Chapter 1

Andronicus

1

          Three thousand years before the general would fulfill his destiny and wage the war between good and evil, he was a normal boy. He was born Andronicus, in the kingdom of Sparta in the year 496 bc. He was born as all babies were born in Sparta at that time, delivered by a sort of midwife. His mother, Athenia, lay in the same bed in which he had been conceived, sweating and panting, clutching the sheets tight in her hands. Aristocles, her husband, stood silently in the doorway, watching anxiously, his fingers tapping restlessly against the sword still strapped to his side. The midwife instructed Athenia as she did all the mothers, and Athenia obeyed. She seemed to feel less pain than she had been told to expect. The midwife told her to push, and she did. She gave one hard push, accompanied by a yelp of pain, and Andronicus came into the world. He only cried a bit at first, and then he fell silent, taking in the new world around him.

As Athenia held him in her arms, he looked up into her soft green eyes. She was amazed at how green his eyes were; they almost seemed to glow. A moment later, Athenia felt Aristocles at her side.

“He is a fine baby,” Aristocles proudly proclaimed, gazing down at his son, “He will make a fine warrior someday.”

Athenia winced at the reminder that her child would only be hers for a few short years before entering a lifetime of soldiering. Nevertheless, they laughed and talked of the future, though perhaps not so very far ahead.

Andronicus was washed and coddled and placed on the bed between them. His parents noted right away what a calm, quiet baby he was. He didn’t cry at all; he simply stared up at them with his bright green eyes. Athenia smiled down at her little boy with nothing but love, but Aristocles was unsettled by the way the boy just stared without making any noise. His little brothers had always cried when they were babies, although they had both died young.

                                                            2

          Later that night, Aristocles went out walking through the small sea town of Gytheion. He wandered the empty streets, receiving a nod of approval from every guard he passed. He didn’t need to wear his cloak; they all knew who he was.

He walked past the quiet houses and the empty market and up his favorite hill until he reached a cliff overlooking the sea. It was a quiet night, and he thought the moon looked bigger than it had in years. The stars appeared brighter too, covering the entire sky. There were no clouds, and the moon and the stars illuminated the land almost as if it were day.

In the distance Aristocles heard a wolf howl, quickly answered by its pack. He had always admired the wolves, the way they hunted, and the way they always had a leader. They reminded him of himself, and of Sparta.

As he walked along the cliff, Aristocles looked out over the vast , the starlight flickered and danced across the lightly roving water. He stood there thinking of his new son and dreaming of what glorious battles might lay in his future. Aristocles was a great warrior, having fought against the Athenians in many battles over the years. He dreamed of little Andronicus growing up to be a mighty warrior someday, perhaps even a captain, as he was.

 He stood there thinking large thoughts for his little boy when he felt something odd come over him, something he had never felt before. A kind of chill crept down his spine, and he suddenly had the distinct idea that something grand had begun that night. Something grander and greater than him or his wife, greater than any battle he might fight in, greater perhaps than Sparta itself.

This foreign thought frightened Aristocles. He was a great warrior, but he had never been much of a thinker. He had always followed orders and respected Spartan law above all. This new inkling of importance, of feeling a greater connection, disturbed Aristocles greatly. He believed in the gods as much as any man, and he feared their wrath, but he didn’t think about them very often.

Aristocles had never liked thinking about the gods. Ideas like that, the kind of ideas that are the scariest, most important ideas, did nothing but frighten and confuse him. As far as he was concerned, matters of the gods, of sacrifices and offerings, and all the other holy garbage was better left to the priests and philosophers. The matter of defending Sparta, of killing anyone who stood against her, was better left to Aristocles and his kind.

The feeling that had come over him as he stood on the cliff frightened him more than any fight he had ever been in. It was more than a feeling; it was a kind of knowing, a cold assurance that his little boy would grow up to do more than Aristocles could possibly fathom.

He allowed these odd thoughts to linger for a while before he headed back home, more unsettled than he was before he left. As he walked, his mind returned to thoughts of battles his son might fight in one day, and the feeling he had on the cliff drifted away. By the time he stepped through his front door an hour later, he had forgotten it entirely.

                                                  3

While Aristocles was out contemplating things he had seldom thought of before, Athenia sat with Andronicus in her arms. She too thought of a grand future for their child. She imagined Andronicus growing up to be a handsome and gallant young man. Taking a wife and having children of his own. Being a peaceful man, a man who could convince others not to go to war. She even imagined him growing up to be a king someday, even though she knew that was impossible.

 Just as Aristocles was feeling whatever it was he was feeling while staring at the sea, Athenia felt something too, though not quite the same. Andronicus had been sleeping for almost an hour, and she had just been sitting there. One second she was nodding off, dreaming of her boy’s future, and the next she was wide awake. She felt an odd feeling course through her body, and then the hairs on her neck slowly stood on end.

She looked down and almost screamed. Andronicus was looking up at her with wide eyes. He didn’t make a sound or stir at all. He just lay there staring at her. If she had thought his eyes had glowed before, now his eyes seemed to burn with a green fire. In that moment she knew. She would forget soon after, but in that moment she knew who Andronicus would become. As she stared at his piercing green eyes, she thought she could almost see a light deep in his pupils. It was as if she could see a hint of white in the center of the black, shining with a brightness she had never seen before. His eyes seemed to draw her in, and for a moment she forgot where she was and who she was. All she knew was the light in Andronicus’s little eyes. 

Then it was gone. She blinked and looked down and saw Andronicus sleeping again, his little chest rising and falling and his eyes gently closed. She thought she must have dozed off and dreamed the light, then she forgot what she had seen almost immediately.

She heard Aristocles enter not long after, so she put Andronicus down in his little bed. When Aristocles entered, he looked rather pale.

“Are you alright?” she asked, smiling at him from their bed.

“Of course,” he replied a little too abruptly. “I was just out thinking about the boy and what a fine warrior he will make.”

“Yes,” Athenia agreed softly. In her mind’s eye, she saw a flicker of bright light, and then it was gone in a flash. Aristocles slowly undressed and climbed into bed next to her.

“A fine warrior,” she repeated as she dozed off to sleep.

                                                  4

The first year of Andronicus’s life passed quickly. While Aristocles spent the year away battling the Athenians, Athenia cherished her time with little Andronicus. She loved him more than anything. She had been scared and intimidated when she had been made to marry her husband, but also excited. She was only seventeen at the time, and Aristocles was twenty-four and already a renowned warrior. But her parents were gone, and she was eager to start her own family. She had grown to love Aristocles in short time, but it was nothing like the love she felt for her little Andronicus.

Andronicus was a very easy baby. He almost never cried, and Athenia would spend hours singing to him and staring out at the sea. Before Andronicus, Athenia had to wait for Aristocles’s return alone, always fearing he would fall in battle, but now she had Andronicus to wait with her. It felt like she finally had something all to herself, even though she knew it wouldn’t last long.

A little more than a year after Andronicus was born, Aristocles returned home for a short while. Not long after his return, Athenia became pregnant again. They spent a few months together as a family before Aristocles had to leave again.

Athenia spent most of her second pregnancy alone with Andronicus. Those first two years would always be special to Athenia, her years alone with her little boy. Andronicus learned to walk and soon after to talk. He ran everywhere, never crying when he fell. Even after he learned to talk, he was a quiet boy, only speaking when he was asked something or if he wanted to know something.

                                                  5

The night Androcles was born could not have been more different than the night Andronicus was born. A terrible storm had been lashing the area for three days and showed no signs of stopping. Thunder crashed outside, and the wind whistled through the small sea town. Athenia was in much more pain this time. She screamed as the midwife coached her, just like before. Aristocles was still in Athens and would not return for a month, and her own parents had died when she was just a girl, so it was just her, the midwife, and Andronicus.

Andronicus sat in the corner, watching quietly as his mother screamed in pain. His young mind was confused by what he saw, but he sat there just as peaceful as ever. Athenia’s labor took many hours, and after Androcles was born she looked terrible. She gazed upon him for a while, noting he had the same bright green eyes as his brother, before falling asleep. That night she dreamed more than she ever had before. She bounced from one dream to the next for what seemed an eternity, seeing things she didn’t understand and didn’t want to.

Athenia woke the next morning, as she would many mornings after, to the loud crying of Androcles. She could only remember a fragment of her dreams from the night before, and they started to fade quickly as she took Androcles out of his little bed. He was loud and restless, the polar opposite of Andronicus, but Athenia already loved him just the same.

When Aristocles returned the following month, he remarked on what a fine baby they had made and announced his boys would both be great warriors someday. He never mentioned the dream he had the night Androcles was born. He hadn’t even known it was the same night until a week later, and by then he had mostly forgotten it, but he could still recall a strange light and a dark figure that gave him chills whenever he thought of it.

                                                  6

They spent the next four years as a family. Aristocles spent most of his time away in battle, but when he was home he was a good father. He taught his boys how to fish and hunt before they were five years old. He even made them little wooden swords to practice fighting with. Aristocles always tried to teach both his boys the importance of loyalty and honor, but these lessons only got through to Andronicus, as Androcles was very little.

          Aristocles died when Andronicus was six and Androcles only four. He died as he had always wanted, in battle. The Spartans thought of themselves as the greatest warriors in the world, and in Sparta there was no higher honor than to die a glorious death on the battlefield. Aristocles had spent most of his adult life fighting the Athenians and other Greek cities, but in the end he died fighting alongside the Athenians. A Persian army came to Greece, and men from every Greek city banded together to fight them.

          Andronicus stood in the streets of the big city with his mother and brother, waiting excitedly for his father to ride in on his horse, like he always did. Andronicus loved seeing his father ride through the big archway with all the people cheering and applauding. When the soldiers returned, there were fewer of them than normal. Andronicus looked around for his father, but he didn’t see him, and his little mind slowly started to understand.

A tall scary-looking man approached Athenia and told her something, but Andronicus was still looking for his father. When Athenia turned to him, tears running down her face, and told him his father had died, Andronicus burst into tears for the first time she could remember. For the next few weeks Andronicus cried even more than his little brother. Andronicus was old enough to remember his father, but Androcles’s only memory of their father was that of a fierce warrior.

                                                            7

          Two months after his father died, Andronicus was sent off to begin his training, in the city of Sparta. Sparta was a mighty nation, and its warriors were the finest Greece had to offer, perhaps the finest in the world, and they began their training young. Andronicus was one of eleven students under the teacher Archelaus. Archelaus had fought alongside Aristocles in the battles against Athens and the recent battle against the Persians, and he treated Andronicus differently than the other boys from the start.

 Andronicus arrived at the camp a sad, lonely boy, still stricken with grief over his father’s death. On his first day there, he met a boy named Euthymius, and they became friends almost instantly. By the second week, they were inseparable. Andronicus got along with almost all the boys in his class, but Euthymius quickly became his closest friend.

Andronicus showed superior fighting skill from the very beginning, beating every other student in his class. Most of the other boys seemed impressed with Andronicus, except for a boy named Lycus. Lycus was also the son of a great warrior; a great fallen warrior. Lycus always seemed jealous of the way Archelaus treated Andronicus, and the two boys constantly fought to be the best at anything and everything. They would fight each other often, and Archelaus would usually let them go until one was beaten, making them both stronger. Andronicus liked to think he had won more times, but he eventually lost count.

                                                  8

The boys trained every day from dawn to dusk. They ate three meals a day and ran five miles a day. By the time Androcles began training, two years later, Andronicus and his friends had become fit young fighters, ready to throw a blow at the slightest insult. Androcles had a different teacher, but the brothers got to see each other often enough. Andronicus gave his younger brother help and advice, and Androcles quickly became the best fighter in his class as well.

Androcles followed his older brother around whenever he could. Since he showed much the same promise, Andronicus’s friends accepted him as part of their group. Androcles did have one friend, however, who was his own age, a boy named Theodotus. Androcles and Theodotus became friends much as Andronicus and Euthymius had. Theodotus was not a very strong boy, but he was probably the smartest of them all. Theodotus’s father was a high priest in the temple of Apollo, and he made sure his son worshiped the gods fastidiously. Theodotus told them all kinds of stories about the gods, but only Androcles ever seemed to listen.

Over the next few years, Andronicus grew close with his band of friends and even with Lycus. Archelaus was strict and tough and drove the boys closer to each other through fear and exhaustion, and he made them strong. By the time Andronicus turned ten, he wanted nothing more in life than to be a great warrior like his father. He couldn’t wait until the day he would fight in his first battle. He already knew he was a superior fighter, and he longed for the day he could finally prove himself. Andronicus wanted nothing more than to be a great fighter like his father, but not in his wildest dreams could he ever imagine just how much fighting he would have to do in his life.

Chapter 2

The First Test

1

Not long after Andronicus turned twelve, it was time for his first test, along with the rest of his class. They were all sent home for the night to see their families before they went off to face the mysterious trial.

Andronicus was surprised to see Androcles home as well. He was sick with a terrible cough and had been sent home to keep the other boys safe. Androcles tried asking him about the test, but Andronicus told him he had to concentrate.

Andronicus spent half the night lying in bed wide awake. He had spent months preparing for his first test, running and climbing and learning about the different plants and animals in the nearby woods. He didn’t know what the test was going to be, but he guessed it would be something in the woods. The older boys had all said that Andronicus and his friends would be so scared, they would cry like girls.

 Andronicus knew he could be brave, and yet he still could not fall asleep. He could hear Androcles’s ragged snoring next to him. Androcles had had the bad cough all winter, and at night his breath sounded like stones grinding in a jar.

As he lay awake, Andronicus imagined the many different perils he might face the next day. His mind was full of monsters and demons. He knew that minotaurs didn’t really exist, but he imagined fighting one with Lycus and Euthymius nonetheless. He knew there were wolves in the woods. He had heard them at night before, and he wondered if he would see one in his test.

