Page 8 of Axios
My anger did nothing to him. He had always been the calm one of us, and I had been the impulsive one who questioned everything. Ever since I killed Darius, something inside of me had shifted. I’d once been a timid boy who feared everything, but I was breaking away from that flaw.
“One day when we are soldiers, we will face these conditions again. It is to prepare us.”
“What if I do not wish to be a soldier?” The question came out unexpectedly.
Several times I had asked myself the same question, but I had never uttered it aloud, knowing it to be ridiculous. I wanted to become a warrior. On occasion, I had questioned myself, though, not believing I was suited to the lifestyle.
Eryx stopped walking and stared at me with a furrowed brow. “Ax, we have no choice. We may not choose another occupation if we ever wish to become equals in Sparta. Do not let the men ever hear you say such a thing. This is our life. Being a warrior is the greatest of honors. Fighting for our lands, our home… for each other.”
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed me, making me face him.
“Release me, Eryx.”
“No.” His eyes searched my face. “What is really the matter? This is not you.”
I fought for the right words to convey what I felt on the inside. The humiliation of not being as physically fit as him and some of the other boys, my lack of most skills, how the thought of taking another life someday made me queasy, and how the one life Ihadtaken still troubled me—none one of those were traits of a real soldier… of a real Spartan.
“I am nothing. I was not cut from the same gifted cloth as you, Ery. All of this is much more difficult for me.” Frustrated, I kicked at the tall grass and then motioned to myself. “Look at me.”
“Iamlooking at you, Ax.” Eryx came forward and took hold of my chin, forcing me to look him in the face. “Know what I see?”
I shook my head, ashamed at my show of vulnerability.
He pressed his forehead to mine, still loosely holding my chin. “I see someone who is kind and who stops to see the beauty of the world. Someone who likes to watch the birds fly in the sky, wondering where they go… wondering what it’s like to soar amongst the clouds. I see an intelligent mind who ponders what makes the sky blue and where the sun goes at night. But mostly… I see my truest companion.”
Leaning back a little, I stared into his eyes. “None of that makes me a warrior.”
“A true warrior fights for what’s in his heart.” His fingers trailed along my jaw before he stepped backward. “Youmay not see it now, but when the time comes for us to go to battle, you will be brave for your heart is bigger than any I know.”
***
Four days had passed since I’d eaten more than a few figs I had plucked from a tree and the bare minimum they provided us during meals. In order to develop skills of self-reliance, the training had become more intense. The only way we could eat was to steal like Felix had said. However, a harsh whipping awaited any boy who revealed his lack of such a cunning skill by getting caught.
I had not yet mastered the art of thieving and had been beaten four days straight in my attempts.
We still had days where we were instructed on reading, writing, and poetry, but the days devoted to athletics, warfare, and survival were increasing and becoming more vicious as time passed. Scholastics were of little importance to Spartan men. Only the military mattered.
The little spare time we had between lessons and drills, Eryx and I spent together. He had even offered to steal for me, but I had refused.
I needed to prove to myself that I was worthy of my father’s name, Leontius. He had been upheld as a hero.
Return with your shield… or on it.That was the Spartan saying. As of that moment, I was a disgrace to his name.
Earlier that day, I had seen a piece of bread on the feast table of the older men. They were preoccupied with other affairs, and the bread was at the edge of the table—so close to my grasp. After looking around, I had snuck forward and reached to grab it.
Right before I’d made contact, a large hand had clasped tightly around my wrist, jerking me up and throwing me down on the hard floor.
“See this thief!” he had exclaimed before giving a robust laugh to the surrounding men.
I had gotten ten lashes directly afterward.
Laying on my rough makeshift bed, the pain of the lashes on my back was severe. Every small movement felt like my skin was being torn apart. My eyes watered, but I tried my best to hold back the tears.
Spartans did not cry, no matter how much pain they suffered.
Taking deep breaths, I lay on the reeds and wasn’t sure what hurt worse—the lashes upon my flesh or the roaring hunger in my belly. I swallowed air in an attempt to get something in my stomach, but it was ineffective. My hunger had made me even weaker than usual, and I didn’t know how much longer I could tolerate it.
“Axios, why do you refuse my help?” Eryx whispered.
