Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw
Their native air, nor take a foreign law!
Virgil. The Aeneid. Book X
I recall little of our return journey to Troy. As we rode slowly through the Trojan countryside, Hector was lost in thought and I had been struggling to stay conscious. The night was silent and cool, much like most nights around the peaceful Aegean and a slight wind was blowing through my hair. Stopping at the river twice to rest and dress my wounds, we made very little conversation and were mostly occupied by our own thoughts. I was recovering swiftly and the wound had already begun to heal. Something told me external forces were at play, my mother perhaps.
Continuing our ride, the two of us crested one final hill before the brilliance of Troy was laid before us. The city stood shimmering before us like a beacon of light radiating power and wealth. Far more populous than Mycenae or even Athens, Troy had become the paragon of the Aegean. Built ages ago by the hands of Apollo and Poseidon themselves, the city walls towered thirty feet into the air. Meticulous planning and immeasurable wealth created a flawless interior ripe with temples, palaces and gardens. Even the Babylonians had stared in awe when presented before Priam's palace.
This was Troy, my Troy. The Jewel of the Aegean.
As we entered the city of kings, I was ushered towards the temple of Asclepius, God of medicine and healing. There, my wounds were checked and covered with a fresh layer of poultice and I was given an herbal broth to drink. The healers then pronounced me fit enough to return to the palace the next morning. Laid down upon a fresh bed, I was left in a private room to heal.
"Aeneas" The voice called to me. It was soft and silvery, like rain, and a gentle light had flowed into my room. From this light, my mother, in all her brilliance, stepped out next to my cot. Sitting down next to where I lay, she smiled warmly and kissed my brow. I felt a heat caress my forehead and all the day's tension and pain drifted away.
"How are you, my cherished one?" she asked, as my eyes fluttered open.
I let a wry smile cross my face. "Did you heal me, mother?"
"The wound would have grown gangrenous and you'd have passed out from the pain, my dearest. I, like any mother, cannot see my child in pain" she said. "I did it while you were fading in and out of consciousness"
"Why could I have not seen you then?" My tone was reserved, almost irritated.
"Oh, Aeneas. I do love you, but you must put these irritations aside. I healed you because it was in your best interest. And do not dwell on that thought. I did not help you during your fight. I could have, but I didn't. There will be time for that later"
"Later?"
She kissed my brow once again and in turn, kissed my lids close. "Goodnight, my treasured"
Creusa was the first to see me the next day. Although I still felt weak, the wound had healed completely and only a purple scar remained where a sword had once cleaved me. She brought me fresh clothes and a pendant made of fiery choral. Placing it around my neck, Creusa placed a gentle hand upon my scar and sighed.
"For bravery and courage, my love" She said, helping me to my feet. Stringing the silver chain around my neck, she kissed me deeply as we embraced. The softness of her lips and her slender form in my arms pushed away all weakness I had previously felt. Pulling away from my lips, she laid her head upon my chest and sighed.
"Hector told me what had happened. I couldn't bare to be away from you any longer so I pleaded with father to let me come collect you" she said, whispering the words.
"And I am glad for it, Cree"
I twirled a lock of her golden hair and picked up the slight scent of wild flower. The pendant she had placed around my neck felt awkward and heavy. The cunningly crafted sea stone, shaped into a pillared temple, felt cold and leaden.
Taking my hand into hers, Creusa gently led me from my chambers into the wide expanse of the temple's interior. The golden hall, shining with offerings from patients healed by the medicine god, glowed dimly in the morning light. I was still dressed in only a plain kilt and Creusa, seeing my discomfort at being bare-chested, placed a light robe around my shoulders. Guiding me towards the altar of Asclepius, Creusa knelt next to me as we both supplicated our thanks for my healing. After the rituals were finished and I had promised to bring offerings, Creusa slipped her fingers into my hand and took me outside.
"Everyone is anxious for your return. They all seem to think you have a marvellous tale to tell" She said, leading me to the chariot. Her voice was even and I caught faint hints of bitterness. Was Cree upset?
"What's wrong Cree?" I asked as we sat down and the charioteer bade the horses to trot.
She looked at me evenly and then turned to look away. Placing a gentle hand under her chin, I tilted that beautiful face towards me and asked again.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, Aeneas" She replied coolly. "It's just that...somehow...I feared for you even as Hector told the story. I knew you were healing, yet every time Hector motioned you getting hurt, I wanted to jump off my chair and run towards you. I fear for you Aeneas, even when I do not know of your peril. Promise me you'll never blindly rush into combat without prior knowledge of your opponent..."
"I cannot do that, Cree. I fight for Troy, for you. How can I stay safe knowing our enemies might hurt you next?"
"I'm safe Aeneas. Our walls are unassailable and protected by Zeus himself. Troy will last forever..."