He finally drifted off to sleep sometime later and awoke as the sun peeked through the window. He wasted no time getting dressed and ready for his big day. He was nervous and excited all at once, and more than anything he just wanted to get started. Androcles sat on his bed in the corner, coughing lightly every thirty seconds or so as Andronicus slid into his new sandals.

“What do you think you’ll have to do?” Androcles asked.

Andronicus sighed deeply. “You know no one knows the test before they take it,” he snapped, as if he hadn’t been pondering the same question all night.

Andronicus turned around and saw his mother standing in the doorway, smiling at him. “You look wonderful, darling. Very tough,” she said brightly. “Your brother looks tough, doesn’t he, Androcles?”

“Oh, yes.” Androcles perked up at being noticed. “He’s the toughest in his whole class.”

Andronicus was oblivious to his younger brother’s admiration. When he had finished tying his belt, he marched out of his room with Androcles at his heels. Athenia bent down and gave Andronicus a quick kiss on the cheek, and he hurriedly wiped it off when Androcles started snickering.

Athenia and Androcles both wished him luck as he set off back to the city. As he rode back to Sparta in the back of a rickety ox cart, his mind jumped from one mad idea to the next, imagining things he knew wouldn’t happen. He arrived thinking he was early, only to find Lycus and Nikopheros already waiting.

“Always just a step behind,” Lycus said, to Niko’s delight. Andronicus glared at them as they laughed.

“We’ll see who’s a step behind when the test is over,” he replied, sneering. It looked like Lycus wanted to say something more, but at that moment a group of five boys walked up to join them, Euthymius amongst them. Thymi came over and stood next to Andronicus as they waited for the last few stragglers. The boys all spoke excitedly as they waited for the test to begin. Many of them claimed to have heard what the test was from their older brothers, but they all told a different story.

Andronicus and Thymi were listening intently to another boy’s claim that they would be sent out to battle a group of Athenian boys when Archelaus emerged from his quarters. They all fell silent and scurried into line under Archelaus’s fierce gaze. He looked them over silently, searching for any mistakes in their attire.

“You there,” Archelaus barked, “your sandal is torn. Go home.” The boy began to plead but stopped when he saw the menacing look on Archelaus’s face. He turned and ran off, weeping loudly.

“Anyone else?” Archelaus asked. No one made so much as a peep.

“Good. Now line up behind me in two rows of five.” The boys hurried into new lines as Archelaus spoke. “We are going to march through the old road and under the pass of Hermes. You will not speak to anyone. You will not wave to anyone. You will not so much as look at anyone, or I will send you home.”

The boys all shuddered at the thought of Archelaus shouting their name in front of everyone and sending them away. They formed two perfectly straight lines and stood silently, awaiting instruction. Archelaus bellowed out his marching order, and the boys quickly fell to.

2

          Andronicus marched at the head of his column of five. Their sandaled feet thudded against the old stones in perfect unison, as they had been practicing for months. The street was lined with women and young children watching the procession. Amongst the women, Andronicus saw a few men, the old and the wounded. The observers neither cheered nor waved; they simply watched the young phalanx march by. Andronicus remembered watching the older boys march off to their tests when he was a small child, and he felt immense pride at being one of those boys now.

          Archelaus walked a few feet in front of the columns, leading them to their still unknown testing grounds. Andronicus didn’t know what the test was going to be, but he was fairly confident he would pass it. He had risen to the top of the class quickly, and now, six years in, he was the natural group leader. The only other member of the class who could keep up with him was Lycus, who marched at his side, leading the other column.

          As they marched in rhythm, some of the boys’ mothers called to them or waved. Lycus’s mother called out to him, and his pale skin flushed red when Andronicus looked over at him. Andronicus smirked to himself, knowing how much Lycus hated looking childish.

A few minutes later, Andronicus saw his own mother standing in the crowd, and he tensed up. She didn’t wave, as some of the other mothers had; she simply smiled at him. He returned the smile and felt a warm assurance that he would pass his test, and pass it before Lycus.

Not long after that, Andronicus saw Androcles sitting with Theodotus. Androcles beamed and waved fiercely as Andronicus marched past. Andronicus smiled and gave his brother a quick wink before continuing down the path.

                                                            3

          As they neared the end of the street, Andronicus felt his nerves start to rise again. He peered ahead but could not see any sign of a test. He looked over at Lycus and saw him searching around wildly for a clue of their test as well. When they finally reached the end of the stone path and passed under the high old archway of Hermes, Archelaus stopped and turned abruptly to face them. Andronicus and Lycus stopped in unison and blindly hoped the rest of the group would do likewise. Andronicus held his breath as Archelaus glared down at them with his scarred, angry face, waiting silently for his command.

          “You may fall out of formation and walk the rest of the way from here,” Archelaus said, finally breaking the tense silence. As soon as he said it, he turned and strode off down the dirt path leading toward the forest. Andronicus looked at Lycus and saw that he looked as puzzled as Andronicus felt. He looked behind him and saw Euthymius and Nikopheros looking at him for instruction. He turned back and saw Archelaus already fifty feet down the path. Andronicus sprinted after him and saw Lycus do the same out of the corner of his eye.

          The two lead boys raced down the path, leaving the rest behind. Andronicus reached Archelaus’s side two steps before Lycus.

          “That’s not fair!” Lycus shouted angrily. “You started first!” Andronicus laughed and flung his arms in the air, and Lycus lunged at him. Andronicus fell to the ground but pulled Lycus down with him. The boys wrestled in the dirt until Archelaus grabbed them both by the backs of their shirts and wrenched them apart. He threw them onto their backs in the dirt on opposing sides of the path.

“Enough!” Archelaus shouted ferociously. “I will have no nonsense on the day of your test.” He glared down at Lycus, who shriveled away, trying but failing to hide his look of anger. “Any more of your outbursts, Lycus, and you can take your test with next year’s class.”

Archelaus turned and resumed his stoic march down the old road. Euthymius arrived a moment later and helped Andronicus to his feet. Nikopheros tried to help Lycus up, but Lycus swatted his hand away and scurried to his feet by himself. He glared at Andronicus before turning to follow Archelaus.

The boys walked in groups of twos and threes down the path, with Archelaus in front. They whispered back and forth about what the mysterious test might be. Andronicus and Euthymius debated whether or not they would have to fight and, if so, what they would have to fight.

“They’re not going to make us fight today, Thymi. We haven’t even had that much training yet,” Andronicus whispered. Euthymius still looked unconvinced as he nervously nipped at his fingernails.

“Yes, but everything is about fighting here,” he replied. “It would be just like them to make us fight for our first test, to see if we can or not.” Andronicus knew his friend could fight if he had to; he just didn’t like it.

          “I don’t think it will be fighting, Thymi,” Andronicus said, trying to reassure him. “I think it’s going to be something about being strong and fast. Most of our training so far has been about being able to run a lot and be strong. The test is probably just that.” Euthymius looked a little bit less worried, but Andronicus knew he was still quite scared.

“And besides,” Andronicus continued, trying to reassure him, “even if it is fighting, you’ll do just fine.”

“Oh, I hate fighting,” Euthymius whined. It was his favorite thing to say. “Everything is always about fighting.” Andronicus shook his head and smiled, then continued walking toward the woods. It seemed more and more likely as they went that the test would be somewhere in the woods.

                                                  4

As the sun set in the west, Andronicus started wondering if the test would be in the dark, though he decided not to mention that thought to Thymi. He looked around and saw the other boys all walking with their heads down, all except Lycus. He was still shooting angry glances at Andronicus while grinding his teeth together. Andronicus liked beating Lycus, but he never really got that angry when he lost. Lycus, on the other hand, resented Andronicus for every single loss he had suffered over the years, and sometimes Andronicus worried about him.

The boys marched on, blindly following Archelaus down the path. When the sun fell below the hills in the distance, the light began to fade. Soon the boys were marching through the dark night. The moon was barely a sliver, and a few dark clouds moved slowly across the starry sky. The boys huddled together and followed closely behind Archelaus, who hadn’t said a word since they left the city.

The trees started to get thicker and denser as they went, and Andronicus realized they had entered the forest some time ago. He looked up and could no longer see the stars. He looked from side to side and could barely see the outline of the boys walking on either side of him. They kept walking through the dark for a while, a few of the boys stumbling along.

“Stop!” Archelaus’s sturdy voice called out from ahead. Andronicus stopped immediately and felt the other boys do the same around him. Dark thoughts raced through Andronicus’s mind as he stood there in the pitch dark, waiting for Archelaus to speak again. He wondered if this was the testing grounds, if they would have to spend the night here. Or perhaps Euthymius was right; maybe they would have to fight in the total darkness of the forest. Maybe Archelaus had stopped because he saw or heard something up ahead. He could have seen a wolf in the road or a troop of Athenians sitting in the darkness, waiting for Spartans to come along, so they could kill them. Andronicus’s mind was full of all sorts of dark possibilities that might lay ahead.

          “Your test begins now,” Archelaus’s menacing voice said softly from the darkness, and the boys all shrank back. “You will remain here in the forest.”

Andronicus let out a small sigh of relief. Spending a night in the forest wouldn’t be so bad.

“Until I return,” Archelaus finished coldly.

A small chill went up Andronicus’s spine as he heard Archelaus’s heavy footfalls begin in the direction they had come from. Andronicus pondered the idea of being stuck out there for a week or more as Archelaus’s footsteps faded away, but he tried not to think about it. The boys all remained silent until they couldn’t hear Archelaus’s steps anymore.

                                                            5

          Andronicus crouched in the darkness, shivering lightly. He felt someone standing to either side of him, but he couldn’t make out who they were. They all stood in silence, huddled together in the darkness, each contemplating what they might have to do before Archelaus returned.

          “What do we do now?” Nikopheros asked, his voice finally breaking the tense silence.

          “We wait, stupid,” Lycus snapped, “and in the morning we hunt for food.”

“Lycus is right,” Andronicus agreed, trying to sound braver than he felt. He bent down and started feeling along the ground. “We can’t see anything, so we might as well sleep here until morning.”

A low chorus of sighs and groans greeted his recommendation, but the boys all spread out and found a spot to sleep for the night. It was slow going because none of them could see much of anything in the pitch black, but eventually they all got settled. Andronicus and Euthymius stayed up talking long after the others had fallen asleep.

“Living in the woods isn’t so bad at all,” Thymi said, sounding much calmer than he had been on the walk over, “I bet we could stay here for a week if we had to, even two.”

“And what are we going to eat, knucklehead?” Andronicus asked, “Just because Lycus says he can hunt for us doesn’t mean he can.”

“Well, if he can’t do it, then you’ll have to,” Thymi said. “We’ll all try to help, but either you or him will have to do it.” Andronicus fell silent as he considered that. He had always been the top of the class, but now it seemed he would truly have to be their leader.

“I know,” he said after a long pause. They lay silently for some time before they drifted off to dream big dreams.

                                                  6

The boys rose with the sun, most of them utterly confused at their strange surroundings. The trees were thick overhead, but bits of light shone through, lighting the forest floor. As they shook off their sleep and stretched their strained backs, they looked around at each other, no one knowing quite what to do.

“I guess it’s time to get some food,” Lycus said self-assuredly, looking at Andronicus.

“For now we should probably just look for berries,” Andronicus suggested, “until we find something better.”

“You can have berries for breakfast if you like,” Lycus said with a laugh. “Me and Niko will be eating rabbit.”

“And who will be catching this rabbit?” Andronicus asked with a smirk. Lycus turned a deep red and balled his hands into fists.

“I’m going to catch the rabbit,” he said angrily, “I have caught plenty of rabbits before. Have you never caught a rabbit?” Some of the other boys snickered and looked at Andronicus nervously.

“I have killed many rabbits, “Andronicus replied coolly, staring back at Lycus, “but I have never caught a rabbit with my bare hands, and neither have you.” All the boys’ eyes got wide as they looked back to Lycus. He turned an even brighter shade of red and glared at Andronicus with fire in his eyes.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Lycus asked in a low, menacing voice.

Andronicus sighed in exasperation. “I’m not calling you anything, Lycus. I’m just saying that catching a rabbit is harder than you think. It will take you all day, if you can even do it at all. It’s better if we find some berries for now and try to hunt for supper.”

“Well, have fun with your berries then,” Lycus teased. “Come on, Niko, we’re going to get some real food.” Niko looked uncertain as he glanced from Lycus’s self-assured smirk to Andronicus’s calm demeanor.

“Go on, Niko,” Andronicus whispered, so Lycus couldn’t hear. “I’ll pick some extra berries for you just in case.” Niko gave him a thankful smile and then turned to follow Lycus. Lycus glared at Andronicus before marching down the path.

As Lycus and Nikopheros crept through the woods looking for rabbits, Andronicus split the rest of the group in two, each group going a different way down the path, looking for berries. Archelaus had taught them about every berry that was in this forest, and Andronicus remembered all the poisonous ones. Kleitos claimed to remember all of the poisonous berries as well, so he led the second group.

Andronicus had only led his group about a hundred yards down the path when they found a short sword sticking straight out of the ground, its blade shoved deep into the dirt. Andronicus knew the sword must be from Archelaus, a test to see how they would handle it, and he was glad Lycus was not there at that moment.

Andronicus grasped the sword’s hilt and tugged, but the thing wouldn’t budge. He grabbed the hilt with both hands and planted his feet in the dirt. After taking a few quick, deep breaths, Andronicus pulled up with all his might. The dirt gave way, and the sword flew out, sending Andronicus tumbling backwards into the dirt. The boys all laughed as Andronicus got to his feet, dusting himself off and joining in the laughter.

“Well, now that we have a sword, we may actually be able to catch a rabbit or two,” Andronicus said cheerily. “It’s too bad Lycus isn’t here to show us how.” The boys all laughed cheerfully as they started back up the path.

