Page 29 of Eryx
Quill and Theon sat beside Axios, while Haden and Nikias sat across from us. Haden’s gray eyes met mine, and I suspected his thoughts echoed what Axios had said earlier about already knowing who our brothers were.
Helots placed platters of cheese and bread in front of us. Quill reached for the platter in earnest, but Axios shook his head as a warning. We hadn’t been given permission to eat yet. Every boy at the table had been whipped enough to remember the sting of the leather slicing into our backs.
“You must be starved,” the same man spoke. “Take one.” He eyed us as he grabbed a piece for himself and bit into it.
Axios took a wedge of bread and slowly ate it. The main course hadn’t been brought out yet, but we mustn’t eat in haste. I took a piece and bit off the end, barely tasting it. I’d trained myself to treat food as a necessity to survive rather than a thing to be savored.
“Have we news of Antalcidas?” a younger man asked.
Nikias had spoken of Antalcidas before. He was both a diplomat and a soldier of Sparta.
“He was sent to speak with Tiribazus of Lydia to sue for peace,” the leader of the table answered.
It made sense for them to speak of politics and war. Sparta was at war with the Corinthians. After our naval victory that had ended the Peloponnesian war, Persia had sent a man called Timocrates to bribe the Greek city-states to oppose Sparta. Thebes had risen up against us and encouraged others to follow.
Yet, I didn’t quite understand what the men spoke of.
“Who is Tiribazus?” I asked.
Axios stilled at my side. Haden gawked at me. Our role that evening was to join the Spartiates during their meal, but we hadn’t been given permission to join their discussions. My need for clarification outweighed the need to stay silent.
Sparta was my home, too, and I had a right to know about the ongoing conflict.
The man who’d greeted us, the one I knew to be the leader, eyed me with a cold stare. “I know your face. Golden hair and eyes the color of grassy fields… tell me, boy, what of your father?”
My father. The coward. I knew where this discussion would lead, but instead of backing down, I met his challenge head on.
“He was called Damos,” I answered, returning his stare.
The older men around the table reacted to the name. Their once disinterested stares turned deadly as they glared at me. They must’ve known Father and knew how he’d fled battle, leaving his brothers to die in his place. Maybe he’d even abandoned some ofthem. The scars they wore could’ve been from that battle.
“Yes, I knew Damos,” the man growled, his eyes burning with anger. “I’m the one who gave him the sharpened blade that ended his pathetic existence as a man.”
Once he’d spoken the words, his lips lifted in a taunting smile. He wanted me to lose composure and lash out at him, probably so he could then slam me against the table and make a show of my insolence. A lesson, as Axios had said earlier.
I refused to give him what he wanted.
“And who, might I ask, are you?” I casually said. “A man should announce himself when addressing new faces, and yet, you’ve not given us your name.”
A light pressure touched my leg. Axios was warning me to hold my tongue. But I could not obey. This man thought to intimidate me with his deep voice and muscles, yet he showed disrespect and arrogance by thinking himself above every other man at the table.
“Belos,” the man answered, cutting his eyes at me. He seemed more fascinated than angry, though. “You do not cower in the presence of your superiors, boy. I wonder why that is.”
“Why would I cower? You are but a man of flesh and bone, and when cut, you bleed the same as any other.” All eyes shifted to me, many showing shock while others reflected a dark curiosity.
Did they wish to see me beaten for my sharp tongue?
Axios squeezed my thigh, and I felt his worry without even looking at him. I placed my hand on top of his as a way to reassure him. He needn’t worry over me so fiercely. I was no fool.
Belos leaned forward. “Do you intend to stab me, boy? Watch me bleed?”
I smirked, amused by the thought of doing exactly that. He was the man who’d convinced my father to take his own life. “Only if I must.”
Nikias clenched his jaw and gave me a stern look. I ignored his glower and focused on Belos again. Our eye contact held for several heartbeats, and the tension in the room thickened.
And then he laughed.
Belos grabbed a cube of cheese off the platter and popped it into his mouth before pointing at me. “I am fond of your spirit. Your will and intellect are strong. One day you will not only be a skilled warrior, but you shall lead them. Mark my words.”
