Morning light wove a golden net through the grapevine trellises. The estate's corridors were filled with the warm scent of breakfast. The sweet aroma of baked flatbread and honey drifted between the pillars. Footsteps startled the doves under the eaves. Aeneas entered the dining hall, Thaleia a step behind him.
The lady seated at the head of the table stirred her bowl gracefully with a silver spoon. Her honey-gold hair fell like a curtain in the morning light. Her blue eyes swept over the faint, poorly concealed mark on her son's neck. A gentle smile touched her lips.
Aeneas noticed everyone was looking at him and Thaleia. Their expressions were a mix of knowing amusement and anticipation.
The attendant placing the clay plates moved with unusual quietness. Even the maid pouring goat's milk from a bronze pitcher had laughter lines crinkling the corners of her eyes.
Aeneas saw Aresya's benevolent smile. A shiver ran down his spine. That little blabbermouth Terani! She definitely told. Mother knows... He could easily picture the lively young maid, cheeks flushed, whispering her startling morning discovery into the lady's ear.
Just as Thaleia moved to pull out a chair for Aeneas, Aresya gestured softly to her. "Sit here beside me, child."
No sooner had she sat down than Aresya nodded and smiled at her son. "There is much to do in the lordship. No need to rush everything at once. It's good to see you finally appreciating life's... sweeter pleasures. It makes your mother happy."
Anchises stroked his beard, smiling. He seemed to be recalling his own arduous, wonderful youth spent courting Aresya. The man, usually grim-faced from his limp, now had laugh lines at his eyes as deep as the gullies on Mount Ida.
His mother kindly pushed a pottery bowl full of honey toward Thaleia. "The goat's milk this morning has date blossom honey in it. Excellent for restoring one's energy. You should eat plenty. You'll need your strength after such a... busy night." Aeneas choked. The tips of Thaleia's ears burned crimson.
Anchises pretended deep focus on cutting his bread. A rare lapse from his usual sternness. "I heard the doves in the northwest corner of the estate were particularly joyful this morning? It seems even the birds were singing for us."
Aeneas coughed violently, choking on his flatbread. Thaleia's ears turned redder as she stirred her bowl. The clink of her silver spoon against clay was the only sound besides his parents' knowing, soft laughter. Aeneas grabbed a still-warm flatbread and bolted for the door. "I have work to do! The lordship needs rebuilding! I need to count the ransom, then head to the river valley town!"
He fled the dining room. Behind him, he heard Thaleia's embarrassed murmur and his parents' pleased laughter.
In the front courtyard, the olive wood chests gleamed in the morning sun. Five Talents of gold were stacked in neat rows on a cart. Ready for the trip to the river valley town.
The ingots, stamped with the Trojan lion emblem, glittered on their rough hemp padding. As the cart wheels rolled over the cobblestones, the gold ingots clinked together with a clear, pleasing sound.
Achates's reed stylus dug deep grooves into his wax tablet. "As you planned. One Talent for compensating the affected families and rebuilding the sixteen burned homes. One Talent for reconstructing the destroyed watchtower and soldiers' medical expenses. One Talent to expand the longbow corps to fifty men. The remaining..."
Aeneas hefted an ingot bearing the Trojan lion. "Set aside half a Talent for operating funds. Pour the rest into the new defense system. This gold must become nourishment for the lordship's strength." His fingertips traced the casting seam on the ingot's edge. The cool metal reminded him of the warmth of Thaleia's skin last night. The thought made him release the gold quickly.
He suddenly tapped the ingot against the side of the cart. "Remember the rewards for the warriors who distinguished themselves in the battle. Arrange it before the compensation is paid to the people. Let them remember who protected them in the fighting."
He paused. Added, "The rewards must be generous. Let every soldier know we see their deeds. And that we repay them." The words hung firm in the morning air. The guards pushing the cart straightened their postures. Their leather armor creaked with the movement.
******
When they reached the town, the carpenter's workshop, erected just yesterday, was already engulfed in the fragrant cloud of flying sawdust. Aeneas, a piece of charcoal in hand, sketched a design onto a cedar board. A design for a Roman-style Pilum murale with points at both ends.
He drew a two-and-a-half-meter oak stake. Both ends were tapered into four-sided pyramids. A handgrip, about fifteen centimeters wide, remained at the center. "This grip lets you lash three or four stakes together. Quickly. Firmly. They become an instant anti-cavalry barrier. When the enemy charges, these angled stakes will rip through their ranks like rotten linen."
Old Hephaestus traced the numerical notations on the design, muttering, "This isn't carpentry... it's magic. Making wood grow wolf's fangs..." His calloused fingers followed the charcoal lines. His grizzled eyebrows shot up in astonishment.
Aeneas laughed and shook his head. "This has many uses. Don't be surprised so fast!"
He took a model oak stake from an apprentice. With a twist of his wrist, he drove its point into the soft earth at an angle. "You can also plant single stakes in the ground. Or fix them to walls. As needed. It makes any defensive line terrifying." Several watching soldiers instinctively touched their leather armor. As if already feeling the cold bite of those pyramids piercing flesh.
Aeneas pressed the design into the old carpenter's trembling hand. "Make many. Our soldiers need to set up three staggered layers at key points. Ten paces between each layer. We'll make the invaders pay in blood for every step."
Next, he visited the site of the burned watchtower. The charred wood and broken walls were already cleared. A hundred soldiers, under Callippus's direction, swung shovels, digging into the earth. The dull thuds of tools biting into scorched soil rose and fell. Sweat carved shiny tracks down the warriors' bronze backs.