                                                  7

When the sun reached its peak, Andronicus’s little group had only found one small patch of berries. They split them up evenly until the bush was bare, and Andronicus set some aside for Niko and Lycus. He only hoped the other group had found some berries themselves. He had seen a couple of rabbits throughout the day, but the boys had been making so much noise that the animals had fled as soon as they were within earshot.

Andronicus turned his group back to meet up with the others, as they had agreed upon earlier. A few hours later, they found them not far from where they had spent the night. Kleitos’s group had found three berry patches down their side of the path. After a quick discussion, they all agreed to spend the night by one of the patches down that way. They had begun to walk back down the path when Euthymius spoke up.

“Wait,” he said, sounding alarmed. “What about Lycus and Niko? They won’t know which way we went.”

“Thymi’s right,” Andronicus said after a moment’s thought. “I’ll wait here for them. You boys follow Kleitos to the berry patch.”

“I’ll wait too then,” Thymi said solemnly. “I’m the one who brought it up.”

“Here,” Andronicus said to Kleitos, holding out the sword, “you take it.” Kleitos eyed the sword nervously. He was definitely smart, but he had never shown much skill with a blade.

“I think you should keep it,” Kleitos said, trying to hide his red face. “There are more of us, so you two will need it.” Andronicus shrugged his agreement, and Kleitos quickly turned away.

Andronicus and Euthymius found themselves a couple of nice trees to sit against as the rest of the group disappeared down the path.

“Do you think Lycus has caught any rabbits?” Thymi asked with a smirk. Andronicus burst into giggles, and Thymi joined him. They laughed for nearly twenty minutes, joking about Lycus trying to catch a rabbit with his bare hands.

“This is not such a bad test at all,” Thymi said once they had settled down. “I actually kind of like being out here in the woods, eating berries and looking for rabbits.” His grin faltered and then fell off completely. “It’s a lot better than training to be a great warrior all day,” he said mockingly.

“Training isn’t so bad,” Andronicus said. “You just don’t like fighting is all.”

“I don’t like any of it,” Thymi corrected him. “I don’t like running or hunting or fishing, and I especially don’t like fighting.”

“So, what do you like, Thymi?” Andronicus asked in an exasperated tone.

“This,” Thymi said, “just sitting around in the forest with nothing to do but watch the trees and the birds and the sky and talk.”

“You would rather sit around in the forest all day than try to get better at fighting?” Andronicus asked, incredulous.

“Yes,” Thymi answered seriously. He stared Andronicus in the eye. “I would much rather sit in the forest all day than be a great warrior.”

Andronicus smiled at first, thinking Thymi was joking with him. Then he saw that Thymi truly meant what he had said. Andronicus couldn’t fathom not wanting to be a great warrior. It was all he had ever wanted, but Thymi truly seemed to hate the idea of being a warrior.

The boys fell silent for a while, Andronicus struggling with the ideas Thymi had presented and Euthymius just sitting peacefully against his tree, a soft smile on his face.

                                                  8

About an hour later, Lycus and Niko came stumbling out of the trees. Both of them were covered in small cuts and scrapes, and Niko had a long deep red gash running across his left arm.

“Looks like you didn’t have too much luck,” Andronicus said with just a hint of teasing in his voice. “It turns out Archelaus left us a sword to hunt with.”

Lycus looked up in outrage. Niko’s face fell comically as he realized his day through the brush had been a total waste.

“So, have you caught any rabbits?” Lycus shot at him.

“Well, no,” Andronicus admitted. “They all ran before I could get close.”

Lycus’s lips spread into a smirk. “Well, then I guess you won’t mind if the next time we see one you let me take the sword,” he taunted. Andronicus nodded reluctantly and then handed the sword to him.

The four boys set off down the path, trying to make as little noise as possible. Andronicus hated to think of Lycus coming back the hero, but if he really could catch a rabbit, it would be worth it. The berries would keep them alive, but his stomach was already yearning for a bit of meat.

                                                  9

They found no rabbits on the path before they came upon the rest of the group. Most of the other boys were sitting around eating berries and laughing when they arrived. The laughter quickly died when they saw Lycus’s angry face.

“It will be getting dark in a couple of hours,” Andronicus said to the group, “unless we want berries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner we better go catch a rabbit or two.” Everyone nodded or grunted their agreement.

“I think me and Lycus should go,” Andronicus said cautiously, looking over at Lycus. “We’re the best hunters, and we’ll have better luck if it’s just the two of us.” Lycus scowled at Andronicus. He looked to be somewhere between confusion and anger, as if he was unsure of Andronicus’s intentions. No one protested, and Andronicus stared silently at Lycus, waiting for a response.

“Fine,” Lycus finally spat, “but I get the sword first.” Andronicus nodded and then rolled his eyes to Euthymius as Lycus turned his back. Euthymius held in his laughter as he watched the two of them walk off to their hunt.

They walked well down the path without saying a word to each other. Lycus still had his face all scrunched up in anger, and Andronicus didn’t like the way he was gripping the sword.

Just then they heard a slight rustle to their left. Both boys instinctively dropped to the ground, neither making a sound. They crept to the nearest bush on the side of the path. Careful not to make a peep, they looked over the bush and saw a deer eating some grass about thirty yards away.

Andronicus turned to Lycus and motioned to himself, pointed behind the deer, then motioned for Lycus to go wait in front of it. Lycus nodded curtly and then made his way around. Andronicus crept quietly through the dirt, trying to get as near to the doe as possible without spooking it. He was nearly behind the deer when he stepped on a small twig, sending a cracking noise echoing through the silent woods. The deer’s head snapped up immediately. It stood perfectly still, one leg lifted as if it were about to flee, its head cocked around nearly all the way.

Andronicus held perfectly still, mimicking the deer. After a few seconds, the deer lowered its leg and then brought its head back down to the patch of grass. Andronicus crept a few feet closer and then stopped. He couldn’t see Lycus, but he hoped he was in position. He could feel his heart racing as he waited for Lycus to give the signal. He started to worry the deer would leave before Lycus was ready.

Finally, he couldn’t wait anymore; he just had to hope Lycus was in position. Andronicus jumped out from his hiding spot and shouted as loud as he could. The deer’s initial flinch was quite comical. Andronicus startled it so badly, its feet slipped in the dirt before catching a grip. In an utter panic, the deer sprinted away.

Andronicus saw the sword before he saw Lycus. It spun through the air, glinting in the sun on each quick rotation. Andronicus watched in what felt like slow motion as the sword spun once, twice, and then plunged into the fleeing deer’s side. The sword sank about halfway into the beast’s hide, sending it into an awkward sideways gallop.

“Chase it!” Andronicus shouted, seeing Lycus already running after it. The boys ran after the deer as fast as they could, ducking and weaving around bushes. Even with the sword in its side, the deer was faster, but it stumbled awkwardly, leaving a thick trail of blood. They chased the poor beast for nearly half a mile before it finally collapsed. When they came upon it, it was still struggling to get up. Andronicus pulled the sword from its side and raised it over his head, when Lycus stopped him.

“Hold on,” Lycus said between panting breaths, “it’s my kill. I get to finish it.” Lycus was right. Andronicus handed him the sword and stepped aside. Lycus quickly plunged the blade into the deer’s neck. It struggled a second longer, its eyes filled with a wild, terrible fear, before keeling over.

Once the deer was dead, both boys took a step back and stared down at it.

“Good job, Lycus,” Andronicus said softly without looking at him. “That was a perfect throw.” Lycus didn’t respond. Andronicus looked over at him and saw him staring down at the deer’s face. For a moment it looked like Lycus was about to cry, but then it passed.

“How are we going to get it to the others?” Lycus finally asked. Andronicus hadn’t thought about that. There was no way the two of them would be able to carry the carcass back to the group.

“I suppose I’ll have to go and get them,” Andronicus said, “and you wait here and guard it.”

“I’ll start on the deer then,” Lycus said, kneeling beside his kill. “Try to find some good sticks for a fire on your way back.”

Andronicus nodded and then headed back to the path. It wasn’t hard to find because the deer had left such a thick trail of blood. Once he found the path, it didn’t take him long to reach the group.

At first they didn’t believe him when he said Lycus had killed a deer. He had to spend nearly ten minutes just convincing the group it wasn’t a joke. Once he convinced them to at least come with him, they set out again.

                                                  10

When they reached Lycus, his arms and chest were covered in blood, and smears of blood were all over his pale face. He had already managed to skin the bottom half of the deer and was slowly working his way around the forelegs. It was an impressive sight as they walked up to him.

“Good work,” Andronicus said, genuinely impressed with Lycus’s quick progress. “Need any help?”

“Does it look like I need help?” Lycus smiled as he cut carefully through the deer’s hide. Andronicus rolled his eyes as he turned to start the fire. They had gathered enough good sticks on the walk over, and they also found two stones that were perfect for starting a fire. Andronicus and Niko took turns trying to start the fire for nearly ten minutes before the flame finally took hold. By then Lycus had the deer’s skin up over its back with just the head and front legs remaining.

“We should start cutting pieces off to cook,” Andronicus suggested. Lycus nodded and started butchering the animal as he had been taught. He handed Andronicus several long strips of bloody red meat, and Andronicus stuck each strip of meat on a stick and started handing them out. Niko took the first piece and started cooking it over the fire.

It was slow work, and Lycus and Andronicus were the last to eat, but by the time it was fully dark, the boys had all eaten their fill of venison. They spread out and took places around the fire, preparing for another night in the forest. After a quick discussion, they decided someone should stay up to guard them, just in case a wolf came for their remaining meat. Niko wound up with the first watch as everyone else spread out for the night. Andronicus lay looking up at the stars until he dozed off to sleep.

                                                  11

Andronicus woke abruptly to the sound of shouting. He opened his eyes to see that it was still dark out, then turned to see what was going on. The fire they had built was just a smoldering pile of embers, but it gave just enough light for Andronicus to see Niko standing with the sword in his hands.

“Lycus! Andronicus!” Niko shouted. “Wake up! Wake up!”

“What is it?” Andronicus said in a sleepy voice, trying to see what Niko was afraid of.

“Wolves,” Niko said, sounding terrified. “There are wolves out there. I can hear them.”

“You probably just dozed off and had a dream,” Lycus said from somewhere in the dark.

“No!” Niko shrieked, “I heard them. They’re out there.”

At that moment there was a loud rustling sound from somewhere in the dark, and all the boys fell silent. Andronicus scrambled to his feet and walked over to Niko, calmly taking the sword from Niko’s shaking hands. Then they heard a low growl coming from somewhere in front of them. Andronicus knew Niko was right; he was sure the wolves had come for the deer meat. They should have known better than to sleep next to the carcass.

“Niko,” Andronicus whispered, “try to get the fire going again.” Niko bent down and began adding wood and blowing on the embers. Within a matter of seconds a small flame ignited.

“Everyone get away from the carcass,” Lycus said as he helped Niko. “Come over here by the fire.”

As the boys huddled together by the fire, Andronicus saw the first wolf come slinking toward them. It looked totally black as it crept forward out of the darkness, its head lowered in an intimidating stare. It stood almost as tall as Andronicus, baring its long white fangs. Andronicus stood his ground, the short sword gripped tightly in his hand. The rest of the boys all watched in dismay as Andronicus stepped forward, facing down the wolf.

The wolf waited a few seconds longer, perched on its haunches, growling at Andronicus. When the wolf leaped at him, Andronicus lunged with the sword. He felt the blade hit the wolf, then drive deep into the beast’s chest. The wolf’s jaws snapped shut inches from his face, and then he felt the claws hit his chest and dig in. Andronicus fell backward from the force of it, and the wolf landed on top of him. When Andronicus hit the dirt, he let out a heavy grunt and felt his lungs close.

As he gasped for air, he felt the wolf being lifted off him. When he was free, he rolled onto his side, still struggling to breathe. As he lay there, gasping for air, a loud howl rose up from the darkness, followed by a ferocious growl. Andronicus tried to scramble to his feet, still coughing and choking, but Lycus rushed forward and pulled the sword out of the dead wolf, waiting for the next one.

A second later another wolf came hurtling out of the darkness. It was much faster than the first one, and even though Lycus successfully plunged the sword into the beast, it hit him with its whole body, snapping its jaws at him and sending him flying backwards. The wolf’s fang caught Lycus in the right cheek as it impaled itself, leaving a dark red gash. Lycus went flipping through the dirt, and the wolf collapsed into a dead heap. There was another wolf howl, followed by another, and then a whole chorus of them.

Andronicus grabbed the sword and then stepped forward, ready to face all the wolves, if necessary. Niko stepped up to his side, holding a rock in his hand, a determined look on his face. A moment later Thymi joined them, then Lycus, and then a few of the others. They all stood together, ready to fight the wolves to the death, when they heard a loud whistle.

Andronicus heard a wolf run at them from their left and then another from their right. He stood his ground, sword in hand, ready to fight to the very end. Then, out of nowhere, a large figure leapt in front of them. There was a flash of light as a sword was swung, and Andronicus heard one wolf go down and then the other. When the wolves were down, the dark figure turned to face the boys, who stared up at him in wonder.

“You did well today,” Archelaus said from the darkness. Andronicus felt relief wash over him, and he heard several of the other boys let out nervous sighs. “You passed your test,” Archelaus said. “I will take you home now.”

“I thought we had to stay out here for a week,” Niko said, his voice still shaking.

“You had to stay out here until you proved yourselves,” Archelaus replied. “And you have done that.”

“You were watching us,” Andronicus said as the realization struck him. “You were watching us the whole time.”

“Of course I was!” Archelaus barked. “You are children, but today you acted like men, like Spartans. Your fathers would be proud.”

