The trial was brief.
The council chamber was packed, every seat filled, every councillor present. Priam had insisted on attending, carried in on his litter by four guards, his face pale but his eyes clear. Hecuba sat beside him, her hand resting on his arm. Hector stood at the head of the table, still wearing the blood-stained armour from the night before. He had not slept. He had not changed. He had no intention of doing either until this was finished.
The High Priest of Athena was brought in chains. His white robes were gone, replaced by the rough wool of a prisoner. His hands were bound before him. His pale eyes were still untroubled, still fixed on something beyond the walls of the chamber. He walked to the centre of the room and stood before the council, and he did not bow.
