Page 24 of Eryx
The plan was simple. Five of us distracted the older boys while the other two snuck forward to steal the cheese. Theon and Quill were the smallest and quickest, so their role was to wait until the whip bearers were too busy striking the rest of us to see them dash toward the altar.
Melias and Haden ran toward two of the boys, pivoting on their heels to dodge the leather whistling through the air. Axios, Ian, and I did the same to the other two boys. The five of us earned many lashes, but our distraction helped Theon and Quill sneak forward to snatch the cubes from the slab.
Each time a whip struck our skin, the crowd cheered. Their excitement as they shouted and clapped encouraged me. Axios didn’t share my views. He snarled at them and glared daggers when one of them shouted for more blood. Their request was answered many times over. Our blood painted the dirt and smeared on the altar.
At the end of the festival, we were bloody, exhausted, and stinging from the countless cuts in our flesh… but standing.
Gaius walked to the middle of the arena, flashing a cold smile at the crimson stains upon the earth.
“Now you see,” he said to the onlookers, motioning to us standing several feet away. “You see the strength of Sparta. The determination.” He then spoke of Spartan dominance and how we couldn’t be defeated. We were the greatest power in Greece, if not the whole world.
As much as I enjoyed hearing Gaius speak of Spartan victory, his words became muffled as I felt Axios tense at my side. One look at my friend and I knew why. He gritted his teeth and pain filled his eyes. Seeing the mess of his back caused a tightening in my gut. He was covered in blood. His lacerated back bled freely, dripping down his backside and falling to the ground. The whip had caught him on his arms several times and on his legs.
I bled, too, but I paid little attention to it. I worried only for him.
The other boys bled just as much, with the exception of Quill and Theon who had been swift enough to dodge most of the strikes.
Haden appeared the worst. Bleeding from head to toe, he smiled menacingly at the crowd. Crimson stained his light-brown hair from where he’d been struck in the head during the game, and blood had streamed down his forehead and dried beside his left eye. I was certain it’d scar, for the wound was deep.
Other boys in our herd would face the whips next. The day had started with us but would continue with two other groups, each one being bled at the altar. The whip bearers would be swapped too.
Linus led us out of the arena and toward the city. Gaius announced the next group of youths from behind us, and the crowd roared their approval. The cheers grew faint as we kept walking. The river beside the sanctuary glimmered under the sun’s rays, and I yearned to fling myself into it to clean off the dirt and blood.
A woman met us on the footpath. Judging by her short dark hair, she was a newlywed. It was tradition for a woman’s hair to be shaved on her wedding night. The reason had once confused me, but after spending many years in the barracks with the other boys, I understood it better now.
Spartan men were used to sleeping beside other men.
“Follow me,” she said, turning on the path. “You need to wash before the feast.”
“A feast?” Theon whispered.
“A celebration feast,” I said, keeping my eyes forward. “A way to honor us for our sacrifice this day. Food, drink, dancing, and song.”
“I’m much too tired to dance,” Quill mumbled, rubbing at his stomach where a slice of red marked his skin.
“The girls will be dancing,” Haden chimed in. “We get to watch.”
Axios was quiet as we washed our bodies and prepared for the feast. He didn’t smile at Theon’s silly quips, nor did he react to me asking him questions. The festival had taken something from him, a piece of the innocent boy he’d once been.
“You’re stronger than you realize,” I whispered as we headed for the feast hall that evening.
A dark strand of his hair caught the breeze and curled at his temple. My fingers ached to touch it.
“Strong?” he said, moving his eyes to me. “How do you know?”
“Because I know you,” I spoke, recalling that day near the stream when I’d spoken the same words to him. “I’m proud of you for today.”
Axios scoffed and faced ahead. “Proud of me for what, Ery? For bleeding like a Spartan?” He spoke the last words mockingly.
“No.” I touched his arm. “For doing what needed to be done and standing tall while you did it. You didn’t let them break you.”
We entered a building and were met by hollers and laughs. The celebration had already started, it appeared. Girls around our age huddled together, speaking quietly to each other. They weren’t sent to theagogelike the boys, but they still attended schooling. Along with learning basic combat, girls were educated in the art of dance and song. They’d be the entertainment for the evening.
Once we had taken our seats at the table, the girls spread out in the middle of the floor and began to move. Many of the older boys watched them with a certain hunger in their eyes I didn’t quite understand.
We were given meat and bread, along with water, and the boys picked at their food as they watched the girls. The dancers moved with such grace and cohesion that it reminded me of the hoplite formation, each movement precise and synchronized.
“You stare at them closely,” Axios whispered, moving his head closer to mine.