As they started back toward the city, the sun began to crest the horizon. The boys all walked in silence as the land brightened. Andronicus looked around and noticed that he and Lycus were both covered in wolf’s blood and a bit of their own as well. Andronicus felt pride wash over him as he walked amongst his peers. He had saved them, and so had Lycus. They would be heroes. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he left his test feeling prouder than he had ever felt before.

Chapter 3

A Thinker

                                                            1

          The day after they returned from their test, Archelaus woke the boys earlier than usual. They got up slowly, stretching out the many aches in their necks and backs. After two days of sleeping on the ground in the woods, everyone was a little annoyed at being woken from their soft beds, but they knew better than to complain. Andronicus and Lycus dressed quickly while the others moped slowly along.

          Once awake, the boys followed Archelaus out into the courtyard. Andronicus was sure he was going to make them begin training right away, and he felt ready. The boys all stopped and stared, totally baffled, as Archelaus walked right through the courtyard and out the main gate. They looked around nervously at each other, wondering if they were meant to follow.

          “What are you waiting for?” Archelaus bellowed as he strode back through the gate. The boys all hurried along as Archelaus glared at them.

Once through the gate, Archelaus led the boys along a street going up the hill toward the temple of Apollo. Andronicus thought he saw people looking at them admiringly and wondered if everyone had heard how they had killed the wolves and defended themselves. He couldn’t help but puff out his chest as they walked.

          As they neared the temple, Archelaus turned up a narrow pathway that led farther up the hill. None of the boys had any clue as to where Archelaus was taking them, but they followed hurriedly nonetheless. The hill was steep, and all the boys but Andronicus and Lycus were panting heavily when they finally reached the top.

          Andronicus looked around and was taken aback at the beauty of the place on top of the hill. He was not used to thinking of things as beautiful, but the grove that sat upon the hill couldn’t be described any other way. There were tall green trees Andronicus had never seen before with strange, colorful fruit hanging from some of them. Beneath two of the biggest trees was a small blue pond surrounded by a circle of large round stones. The stones were positioned so that anyone sitting on them could look out over the Eurotas river for miles as it stretched and snaked its way through the countryside.

          It wasn’t until the rest of the group reached the top that Andronicus noticed the old man sitting on a large stone facing the others. He wore long white robes that matched his white hair and beard, which fell below his chest, and a golden rope wrapped around his collar. The man was dangling his feet in the water, an old pair of grey sandals sitting next to him.

          “This is Philander,” Archelaus said, pointing at the old man. “You will be spending the day with him.” With that Archelaus turned and marched back down the path. The boys all looked around uncertainly at each other.

          “Come now,” the old man called in a soft voice. “Come and take a seat, each of you.” Slowly, the boys made their way over to the pond and took a seat. Andronicus sat next to Euthymius and Kleitos. Once everyone was seated, they all looked at the old man expectantly. Philander looked at them one at a time, not saying a word.

          “A strong group of boys you look like,” he said finally. “Archelaus is turning you into fine young fighters, no doubt.” The boys all nodded happily, pleased with the compliment.

          “It is my duty to make sure you are thinkers as well,” Philander said curtly, his voice cutting through the calm air. “Men like Archelaus think that a man is nothing if not a great warrior. I say that the philosopher is as important as the warrior. Perhaps one of you will become a great philosopher someday, like Anaximander or Pythagoras or Thales himself. Have you ever heard those names before?”

          Everyone looked around nervously, hoping no one else knew the names either.

          “But you have all heard of Achilles and Odysseus, no doubt.” The old man was about to continue when Euthymius spoke up.

          “Pythagoras was a mathematician,” Euthymius said, almost too quietly to hear. “Thales was a philosopher, and Anaximander his pupil.”

          “Very good,” Philander said, eyeing Euthymius with a wan smile, “at least one of you knows his histories. You, boy,” Philander said, eyeing Andronicus coldly, “you do not like the idea of learning?”

          “I want to learn how to fight,” Andronicus said proudly. “I don’t want to learn about old men and numbers.” Lycus and Niko both held back their giggles, but Philander snorted laughter like he thought Andronicus had said the funniest thing he had ever heard. Andronicus glared at him. This old man was treating him like a stupid child even though he had led the boys though the forest and killed a wolf.

          “You know the story of the Trojan War, boy?” Philander asked.

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          “Of course,” Andronicus shot back. It was his favorite story, and Achilles was his favorite hero.

          “Then you know that Agamemnon had the greatest army ever assembled and the greatest heroes who ever lived, and yet in twelve years he was not able to take the city with all his power and might. Do you know how Agamemnon took the city of Troy?”

          “Odysseus tricked the Trojans,” Andronicus said quickly. “He built a great wooden horse and gave it to them as an offering to Poseidon and hid in it with two dozen men.”

          “That is correct,” Philander said, nodding and smiling as he turned to the others. “So, what does this story teach us?”

          “To trick our enemies?” Lycus said quickly.

          “Mmm . . .” Philander looked gravely at Lycus. “I believe there is a better lesson than that.”

          “That two dozen good men can take down an army if they are stealthy enough,” Andronicus said, knowing it was not the answer the old man sought.

          “No,” Philander said angrily, “that is not the lesson.” He looked like he was about to scold Andronicus when Thymi spoke up.

          “For twelve years the very best fighters failed. And when all the fighters failed, a single thinker succeeded.” Everyone stared at Euthymius in surprise, each of them realizing the truth of his words. Philander smiled softly at Euthymius. He remained silent for a while, leaving the boys alone with their thoughts.

          “When the best fighters failed, a single thinker succeeded,” Philander said after a time, smiling softly. “You have a way with words, my young friend. What is your name?”

          “Euthymius, but everyone calls me Thymi.”

          “You are a thinker, Thymi,” Philander said. “Never let the fighters make you forget that.” Thymi smiled proudly at the old man. Andronicus was thoroughly annoyed; he certainly knew why Archelaus had been in such a foul mood on the way up to see this old fool. Andronicus had wanted nothing but to be a great fighter since he was born, and now this old man favored Thymi for not wanting to fight. It was utterly maddening.

                                                            2

          They spent the entire day with Philander, discussing everything Andronicus could imagine, from history to the stars to the gods themselves. When the sun went down, and Andronicus thought he could no longer listen to another word, Archelaus finally appeared at the steps.

          “Here now!” Archelaus roared, snapping everyone out of their peaceful state. “Talking time is over.” Andronicus leapt up and ran to Archelaus, Lycus and Niko at his heels.

          “How was your day with the old thinker?” Archelaus asked mockingly.

          “Old fool more like,” Lycus said quietly. Andronicus and Niko both giggled quietly, and Archelaus’s scarred face broke into a wicked grin. Andronicus looked over and saw Kleitos and Thymi frowning at them.

          “Well, don’t worry,” Archelaus snarled. “I won’t let the whole day go to waste. You are going to run before you sleep tonight.”

          “But it’s dark,” Kleitos said.

          “Then I suggest you take care not to fall,” Archelaus replied, already starting down the hill.

          They walked slowly down the hill, careful of their footing, but once they reached the dirt road, they began to run. Archelaus turned them away from the courtyard and up an old road. As they ran, Andronicus thought he knew why Archelaus was making them run. He was punishing the ones who had enjoyed the day with Philander and giving the boys who had disliked it exactly what they wanted. Andronicus felt good for the first time all day as he ran ahead of the rest of the boys. He was back where he belonged, in the front.

          When they finally reached the courtyard, Andronicus ran through the gate well before the group, with Lycus not far behind. When the others finally caught up, Andronicus expected them to congratulate him on winning again, like they normally did, but they didn’t. They weren’t even looking at him.

Kleitos and Thymi were debating who could name more star constellations, and the others were all listening in. For a moment Andronicus wanted to yell at them, to remind them that he was the fastest and the strongest. That he was the one who had killed the wolf and saved them. That constellations and math weren’t going to win battles.

          Thymi saw Andronicus glowering over at them and looked down. He told Kleitos that he couldn’t remember any more and then walked over to Andronicus.

          “Good race, Andy,” Thymi said, smiling at him.

          In that moment Andronicus felt shame wash over him. Thymi was his best friend. He had always been his best friend. Andronicus had always been the best at everything, and Thymi had never been the best. Now Thymi was the best at something, but did Andronicus congratulate him, as Thymi had always done for him? No, he was angry and jealous.

          “I’m sorry, Thymi,” Andronicus said, fighting back tears.

          “For what?” Thymi asked, honestly taken aback.

          “For acting like Lycus all day,” he said, looking at his feet. “That old man Philander looks at you the way Archelaus looks at me. I guess I was jealous.”

          “You think I never get jealous of you?” Thymi asked. “You’re the best at everything. But I think that’s why we have two teachers, one a fighter and one a thinker, so we can learn both ways, and end up somewhere in the middle.”

          “Philander was right,” Andronicus said, smiling, “you do have a way with words, Thymi. I’ll give Philander a chance; I promise.”

          “Good,” Thymi said as they started toward the others. “And I promise to do all the damned running Archelaus wants. With any luck we’ll both end up a couple of true heroes.”

Chapter 4

A Call to Duty

                                                            1

               After their big test in the woods, everything began to fall into rhythm for Andronicus and his companions. The boys trained with Archelaus five days a week and studied with Philander on the other two days. Andronicus was always the best when it came to running and fighting, or almost anything physical. Lycus and Niko were the only two who could keep up with him, and it didn’t take long before the three of them were facing down boys a few years older than them in fights, and winning. Andronicus and Lycus both gained reputations as fierce fighters by the age of thirteen.

When Andronicus turned fourteen, Androcles and Theodotus got moved up into the same group as him and his friends. At first Andronicus was worried that his brother would follow him around like a puppy, as he had when they were little. But Androcles had his own life and his own way. The two brothers lived separate lives, but they grew close nonetheless, as did their friends.

          Over the years they became a strong group within the group: Andronicus, Androcles, Thymi, Theo, Niko, and Lycus. Lycus grew a bit less jealous with each passing year, though he still competed with Andronicus at every opportunity. Andronicus and Lycus even formed a special bond through their constant competition. They were the two fastest and the strongest, and they continually pushed each other to be better.

          During Philander’s lessons, it was Thymi and Theodotus who shone. Thymi had a way with words and a way of thinking out problems that the rest of them couldn’t. Theo, on the other hand, had a memory like an ocean. It was as if he never forgot a thing. The two of them would answer Philander’s questions so often that the old man had to ask them to wait to see if anyone else could answer first.

          Between their studies and their training, the boys grew into the warriors most of them had always dreamt of becoming. At sixteen, Andronicus had grown strong and tall. He stood over six feet and was covered in hard toned muscles. His shiny black hair had grown long and wavy, and he had even begun to sprout a few whiskers under his chin. His face had taken on a stoic demeanor, with a strong jaw and a stern brow, much like his father. The boys only got to see the young women of Sparta during festivals and marches, but even then Andronicus did quite well, as did Lycus.

          Athenia and Archelaus both told Andronicus often how much he resembled his father. Androcles looked very much like Andronicus, and most people could tell they were brothers, but everyone who had known him said that Andronicus was the spitting image of Aristocles. His father had been a renowned warrior, and Andronicus had every intention to be even better. Archelaus told him he moved faster with a blade than anyone he had ever seen, but no matter how much Andronicus succeeded during training, it still wasn’t the real thing.

          When word of a second Persian invasion began to spread in the summer of 480 bc, Andronicus was the first to ask Archelaus to let him join the army. It was said that King Leonidas himself was leading a massive host of men from across the Greek cities to try and stop the Persian army before they reached Greece. At first Archelaus told him to stop being a foolish boy, that he was not ready for war. Andronicus argued that his father had gone to battle at seventeen, and Andronicus was only a few months shy of his seventeenth birthday, but still Archelaus refused.

          Andronicus’s frustration continued to grow. He wanted nothing more than to be able to fight the Persians, as his father had done. Not only would he finally be doing what he had spent his entire life training for, he would get to fight the very men who had killed his father. It didn’t matter if it was actually the same men; to Andronicus, all of Persia was responsible for his father’s death, and he intended to get his revenge on as many of them as possible.

                                                            2

          Then one morning it finally happened. Archelaus lined the boys up in the courtyard as a thick fog spread around them. Everyone stood in dead silence, staring at Archelaus with cold sweat running down their backs, waiting for whatever terrible orders he had for them. Andronicus could tell everyone around him was nervous. He was not nervous though; he was exhilarated. He knew what was coming, and he knew he was going to be picked.

He looked to his right and saw Thymi looking like he was about to vomit. His face was a nasty pale green color, and had one hand on his stomach. Andronicus turned to his left to see Lycus looking as eager as he felt, and he knew he would be coming as well. They stood in silence for a long moment, waiting breathlessly. The tension hung in the air like the mist around them.

          “Andronicus!” Archelaus finally bellowed, making several boys jump slightly. Andronicus let out a huge sigh as relief and joy washed over him, leaving him feeling lightheaded. He was finally going to war. “Lycus,” Archelaus continued. “Nikopheros. You three have been chosen to join the Spartan army under King Leonidas’s command. They are marching north to defend against the Persian invaders. You are soldiers of Sparta now. Make sure you deserve it.” Archelaus turned and marched off, leaving the three boys to say their goodbyes.

          Andronicus saw Lycus and Niko embrace, smiling ear to ear. He turned around and saw Thymi and Androcles standing together with Theodotus behind them. Thymi looked nervous, relieved, happy, and sad all at once, though he still looked like he might vomit. Androcles just looked scared.

          “Don’t worry, Droc,” Andronicus said, calling his brother by the nickname only he used as he gripped him by the shoulders. “Thymi will watch out for you, and you have Theodotus as well.”

          “I’m not worried about me, Dron,” Androcles replied with a worried frown. “You’re going to war.”