We arrived at the palace to a warm reception by Hecuba and her many children. Hector stood before all of them, ready to greet me as if I were a hero just returning from a victorious battle. He was all smiles and beside him, holding his powerful hand, lingered Cassandra. She too was smiling broadly. It was she who ran up to me first and leapt into my arms. Kissing me on the cheek, Priam's beautiful daughter whispered prophetic words into my ear.
"Seven hills, Aeneas. I see seven hills"
She slipped out of my grasp and scampered back towards Hector. I stood puzzled, yet put Cassandra's words aside. Striding forth, I clasped Hector's forearm in a hearty greeting and the two of us hugged.
"You're a fast healer, goddess-born. That wound should have taken weeks" Hector remarked, grinning.
"I had some help"
Shrugging my shoulders, I moved past him and met each member of the growing family in turn. Beside me, matching my every step like a silent ghost, Creusa walked. Often she would take my hand and pet it gently. It was heartening to know she was with me.
Hecuba's family met me as if I were returning from a decade old journey to some distant part of the world. The closeness and warmth each member radiated was both infectious and admirable. It also told me how I was a part of them and how close we really were. Each member's pain was felt and each member's triumph was celebrated. It would break the family if even one was lost. At the time, I could not imagine a single catastrophe which could break the bond we shared.
I was led into the heart of the palace, into Priam's throne room where the aging king sat. His beard, slowly growing grey, spoke of pride and peace. The way his shoulders arched indicated a honour only the king of kings could reserve. As I entered, his dark eyes followed me. Priam was a tall man, almost as tall as Hector, yet his slender form hid unmistakable strength and dignity. Ever since I was young, I was deathly afraid of the king and even then, at seventeen, I remember being in awe of his presence.
"My king" I bowed.
"Aeneas" His hollow voice resounded through the massive room. "We see your wounds aren't as grave as we previously thought"
I did not know how to reply to his comment. If anything, Priam was the only one in all of Troy who regarded me with cold detachment. The king never saw me as a son. A cousin, yes, but no more. I was an insignificant wheel in the carriage of Troy. I do not doubt that he loved me, yet at times, I did not know what he thought of me. We did not share a bond, a relationship. He was Priam, king of Troy and I was Aeneas, Anchises' son.
"Since Hector has already briefed us with the story, Aeneas, you may leave to rest" he added, eyes flickering towards the exit. I humbly bowed and left, followed by a good portion of Priam's family.
I broke off from the departing group and wandered deep into the palace alone. Nearing the ancient temple of Zeus, I found my father seated upon a marble bench, examining his lame leg. Seated under a cypress tree next to the steps that led up into the temple, my father seemed to be growing older before my eyes. In that moment I felt an overpowering love for the old man. A love I did not understand at the time.
"Father?"
Anchises looked up and gave me a bright smile.
"How does my Trojan hero feel?" he asked, rising to his feet. Limping over to where I stood, my father pulled me into his embrace and patted my back heartily. "I am so proud of you. It is not everyday a father sees his son return victorious from battle"
"It was no more than a skirmish, father. And besides, I did not want to go. It was Hector who forced me to tag along"
"Don't be ridiculous, son. There are only a few people in the world who actually live to fight. Men like you and I would avoid fighting if it were possible. Yet it does not dull our accomplishments either way. Whether you look for a fight, or fight to avoid one, it is what you accomplish in the end that matters. Hector tells me how you brought down that Hittite scum with dignity, and I was so proud. Not because you killed him, Aeneas. But because you offered him the chance to live. You were honourable and gracious, and you did not defile your opponent's corpse"
Though they encouraged me, my father's words could not stifle the disgust I felt at dispatching human life. Right or wrong, killing a man was murder; something I had just taken part in. Somehow, I felt unclean because of the act. I did not want to fight anymore. It wasn't something I enjoyed.
My father saw my discomfort and smiling knowingly.
"Come with me Aeneas" he called, moving into the temple.
I obeyed and followed the old man into the holy sanctuary. He led me past the rectangular pool towards the gigantic statue of Zeus himself. The ancient god, wreathed in gold and silver, sat proudly upon his divine throne, looking down kindly at the two of us. Built upon the highest peak within Priam's palace, this elevated temple could be seen from almost all corners of Troy. In retrospect, all of Troy could be seen from the temple's peak.
My father brought me before the god and looked at me.
"I know you hate to fight Aeneas, but what choice do you have when an adversary faces you?"
I looked away from my father. His piercing grey eyes always looked deep into my soul, and often put me to shame.
"I killed a man yesterday, father. I do not want to do it again"
"I see the trouble in your soul, my son. I see it rotting away at your core. But in this world of ours, its either you kill or are killed. When what you love comes under threat, will you not rise to defend it then?...Aeneas?"
I nodded, still looking away.
"Then clear your conscience. The man you killed was a murderer and savage. He came into the fight knowing death. Also, make clear your intentions. Never fight unless you have to. And never fight unless it is in defence of those you love"
"How will I know when that time is, father?" I asked, finally looking at him.
"You'll know, Aeneas. You'll know"