" Hector." Aeneas returned the smile before looking at Priam. "Your Majesty. All mercenaries who have answered our calls of support have arrived. They are waiting for us in the courtyard."
Priam's weathered features softened slightly as he gave a small nod. "Good," he said in a measured tone. "Hector, welcome them appropriately." The weight of the impending war bore down on the king's shoulders, and though he maintained a composed facade, he knew all too well the dire reality they faced. The storm of war brewing on the horizon was not an ordinary conflict; this was a battle in which the greatest heroes of Greece would fight—Achilles, Heracles, and others of legendary prowess. These were men with divine blood and unmatched skill in battle. Troy was at a severe disadvantage, and Priam understood the gravity of it.