          “This is what I wanted, what I’ve always wanted,” Andronicus said happily, clapping Androcles on the back. “I’m finally going to war, just like Father.”

          “Father died,” Androcles said angrily, shrugging Andronicus’s hand off his shoulder. “He died fighting the same people you’re going to fight. They say this Persian king has a host of over one hundred thousand men. King Leonidas is leading a host of just five thousand. You may think you’re a great warrior like Father, but you’re not ready, Dron.” Andronicus felt hurt and angry at his little brother’s doubts in him and in their king.

          “Andronicus is the best fighter any of us have ever seen,” Thymi said, trying to reassure Androcles but sounding a bit unsure himself. “Besides, it’s not like they’re going to put him at the front of the vanguard. He’ll be safe.”

          “Even if they do,” Andronicus added quickly, “I’ll be fine. I’ll be with King Leonidas’s personal guard, the best fighters in the world. And I’ll have Lycus and Niko to watch my back. I’ll be fine.” Androcles looked none too convinced.

          “Just promise me you won’t try to be a hero,” Androcles said, a worried look on his face. “You don’t need to go charging into battle. Stand by the men next to you, and remember your lessons.”

          “All of your lessons,” Thymi added quickly. “Philander’s as well as Archelaus’s.”

          “Be careful, brother,” Androcles said solemnly before Andronicus could respond. “I need you to be there with me when I see my first battle.”

Andronicus smiled and hugged Androcles, then Thymi. Andronicus stepped back and took one last look at his closest friends. Thymi gave him a reassuring grin, but Androcles just stared at him, fear and sadness etched across his face. Andronicus tried to give him a reassuring smile, like Thymi’s, but knew his fell short. Then he turned and walked over to the gate. Lycus and Niko were already waiting anxiously, knowing Archelaus would return any minute.

While waiting, Andronicus felt an odd sense of loneliness, even though he was going with Lycus and Niko. Just before they left, Andronicus gazed around at the courtyard in which he had spent the last ten years training. He felt a cold assurance that, for better or worse, his days of training there were done.

                                                            3

An hour later, Andronicus, Lycus, and Niko were on the road, riding behind Archelaus. They were heading north to join Leonidas’s army. Archelaus had come with them, but only until they found other soldiers going north. Leaving the city gave Andronicus an odd feeling. There was no crowd, no ceremonious procession as they marched off to war. They simply rode out of the city unnoticed, under the archway of Hermes, and down the old dirt road. The Greek army was amassing just west of the pass at Thermopylae, and Archelaus told them they would need to make the journey in less than two weeks.

The three young men and Archelaus set out from the city just after dawn and were well out of its sight by dusk. They had each been given a horse from the stables to take with them, free of charge, as they were riding off to fight for the king. The only things they had with them were a water bag, a bedroll, a small pan to cook in, a six-inch knife, and a sword and scabbard at their side. The swords were not particularly well made, but Andronicus knew he could kill with it.

Archelaus rode with them for a day and a half. On the second day, they met a small group from Tagea who were also heading north to join the army. Archelaus spoke with their commander and then came over to the boys.

“You’re going to ride with these men for the rest of the way,” he said. “They will make sure you’re looked after.”

Suddenly, Andronicus felt afraid. He had known Archelaus wasn’t going to fight alongside them, but he wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. All the confidence he had felt a moment ago seemed to be hanging by a single thread.

“You’ll be okay,” Archelaus said softly, as if he had read Andronicus’s thoughts. Andronicus had never heard Archelaus sound that way before, and it made him feel even more afraid. “Just stick together, stay out of the front, and you’ll be fine. You boys are three of the best fighters I have ever taught. You will become true Spartan warriors.”

Lycus nodded slowly, looking uneasy. Niko looked like he was going to cry. Archelaus nodded to them, and they turned to join the new group. Andronicus began to turn as well, but Archelaus took him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

“Watch out for them, Andronicus,” Archelaus whispered. “They need you.”

With that Archelaus was gone, riding back the way they had come. Andronicus watched him go, not feeling at all like a soldier, then went to join the others.

None of the Tageans said so much as a word to them. Andronicus knew they were on their own now and that his friends would be looking to him for reassurance. Andronicus took a deep breath and tried to look as confident and commanding as he could, but he still felt afraid.

When their new group began riding again, they fell in at the back of the procession, trying not to look at any of the angry-looking men riding beside them.

                                                  4

They rode for a week and a half before they reached King Leonidas’s army. They joined many other groups as they rode, so that when they finally arrived, they were riding with nearly two hundred men. They had become a small army from over a dozen cities and provinces and kept mostly in tight-knit bunches. A Tagean man had taken command of the group less than a week into the ride. He was tall and loud, and no one else seemed to want to challenge his rule.

The boys quickly found out they were the youngest riders in the group. Most of the men treated them like dogs because of it, even though they were Spartans. They were the last to eat at every meal, and they were forced to lay their bedrolls on the farthest side of the camp, where they would be the first victims of an ambush. Thankfully, no ambush came.

Andronicus was riding beside Lycus and Niko in the back of a long line of riders when he first saw the large encamped army. They were riding up a hill, and when they reached the top, they saw a vast sea of tents and fires spread out in the valley beneath them. The boys gazed in wonder at the army below as they began to tread down into the valley. Andronicus had never seen so many people in his entire life. He remembered hearing that the Persians had one hundred thousand men. As he gazed at the many Greek tents and fires, he was sure there were more than that in the Greek army.

When they reached the bottom of the hill, they were greeted by a man wearing a gold breastplate and helm and a red cloak over his shoulders. He had a fierceness about him that none of the other men they had encountered had, and Andronicus knew at once that this man was a Spartan.

“Who are you?” the man demanded in a gruff, impatient tone. “Where did you come from?”

“We are new recruits from Sparta,” Andronicus said, riding forward and bowing his head.

“Are you Archelaus’s new boys?” the man asked, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“Yes, sir,” Andronicus answered, raising his head to meet the man’s eye. “Archelaus rode with us until we joined the Tageans. Then he returned to Sparta.” The man nodded curtly, looking Andronicus over.

“How many are you?” he asked, turning to the others.

“Three, sir,” Andronicus answered apprehensively.

“Only three?” the man bellowed. He turned away in anger for a moment, then turned back to Andronicus. “Well, then I suppose you’re the ones he knows can handle themselves,” he said with a sigh.

“Yes, sir,” Lycus said, looking proud.

“Good,” the man grunted. “Go to the back of the camp. When you find the men with red cloaks, ask for Perikles. He will be your captain.”

With that the man turned away and went to meet the next group coming in. The boys followed his instructions, riding through the massive camp, all the way to the back. They passed the tents of men from nearly every Greek city that Andronicus knew of. They passed tents of Corinthians and Mantineans, Thespians and Thebans from the Peloponnese, Arcadians and Phlians. There were a great number of tents from Lacedaemon as well, the Spartans’ kin. Andronicus noted as they rode that there were no Athenian tents among the army.

Finally, they came upon the men they had been told about. In the back of the camp, closest to the stream, was a cluster of large tents. The men standing in front of them wore thick red cloaks. The boys dismounted and walked over to the tents, not looking directly at any of the fierce men glowering at them.

“Who in Ares’ name are you?” a rough-looking man with a thick beard barked as he approached them.

“We’re the new recruits,” Andronicus said, trying not to sound like the little boy he felt like. “Archelaus sent us. We were told to report to Perikles.” The bearded man glared at them for a moment, as if he wanted to swat them away like gnats. Then he turned and stormed off, leaving them standing there.

The two men left watching them were both tall and fierce looking. One had a dark scar running across his entire face, and the other had his arms crossed menacingly, showing the biggest forearms Andronicus had ever seen. Andronicus stood there with Lycus and Niko, feeling like a foolish child next to these men.

He had thought he was ready; he had felt ready for this for months, years even. But now, seeing the brutish warriors that made up the king’s guard, he felt like a little boy. He turned to his right and saw Lycus and Niko looking exactly as he felt.

“You!” a voice shouted, snapping Andronicus out of his thoughts. “Are you Archelaus’s lot?” The man striding toward them looked every bit as fierce as the others, but Andronicus saw kindness in his eyes as well. The man was tall and strong and had scars covering his arms and one across his left cheek, but his eyes said that he was a friend.

“Yes,” Andronicus said nervously as the man approached.

“I am Perikles, your new captain,” he said sternly. “And your names?”

“I am Andronicus, and this is Lycus and Nikopheros,” Andronicus said, introducing the others. Perikles nodded curtly and then turned and walked off. They hurried after him. Perikles led them through the Spartans’ camp to what appeared to be a blacksmith’s tent.

“Karpos,” Perikles called to a thin man sitting at a sharpening stone, “these are Archelaus’s new boys. See that they are taken care of.” Karpos sneered up at them from his seat with a mean, narrow face. He slowly got to his feet, dusting off his filthy jerkin, and stepped toward them.

“Let me see your blades,” he said in a high, wheezy voice. Andronicus thought the man sounded the way a dog would sound if it could talk. He brought out his sword carefully, and Lycus and Niko did the same. Karpos took one look at their swords, then spat on them.

“Disgraceful,” he said as he turned and went into the tent. A moment later he emerged carrying freshly forged swords, breastplates, and helmets, all jumbled together in his thin arms. He dropped the lot onto the table beside his stone.

The boys didn’t even wait for permission; they dove right in. Andronicus picked up one of the fine bronze helmets first and held it up, looking at the perfect red plume on top. The sun reflected off the bronze, giving it a powerful look. Andronicus quickly put it on his head and then reached for the sword. Niko already had his breastplate strapped on, and Lycus was swinging his new sword about excitedly. Andronicus picked up his new sword and turned to Lycus.

He was about to challenge him when he saw the men standing around staring at them. Andronicus realized then how foolish they must look, a bunch of children getting to play at being soldiers. Andronicus set the sword down and quickly took the helmet off. Lycus seemed to notice the men staring as well because he stopped swinging the sword and walked back over to the table, his face bright red. They gathered their new belongings quickly and quietly, with Karpos and half a dozen other men eyeing them coldly, then returned to Perikles.

“Good,” Perikles said when he saw they had their new armor. “Now there’s one last thing you need before you can fight as a Spartan.” Andronicus felt chills go down his spine; he knew exactly what it was. He had been waiting for the day he would receive his own Spartan cloak since the day he had watched his mother receive his father’s cloak after his death. He had stopped and looked at that old cloak every single time he had been home since that day.

Perikles turned, and ducked into another tent, then reappeared a moment later with three bright red cloaks in his arms.

“Do you know why our cloaks are red?” Perikles asked as he walked over to them.

“So that when we use it to bind our wounds, our enemies cannot see our blood,” Andronicus answered, just before Lycus.

“That is correct.” Perikles nodded slowly as he handed out the cloaks. “When you see a Spartan whose cloak has grown short, you know he has seen many battles.”

“Or he was very bad in one,” Niko joked, then realized who he had said it to, but Perikles let out a long, hearty laugh.

“You boys wait here,” he said, pointing to the tent he had just come out of. “And be ready for the call of battle. This is your tent. You will share it with Gaios, Diokles, and me. Welcome to King Leonidas’s army, boys.” Perikles let out a much more menacing laugh as he walked away. Andronicus glanced at Lycus and Niko and then entered the tent.

It was smaller inside than it had looked outside, and they were rather cramped by the time they had finally settled in. Gaios and Diokles were apparently elsewhere, so the boys returned to admiring their new armor and swords in the privacy of their tent.

                                                  5

Later that night Perikles led them to a large fire with a roasting boar above it. Men were sitting in small groups around the fire. Perikles led them to two men sitting close to the pig. They sat down on logs and rocks in a small circle. Perikles introduced the two men as Gaios and Diokles.

Gaios was tall and lean, and had a gaunt, wrinkled face and solemn eyes. He looked old, even though Andronicus could tell the man was no more than forty. He also looked oddly familiar, but Andronicus could not think of where he had seen him before.

Diokles was short, bald, and powerfully muscular. He had a thick black beard and an intense, menacing look about him. Andronicus pitied any man who had to face Diokles in battle. He looked down and noticed that Diokles was missing his little finger on his left hand. Then he saw that the bottom foot of his cloak was gone.

“So, you boys are the best Archelaus has to offer then?” Diokles goaded in a deep, scratchy voice.

“We are,” Lycus answered defensively. Perikles chuckled as he cut a piece of meat from the boar’s back. Lycus shot a nasty look at him, and Perikles stopped laughing.

“You think yourself a fighter then, boy?” Perikles asked in a joking tone.

“I do,” Lycus said proudly, rising to his feet.

“And you think that means you’re a killer, do you?” Diokles asked seriously.

“I am a killer,” Lycus answered coldly. Perikles and Diokles both burst into laughter, but Gaios just frowned.

“And what have you ever killed?” Diokles managed to ask through his laughter. Lycus’s face turned red as he realized his error.

“I killed a wolf when I was twelve,” he proclaimed proudly, “and I have killed deer and rabbits.” He tried to continue but was interrupted by a bellow from Diokles. The man sprayed pieces of chewed meat across the dirt as he roared with laughter.

“Killing a man is not the same as killing a beast,” Gaios said quietly, “not even a wolf.” Andronicus could barely hear him over Diokles’s guffawing. Lycus scowled at Gaios, his face still red. Niko looked down at his feet, trying not to take a side, but Andronicus stared intently at Gaios. There was something eerily familiar about the man, something that fascinated Andronicus.

“It is not as if we will be killing Greek men,” Andronicus said to Gaios, trying to defend his friend. “The Persians are beasts. Killing them will be no different than killing a wolf.”

“You speak as though you hate the Persians,” Perikles said as he took a bite of pork, “What have they ever done to you, boy?”

