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Menelaus assembles the group of noblemen together, and you set off together up the rocky hillside. After weeks at sea, you’re eager for a chance to stretch your legs, and Odysseus entertains you all with a comedic retelling of his ship’s derring-do during the naval battle, or lack thereof. You note that Odysseus does not spare himself in his mocking review, foolishly pantomiming his own failed attempt to launch grappling hooks against Kyrtios’ vessel. You can’t help but like the man, despite his dangerous nature and your goals at crosspurposes.
As you rise in elevation, the vegetation grows lusher, the air more humid. It strikes you as peculiar, since you have heard that most of the islands of the Cyclades are said to be quite arid. Darkness rises as you ascend - but the stars shine brightly above, and bright-tressed Selene lights the path well enough, as you approach the tent complex.
There are three very large white tents, and many smaller ones – white-robed priests of Apollo and gray-robed servants slip between the tents nearly silently. You trek to the second largest of these along with your group, where a stately man in white robes wordlessly allows your entrance. Ducking into the tent, you’re amazed to see that a feast has been laid out on long tables, attendants standing at the ready with mixing bowls of wine. Rows of torches are lit within the tent, and everywhere, there are extravagant woven tapestries, depicting Apollo in various scenes. The staff give the impression of waiting for your arrival – standing at attention silently, showing no surprise at your entrance.
At the head of the feast table, you see King Anios – there’s no mistaking him. Many men are said to be “godlike” in Hellas, but here the adjective is deserved. He is nearly as tall as you or Ajax, graceful and slender in tailored robes of a rich purple coloration, heavily embroidered with threads of gold – rising smoothly, he holds his arms out wide in welcome, looking for all the world like a god of Olympus. He possesses a refined face, handsome – his beard and hair neatly coiffed- and he has the look of a confident man of about forty summers. Based on Pollux’s conversation with you, he is likely to be much older than this.
Beyond his physical appearance, there is the <span class="mu-i">pressure</span> of his presence – it immediately reminds you of your encounter with Thetis on the mountaintop of Skyros; a lesser version of the crushing aura that Thetis projected.
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