accompaniment to this stunning revelation.
"I wish to forge a new partnership," she said, lightly touching the ancient tablet. "With you, Aeneas. Heir to the Dardan lands. To become the new parties to this covenant."
Aeneas's eyes widened in shock. "I heard about the coup in Hattusa eight or nine years ago. The former king was overthrown by Suppiluliuma. The entire family was killed?"
A flash of pain crossed Ninsarina's amber-gold eyes. She nodded slightly. "There was a coup. My uncle, Suppiluliuma, staged a palace revolt. My parents and I... we barely escaped." Her voice trembled. "He hunted us like animals. Wanted to root us out completely."
Her slender frame trembled slightly. Haunted by terrible memories. "That tyrant... wave after wave of bloody purges. Anyone connected to my father was persecuted..." Her fingers twisted unconsciously in the edge of her shawl. "Even now, he searches for us. Exposure means death."
She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders. Fighting the inner chill. "We lived in exile. A small, remote mountain lordship far from Hattusa. Hiding. Scraping by. Relying on a few of my father's contacts who didn't know our true identities. We traded to survive."
Aeneas shook his head slowly. "The new Hittite king is ambitious. He's on bad terms with all his neighbors. A man like that would naturally eliminate the previous dynasty's bloodline." He met Ninsarina's gaze directly. His tone sharpened. "But with all respect, Your Highness, you currently hold no lands of your own."
Ninsarina gripped the edges of the clay tablet. Struggled to maintain royal composure. "Precisely why I need an alliance with someone who actually holds military power—" Her gaze held his, steady and firm. "Like the Lord of the Dardan lands. The man who just made a Trojan prince kneel and beg for mercy."
Aeneas was silent for a moment. He understood the Hittite royal strife now. But he didn't want to get entangled. Couldn't risk bringing that trouble to his doorstep.
"I cannot speak for Troy," he replied carefully. "And you lack the authority to represent Hattusa."
Ninsarina trembled. Her expression turned pitiful. Her amber-gold eyes glistened with unshed tears. A sight designed to soften any heart.
Aeneas was helpless against such a calculating woman. He suspected even this display was carefully crafted. But seeing such a beautiful girl look so sorrowful... He found it hard to refuse outright.
"I don't plan to represent Hattusa. And I don't trust Troy..." Ninsarina's voice was low. "They've proven untrustworthy for decades. But I trust you, Aeneas. You're different."
She looked up. Her tear-bright eyes gazed at him with a sincerity that was hard to doubt. "Just an alliance between you and me? Is that possible? Trade, intelligence, military... whatever level you're comfortable with. Please?"
Aeneas finally raised a hand in surrender. A wry smile touched his lips. "I believe you, too. But my trust isn't yet complete." His tone was gentle. "My promise is this: If you and your family face immediate danger, the Dardan lands will offer limited shelter. We need time to build deeper trust."
Ninsarina's tears vanished instantly. The change was startlingly fast.
She quickly proposed an amendment. "Then let us renew the treaty in our personal names—you, Aeneas, and I, Ninsarina. A private pact for trade and intelligence sharing." Her tone became practical, shrewd. "Limited to goods and information for now. Only minimal military cooperation. We let the process decide if we deepen ties. Agreed?"
Aeneas watched her mercurial expressions. He silently admired her intelligence and flexibility.
He extended his hand. Ninsarina took it. He smiled. "Let's skip the ritual wine! We swear this oath with sincerity and trust. May our bond be long, and our trust eternal."
Ninsarina nodded. She met his gaze seriously. Her voice was solemn and earnest. "By the gods as my witnesses, I, Ninsarina, swear this oath in true faith."
******
The sky had deepened to twilight without them noticing. Ninsarina prepared to lead her merchants back to the Sarduran mountain lordship. The camels and horses were loaded with the traded goods: refined salt and the "Nectar of the Gods." They stood ready, waiting in the rising evening breeze.
Aeneas came to see her off. He watched the prepared caravan. Spoke earnestly. "The mountain path is treacherous. Wouldn't you prefer to stay the night? Leave at first light?"
Ninsarina shook her head. Her dark blue embroidered gown fluttered lightly in the wind. "Thank you for your kindness. But I wish to return home swiftly. My parents will be worried."
Aeneas considered it. The bandits on the trail were cleared out. The journey was safe enough now. He didn't insist.
He turned. Signaled to an attendant. Two wooden chests were brought forward. A mysterious smile played on his lips.
"A local specialty. I think you'll find it interesting." Aeneas lowered his voice, quietly explaining the contents of the chests. Toilet paper. "For, you know, after you use the privy. A farewell to those pottery shards, pebbles, and bone scraps."
A blush spread from the roots of her hair down her neck. She pinched a piece of the soft paper. Spoke in a disbelieving whisper. "Using paper... whiter and softer than papyrus... for... that? Isn't that... terribly extravagant?"
Aeneas laughed easily. His tone was casual. "This paper is made for backsides. No good for writing. Just take it as a local sample. If you like it, we can discuss a price next time."
Next, he personally brought over a two-handled clay jar. It held the top-tier "Nectar of the Gods." He presented it to her solemnly. "The finest grade. For you and your parents to share. It's potent. Remember to sip it. Slowly."
Seeing her confused look, he explained patiently. "'Nectar of the Gods' comes in three grades. The common market sells only the third grade. The one you're taking back. The second grade is sold exclusively at the Aphrodite Temple in Maple Ridge lands." He paused. A note of pride entered his voice. "But the highest grade? Only available here at the estate. For gifts. Or for our most esteemed guests. But we're allies now. If you need more, we can talk."
Ninsarina bowed gracefully. Her demeanor was poised. "Thank you for your generous gifts. I look forward to our continued partnership. I'm certain our mutual trust will only deepen with time."
In the thickening dusk, she led her caravan away. Her dark blue form melted into the gathering dark. Only the fading chime of camel bells lingered on the wind. Aeneas stood his ground. Watched until the clever Hittite princess vanished from sight.