“They killed my father,” Andronicus said gravely. All the laughter died down then. “In Darius’s invasion ten years ago.”

“Your father fought at Marathon?” Perikles asked seriously. Andronicus nodded slowly.

“What was his name?” Diokles asked. All the humor had left his face.

“Aristocles,” Andronicus answered, wondering if these men had known his father.

“You’re Aristocles’s boy?” Gaios said, lifting his eyes from the fire. Then he nodded. “Yes, you look like him.” He had a somber look on his face. Andronicus nodded again. All three men seemed to look at him differently now.

“Your father was one of the greatest fighters I have ever seen,” Perikles said. Andronicus felt a sort of rush knowing that these men had not only known but also admired his father.

“Your father saved my life once,” Gaios said, looking him dead in the eye as if studying his face. Andronicus didn’t know how to respond. He met the man’s eye and gave a small nod. Gaios stared at him a moment longer, then nodded and returned to eating his meat and staring into the fire.

“And what about you two?” Perikles asked Lycus and Niko. “Either of your fathers fight against the Persians?” Niko shook his head abashedly, but Lycus quickly perked up.

“My father was Lycurgus, son of Lycius,” Lycus said with his chest puffed out. “He fought against the Persians at Marathon as well.”

“Lycurgus,” Diokles said with a dark expression, “never heard of him.” Lycus glared at the man as he ripped a piece of meat off the bone with his teeth.

“I knew him,” Gaios said placidly. Lycus looked eagerly at him, as if he expected him to say his father had saved his life too. Gaios didn’t say anything more; he simply chewed his meat and stared into the fire.

“My father was a great warrior as well,” Lycus insisted. Gaios looked at Lycus. Andronicus couldn’t tell what Gaios was thinking. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he simply turned back to the flames. Lycus looked like he was about to press the matter, but Andronicus interceded.

“When will the Persians land?” he asked, hoping Lycus would allow the change of topic.

“We don’t know,” Perikles said as he chewed his meat. “Could be any time now. It shouldn’t be more than a week at most.” The boys took this in silently, each of them contemplating the war they were now facing. Lycus left the matter of their fathers to rest, and they all ate in silence for a while, listening to the crackling fire and the men around them.

When they were done eating, they returned to the small tent that was meant to house the six of them. The older men got in first, taking their positions in the back of the tent, and the boys were left to cram themselves together in the corner. That first night Andronicus wasn’t able to sleep a wink. All he could think about was his father and fighting the men who had killed him.

Chapter 5

The Battle of Thermopylae

                                                            1

          The horns of war first blew on the morning of August 12, 480 bc. Andronicus and his friends dressed as quickly as possible, strapping on their shiny new armor as the horns blared outside their tent. Andronicus picked up his red cloak and held it in his hands for a moment, staring at it. He couldn’t help but think of his father’s old cloak, which still hung on his mother’s wall.

The horn blew again, snapping him back to reality, and he swung the cloak over his shoulders. He strapped on his new sword in its thin leather scabbard, then picked up his lance and shield. Finally, he donned the great bronze helmet and stood, dressed for battle.

          They left the tent and joined Diokles and Gaios outside. Perikles came around the corner a moment later and hailed them all into line. The group ran through the mud to join the rest of the Spartan hoplites. They ran past men from every city until they reached the mass of red cloaks that had formed at the head of the camp. Andronicus felt small and foolish as he fell in line with the fierce men next to him.

          He was standing in line, waiting nervously, when another horn rang out. A man came riding forward on the back of a great black horse, and everyone fell silent. The man looked fierce and weathered in equal measure. He had a thick black beard, but it was spotted with patches of grey. Andronicus had never seen him before, but he knew right away that it was the king.

          Leonidas rode forward gracefully, every eye watching him as he went. Andronicus thought he looked every bit the great king he had imagined him to be. He held his head high as he met his armed guard, of which Andronicus was now a member. Leonidas looked out over his army solemnly as they waited silently for his word.

          “Men!” Leonidas shouted (he even sounded a king). “Xerxes has returned to our shores,” Leonidas said in a rough, deep voice that carried across the camp with ease, “with an army of savages at his back. He thinks his numbers will win him this war.” Leonidas’s voice grew more powerful with every word. Andronicus felt himself filling with confidence and pride, and he could see and feel the men around him felt the same.

“But he has yet to go to war with Sparta!” Leonidas shouted over the roaring men. “Look around you!” Leonidas bellowed. Andronicus looked to his right. Lycus and Niko were both staring awestruck at the mighty king. He turned to his left and saw Diokles and Perikles roaring wildly and pounding their shields. Gaios was standing next to Diokles, staring solemnly at the king. Again Andronicus was struck with how different Gaios was from the others.

          “We are Spartans!” Leonidas shouted. An earth-shaking roar erupted from the men. Andronicus thought that the Persians would surely hear them. “We are the greatest fighters the world has ever known,” the king continued. “Xerxes thinks his slaves will win his war, but the Persians fight out of fear, fear of their masters, the beasts that drive them to war. We fight for honor, for freedom, for Greece itself!” The vast army erupted into booming cheers again. The king’s voice was drowned out for a moment by the thundering of five thousand spears pounding against five thousand shields.

          “Set aside your differences,” Leonidas continued, turning to the rest of the army. “Our cities have fought each other for a thousand years, but every man here is Greek. And every true Greek man would be damned before he let a Persian horde into his country.” Again the army broke into uproar. Spears banged against shields and against the ground. Men bellowed war cries. The ground itself trembled under their thunderous clamor.

          Andronicus had never felt so invigorated. It didn’t matter how many men the Persians had; he knew they would beat them. Every man there knew they would beat them. How could they not, with a king as fierce as Leonidas?

                                        2

          The army marched east to the small mountain pass of Thermopylae. The Spartans rode at the head of the long column, Andronicus and his friends among them and King Leonidas at the very front. The rest of the Greek soldiers from the other cities marched behind the mounted Spartans. Perikles rode next to the boys, as did Gaios and Diokles; they had seemingly taken the boys under their wing.

          About an hour into their ride, the king fell back next to Perikles. Andronicus couldn’t help but stare at the powerful man. He looked as bold and ferocious as any man among them, and yet he also looked old and wise. Up close the grey in his hair was much more pronounced, and the wrinkles in his weathered face stood out clearly. His brown eyes looked like they had lived well beyond their years.

          “Are these the new recruits?” the king asked, nodding toward the boys.

          “Aye, my king. Archelaus picked them himself,” Perikles answered courteously.

          “You, boy,” Leonidas looked right at Andronicus. For a moment he couldn’t say anything; he just stared at the king, dumbfounded. “I know your face. Who is your father?”

          “My name is Andronicus, my king,” Andronicus tried not to let his voice tremble as he spoke. “My father was Aristocles.” King Leonidas stopped his horse abruptly. The others around them also stopped, and then the entire army. The whole Greek army stood still, waiting for the king as he stared at Andronicus.

          “You are Aristocles’s boy, the older one?” Leonidas looked at Andronicus with a fierce concentration.

          “Yes, my king,” Andronicus said meekly, bowing his head, “he died fighting the—”

          “I know how he died,” Leonidas cut him off, staring intently at Andronicus. “I was there.” For a moment Andronicus didn’t know what to say. He felt both excited and nervous. He had never actually heard how his father died, just that he died fighting the Persians at Marathon.

“Your father was one of the bravest men I have ever known,” Leonidas said. Then he turned forward and began riding again, and the entire host quickly followed suit. Andronicus wanted to hear more, but he was afraid to ask.

          “What about the rest of you?” the king asked casually to Lycus and Niko, without looking back. “Either of your fathers fight in the wars?”

          “My father fought with you,” Lycus said eagerly. “Lycurgus. He was at the battle of Marathon as well.” The king turned his head and eyed Lycus wearily for a moment.

          “I knew him,” Leonidas said bluntly, then spurred his horse forward, leaving the boys behind. Andronicus glanced over at Lycus as the king rode away, and saw him staring down at his horse with a mixture or anger, shame, and confusion.

                                                            3

          It took them five hours to reach the pass of Thermopylae. When they arrived, Andronicus was amazed. The pass itself was only fifty feet wide. Twenty-five men standing shoulder to shoulder would seal it entirely. The mountains to either side of the pass were steep and rocky, and it was clear no one would be able to climb them. Andronicus could not imagine how two armies could possibly fight in such a tight space.

The Persians were nowhere to be seen when they arrived. It seemed the Greeks had beaten them there by at least half a day. The Spartans dismounted and left their horses about a mile from the pass. The rest of the army was marching on foot, so they were still out of eyesight back down the road.

As the Spartans marched up to the pass, Andronicus noticed an old rock wall blocking the eastern side of the pass from invaders, though it had crumbled over the years. Leonidas ordered the men to begin rebuilding the wall. A second later Perikles was shouting at Andronicus and his friends, putting them to work.

                                                  4

The Spartans, with help from many of the other men as they continued to arrive, had the wall nearly back to its full strength by sundown. Earlier in the day, Niko had pointed out a small goat path behind the wall, leading up the face of the mountain. He asked Perikles about it, and Perikles said that the path was hidden on the other side and that someone could only find it if they knew just where to look, which only the Spartans did.

As the sun approached the horizon, Andronicus looked east, and saw a rider coming straight toward them. For a moment he thought it was a Persian scout, but then he recognized the man as one of the Spartans. He was not wearing his cloak, but Andronicus had seen him in line earlier. The man rode right up to Leonidas and then dismounted. They walked away from the rest of the men, apparently discussing what the scout had seen.

Andronicus stared longingly at them. He was fascinated by what the king might be saying and what battle plans he might be hatching. After several minutes Leonidas nodded to the scout, and the man mounted his horse and rode back toward the Persians. Andronicus watched as Leonidas walked over to where they were resting.

There were hot springs on the western side of the pass, and many of the men had stripped down and were bathing in the warm water. A great number of the Spartan warriors had taken their combs out and were casually flicking their hair. Andronicus and Lycus stared at their kin with a mixture of confusion and fascination. Diokles saw the look on their faces and laughed. “The Persian scouts are coming,” he told them in his rough voice, “We’re letting them know how we fear their great army.”

Andronicus and Lycus joined in Diokles’s laughter as understanding dawned on them. Andronicus had tucked a comb away in his belt; he knew it was customary for Spartan warriors to fix their hair before battle, though he had never been told why. He pulled it out and leaned against the rocks as he flicked his long black hair.

About ten minutes later, just as Diokles had said, a Persian escort came riding up to meet them. The man in front was dressed in luxurious yellow garments and rode on a big white horse. He had long brown robes that looked like they were made of pure silk. He had a black sash across his face and a shining gold necklace. The four men behind him were clearly soldiers. Each of them rode a plain brown horse and wore plain brown robes and had a long, thick sword at their side.

As they approached the Greek army, the man in front removed his sash. His face was a dark brown color that Andronicus had never seen before. He had a thin face with gaunt cheeks, a long nose, and a pointed little goatee. His dark, angry eyes roamed over the lounging men. Andronicus had never seen a Persian before. He had hated them for as long as he could remember, but this was the first one he had ever seen. At first the man looked shocked, and then his shock turned to outrage.

King Leonidas stepped forward. Andronicus noticed no one was standing guard over the king, and that worried him for a moment. The king was completely exposed to the four Persian soldiers.

“I am Leonidas, son of the lion, descendant of Heracles, King of Sparta, and commander of the Greek armies. What have you to say to me?”

Andronicus was truly in awe of the mighty king as the thin man on the white horse glared down at Leonidas in contempt.

“I am here on behalf of Xerxes the Great,” the gaunt man said with an odd accent, “King of Babylon, Emperor of the Great Persian Dynasty, King of Kings. He demands that your army surrender to him immediately.”

“Tell your king of kings that no Spartan will ever surrender to him.”

The men slowly stood up, one by one, many of them still in the water. Andronicus quickly got to his feet as well. The Persian looked around at the men, many of them were still naked.

“If you do not surrender to the great king of kings, you will be killed,” he said, sneering down at Leonidas.

“King of kings be damned!” Leonidas bellowed, causing the Persian horses to retreat several steps away from his powerful roar. “If Xerxes the Great wants Greece, he can damn well try and take it from us.”

“The great king of kings has one million men in his army!” the man shouted, astounded at Leonidas’s gall. “If you do not kneel now, our arrows will blot out the sun, and you will be pierced one thousand times over.”

“Let them come,” Leonidas said with a menacing scowl, “we shall fight in the shade.”

The Persian rider glared down at King Leonidas. A moment earlier Andronicus had feared for the king’s safety. Now he feared the king would cut the five Persians in half before they could ride off. The Persian man seemed to share Andronicus’s fear, because he quickly turned his horse around and rode away. The Spartans laughed boisterously and hailed their brave king as the Persian riders left.

Some of the men returned to the springs, but many of them started strapping on their armor. Andronicus thought of his brother’s last words to him before he left and then quickly joined the men preparing for battle. Lycus and Niko went with him, and they all strapped on their armor in silence.

It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that they caught their first glimpse of the Persian army. As the Persians crested the hill several miles to the north of them, Andronicus was amazed at how many of them there were. The line of soldiers seemed endless. More and more men marched over the horizon, straight toward them.

After ten minutes Andronicus was sure the Persian army covered over a mile. Ten minutes later he had lost nearly every bit of the confidence he had felt that morning. The Persian army was bigger than he would have thought possible. It already stretched over miles, and it showed no sign of stopping. Androcles had been right; the Persian army had to be one hundred thousand strong at least. The vast army marched down into the valley, filling it entirely.

Once the Persian army had filled the entire valley north of the mountain pass, horns began to blow, strange horns that Andronicus had never heard before bellowing from the massive horde. One called out and then another and another, answering each other across the valley. The front of the army started marching forward, and Andronicus prepared himself for the fight he had been anticipating for his entire life.

