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I really want to get through this module ASAP, I'm nervous about our timetable here. I wasn't planning for this!!
You set off to the south, and unlike before – every hoofbeat seems to add to your momentum, every prod of your goad prompts an instantaneous reaction from your team of Antenoridae steeds. Once again, you feel like a bowl set adrift upon the river current, bobbing this way and that – without control, you go where the water wills you. Whatever divinity that stood in your path previously must have been countermanded by a higher one. The horses, now brimming with the energy held back from them earlier in the morning, fly down dusty paths, barely touching the earth. In two hours, you cover more distance than in the six hours previous – you have the sense of racing downhill as you head south, although you know this to be an illusion.
When Pollux returns atop Arion, he is alone – he carries only blood-stained Salaminian ash, and a bundle of damp scarlet fabric that you recognize as Dius’ garb. His fingernails carry the traces and residues of dried river mud – hastily cleaned. Your mind fills in the details – Pollux ran down Dius, killed him, stripped his clothes and Phyrigian hat, and then dug a shallow grave by the riverside to hide the body within. He then washed the scarlet robes of blood, before riding to meet with you. You grimace, but there is nothing to be done about it now.
Pollux tosses the scarlet bundle to Teukros – who quickly adorns the clothing of the dead man. The familial relationship serves him well – you suspect that Paris or his men would have to be quite close to Teukros before he spots the imposter. Pollux, now grim with determination, says little – he joins you on your chariot, but he still burns with fading anger. You say nothing to him as you ride, fearful of additional castigation.
Pollux is impatient now – there are only a few hours before twilight begins. With the recent burst of speed, it is possible to arrive back in the Royal Palace a few hours after midnight, if all goes well. He pushes for ever-greater speed, and this time, the horses do not flag. You catch Pollux praying at one point – his eyes closed and face upturned towards the blue sky – no doubt he is thanking his father for assistance. Ida grows all the while as you ride – you draw near to the storied peaks of Gargarus, daubed white with frost even in mid-summer - that peak which scrapes the heavens of the Troad.
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