The stink of the Furies was still in his nostrils. He took a deep breath, and listened to the shriek of gulls and the sucking sound of the tide. At his feet lay a shell, white and pink, spiralling to a point. Whatever had lived in it had long gone. He picked it up and hurled it away.

When he could breathe freely, and the only thing he could smell was the sea, Silvius pulled himself upright. He would look now.

There, across the broad plains, was a hill. A river ran by it, reaching the sea near to them, its mouth wide enough for two ships to pass through.

This was it. This was the place Silvius’s family had been torn from, their once proud and royal city. But now there was nothing but a rubble of black, scorched stones.

Once, his father had told him, the towers of Troy rose into the sky. It was the richest city, grander by far than anything the sheep-stealing Achaeans could manage. The sight of it made Silvius clutch his head in sadness, and he could not help the tears that followed. Here, his cousin Hector had been slain by Achilles. King Priam himself had been murdered at the altar. How many thousands of Trojans had died? How many had been slain and left unburied, how many enslaved and taken captive?

His father was right. The Achaeans were monsters.

Tisamenos joined him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and he shuddered involuntarily, pushing it off. ‘Your city has burnt,’ said Tisamenos, ‘but you’re building again. I don’t know what’s happening to mine.’

‘This was your fault. Your family.’ Rage blinded Silvius.

Elissa got up too, dusted the sand off her tunic and squeezed his arm. ‘At least you have a city,’ she said. ‘I’m neither one thing nor the other.’

She was right. And Tisamenos was right, too. Mykenai might be in ruins by now as well, or captured by enemy forces. He had to put all that behind him.

‘Let’s go,’ said Elissa. ‘There’s a river over there. We can get some water.’

‘The Simois.’ Silvius knew the name. They set off towards its banks. ‘I know the warrior Achilles fought the river god before he slew Hector.’

‘Achilles? We call him Achilleos. He was killed by a Trojan,’ answered Tisamenos.

‘So an Achaean killed a Trojan and was killed in turn by a Trojan.’ The spiral again. He wondered if he could ever get out of it.

Once they’d drunk from the clear waters, and filled their water skins, they turned towards the ruins.

The whole plain was deserted, covered in scrub and weeds. They could walk straight up the hill and find the Temple of Apollo, and there the Bow which could shoot Apollo’s Arrow and slay Python.

Tisamenos clicked his knuckles together, making Elissa laugh, but Silvius frowned and pressed on.