O sacred city, built by hands divine!
O valiant heroes of the Trojan line!
-Virgil. The Aeneid. Book II
After the passing of a few years, most of the court had forgotten the child. Even Hecuba, for whom it took years to recover, took enjoyment in the raising of her children. Frolicking in the garden during most of the hot afternoons, the children of Priam's palace swiftly began to grow into adulthood. The games of make-believe soon turned into actual sword play, while the careless chases through the serene parks grew into lengthy hours of intense physical training. In my mind's eye, the days stand out as clear and fluid, dreams of a past I cannot forget.
It was a day both humid and warm. The sun bore down upon glistening Troy and made the distant Aegean seem like a sapphire jewel dotted strikingly with remote islands and Greek triremes. I stood watching the far-off waves lap against the Trojan shore wondering as to when I would finally sail into the Grecian mainland. It was a dream I secretly harboured within the depths of my desires. Few knew of my wish to sail away from Troy and settle in a far-off land. My thoughts were disturbed by the scrape of a foot beside me.
"Aeneas, I knew I'd find you here"
It was the delighted voice of Creusa. She placed her hands next to mine upon the wall and looked out over Troy and the sea beyond. There was a moment of silence as the two of us stood together. It was the comfortable silence of companionship, a gentle atmosphere of calm. The warm winds blowing from the south whispered through my hair and clothes, leaving droplets of sweat upon my skin. I smiled lovingly at Priam's daughter and placed my hand upon hers, letting my fingers slip in between her fingers.
"Be careful, cousin. If father were to catch us, we'd certainly have a lot to answer for" her voice was crisp, like the break of dawn, yet there was a tender undertone to it. She looked quite fetching in the pastel coloured tunic she wore and her flaxen hair shone radiantly in the afternoon sun.
"I love you, Creusa. I wish to ask Priam for your hand in marriage"
Creusa let out a peal of mocking laughter. Pulling her hand out from underneath mine, she covered her mouth to stifle the uncontrollable giggles. I felt my irritation rise.
"It's not funny, Cree"
"Aeneas, you are barely seventeen years of age. Father will never permit such an early engagement" Even at fifteen, she sounded older than most women twice her age. Born after Paris and before the twins Cassandra and Helenus, Creusa took on the role of eldest daughter to heart. Even as we spoke, her eyes were constantly darting towards the Palace, looking out for her younger brothers and sisters. She stroked the length of my jaw with her fingers and lifted her face to kiss my cheek. I pulled her into my embrace and our lips met for the briefest of moments.
From within the palace, the sounds of a crying child rose. Creusa managed a quick peck before she dashed into the Palace, her sandals slapping against the marble ground. I stood there quietly for a moment as the cross voice of Priam's eldest daughter rang in the heavy air.
"Helenus! How many times must I stop you from pulling your sister's hair? No...stop! Give that back to her. Helenus!" The crying rose to an all out bawl before Creusa managed to get whatever it was Helenus was doing to stop. "There, there Cassandra. It's alright. Hush now. Don't cry, bad Helenus is gone now..."
I smiled and shook my head. My Cree really was something else. I then turned heel and headed through the Palace towards the stables.
I met Hector there grooming one of my father's stallions. Although he was only two years older, the heir to Troy's throne stood some good four inches taller than me. He had grown swiftly and looked every inch the warrior that he was. He outclassed me in just about everything the two of us did. Be it archery, swordsmanship or even horse riding, Hector always proved to be my better, regardless of circumstance.
"Ready to ride, brother?" he said, tossing me a saddle.
"I'm always ready. But the real question is, are you ready to ride, Hector?" There was a challenge in my voice, a challenge which hinted at mockery. Strapping the saddle to a fiery tempered mare, I leapt up onto the beast's back and nudged it forward. Beside me, Hector did the same, saddling the same horse he groomed just seconds ago.
