Page 57 of Beyond the Storm
The men then gathered around him and blocked him from my view.
Who were they? Hoplites from Triphylia? We had allied with several states prior to the battle, consisting of thousands of foot soldiers and cavalry. They could’ve belonged to any of them.
When the order was given for us to return to formation, I retrieved my helmet and placed it back on before sheathing my sword and grabbing my spear from the dirt. What became of the wounded warrior? I couldn’t say. The men had taken him away, and the throng of warriors moving across the battlefield prevented me from finding them again.
“There you are,” Nikandros said, clapping me on the back. “I feared you among the dead.”
“Unfortunately for you, I still live.”
He smiled from behind his helmet.
Nikandros had joined the agoge at the same time as me. We had trained together in a herd of youths and learned how to survive by stealing food when necessary and toughened ourselves to the world. Upon our eighteenth year, we had then joined the same syssition—a dining mess with other males who we formed close bonds with.
The men in a syssition became brothers. Eating, sleeping, and fighting together. Yet, despite that, the only one I’d ever become close to was Nikandros.
“Return with us!” Melas exclaimed above the noise. He had been one of the men who’d trained us when we were youths, though he’d had his own separate herd of boys. The man who’d trained me had died in battle months before.
“We must be on our way.”
The pale-haired male? I saw the unique shade through the sea of warriors and stepped closer, almost desperate to close the distance. Because it meanthewas there.
“You are allies of Sparta,” Melas responded. “You will return with us and rest from battle. You can leave at first light.”
The male with apple-red hair stood beside who I assumed to be their leader. I also saw one with golden hair who was so beautiful it caused every warrior in his proximity to shift closer. Yet, I didn’t find the one I searched for.
Our army then returned to our base at Sicyon, a northern city between Corinth and Achaea.
Nikandros made conversation along the journey, but I was unable to concentrate on his words. My thoughts were on the warrior. He had tried telling me his name, but his gasping breaths and weakened state had kept him from doing so. It felt as though my soul couldn’t rest until I knew it.
We washed ourselves of the grime from battle before being told of a celebration being held in honor of our victory.
“Perhaps I will find someone to bed,” Nikandros said as we walked in that direction. “It’s been ages since I’ve wet my prick.” He nudged my ribs with his elbow. “And you, my friend, need to wet yours for the first time.”
Every male in our syssition had taken lovers. Some had bedded each other. Others had found women. We weren’t permitted wives or to move from the barracks until the age of thirty, but indulging in pleasure wasn’t forbidden as long as we followed our orders and returned to our beds by morning. Yet, I’d never taken a lover. It didn’t appeal to me.
“What I need is food,” I told him. Wine too, if it was offered. Though, I never drank to excess. No Spartan did lest they wished to have their senses dulled. The enemies who dwelled within our borders wouldn’t hesitate to slit our throats if given the opportunity.
“Twenty-one years on this earth and my closest companion still has his maidenhood.” Nikandros sighed. “How tragic.”
I shoved him hard. He laughed as he nearly fell off the path.
Reaching the celebration, the scent of meat cooking over the fire made my mouth water. Voices came from several directions as men gathered in groups and discussed the battle. Others told stories. Women had been invited, and some danced, moving their bodies in ways that enticed the men watching them.
“By the gods,” Nikandros said under his breath. “How is it he outshines every woman here? Like Adonis in all his remarkable beauty.”
I followed his gaze, and my heart quickened in its beating as I saw the warrior with golden hair. Yet, my eagerness didn’t come from him. It came from the hope that the other male would be there as well.
The golden-haired Adonis then glanced our way, a smirk in place. He said something to the soldiers in front of him before approaching us.
“Greetings,” he said to Nikandros. “My name is Bellamy.”
My companion could only stare at him. I quietly coughed and smacked the back of his arm.
“Oh! Yes. Greetings.” Nikandros bowed his head, then bowed it again. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “I am called Nikandros.”
Bellamy’s eyes shifted to me. They appeared hazel at first, but upon another look, they were a dark brown. Odd. “And you are?”
“Elasus,” I answered. “The warrior with black hair… what became of him?”
