Chapter 11Sikilia lay ahead.
Aeneas rested his hand against the side of the ship and squinted at the rocky mass on the horizon. A dark haze lay over the island.
‘Smoke,’ said Eumela, drawing up alongside.
‘Aye,’ said Aeneas. ‘And that’s no forest fire. But this part of the island wasn’t inhabited last time.’
Eumela shifted her weight. ‘Do you think they’re friendly?’
‘Only one way to be sure. Get the skiff ready. None of the fleet is beached until we know it’s safe. Where’s—’
‘Palinuros!’ Beroe ran up to them, paler and more haggard than Aeneas had ever seen her. She looked from face to face. ‘Has anyone seen Palinuros?’
Eumela raised her eyebrows. ‘Is all well, Beroe?’
‘He wasn’t at his post this morning.’ Beroe wrung her hands.
‘That doesn’t mean—’ started Aeneas.
‘He’s not on