The small part of the Persian army marching toward them looked like it outnumbered the entire Greek army five to one, and it was still just a small part of the Persians’ entire force. They marched slowly, banging war drums and letting their horns ring out.

The Spartans quickly fell into lines at the heart of the pass, shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, ready to defend against the oncoming army. The Persians stopped abruptly nearly a hundred yards short of them. The entire force halting at once made an impressive and intimidating sound that reverberated off the mountains. A thick silence hung over the Spartans for a moment that felt like a lifetime. Andronicus wondered why the Persians had stopped. They clearly had more men.

“Arrows!” Leonidas bellowed from somewhere to Andronicus’s right. “Shields!” The men quickly got down on their knees, their shields covering their heads and backs. Andronicus knelt as well, Lycus and Niko beside him. They put their shields together, creating a larger shield to cover them all. Andronicus saw Perikles with Gaios and Diokles to his left. They all held like that for a moment longer, waiting. Andronicus could hear the heavy breathing of his friends and see the same fear he felt etched across their faces.

He heard the arrows first, whizzing high above them, and then the ground around them actually turned dark. The Persian rider had not lied; the arrows did blot out the sun. It sounded like nothing Andronicus had heard before, a thick whirring buzz, and then they were upon them. Thousands of arrows fell on them at once. Andronicus felt the pounding of every arrow that crashed against his shield and feared each one would be the one that pierced it and split his arm. But Karpos, it seemed, was a fine blacksmith indeed. None of the shields broke. The arrows splintered against their bronze and fell onto the dirt around them.

Andronicus heard someone cry out and turned to see a man with an arrow sticking out of the back of his calf. He had his eyes shut tight, but he didn’t break his position; no one did. The Spartans held still as the arrows crashed upon them like rain.

The arrows fell for what seemed like an hour, though it was probably only a minute. When the barrage finally let up, voices began shouting to hold, to wait to see if the Persians were done. The men held a moment, looking around at the mass of black arrows sticking out of the dirt around them. Then the ground turned dark again, the whirring returned, and a moment later, the rain began again.

The Persians hit them with four barrages, each over a minute long. Andronicus thought they must have shot a million arrows at them at least, though he could not see a single dead man. Several men had been hit in the legs but none of them fatally. Andronicus’s arms felt like they had taken a bad beating, but he held still; they all did. They held a moment longer until someone shouted that the archers were returning to the greater army.

The men slowly got to their feet, looking up to see the vast army marching back to join their cohort. The Spartans let out a loud war cry that echoed across the valley. Andronicus knew the Persians could hear them now.

“Perhaps they ran out of arrows!” someone shouted from behind Andronicus, and everyone broke into laughter. The Spartans marched back through the field of arrows until they reached their campground south of the pass. Lookouts were posted all along the pass, and the rest of the Spartans set down for the night as the last of the Greeks were arriving and finding their spots.

Andronicus walked slowly back to his horse with Lycus and Niko beside him. None of them spoke; they were all still rattled from seeing the size of the Persian army and getting pounded by hundreds of arrows. Their brand new shields were covered in small dents.

When they reached their horses, they took out their bedrolls and started back toward the front of the camp, where they found Gaios, Diokles, and Perikles. They had rabbits roasting over a fire, and the boys sat down to join them.

“You did well today,” Perikles said to the newcomers.

“Not that you had to do very much,” Diokles pointed out, “Just duck and cover, really. I expect tomorrow you’ll see the real thing.”

“He’s right,” Perikles said seriously. “Sleep well tonight. Tomorrow you’ll need your strength.”

They ate mostly in silence. Andronicus heard a constant buzzing hum coming from the massive Persian army. He tried to count the number of fires burning across the valley and lost count somewhere after two hundred.

After eating, the boys laid down and tried to go to sleep. Andronicus had never had a harder time sleeping in his life. No matter what he tried to think of, his mind found its way back to the size of the Persian army. Every time his mind began down a new path, trying to escape the dark thoughts, the buzzing would wrench him back. He could hear a thousand distant voices speaking in a strange language, shouting war cries, and declaring themselves conquerors in their foreign tongue.

                                                  5

When dawn broke the next day, Andronicus rose with the rest of the men. He had not slept a wink the whole night. His mind had played a thousand games, all ending with a mass of dark-skinned men screaming and throwing themselves on him, stabbing him again and again.

Andronicus looked over at Lycus and Niko and could tell they hadn’t slept either. They both had dark-red orbs under their bloodshot eyes. Andronicus wondered if he looked as bad as them.

“Gods, look at you!” Perikles exclaimed as he walked over to them. “You boys look like hell. I told you to get some sleep.”

“We tried,” Andronicus said in a hoarse voice. “We will be ready.”

Perikles sighed. “Well, go get something to eat. You’ll need your strength today.” The boys went and ate with the other men as the sun rose. Then they went to put on their armor.

Not thirty minutes after dawn, the Greek army stood at attention in the heart of the pass, ready for battle. They waited for the Persians to attack for what seemed like forever before they finally walked back to the springs and rested.

Nearly an hour later, the Persian horns sounded. A massive Persian force began to march toward the pass. The Spartans quickly formed lines again and waited for the attack, but it never came. The Persians stopped far short of the actual pass. They stood there shouting war cries and waving their spears, but they never marched forward.

The Persians did this for nearly an hour before retreating. Andronicus couldn’t understand why they had not attacked; their army was bigger than a city. He couldn’t fathom how many men it actually was, millions if he had to guess. It looked like more men than he knew existed.

The Greeks waited all day for the Persians to attack, but they never did. They marched forward several times, showing off different legions of their army, but never pressed the attack.

When night fell the Spartans went back to their place behind the rocks, leaving several men on watch, and ate their supper in a joyous mood. That night Andronicus fell asleep like a baby. He still feared the massive Persian force, but now he believed they feared the Greeks as well.

                                                  6

The attack didn’t come until the fifth day. The Persians spent four days showing their legions off one by one. Finally they seemed to realize the Greeks were not going to bow down in fear. Andronicus watched with the others as two massive forces started marching across the valley toward them.

The Spartans quickly formed lines across the narrowest part of the pass, next to the wall. The other Greek armies lay ready and waiting behind them.

At first Andronicus thought the Persians were just going to march out and stop, as all the others had done, but when they pressed far past the point the others had all stopped at, he knew the time had finally come.

Andronicus stood in the second wave of the Spartan defense; they would take the front when the first line tired. Lycus stood to his left and Diokles to his right, with Niko and Gaios standing behind them holding long spears. Andronicus could not see King Leonidas, but knew he was not far to their right.

“Medes and Cissians!” a voice shouted out from somewhere in the front. “Xerxes does not even honor us with his best fighters.”

“If any man falls to these scum, I’ll piss on his grave!” a voice shouted from Andronicus’s left.

Andronicus watched the two armies march toward them with cold sweat running down the back of his neck. He was confident in his Spartan brethren, and he knew they had a clear tactical advantage, but the opposing army was still imposingly large. For a moment he held out hope that the armies would stop to taunt them once again, only from much closer this time. He felt his heart speeding up so much he feared it would start to make a noise as it banged against his breastplate.

When the Persians were less than a hundred feet away, they broke into a run. Thousands of screaming men raced toward them, swinging swords over their heads, and for a moment Andronicus remembered his waking dream from the first night. Fear filled him for a moment as the brown mass of soldiers drew nearer.

Then the Spartan war drums started pounding, the old drums he had trained to his whole life. As they banged louder and louder, Andronicus remembered his brother and his father. He remembered the many lessons from Archelaus and Philander. And he remembered the words of bold King Leonidas.

Andronicus planted his feet in the dirt and looked over at Lycus. Their eyes met for a moment, and Andronicus felt his confidence return. He took a deep breath as the screaming invaders closed the last few feet between them.

Then the Persians were on them at last. Their sprinting bodies crashed violently against the line of Spartan shields. Feeling the men in front of him getting pushed back into him, Andronicus planted his feet more firmly. The entire Spartan line pushed forward, resisting the force of the Persian horde.

Andronicus lost all sense of things for a moment. Drums pounded behind him, and horns bellowed before him. All around him a thousand men were screaming. He heard the Persians crying out in their foreign language. He couldn’t understand the words, but he knew what they were saying. They were praying to their gods. Begging for their lives.

Andronicus watched, with his feet planted and his weight against the man in front of him, as the Mede and Cissian slaves crashed against their line. Spears flung forward all around him, ripping through Persian flesh. Many of the spears pierced the attackers’ chests, and some even sank into their faces, tearing them away.

Andronicus had seen a thousand animals killed and gutted; he had done many of the deeds himself. He had hated these men since he was a child. He had waited his entire life for this moment. And yet now as he watched them being shoved forward, screaming helplessly until a spear ended their cries, he felt sick. These men were not the monsters he had thought them to be. He saw fear in their eyes. They didn’t want to be there any more than he did, far less, in fact. Andronicus remembered the king saying the Persians were driven to war out of fear of their masters, and now he believed it.

Then it was suddenly his time to take the front. The Spartan lines slowly started swapping spots, keeping their shields firmly planted against the tide of Persians. Andronicus slipped between Lycus and the man falling back and fell hard against the shield in front of him. Instantly, he felt the weight of the Persian mass pushing him into the ground.

He pushed forward and felt something move under his foot. He looked down and saw a brown face covered in blood. There was a long red gash in the side of the bloody head, but its eyes were still open. They stared up at Andronicus, frozen with the terror they had died in. He yanked his foot back and planted it in the dirt.

As he held there, pushing against the shield, surrounded by the crashing of metal on metal, the banging of drums, and the foreign screams of dying men, he caught his first scent of it. At first it just smelled like flesh and dirt and sweat. Then he realized it was shit too. The dying men were defecating themselves as they screamed their way into death. Andronicus felt his stomach roll over, but he managed to keep from vomiting.

He looked up and saw Diokles shouting something down at him. He couldn’t hear a word of it; all he could hear were drums and screams. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and when he opened them, he felt the world come crashing back.

“Use your damned spear, boy!” Diokles shouted. Andronicus looked up and realized the men crashing against his shield were swinging swords at him, and he was holding up the line. Without thinking, Andronicus raised his spear and thrust it forward. He felt the resistance of flesh as he drove his spear into an oncoming Persian. Andronicus heard the man let out a strangled cry as the blade plunged into his chest. He looked up and saw the man’s eyes rolling madly as he died. They looked wild and scared, like a horse in a panic.

Andronicus jerked his spear back and watched the man collapse to the ground, dead, a thick red stain spreading down his body. He plunged the spear forward again, this time catching a man just above his collarbone. Blood gushed out of the man’s neck as Andronicus wrenched his spear free.

He lost all sense of things then. Space and time mingled into a blind mass all around him. He had no idea how long he held the line or how many men he killed. He lost himself completely in the heat of battle. His arm thrust forward again and again, ending life after life. He knew that at some point he saw Lycus out of the corner of his eye, shouting wildly as he wrenched his spear free of a dead man’s chest, but then it was back to the madness. He could neither see nor hear. The world had become a bottomless pit of whirring blackness, an endless tide of death and blood and drums, and under it all, the terrible wailing of the dying men.

It took Niko hammering on his back to bring him back to reality. Andronicus looked around and saw that the lines were swapping again. He stepped back, trying to keep the shield steady. As he stepped back, one of the Thespians took his spot. Once his weight was off the shield, he felt his legs turn to jelly.

Andronicus stumbled away from the battle like a drunkard. As soon as he was far enough away from the line, he dropped his spear, letting it clang against the rocks. He fell to his knees, cutting them both without noticing, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. He looked over and saw Lycus sitting on a rock a few feet away, a dazed look on his pale face. Niko was behind him, retching into the dirt.

“The smell of it,” Niko said when he was done, standing up and wiping his mouth.

“Don’t,” Andronicus said, clenching his eyes tight, trying his best not to vomit as well.

“Their eyes,” Lycus said softly. Andronicus could barely hear him over the racket behind them. “Did you see their eyes?”

“I saw them,” Andronicus replied, still trying to stop his stomach from turning over.

“They were like cattle,” Niko said as he sat down next to Lycus. “Did you see the ones in the back being whipped?”

“No,” Andronicus answered dolefully as he stared down at the dirt. “I didn’t see that.”

“Oy!” a voice shouted behind them, snapping them out of their trance. Andronicus reached for his spear, but his hand fumbled and sent it rolling away. He heard the clanging of metal as Niko dropped his helmet. Lycus jumped to his feet and tried to draw his sword, but it caught in his scabbard.

“What in Ares’ name do you think you’re doing?” Diokles stood over them menacingly, his sword in his hand. Andronicus noticed both of his massive arms were covered to the elbows in blood, and there were splashes of blood across his face. “The battle is not over. Xerxes is going to send a second wave. Get off your asses.”

Andronicus staggered to his feet, fumbling with his helmet. When he looked back toward the battle, he saw that the Persians were retreating. Now he could see the men with the whips. They lashed at every man they could as the army fell back. In the distance, on a large platform across the valley, Andronicus saw King Xerxes. He was standing in front of his huge golden throne, shouting at the men around him.

As the Medes fell back into the Persian camp, surely to be whipped or killed for their insolence in surrender, the second Persian force began marching forward. Instantly, Andronicus could tell these men were different. As they got closer, marching in perfect formation, Andronicus saw their grandiose attire.

Each man wore ornate blue-and-gold robes with blue headdresses covering most of their faces. They each carried a small wicker shield in one hand and a short spear in the other. A long, curved sword hung at each of their sides and a dirk behind their backs. They also had bows and quivers slung across their left shoulders.

The Spartans retook their original positions next to the wall as the new force marched across the pass.

