‘Be well, my lord.’ Aeneas made another obeisance. ‘You honour us, and Lavinium, with your presence. If there is anything …’

Stargazer snorted, and trembled, stamping his front left hoof on the wooden floor.

‘His wound,’ said Elissa, sensing his pain. ‘Lavinia – please could you help him?’

Lavinia approached the centaur gently, and reached out a hand to his flank. He skittered away.

‘Elissa. You help me.’ Lavinia’s face, hardened by the long trials of war, softened into a look of deep concentration.

The centaur tensed, then relaxed as Elissa began to stroke his chestnut withers, where the man part of his torso became horse. Lavinia meanwhile inspected the arrow, and called for vinegar and boiling water. ‘Lord,’ she said, addressing him directly, head proudly raised. ‘If it is permitted …’

The centaur inclined his head, and Elissa whispered gently to him, the kinds of things she whispered to the horses to keep them quiet during a storm. She told him about the swallows that were nesting under the eaves of the hut, and then about the dream she’d had of him, and his eyes locked onto hers.

Lavinia gave him a draught full of crushed poppy seeds to drink; he gulped it down, and once he’d done so, she quickly took a knife from the boiling water and searched the wound. ‘It’s not lodged in bone.’ Then, with a sudden, hard movement, she pulled it out. Stargazer did not wince.

Once the wound had been cleaned with the vinegar and bandaged, the centaur thanked Lavinia. She said, ‘My father Latinus knew you, in the old times.’

‘Thank you, daughter of Latinus,’ said the centaur. ‘I have not forgotten the old king, and the honour we centaurs owed him.’

When Lavinia had returned to her position, Aeneas, sounding weary, began again.

‘We, Aeneas, son of Anchises, greet you, Lord …’

‘I do not need your formalities,’ interrupted Stargazer. ‘There is danger. Something stirs in the mountains.’ He wiped his mouth with the back of his powerful hand, and Elissa again noticed the casket hanging against his chest. She wanted to touch it, but guessed that Stargazer might brush her away if she tried.

‘Something old, and dark.’ His words pressed deep into Elissa. She dreaded to think what might frighten this noble creature.

‘Why come here?’ said Iulus, loudly. ‘We know nothing of your mountains, as long as they give us boars.’ His small group of friends guffawed.

‘Quiet,’ barked Aeneas; then, turning to Stargazer, ‘I apologise for my son Iulus. He is still young, and has a lot to learn.’ Iulus smirked, and popped a nut into his mouth, crunching it loudly.

Stargazer flared his nostrils and continued, dismissing Iulus with a flick of his long black tail. ‘Something stirs, and it does things we have not seen before. The arrow – none of your kind would have dared shoot us without provocation.’

‘Who did hurt you?’ said Aeneas.