Chapter 27‘Rouse yourself, Son of the Goddess,’ said old Father Tiber. ‘We have come to the shores of Cumae as you wished. I can carry you no further.’
Aeneas blinked and sat up. He had been lying in the bottom of the boat, wrapped in his cloak and staring up at the heavens. Above his head the clouds had roiled and thickened, though once he thought he saw a gap wide enough for the evening star to peek through. The cold night air was heavy with the promise of a storm and once in a while he heard the distant growl of thunder. He had not been properly asleep. True rest seldom came to him. Every time he closed his eyes, flashes of the future would invade his mind. He chided himself as he disembarked—he was here to seek the mouth of Hades and he was scared of nightmares like a child.
Father T
