Chapter 3Her breaths echoed within the confines of the helm. The helmet slit narrowed her vision of the battlefield. The armour was tight and her woollens were already drenched in sweat. Yet Lavinia could not be more joyous, standing in Turnus’s armour.
Some inner voice called her to battle, to the destiny of her bloodline. The strap of her grandfather’s invincible shield was looped around one hand. In the other, she carried the spear of Athena herself. The sun had barely risen, but the spearpoint flashed with the power of death. The armour weighed less than linen, her weapons light as children’s toys. The clamour of war resounded in her ears and the savage strength of Ares surged through her. She stood with an army at her back, the Trojan gates before her.
The sound of jeers came from t
