Deep in the woods, sunlight fought its way through the leaves. Spots of light danced on the ground, thick with rot and wet leaves.
Between the roots of an old oak, Sergestus leaned against the trunk.
His face, once handsome, now gray and dull. The band on his chest was dark red, soaked through. It stank—putrid smell.
Each breath came rough and torn. A rasp slipped from his cracked lips.
"Brother! Hold on, please. I'll find that young lord... They say he's a good man. He can save you... Just hold on..." Thaleia's trembling hand wiped cold sweat from her brother's brow again. Tears traced lines through the dirt on her cheeks. But she forced herself to stay calm. She checked his wounds carefully. Her eyes scanned the surrounding woods. Watching for scavengers drawn by the scent of dying prey.
Sergestus forced his heavy eyelids open. He used all his strength to grip his sister's wrist.
"Thaleia... Listen! My wound doesn't matter... You must go back... Lead our people away... Those men... they will come looking... soon. Get everyone to safety... Live..." The fever made his mind drift in and out. But his instinct to protect his sister and their people never wavered.
Thaleia shook her head stubbornly. She fought back tears. "I will save you! You're all the family I have left! I won't leave you!
I... I'll find Aeneas. The young master of Dardan. They say he helps the poor. He can save you!" Before he could protest, she deftly shoved the water skin and last bit of food into his hand. Turned. Vanished into the trees like a startled doe.
Sergestus breathed weakly. Could only watch her disappear. He murmured, "But... we're not nobles anymore... He won't... won't bother..." His voice faded, swallowed by the forest wind. Only the foul smell of his wound lingered.
Meanwhile, on a sun-dappled path in Maple Ridge, Aeneas walked leisurely with his guards.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves. The air smelled of wildflowers and pine.
He looked around with keen interest. Seemed to be in a good mood.
(Finally done with the sacrifice. Huh... Troy's forests are pretty nice 3000 years ago. Wonder how they ended up so barren later... Hey... hope those kids are settling in okay at the manor...)
His thoughts drifted. Then a figure burst from the roadside bushes. Fell to her knees before him.
It was a young woman in a coarse, dirt-stained robe. Her face was streaked with tears and sweat. Dark hair stuck to her cheeks in tangled strands.
"Shield the young master!" Achates moved like a panther. Placed himself between Aeneas and the girl. His right hand went to his short sword.
Nisus and Euryalus nocked arrows in one fluid motion.
Nisus's deep green eyes scanned the area. "No ambush," he confirmed quietly.
Euryalus tilted his head, puzzled. His bow remained aimed at the kneeling girl. "It's a girl?"
Aeneas just stared dumbfounded at the prostrate stranger.
(I just delivered a boar to the temple. Why is someone kneeling in the road? Did she get the wrong guy?)
Thaleia lifted her tear-streaked face. Her voice trembled with desperation.
"Noble Lord Aeneas, I beg you! Save my brother! He... he's dying!"
Her fingers clutched the rough fabric of her robe. Her knuckles were white. But her deep brown eyes held a fire. A mix of despair and desperate hope. Even her falling tears couldn't extinguish it.
The forest wind seemed to still. Only the girl's ragged breaths remained.
Thaleia bowed low again on the dusty path. Her whole body shook with fear and despair.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Fell onto the dry earth. Made dark spots in the dirt.
"Lord Aeneas, please... please save my brother!" Thaleia's voice broke with sobs.
"His wounds are terrible. He's... he's fading..."
Aeneas ran a hand through his dark-gold curls. He frowned slightly. His tone was gentle but puzzled. "I'm not a physician... Why come to me instead of a healer?"
"I didn't know who else to ask," Thaleia's weeping was stark in the quiet woods. She wiped her face with a dirty sleeve. Only smeared the grime and tears. Made herself look more wretched.
"But you must know someone who can help him! Please! I'm begging you!"
Her voice suddenly firmed. A flash of resolve in her deep brown eyes.
"I'll do anything for you... Give you everything. I know about the eastern bandits. Please, save my brother..."
The words "eastern bandits" cut through the air like lightning. Everyone's expression shifted instantly.
Even Euryalus, who'd been watching the girl with a grin, went still. The easy look on his face was gone. His usually playful eyes turned sharp as a hawk's. His face became grim. Like a different man.
Aeneas's focus snapped into place. He stepped forward, past Achates's protective stance.
"You know about the eastern bandits?" He paused. Then waved a decisive hand. "No! First, let's see your brother. Lead the way!"
Achates's mouth opened slightly. He seemed to want to say something. But he stayed silent.
He knew how seriously Aeneas took any lead on the Red Bean Forest bandits—
These brutes had attacked at least three merchant trains recently. Dozens of casualties. No... just deaths... They left no survivors.
As a loyal guard, he couldn't stop his young master without clear danger. Not yet.
So Achates signaled Nisus and Euryalus with a look.
The two brothers immediately showed their skill as expert hunters. They moved through the nearby undergrowth like trained hounds.
Nisus's deep green eyes scanned every shadow. Euryalus silently climbed an oak tree. Watched the whole area from above. For any sign of movement.
Thaleia scrambled to her feet. Wiped her tears on her muddy sleeve. Turned to lead them deeper into the woods.
Her steps were hurried, but she moved with a hill-person's lightness. Avoiding dry twigs that might snap.
By a bend of the southern Scamander, an old oak stood. Its roots twisted deep into the earth, like claws. Sergestus lay slumped in a natural hollow formed by them. He was completely unconscious. The gentle rush of the stream was starkly clear in the silent forest. Achates swiftly knelt on one knee. He checked the injuries. He expertly unwound the blood-soaked cloth from Sergestus's chest. Examined the wound and his vital signs.
His brow furrowed tightly when he saw the gash. It was deep enough to show bone. The edges were black and festering.
"The serious wound is about three days old. It's already rotting. He needs treatment fast. Or he won't last," Achates said, looking up at Aeneas.
Just then, Nisus, who was keeping watch, interjected quietly. His deep green eyes still scanned the surroundings. "Lady Oenone is nearby. Her temple is less than a mile upstream, on the opposite bank."
"Oenone?" Aeneas instantly recalled the alluring physician. The embarrassing memory of being teased by her when he first arrived in this world surfaced.
But his mother had introduced her as a "highly skilled" physician.
He remembered seeing her at Aphrodite's temple today for the boar sacrifice. She hadn't brought her mischievous younger sister. She was probably still at her family's temple.
"Let's move. Get the wounded man to a physician. Now," Aeneas nodded, making the decision instantly.
At a look from Nisus, Euryalus crouched down with a pained expression. He carefully hoisted the unconscious Sergestus onto his back.
He staggered slightly as he stood, clearly feeling the man's weight.
The group moved quickly along the forest path. Headed for the small bridge upstream.
The only sounds were their footsteps on the leaves and Thaleia's continued, quiet sobs.
The sound of the stream grew louder as they moved. Euryalus trudged on, struggling under Sergestus's weight. Sweat dripped from his forehead.
His face was a mask of resentment. His mouth was set in an exaggerated frown.
Euryalus started muttering under his breath. "One stray yesterday... another one today... The manor's turning into a hospital..."
He adjusted the weight on his back. Grumbled on. "Couldn't you at least pick pretty patients, master? This one's heavy as a rock. And his wound stinks to high heaven..."
Nisus had had enough. He hissed a sharp rebuke. "Shut your mouth..." His sharp gaze warned Euryalus, who reluctantly fell silent. But he kept the same "I'm so bloody hard done by" look on his face.