Chapter 23‘Draw your swords,’ said Aeneas. ‘Don’t sheathe them until I say so.’ He turned to his son. ‘Julos, keep your bow strung.’
Julos nocked an arrow, though his face was pale. They stood at the foot of the temple steps in the empty town square. Thunder rumbled overhead.
Sergestos fingered the pommel of his sword. ‘Turnus gave us three days.’
Aeneas ignored him. ‘Nisos, Euryalos?’
Nisos’s face set. ‘Ready, m’lord.’
‘Guard Julos with your life.’
All of them tensed as they heard approaching hoofbeats, but it was only a few grooms leading stallions toward them. Latinus must have sent the horses. Good. The old king had that much courtesy at least. Without another word they mounted up and made their way down the main street, past rows of stone buildings. As they neared the city gate,
