The afternoon at Cape Sigeon was brutally hot. The sun god Apollo seemed to pour all his fury upon the headland.
The waves of the Hellespont smashed against the rocks. The spray glittered in the fierce sunlight. Like scattered diamonds on dark blue velvet.
The Temple of Apollo at Sigeon stood atop the highest point of the cape. The marble columns shone white as bone, throwing off a hard glare. From afar, the temple looked like a pearl crown set on the cliff.
Inside, Helenus paced the inner hall. The hem of his fine robe stirred with every sharp turn. He looked like a bright bird caught in a cage.
His face had the color of storm clouds. The eyes once calm and holy now burned with fury.
Damn those Amazons. Damn the Dardan lands. Damn them all to Hades! How did my plan fail?
Helenus's inner rage seethed. His fingers unconsciously twisted the Apollo amulet at his chest, its symbol of sun and serpent.
A servant, disguised as a traveler, knelt on a lavish woven carpet. His whole body trembled with fear. Sweat dripped from his brow, leaving dark stains on the priceless fabric.
"Your… arranged… mission to rob and kill the Amazon… the Amazon trade party… is confirmed complete!" The servant's voice was fractured by terror. Each word caught in his throat.
Helenus shot to his feet in a rage. He hurled his golden wine cup at the kneeling man.
The gem-encrusted cup traced a glittering arc. A dull thud as it struck the servant's forehead.
The kneeling man was knocked sideways. Blood immediately mixed with wine streamed down his face. It stained the ornate rug a deep, ugly color. Like a blossoming flower of death.
"I asked: My guard unit? Repeat what you just said!" His voice was shrill with anger. All traces of the high priest's usual dignity were gone.
Ignoring his injury, the servant immediately prostrated himself. His voice shook even more violently. "They… were wiped out… exterminated by the young master of the Dardan lands, Aeneas, and his men! All twenty-five elites! Not a single survivor!"
Helenus rose from his gilded chair with a hard stomp. He crossed the floor in quick, angry strides. His rich robes flared behind him.
He seized the servant's tunic with both hands. Fire burned in his eyes, barely held in check.
"My woman?" His voice was low, dangerous. Each word seemed squeezed out between his teeth. It carried a chilling menace.
A foul-smelling liquid suddenly dripped from beneath the servant. He had lost control in his terror. He could barely stand. His voice trembled almost beyond recognition.
"Thaleia… Lady Thaleia… it seems… some say… she was… with Aeneas… perhaps… a concubine…"
I'm finished. I'm dead this time… Who can survive Prince Helenus's wrath? The servant's mind filled with despair. His life felt like the foam shattered against the rocks outside the window.
Helenus shoved the soiled servant to the floor. He turned back to his golden chair and let out a furious, guttural roar.
"Guards! Guards! Where the hell are the guards!"
Three Trojan hoplites in bronze armor rushed into the chamber. They knelt in unison on one knee. Their armor clattered sharply.
"Your Highness! We await your command!" Their voices were perfectly synchronized. But a flicker of barely perceptible fear showed in their downcast eyes.
Helenus sat down gracefully, as if his recent fury had never happened.
But his outstretched finger trembled slightly as he pointed at the crumpled form on the floor.
"This wretch dared to lie to me! Dared to speak the name of my beloved woman!
I sentence him to death. Take him away—hang him!"
The guards expressionlessly hauled away the servant, now limp as a rag doll. They quickly withdrew from the chamber. Helenus sat alone on his golden throne. His fingers clutched the armrests. Knuckles white.
The servant's pleas trailed off down the hall. Then Helenus snapped.
Like a beast let loose. He kicked the sandalwood table, sent it crashing. Ivory chairs toppled after it. He slammed priceless painted pottery vases and silver jugs against the walls. The chamber was instantly trashed. Shards and spilled liquor flew everywhere. The pungent scent of wine filled the room.
"Aeneas, you Dardanian trash!" Helenus's roar echoed through the chamber. His once-handsome face was twisted with rage.
"You dare kill my men? You dare touch my woman? I'll tear you apart! I'll **** every woman you love right in front of you! Starting with your whore of a mother!"
His noble facade shattered completely. Vile, crude curses spewed from the mouth of the exalted prince. Every bit of his priestly cultivation vanished in that moment.
Just then, light footsteps sounded at the entrance. Deiphobus strolled in casually. A smirk of schadenfreude played on his lips. His steps were as light as if he were heading to a banquet.
"My dear brother…" Deiphobus began with feigned concern, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him. "Who has reduced you to this state? The noble Prince of Troy, the holy High Priest of the Sigeon Temple of Apollo… in such a rage? Who would dare such insolence?"
Helenus glared at him with pure venom. He looked ready to pounce and tear his gloating brother to pieces.
"Deiphobus!? Have you come to mock me?" Helenus spat through clenched teeth. "Shouldn't you be in the city, tending to the Goddess Athena? What brings you here? Aren't you afraid little Polyxena will grow up and replace you as High Priest in a few years?"
Deiphobus's smug smile vanished quick. He looked like he'd stepped in something foul.
