Page 107 of Eryx
“I am not certain,” I said, averting my eyes from his to stare at my hands. I had scrubbed the blood off them, but they would forever be stained. I recalled the night I had killed the helot boy and how I’d vomited as I’d scrubbed my hands raw.
The color red would forever be a part of me now.
“War is never easy, nor do I believe it ever will be,” I continued. “However, our attitude toward it may alter as time passes. Just like when killing the helots.” I met his gaze again. “It is nevereasyto take a life, Axios, but we can learn to desensitize ourselves to the act.”
He frowned, and I longed to kiss the crease that marred his brow. We had not surrendered to lust in many days, and my body craved him. The relief at being alive only increased that desire. But then I saw him sway a bit.
“Lie down,” I said. “You need to rest.”
Not only had he lost a lot of blood, but battle had taken much from him. Physically and mentally. Before he could protest, I gently pushed him backward on the bed. He grumbled and narrowed his eyes at me. Exhaustion then slammed into me too. I had been so worried about his injury that I had forgotten about everything else.
The day had finally caught up to me.
I lay down behind him and pulled him into my arms. Other soldiers entered the quarters not long after, but none of them spoke. Theon curled into a ball on his bed and faced the wall while Quill sat up and stared out the window. Haden flopped on his back and closed his eyes, but his brow was furrowed.
The room was quiet. Even so, I still heard the sounds of men screaming as they lay dying on the battlefield. I could still hear swords clashing against swords. The stench of death was seared into me, and I pressed my face against Axios’ nape to try and rid myself of it.
When sleep finally came, I dreamed of a river of blood. Faceless men floated down the stream, their eyes nothing more than empty sockets.
A scream woke me in the middle of the night, and I jolted up to see Theon thrashing in his bed. Quill jumped up and ran over to him, pulling his companion into his arms. Theon quieted and stilled against Quill’s chest before drifting to asleep once more.
None of us would ever be the same.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“General Teleutias has decided to send some men back to Sparta,” our unit commander said days later. “The more experienced soldiers will remain here in Potidaea, but the younger men will return home.”
The news left a bitter taste in my mouth. I detested the thought of leaving men here to fight in my place.
“The conflict with Olynthus remains strong,” I spoke, drawing the eyes of every man in the room. Speaking out of turn was uncommon for me, yet I refused to stand by and do nothing. “Sparta needs every available man to—”
“What Sparta needs is your obedience,” he interjected, charging toward me. “Or have you forgotten your place?”
“No, sir.”
“Until you earn the rank of officer, you hold your tongue and follow orders,” he growled, grabbing my jaw before shoving my head back. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pack your provisions and prepare to depart at dawn. Now leave my sight. All of you.”
Disobeying a direct order was unheard of. Yet, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth as we left the room and walked to our sleeping quarters. I was no officer. I knew this. However, I also knew our army had been greatly weakened from the battle, and it was unwise to send men away when another conflict was on the horizon.
Teleutias failed to see reason. It was a mistake I knew he’d come to regret.
The next morning, we rose early and left the city with a hundred men. The journey would be long and tedious, but spirits seemed to be higher than they’d been when we first set out over a month ago. Perhaps because we were going home.
What awaited at the end of the long journey was not blood and death, but rather the familiar fields we’d trained in as boys and the security of our own beds.
The cool autumn air woke my senses and kept me alert as we traveled. The days weren’t nearly as hot and made the journey more tolerable as we moved through the terrain in full armor carrying supplies. For the first several days, my companions said very little. I suspected their minds were still on the battlefield.
The mood shifted one afternoon, however, when Quill stepped into a hole in the road and fell flat on his face in the dirt. It caused me and Axios—who walked in the line behind him—to come to a quick halt. The men behind us slammed into our backs, making us fall as well. As Spartans piled on top of each other on the road, grumbles transitioned to laughs.
The commander yelled for us to shut our mouths and keep walking, but when we continued our march, it was with small smiles and mischievous glances at each other. We then passed the time with light conversation, and at night once we’d made camp, we warmed ourselves by the fire and rested our sore muscles.
The soles of my feet were blistered and caused me discomfort as the days turned to weeks.
I had endured worse and paid it little mind.