“The Persians’ elite!” Leonidas shouted. “Now Xerxes honors us with his best warriors. We should return the favor in kind!” A fierce roar greeted the king’s words.

 Andronicus looked around and was astounded at the Spartan men beside him. They looked truly hungry for battle. Every spear tip Andronicus could see was soaked in blood, and many of the men themselves had blood splashed across their faces.

The men marching toward them looked like an imposing force. They had the reputation and the title, but they paled in comparison to the Spartans’ ferocity. Some of the Persians stepped forward out of line and twirled their short spears around their arms and torso, showing off their skill. Andronicus saw the confidence on their faces as they marched.

As the Persian elites closed the distance between the two armies, Andronicus saw a few of the men in the front of the Persian line suddenly realize their folly. The Persian elites were renowned for their skill in combat. It was said that they had never truly lost a battle. But one look at the Spartan line waiting for them, and it was certain. The Spartans looked like bloodthirsty savages, fierce, hard, scarred bulls of men soaked in the blood of their enemies, and the Persians looked like fancy noblemen playing at war.

It was the eyes of the men standing beside him that Andronicus would remember. The Spartans looked like they truly wanted to kill the Persians, and not just kill them but maim and butcher them. Andronicus had thought he wanted to kill Persians, and in a childish sort of way he had, but not like the men he stood beside now. These men truly desired nothing more than to slaughter their enemies.

Andronicus watched with a sick feeling as the Persian elites came closer. The Medes had been scared of their masters and the Spartans. The elites looked not afraid in the least, except for a few in the front. They marched slowly and confidently, smirks on many of their faces. Andronicus knew what was going to happen though, even if they did not.

A dozen or so Spartans leapt over the stone wall that had been rebuilt, and charged at the elites, taking them by surprise. The few Persians that had been twirling their spears ran forward to meet the Spartans. The Spartans slaughtered the first attackers in mere seconds. Every Persian who charged was cut down with ease. Then the entire Persian line pressed forward. The dozen Spartans turned and ran back toward the sturdy line of their kin. Many of the men in the front of the Persian line ran forward with spears raised, breaking their own line in their eagerness to kill the retreating Spartans.

Then the long spears were thrust. The elites in front all fell as the Spartan line pushed forward. A split second later, the two lines met. The Persians fell against the Spartan shields, forced into them by the men behind them.

Once caught in the tight pass with the wall of fierce Spartans, the elite warriors fared no better than the slaves. They crashed against the shields and attempted to stab at the Spartans behind them. The Spartans, however, held the advantage. The men in front held the line, ducking down low to avoid the short spears, and the second line used their long spears to outreach the enemy.

Andronicus watched with a mixture of fascination and revulsion as the Spartans cut through the Persian elites. He had a long spear this time and would stand behind Niko and Diokles when their time came.

When it was his turn again, they stepped forward and swapped places with the first line, just as they had before.

Andronicus looked at the faces of the men leaving. Each one was covered in splashes of blood. Most of them looked nearly mad, a menacing mixture of triumph and hate etched under their bloody masks.

Then it was time. Andronicus saw Niko pushing against the shield in front of him, and he knew what he had to do.

Andronicus aimed his spear, ready to strike, and met the eyes of the Persian man stabbing at Niko. He had the same dark skin as the rest of them and a thick black beard under his headdress. Andronicus saw hate in the man’s eyes. This was who he had come to fight. This man was the evil monster he had always dreamt the Persians to be. This was one of the men who had killed his father.

Andronicus thrust his spear forward as hard as he could. He watched as the blade sank into the man’s chest. When he wrenched his spear free, a spout of blood poured down over Niko’s head. Andronicus thrust his spear forward again, plunging it into another chest. He watched again and again as his spear pierced the Persians’ unarmored bodies. After a while he realized it was far easier to yank his spear free of their necks than their chests, and he began aiming there.

Again Andronicus fell into a kind of stupor, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, though not as badly as before. During the first wave he had been pressed against a shield, his head down, his arm stabbing blindly. This time he faced his enemy on his feet and watched them each die. The sound became much the same as before, a deafening whir of drums and horns and cries, both in triumph and dismay. At one point Andronicus was sure he heard someone singing over the racket, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Sometime later a man came up behind him and shouted that it was time to switch. Andronicus banged Niko and Diokles on the back and then fell back himself. The lines swapped seamlessly, and then they were free again. Andronicus plodded away from the battle, his ears still ringing loudly.

They fell back a ways and then turned to watch the fighting. Diokles was still holding the line, refusing to give up his spot, but Gaios sat down next to them, staring dejectedly at the slaughter before him. Andronicus turned to see Niko absolutely covered in blood. Lycus had blood splashed across his face and forearms, but Niko was drenched and looked like he might be sick again.

The battle lasted another twenty minutes, the Persian elites being massacred as they tried hopelessly to break the Greek line. Finally, they began to fall back. Again Andronicus saw the Great King Xerxes on his feet, shouting furiously at everyone around him. When the elites rejoined the mass army, no new legion marched forward. It seemed that the great king of kings had had enough for one day.

The Spartans and other Greeks let their war cries be heard by the retreating Persians. They shouted and banged on their shields before finally returning to the Greek camp. Andronicus and his friends tramped over to the hot springs and began washing the blood off their faces and arms. Many of the other men had the same idea, and soon the entire pool had an ominous crimson hue.

                                                  7

When they had the blood washed from their faces and arms and fresh clothes on, the boys walked over to where the fires were burning. They found Diokles, Gaios, and Perikles sitting around a fire, and they sat down slowly, wincing at the aches and pains they felt throughout their bodies. Andronicus never would have guessed actual war would be so much more physically demanding than training.

“You fought well today, boys,” Perikles said proudly. “You are truly Spartan warriors now.” Andronicus couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at that.

“Aye,” Diokles slurred drunkenly. Andronicus noticed he had a nearly empty wine pouch in his hand. “You did. Even you, boy.” He pointed at Lycus, eyeing him coldly. “We all thought you would be a coward like your father, but you stood true.”

Andronicus saw the anger on Lycus’s face and knew he was about to do something stupid. Andronicus had heard whispers about Lycus’s father before but nothing so direct as that.

“Take that back,” Lycus demanded, jumping to his feet.

“Take what back?” Diokles asked, “I gave you a bloody compliment, boy.”

“My father was not a coward,” Lycus growled. “He died fighting for Sparta.”

“He died as he lived,” Diokles spat, “a craven fool with love for no one but himself.” Lycus looked like he was going to step forward, but Niko grabbed him by the arm.

“He’s drunk, Lycus,” Niko whispered. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying.” Lycus glared at Diokles a moment longer before storming off. Niko hurried after him. Andronicus stayed where he was, picking at the remainders of his charred coney. Diokles began shouting about how Lycus was being ungrateful, and Perikles quickly took him away. Only Gaios and Andronicus remained by the fire.

“He wasn’t really a coward, was he?” Andronicus asked. “Lycus’s father. I mean?” Gaios just continued to stare into the fire, like he always did.

“It is not my place to call a man craven,” Gaios replied solemnly. “I’ve felt fear every single time I’ve gone into battle. Perhaps that makes me a coward.”

“But why did Diokles say that?” Andronicus urged. “And why did the king look at Lycus like that when he told him his father’s name?”

Gaios sighed. “It is better left in the past. Lycurgus has been dead for ten years, as has your father, and all the rest.”

“What do you mean ‘the rest’? What happened at Marathon? How did my father die?” Andronicus leaned forward, his face anxious.

“It is not my place to say,” Gaios said, turning away.

“But you were there,” Andronicus insisted. “You know what happened. I need to know. How did it happen? How did my father die?”

“Your father died fighting the Persians at Marathon,” Gaios snapped. “He died a hero, saving others, and that is all you need to know.” Andronicus had never seen Gaios angry before. Gaios also stormed off, leaving Andronicus alone by the fire.

Coming here had brought up questions Andronicus never even knew he needed answers to. He had always accepted that his father had died in battle. Now he felt like he had to know more. Something had happened at Marathon, and Lycus’s father had been part of it.

Eventually, Andronicus walked over to their tent. Lycus and Niko were already asleep. Andronicus lay down next to them, but once again, he could not fall asleep. He knew he should be thinking of the battle he had fought that day and of the many men he had killed, but all he could think of was how his father might have died and how Lycus’s father might have been involved.

                                                  8

When Andronicus woke, many of the men were already up and eating breakfast. Lycus was gone, but Niko still lay sleeping. He shook Niko awake and asked him where Lycus was. For a moment they both feared Lycus had gone to confront Diokles, but then Lycus came walking around the corner with bread in his arms.

They ate slowly, not talking at all, and then began dressing for battle. Andronicus noticed his helmet and breastplate had several dents that had not been there the previous morning.

The Persians didn’t attack until nearly midday. Andronicus saw that Xerxes was sending forth his slaves again. They wore no armor and had no greater weapons than the day before. Andronicus could not understand why the Persian king was trying the same tactic again. The previous day he had lost thousands of men, and the Greeks had lost less than fifty; the Spartans had lost only seven men.

Andronicus fell in line with the others. He was not nervous this time around; he knew as well as everyone else that they would crush the Persian attack. The Persians charged again, and again they were slaughtered by the Greeks. The Persians pressed the attack until nearly all of them had fallen, and then they began falling back, once again into the whips of their masters.

The Persians sent forth three waves that second day, none of which had any success. By the end of the second day, the consensus was that Xerxes was the most foolish battle commander in the history of warfare. The men laughed at the very sound of his name. Throughout the camp the words “king of kings” were said with mocking fancy.

The boys ate with their new friends without any trouble. Diokles was sober, and no one brought up the battle of Marathon. Andronicus went to sleep that night feeling confident and proud. For the rest of his life he would be able to say that he stood by King Leonidas and defended Greece from the great Persian invasion, just like his father.

                                                  9

Andronicus snapped awake as someone shook him. He opened his eyes and saw that it was still dark out. He couldn’t make out who was shaking him and quickly reached for his sword.

“It’s me, boy,” Gaios whispered through the blackness. “You have to leave. Now.”

“What?” Andronicus said groggily. “What are you talking about?”

“We have been betrayed,” Gaios said as he shook Niko awake. “The Persians will be here soon. You have to go.”

“If they’re coming, then we will fight them,” Lycus said. “We are here to fight for Sparta.”

“The rest of the Greeks are leaving,” Gaios replied. “You have to go with them.”

“No, Lycus is right,” Andronicus said, getting to his feet. “We are part of the king’s guard now. We will stay and fight until the last.”

“No,” Andronicus heard a deep voice say from behind him. He turned and saw King Leonidas standing there with a torch in hand. The orange light flickered on his weathered face, dancing across his thick beard. Andronicus would never forget the look on the king’s face, sad and angry and defeated and yet filled with a fiery determination.

“You boys have fought bravely,” Leonidas said, “but you are still boys. Every other man in my guard has a son to carry on his name. You boys were never meant to die with us. You have to go.”

“We can’t,” Andronicus pleaded. “We’re Spartans too, and we’re here to fight.”

“And fight you did,” Leonidas said, giving Andronicus a solemn look, “but you are not here to die. The rest of us are. You have to go now.”

“I won’t leave,” Lycus insisted. “If the Persians are coming then I will die fighting them, just as my father did.” Leonidas looked at Lycus for a moment, as if he were really seeing him for the first time.

“We were wrong about you, Lycus, son of Lycurgus,” the king said stoically, “you are as brave as any man here, and Sparta will need you in the wars to come. Sparta will need all three of you.”

“My king,” Andronicus pleaded, “we can’t leave. We can’t flee from a fight. We are Spartans; you said it yourself. And any Spartan would be damned to let a Persian horde kill his king.” Andronicus tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

“You boys are true Spartans,” Leonidas said, nodding, “Archelaus did a fine job with you, but I will not let you die for me. I command you to leave this place, as your king.”

Andronicus didn’t know what to do. Leaving now would go against everything he believed in, everything he had ever been taught, everything that his father had died for. He tried to think of something else to say, of something that would make Leonidas let them stay and fight.

“The time for talking is over,” Gaios said from behind him. “You have to leave now.”

“Gaios is right,” the king said. “Go, return to Sparta, and tell them what happened here.”

“Please, my king,” Andronicus pleaded, desperate now. “Let us follow you.”

“You are not meant to follow, Andronicus, son of Aristocles. You are meant to lead. You will lead great armies into battle someday. You will not die this night. Now go.” The king strode away, presumably to prepare for the oncoming attack. Andronicus turned back to Gaios.

“How did this happen?” Andronicus asked in shock.

“A traitor,” Gaios answered as he helped them saddle their horses, “some treasonous bastard named Ephialtes told Xerxes about the goat path. Within the hour we will be surrounded, which is why you must leave right now.”

Andronicus sat on his horse, Lycus and Niko next to him. Most of the Greeks were already fleeing on foot. Gaios and Diokles stood next to each other, looking up at the boys.

“I am sorry I called your father craven,” Diokles said to Lycus. “No matter what he was, you are a true Spartan.” Lycus glared down at Diokles but gave him a curt nod, then turned to leave. Andronicus looked at Gaios, and the tears spilled from his eyes; he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. There was so much he wanted to ask this man.

“Come with us,” Andronicus said. “If we don’t have to die then neither do you.”

“We do,” Gaios replied. “I have a son, Andronicus. His name is Daios. Watch out for him for me.” Then they turned and joined the massing Spartan force. Andronicus looked at Niko, and then they started away from the pass.

Andronicus turned back to take one last look at the soldiers who remained to fight. Three hundred of the greatest warriors on earth standing together, defiant, facing certain death head on. He saw King Leonidas standing with his torch, his face a mask of stone. Tears rolled down Andronicus’s cheeks as he took his last look at them. Then he turned away and rode off with Niko and Lycus, never to see any of those brave men again.