Page 45 of Axios
I bumped his arm and glared when he met my stare. “You enjoy my humiliation.”
“Indeed. I do.” His grin widened.
All smiles faded and sounds of laughter died off as we arrived at the field. Our practice arena was no place for joy or silly quips. If Gaius were to witness any such behavior, he’d see to it that we were properly punished. Even Theon and Quill knew to be silent and refrain from bursting out in giggles as they liked to do.
Gaius and Felix stood in the center, and younger boys were to one side of them.
Seeing how the youths stood—nerves wracking their bodies and fear ever present in their eyes—made me remember a time long ago when I’d been in their place, before the harshness of training toughened me both physically and mentally.
They looked no older than twelve or thirteen in age. Some appeared more confident and stood tall, while others looked ready to piss themselves.
I identified all too well with the latter. As shameful as it was to recall, I’d been such a timid and scared child. And then Eryx had saved me from myself.
“Observe these young men,” Felix said to the boys, motioning to us. “They have lived and breathed theagogefor many years, have undergone the most challenging of obstacles, and have proved themselves worthy. Soon, they will complete their training and join a syssition. Everything you are about to face, they have faced. Any fears you hold within yourselves, they once held, but have long since thrown away such weak emotions.”
As he spoke, the youths watched us with admiration. To them, we were what they yearned to become one day: skilled fighters who had taken every task given to him and excelled. The scars we carried upon our flesh were proof of our upbringing—that we’d suffered, yet survived against all odds.
“You,” Gaius snarled, pointing to Haden. “Step forward.”
Haden did as ordered. The more frightened of the boys stared at him with wide eyes, and some even stepped back a little.
“Tell me. What have you learned of being a soldier?”
Immediately, Haden answered, “To surrender is to be disgraced. Fear is for the weak, as is love. Pain is irrelevant, for a true Spartan rises above it.”
Gaius nodded, seeming pleased. “And what of obedience?”
“A Spartan must obey his leader. Without obedience, the system fails. Solidarity amongst us is of great importance. We must think as one to fight as one. That is why other soldiers tremble like babes when Spartans are near. No other army is more disciplined than ours.”
I wondered what point Gaius was trying to make by asking Haden those questions.
True, theephebesneeded to know Spartan values, but if I’d learned anything in my life it was that no lesson ever came without sacrifice. Whether it be a blood offering or more internalized, each lesson had tested me. To rise above pain, to kill without mercy, to put aside dreams of another life and place Sparta before all—these were all things I had to learn.
And so, the youths would have to as well.
A part of me pitied them. Weakness would be beaten from them, as would any sense of individuality. If they were fortunate, though, they’d find brothers within their groups as I had in mine.
Sentiment may be looked down upon, but I had an unbreakable bond with my companions, one that had been forged from necessity but kept together by choice.
“Bring forth the slave,” Gaius commanded before giving a chilling smirk.
Two other boys from my herd walked forward with a smaller boy between them. They held his arms as he struggled to break free.
The boy was short and had pale hair, looking no older than the youths that looked at him in anticipation. Young and innocent. Dirt and bruises covered his skin, as if he’d been thrown to the ground and beaten before being forced there.
Gaius faced Haden once more. “The slave you see before you has done no wrong. He was taken from the fields from which he worked and brought here.” He retrieved a spear from the dirt and handed it to Haden. “Kill him.”
Haden’s shoulders tensed at the command. He’d killed helots before—we all had—but the ones we’d slain had been guilty of crimes, such as trying to flee or attacking a citizen. Rarely had it ever been someone innocent and a boy no less.
Moving the spear in his hands, he approached the slave.
“Please, don’t,” the helot begged as tears streamed down his dirt-stained cheeks. “I work hard in the fields each morn for Sparta. My mother is ailing, and I have a younger sister whom I watch over. They need me. Have mer—”
Haden struck the slave in the throat in one fluid motion.
The tip of the spear protruded through the boy’s neck before being withdrawn. His body collapsed to the ground and silence filled the air. The youths stared on, their mouths agape, as blood pooled around him.
I looked at Haden.