As we emerged from my father's spotlessly clean stables, a sly smile crept up across my face. Urging the beast forward, I was soon was galloping through the streets of Troy, tearing through the marketplace and heading for the towering gates. Behind me, Hector kept pace with my mare, inching closer to finally break out on my right. Flashing me a grin, he rushed past my black steed and hurtled through the gates. Not to be undone, I gave a chase, pushing my mount to sprint faster. From beyond the gates, I could hear Hector's taunting voice.
"Just give up, Aeneas. Its no use" His powerful voice rang. It was followed by a good natured laugh which irked me further. Not bothering to reply, I tore past the massive gates and emerged upon the plains before Troy. Hector stood waiting for me, his grin fixed in place. The horse he rode wasn't even winded, a sign of eminent selective breeding. As my mare neared his stallion, Hector untied a flask of water and pitched it towards me. I downed the water with quick succession.
"Well, what took you so long?"
"It didn't take me long. It took you an abnormally short time. That beast you ride is no ordinary horse" I countered, running my hand through my mare's mane. "Chloris here, on the other hand, is" Even though my father had offered me one of his prized stallions, descendants of divine steeds themselves, I declined. For some odd reason, Chloris, since her birth, had been my favourite.
"Very well then, cousin. Shall we go?" Hector asked. It was clear he wished to change the subject. Hector always had been somewhat of a fair player. To accuse him of cheating would be to hurt his honour, one of the many things he valued above all else. Urging his stallion forward Hector spurred the mount into a slow gait, heading for mount Ida. I followed silently, letting the serenity of this hot summer's day to the talking for both of us.
The plain before Troy was vast and stark. Little vegetation grew upon it, giving it the appearance of a dry desert, leading to the mighty Aegean in the west. As we trotted to the banks of the Skamandros, the scenery began to change markedly. The mighty river, sourcing beyond mount Ida, ran swiftly through the dry plains, leaving lush vegetation and arable land in its wake. This was where Troy's food came from. Both banks of the river were dotted with farms built to provide food for the growing host of Trojan mouths.
As Hector rode through, he was waved at by the farmers, sweating in the fields trying to reap the bountiful autumn harvest. Many invited the young prince inside to dine and share a few drinks. These offers Hector declined, but he promised to visit again sometime soon just to feast with the farmers.
As we rode past one final farming village, a young teenager ran towards us from the river.
"Princes!" He shouted, clearly out of breath. "Something's happened!"
Hector slipped off his saddle and I followed suit. Nearing the child, Hector knelt to place a strong hand upon that frail shoulder and comforted the frightened teen.
"What happened?" He asked, as I towered above the two.
Tears were streaking down the child's dust marked face and his whole body was quivering.
"Prince Hector. My father rode out yesterday with men from the village to meet a group of mercenaries from the Hittite lands. They spoke of fighting and defending the harvest. Today the mercenaries sent the severed head of our village elder demanding we either hand over the food and women tonight, or face pillaging" The boy sobbed through his words. His eyes were wide with fright, and for a moment I pitied him. Then I realised I should have pitied myself.
"Where is this mercenary camp?"
The child taught for a moment. "At the base of Mount Ida, near the City of Thebe, where the river meets the mountain. It's not very hard to miss"
Hector patted the teen's head and rose, there was a fire in his pale eyes; a fire I knew all too well.
"We'll take care of those mercenaries. You just go tell that to your village. Come, Aeneas" His voice carried authority, and soon the young boy was sprinting towards the far village. I suddenly snapped to attention.
"Wait. You cant be serious!" I sputtered.
"I am serious, cousin" he replied, launching himself onto his horse.
"Shouldn't we go get some soldiers from Troy?" I asked as I sat down in my saddle.
"Are you afraid, Aeneas?" he stopped to ask.
"No. But, being afraid is one thing, being stupid is another. Why cant we just-"
"By then, brother, it would be too late. I know Hittites. They'll attack as soon as possible. We don't have much time. Either you come with me, or I go alone" With that said, he nudged his horse into a mad sprint, soon he was heading along the north bank of the river towards Mount Ida.
I sighed deeply and followed suit. I absently wondered if I'd survive long enough to see my Cree tonight...