Page 32 of Eryx
I’d never taken a life before, and for the briefest of moments my hand shook. The slave opened his mouth as if to beg. Without another moment of hesitation, I swung the blade and slashed it across his throat. Blood sprayed from the wound, drenching the slave’s clothes and splashing on me as well. His eyes went wide as he crashed to the hard floor, his body twitching as his life spilled out of him.
When he stopped convulsing, I forced myself to look into his lifeless eyes. Forced myself to see him as nothing more than a beast. It was the only way to find solace in the deed. Otherwise, I knew he’d haunt me.
Maybe he still would.
I wiped the bloody blade on the bottom of my tunic before returning it to Paris. The soldier nodded to me, seemingly impressed. My gaze landed on Axios when I turned around. His eyes watered but he didn’t let the tears fall. I’d done this to spare him the pain of doing it himself.
I just hadn’t expected to feel so numb afterward.
I felt neither sadness nor anger. Not even pride.
As we walked back to the barracks, that nothingness continued to have hold of me. It grew in the pit of my stomach, growing taller and taller, taking away every piece of my soul until I didn’t even feel human anymore. Everyone kept their silence, including Nikias, though our teacher kept a close eye on me.
Before joining the boys in our sleeping quarters, I went to wash off the helot’s blood. I scrubbed my red-stained hands until they felt raw. A quiet whimper escaped my lips as I stared at all the blood on my tunic. I tore it off me and tossed it into the grass. The helot’s eyes flashed in my head. Wide and pleading. I remembered the warm spray of his blood as I sliced open his throat.
I bent forward and vomited, unable to hold it back anymore. More whimpers left me as I clawed at my chest and face, still feeling as though his blood was on me.
The emptiness from earlier was replaced by a sorrow so profound I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull myself out of the dark. And for the first time in nearly eight years, I cried. I knew not why I cried. Was it for the boy I’d killed? Was it because of Axios? Or did I cry because I felt a piece of my soul chipping away?
“Dry them eyes, boy. Rid yourself of this weakness.”
As Father’s words returned to me, I wiped at my eyes and stood back up. Calm came over me as I washed out my mouth and splashed water on my face.
When I joined the boys in the barracks, I quietly moved through the room and lay on my mat beside Axios. It was too quiet. Usually Quill and Theon stayed up late giggling and whispering to each other, but they made no sound. Haden faced the wall. And I faced away from Axios, not having the strength to look at him.
Axios shifted closer and wrapped an arm around me.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice cracking. “Leave me be, Axios.”
It hurt me to say the words to him. But I needed my space. I had told him countless times to let go of his compassion for the helots, and he’d ignored my warning. Now, a boy was dead. And I’d killed him.
“Ery… I—”
“Please,” I begged. A lump formed in my throat.
“As you wish.” His arm lifted from me.
I mourned the loss of Axios, but I had to end this between us. I had let him make me weak. I’d let his tender heart and compassion sink into me and nearly prevent me from performing my duty.
“Never forget who you are,”Father had said.“Remember your purpose in life. To live and die for Sparta, above all else.”
Axios had made me forget that lesson.
I wouldn’t forget again.
Chapter Six
Rain fell from the sky, hiding the sun behind dark clouds. I didn’t wish to see the sun anyway.
I had barely slept the night before. The decision to distance myself from Axios had torn me apart, as if my very soul was being ripped in two. For so long, I had relied on him more than he even realized. He’d given me a slice of happiness in a life not meant for such things.
Yes. In order to be the man—the warrior—I wished to be, I had to let him go. We’d both become stronger because of it.
Haden and a boy named Menexenos were training in the arena, practicing defensive and offensive drills. Both tactics were important in combat. One must know how to strike blows, but also defend against them.
Felix watched them, his dark eyes following their movements. He shouted when one of them slipped in their formation.
Axios and I stood at the side of the small arena. The other members in our herd were scattered around the training arena, some practicing in the next field over while others sat on the wet grass, catching their breaths after they’d pushed themselves hard.
