When I awoke, I found myself under what seemed to be an open-sided festival tent with other wounded men lying all over the ground. I could smell the fresh sea breeze from the coast. The grass underneath me was soft enough and under my head was a rolled up cloak. The fresh air flowed over my skin, cooling my warm body. Looking down at my feet, I found I was wearing a new tunic. The relief I felt to not still be wearing sweaty armor was…beyond my words.
Tilting my head down, I felt something solid on my neck. Feeling around, I found that I was wearing some sort of jewelry. I pulled it off me, accidentally choking myself only slightly, I held a golden torc in my hand. My eyes closed and smiled wide. Outside of the tent, I could hear the clank of pans, groaning of suffering men, and horses neighing. I glimpsed what I found to be the sea in the distance. The light of mid-day made it sparkle in the distance. It was a pleasurable moment considering all that had happened.
Any cares I had melted away. I tried to scratch my leg and remembered my hand was bandaged. A pang of shock went through my body as I jolted up. The bandages were tight around my left hand, slightly pink where the fingers would be. My breath was quick and my mind raced. I began pawing at the wraps when a familiar voice addressed me. “You awake?” I looked at the open part of the tent and Estriadites walked in with a smile. His tunic was a rich blue and he held an air of nobility about him. In his hands was a small amphora depicting a warrior slaying a wild boar.
Tears watered my eyes, and I could not help but smile. “Brother,” I laughed for lack of words.
He smiled back. “Rest,” he said, carefully walking over a sleeping man and sitting beside me. He held the small amphora out, “Honeyed wine from Myclaetta, our sister city across the sea.” I must have looked impressed because my brother mischievous smiled and told me not to ask where he had gotten it from. It had to be stolen. I took a sip from the amphora, careful not to drop it with my good hand. The wine was the finest I have ever had. I have had finer vintages since, yet none compare to that day and what it meant to me.
Estriadites took a sip and savored it while we looked out to the sea and drank more. After the silence, I turned to him, “Are we near Lektrios?”
“Right outside the walls, actually. The best Lektrian physicians are attending to our wounded,” he paused to have another mouthful of wine. “They’re grateful for our demonstration of friendship…and no doubt surprised.”
He looked at the confusion made plain on my face. “They did not expect us to come, knowing the number of hoplites we could field. Do you know how many a large city like this can muster?” I shook my head. “At last count, I’d say they have over fifteen thousand,” I swear my jaw almost fell off my face. Years ago when we had fought with them against Kalocea, I heard they sent around six thousand to our aid. My mind could not fathom those numbers.
“But now we are here, as we promised,” he said.
“How many of us made it.”
“Just under eight hundred.” I was not sure how to take that news. It seemed like a higher price than what it was worth. “You know they treat us all like heroes?” I must have looked bewildered again because he chuckled. “We marched a great distance to get here and fought at least twice our number. Every Lektrian we’ve seen swarmed us with questions about the enemy, not to mention all the favorable glances from women. We’re the only ones that have seen them as of yet. Do know how many of their men we sent to the afterlife?”
I shook my head but instead of answering me, Estriadites sipped more wine, smacking his lips in approval. Absentmindedly, I hit his arm with my bandaged hand. I waited with wide eyes as I expected the pain to come.
My brother laughed hard and patted my shoulder, “That will be something to get used to,” he said, pointing to my bandaged hand. “Some say we killed six hundred and others, a thousand. Had I not been there, I would see the higher number as suspect.” Still amazed by the lack of pain, I gently touched my bandaged hand. “I asked about that.”
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“What?” I asked.
“You don’t feel any pain, do you? Feels numb?” I nodded slowly. “I watched the medikus tend to your hand. He chewed up some green leaves and wrapped them around the end of your fingers. That was after the burning and the stitching.” The blood drained from my face as I listened. “Worry not. Your leg was attended to.” I looked at my though and saw the gash in my leg was stitched closed. Now it itched.
