Odysseus stood alone.
Two days.
He looked at the walls. At the parapet where the defenders stood. At the gaps that had cost him three hundred men. At the archers behind the line. At the oil cauldrons. At everything Lysander had built.
Two days. Then twelve platforms. Six hundred men per platform. Shield walls walking into the kill zones.
He did not smile. He did not frown. He calculated.
Then he turned and walked to his tent. The lamp was still burning. The wooden shape on the table was finished. He did not look at it.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
Two days...............................................................................
The third duel lasted four minutes.
Greek champion: Lykos of Crete. Tall, fast, lethal. Troy sent Charon — a garrison fighter, thirty years old, steady but not spectacular.
Charon died on the second thrust. The spear went through his chest. He looked down at it. Then he fell.
Silence. Both armies. No cheers. No roars.