He drew a few deep breaths. His fingers moved on their own, brushing the poison ring on his left hand. This seemed to steady him.
"I'm here out of concern for you," Deiphobus said smoothly, adjusting his sleeves with an elegance that erased his brief lapse. "I heard the news. I even sacrificed a plump pigeon to divine for you. The Goddess's message was… a 'Warning'!"
"A 'Warning'?!" Helenus let out a shrill, disbelieving roar. "That filth steals my revenue, slaughters my men, takes my woman, and the Goddess gives me a 'Warning'?"
His handsome face was now demonic—twisted and grotesque.
No trace remained of the gentle, refined high priest.
Deiphobus's expression was one of benevolent comfort. But his eyes held a calculating glint, like a viper lurking in the grass. "That is precisely why, for the sake of my dear brother, I have come to offer you solace… and counsel!"
His voice was soft, yet filled with insinuation. "A woman… You are a Prince. You needn't bother with these petty schemes. Just go and demand her! Surely the boy wouldn't defy you over a mere concubine?"
Deiphobus gave a soft, humorless chuckle. A fearsome cobra suddenly slithered from within his sleeve. He toyed with it idly, his fingertips stroking its menacing head as if it were a tame pet.
"Though, demanding her outright… is rather crude. Lacks elegance…" he continued, as the snake coiled slowly around his wrist. "Perhaps you could 'tour the borderlands' in your capacity as a Prince of Troy? And while there… collect a little gift?"
"They say this boy is… quite the fierce warrior…" Deiphobus's voice grew even softer, but each word was as dangerous as a serpent's tongue. "But fierce men… are so prone to 'little accidents', aren't they?"
He kept up his low, sinister laughter. His handsome face looked truly frightening in the chamber's shadows. "Ah! For a young, brave hero to die in an accident… such a tragedy…"
A cold laugh echoed in Deiphobus's mind. Let this fool deal with Aeneas. Whoever wins, I profit. His face stayed calm, all brotherly concern. The snake in his hand shifted, sensing its master's mood. A sharp hiss broke out.
Something lit in Helenus's eyes. Like he'd found the key to his problem at last. He turned and strode out, robes sweeping behind him.
In the wide plaza of Apollo's Sigeon Temple, fifty guards stood in line.
Their bronze armor burned under the afternoon sun. Spears rose like a forest. The sea breeze stirred the red plumes on their helmets.
This time that country fool would learn his place.
Helenus looked over his chosen men, vengeance hot in his chest. He climbed the marble dais, straight-backed, every inch a prince again.
"I shall journey to the remote Dardan lands," his voice boomed with authority, echoing across the square,
"To bring the merciful light of Apollo and the glory of the King to that backwater! I have heard that my concubine, Thaleia, has found herself there—
The Dardanians must learn gratitude and fear! They will hand over my beloved, alive or dead! And they will offer tribute to both god and king!"
The guards immediately raised their spears in unison. Their synchronized shout shook the very sky.
They were equipped with the finest Trojan royal guard gear of the late Bronze Age. Their bronze armor shone. The blades of their spears reflected a dangerous, cold light.
The setting sun painted the headland in gold and red. From the colonnade's shadow, Deiphobus watched. A thin smile tugged at his lips. He looked pleased with himself. His fingers brushed the snake hidden in his sleeve. Soft. Almost fond.
Night dropped fast. The temple shifted, uneasy. Torches flared between the pillars, smoke curling up the stone. Old Actor led the prayer, his beard lit by firelight. Lines cut deep across his face, heavy with worry.
"Your Highness, Prince Deiphobus brought the divine message from Athena," the old priest's voice trembled with age, but his tone was firm, "We beg you, do not defy the god's will!"
Helenus was furious. His fists clenched within his sleeves. But facing the entire priesthood, he dared not handle it with brute force. He had to suppress his rage and communicate.
"If that is the case," Helenus said, his voice dripping with displeasure, "I shall perform another divination before all of you! Let Lord Apollo himself guide us!"
Surrounded by the watching priests, Helenus knelt before the statue of Apollo.
He placed burning herbs upon a greased ox skull. The flames suddenly leapt high. Smoke coiled, filling the temple with a strange, aromatic scent.
When the smoke and ash revealed a pattern of 'Blood and Fire', Helenus let out a twisted laugh. The elder priests exchanged worried glances.
"See! Apollo stands with me!" Helenus rose excitedly, ignoring the priests' concerned looks, "This is an omen of vengeance and victory!"
The divination result was indeed 'Blood and Fire'. But… whose 'Blood and Fire' was it? Elder Priest Actor's heart was heavy. The young… they always see only what they want to see.
Far away in Dardan lands, Thaleia woke from a nightmare. Moonlight spilled through the window lattice, pale and cold. It touched her face, still tight with fear. She pulled her knees close, shaking in the corner of the bed. Strong body trembling, like a trapped doe in the dark.
"He's coming… He will surely come…" she whispered, her voice filled with dread, "Young Master Aeneas… Young Master Aeneas…"
Tears traced paths down the maiden's cheeks, glistening like pearls in the moonlight. A distant crisis was approaching. And her intuition already felt the coming storm.