Aeneas decided to build a stronger, fortified barracks at this key location. It would also train his men in rapid camp construction. A skill the Romans would master centuries later to dominate Europe. Good to learn it early.
Euryalus noticed his arrival. He held up a soil-filled sack comically, groaning, "My lord! This is worse than charging with a shield!"
Aeneas hefted a sandbag. Helped stack it on the breastwork. "Imagine you're building a wall with enemy corpses. Though I'd recommend dirt. Corpses tend to smell." He flipped the heavy bag with a practiced wrist. It settled neatly into a gap in the line.
He grinned, pointing at the trench being dug. "See? We use the excavated earth for these. That gives us two defensive lines!"
Then he frowned. "But we're not fast enough. Not skilled enough. We need to build more camps. For practice."
Euryalus wailed. "Not fast enough? More camps? My lord, are you training warriors or laborers?" He gazed despairingly at the distant mountain of empty sacks.
Aeneas laughed. "The day you can build a secure camp in half a day, a camp you can sleep safely in, is the day you can stand behind its walls and pick off the enemy with your yew longbows at your leisure. Don't you want to be an undefeatable army?"
Before the words faded, several longbowmen stacking walls straightened up. They turned to stare at him dumbfounded. Not just Euryalus. Even the quiet Nisus's eyes lit up. They imagined it. Standing safe within a sturdy camp, reaping enemy lives... The hunters unconsciously rubbed the bowstring calluses on their fingers. Their Adam's apples bobbed with yearning. That did... sound pretty good.
At noon, when the sandbag defenses were combined with the wall spear array for the first time, Achates drew a sharp breath. "If we deploy these widely across our lands... we could perhaps resist an army ten times our size." The witnesses stared dumbly at the new defensive works. Achates's claim didn't seem exaggerated.
Nisus and Euryalus looked over the camp in silence. They nodded. Their morning's hardship felt worth it. The staggered wall spears cast jagged shadows in the slanting sun. The low wall of sandbags resembled the hunched spine of some great beast. The entire camp looked like a giant, bristling hedgehog.
Captain Callippus stood outside the camp, laughing heartily. "My lord! This camp is brilliant! Far better than our current barracks! Should we just rebuild all the barracks in the lordship?" His face, scarred from old battles, shone with excitement. His bare chest heaved, his gear rubbing with a happy sound.
Aeneas gave a wry smile. "That might strain our funds a bit. But if Deiphobus's five Talents of gold arrive... we'll have enough. We can renovate all the barracks. Strengthen everything again." His gaze swept over the nascent fortifications. It, too, was full of anticipation.
******
The afternoon sun bathed the entrance to the Dardan river valley town. The ancient olive tree swayed in the breeze, its silver-green leaves rustling. A temporary wooden table stood in its shade. The people of the lordship gathered around it. Their eyes were fixed on the heavy pile of gold ingots upon it.
The air was thick with anticipation and curiosity. The occasional sound of children's laughter wove through the crowd as they darted between the adults.
Aeneas stood behind the table. The sunlight caught his black-gold curls, creating a faint halo. He had deliberately worn his formal lord's attire. Over his shoulders was draped the golden fleece cloak of the Dardan house—a treasure he had specifically borrowed from his mother's Aphrodite temple. A lesser piece, but impressive nonetheless.
When he picked up the first bag of gold fragments, the crowd fell silent.
"Nestor. Step forward."
The old sentry shuffled out from the crowd. His wrinkled hands trembled slightly as they touched the money pouch. When the measured gold—a hundred Obols' worth in raw ingots—fell into his palm, he nearly dropped the heavy reward.
"At my age... and I didn't even fight the enemy," Nestor's voice was hoarse with emotion, the deep sockets of his eyes growing red, "How can I be counted a hero who saved the village?"
Aeneas stepped around the table. Steadied the old soldier's shoulder. Everyone could see their young lord's expression clearly.
"If you hadn't been the first to light the beacon fire yesterday, if you hadn't retreated with the new recruits from the watchtower in time, warning people to take shelter along the way, Helenus's forces would have caused far greater damage." Aeneas's voice was clear and firm, carrying to everyone. "Your vigilance against danger surpassed that of younger soldiers. Your wise judgment spared us the grief of losing our people. The Dardan lands need not just courage, but experience and wisdom like yours."
He smiled, gently patting the back of the old sentry's hand. The intimate gesture caused a soft murmur in the crowd.
"Please, accept it with a quiet heart. This reward is yours by right."
Nestor finally closed his fingers. Clutched the bag of coins tightly. The sum was equal to a full year's earnings for him. The clink of the gold made every soldier and commoner present draw an envious, heavy breath. Countless gazes grew hot with desire.
Aeneas observed their reactions with quiet satisfaction. This was proper motivation, he thought. Let everyone know the Dardan lands reward those who serve faithfully. That's how you foster loyalty and vitality.
Just as he prepared to call the next recipient, Achates approached quickly from the edge of the crowd. He leaned in, whispering into Aeneas's ear, "My lord, Deiphobus's five Talents of gold have arrived!"
Aeneas's eyebrows rose slightly. But he quickly regained his composure. He nodded to the waiting people, then murmured to Achates, "Have them taken back to the estate. Inform my parents. We will decide its use together later."
Achates departed on his errand. Aeneas turned back to the ceremony. But his thoughts were already flying toward that newly arrived fortune. And how to turn it into strength for the Dardan lands.