“It’s alright, brother,” he laughed. “Rest easy knowing you’re in fine hands. Well, not too easy. The medikus hinted that since your wounds have been treated, you’re not to get any more of those leaves. Actually,” he said, as if it had just dawned on him, “that’s the purpose of me bringing this wine. The rest is for you.”
He placed the amphora next to me. “I recommend getting good and drunk because those herbs might not last for much longer. Not wanting to waste a moment, I grabbed the amphora and drank heartily or rather, enjoyed larger sips. It was quite a vintage to have.
Estriadites looked behind me and stood. I looked around to find Klysestes approaching. Even without his armor on, he commanded respect. My brother bowed slightly. Klysestes returned the gesture and walked over so I would not have to crane my neck. “How fares your hand?” he asked.
“At the moment, fine. The missing fingers are hardly missed,” I replied, not really knowing what to say.
Klysestes nodded without saying anything. The silence continued. I looked at my brother and his eyes met mine. Finally, Klysestes cleared his throat, “You both fought well yesterday. You honored your ancestors. I feel moved, perhaps by the goddess of wisdom,” he paused and shook his head. “My quarrel was with your father. He died a hero, as did my son died by your side,” he looked at me. “I’m having a Lektrian notary draft parchment as we speak.”
Estriadites and I looked at each other briefly, not knowing what to expect. “I am forgiving your father’s debts,” he explained. “The sum of the debt was never of much importance to me, and I think it time that we bury old enmities in favor of a brighter future.”
My brother and I gawked at the man. I assume we looked like proper wide-eyed idiots. Father’s debt was considerable enough to make our family indentured to Klysestes, likely until Kyron’s death of old age. It was a great gesture at the time, one that I most appreciated. Looking back on old memories, I also realized that with our family as meager as we were, the odds of us repaying the debt in full may have been slim and with the death of father, Klysestes would have no reason to spite us. It’s not as if Klysestes actually needed what little income we yet possessed.
“Gratitude,” I blurted out. “I-I…”I looked around for words. “Gratitude.” My brother bowed his head and said something equally as dignified.
Klysestes smiled, “Rest easy and you may well feel fit enough to fight the real enemy.” I smiled and shook my head slightly, trying to comprehend. “The main Elahkarian army is landing at Lenaeus Beach. Between the beach and the marshlands, they have made camp. Our combined army is there to meet them. It might yet be a few days before we clash, so rest.”
With a slight nod, he left the tent. I couldn’t move. My mind was racing. We fought. We fought so hard on the march that I lost sight of what the goal was. Truly, we fought for the right to fight the days to come. Now that we had arrived, the real battle would commence.
Only, my fears mattered not. I did not fight in the battle of Lenaeus Beach, where legends were forged and bled. The amount of blood I had lost on the way to Lektrios barely allowed me to walk. Taking into account my missing fingers, I would be of no help in a phalanx. I waited in the tent filled with wounded men for almost a week before news of the victory traveled back to me. At that point, I felt I could at least walk.
The celebrations in the city lasted for a fortnight, and I saw many a wondrous thing during that time. It was a moment in my life paralleled by no other. A truly wonderful and wild time, like Estriadites said, women asked to see the heroes from Demepolis. The only other moment I hold in such high regard would be my wedding day. Within the next year, I took the hand of Klysestes’ daughter Kylasene. It is true that I taunted Kyron about what I had done with her. If the truth is to be told, I loved her from the moment I was humbled in front of her. When I was on the march, the most we had done was shared a kiss. In the next year, we had married and were happy, for a time.
If it is a legend you wish to hear, ask your father. He can tell you all about the legend of Estriadites. Who better to tell it than the man himself? Though I took no part in the battle, what my brother had told me was the source that I based my play on. After these years, it is still a play that draws an audience as large as the day it opened. Estrianes and I always sought to have our names remembered, and now through what I write, they are.
I should thank the gods for that luck but instead, I thank them for those who willingly embraced death to see us free from foreign dominion. To them I owe thanks. Now let us be on our way. I should not want to miss the oration at the beginning of my own play.