Chapter 21You will bring us many souls, Aeneas. You and the new Akhilles. But you will become more, much more.
The memory of Lady Death’s words pierced the furore. The shrieks rose all around: the thunder of horses, the clash of arms against arms, knights and foot soldiers with their rallying cries, the brass ring of trumpets.
Aeneas’s phalanx was already crashing into formation, surging out of the river like devils. Worthy devotees, they locked their shields and advanced, spears lowered, ready to trample the primitives of Italia.
Soon those who stood against the Trojans would join the ghosts in the world beneath, new servants for the house of Hades and Persephone. Aeneas’s victory was ripe on the vine, ready for plucking. Only one thing prevented him.
Julos stood before Aeneas’s force
