Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1)

by J. F. Danskin

  Troy nodded, remembering now that Clio had mentioned this a few days previously.

  “It will be your turn soon enough,” Europa added.

  * * *

  It was pitch dark by the time the small group reached the edge of the swamplands and come to a coast with twisted sandstone rocks and large dunes.

  “At least it’s dry here,” said Troy. He felt exhausted. Indeed, all of them other than Plato looked ready to drop. Plato, despite his wounds, had been taking the lead for most of the journey, and latterly the others had repeatedly had to tell him to slow down.

  The coast now stretched in front of them in the twilight. They were further north than the boys had been before, and had further to return, but the path from this point looked straightforward enough. Troy wondered if they would have time to stop at the fishing village again. Surely they must pass through it before getting back to Sparta, he reasoned. Perhaps the mysterious old woman would be there again. She might even have more potions that she could share.

  He looked around at Plato as they all sat down on the sand, sipping from their waterskins. “I think that potion must still be affecting you,” he said. “You don’t seem tired at all, and your wounds aren’t slowing you down.”

  Plato patted at his wounded leg; the puncture marks were now even more faded than before. “You’re right. There’s almost no pain now. And did you notice that our status now shows mana points?”

  “Mana points?” Troy took a moment to remember where he had heard that before, and then recalled that it was one of the options for spending XP in the Titans Rest building. He quickly reviewed his own in-game profile by saying ‘status’ inside his head once again:

  Combat skills: 8

  Creativity: 7

  Grit: 14

  Interpersonal skills: 10

  Knowledge: 15

  Quick thinking: 9

  Survival skills: 7

  Valor: 9

  Inventory: arrows (3); belt; canvas bag; coin pouch; dagger; empty glass vial; greaves; hoplon shield; iron hatchet; waterskin (51%).

  Level: Hoplite (Level 4)

  Experience points: 525

  Hit points: 27

  Mana points: 0

  “You’re right,” he said. “Though mine seem to have all been used up in the battle.”

  ”I still have seven, and I feel like I’m bursting with energy,” said Plato.

  The emptiness in their stomachs was another matter. As they all settled down for the evening, Plato bravely joked that perhaps they should have tried hydra meat, to follow on from the grass snake skewers they had eaten previously. But nobody was in the mood to laugh; they all knew that their triumph over the monster had been close run. Glaucus was lost to them, and it could easily have been much worse. And as for their appetites, they would have to content themselves with drinking water.

  Troy moved over to sit beside Clio on the long grass at the back of the sand dune, and noticed that she, too, had acquired a new scar, a long red line down the outside of her left upper arm.

  “Did that happen on your quest?” he asked, pointing.

  She looked around towards her shoulder, then shrugged. “I was lucky. We had to tackle the flesh-eating mare of Thrace,” she said. “It looks like a horse, but it’s really a ferocious carnivore with the appetite of a dragon. It had been stolen from its owner, but was wild and ferocious.”

  “Did you kill it?”

  “No, for that was not our mission,” she said. “We had to calm the beast. The thief was a local king who lives in the mountains north of here, inland from the coast. A barbarian.”

  “I see.”

  “At first he promised to help us, but he gave us both poisoned wine. We learned the truth when I held him at knife point and Europa demanded that he drink some of it himself. Of course he refused.”

  Troy nodded. “And what happened then?”

  “I held the vile king captive while Europa tried to capture the wild mare from his lands, but it was too strong and dangerous even for her to hold it with a rope. She found herself being pulled across the field, and if she hadn’t been quick on her feet she would have been eaten. I was on the point of shooting the mare to save her, but had I done so, we would have failed the challenge.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “We marched the king to the edge of the field, and once he was there, Europa struck him hard and he pitched over the fence. The mare chased him down and devoured him inside a minute.”

  “Wow. I guess he got what he deserved.”

  She nodded. “I think the mare was half-starved, too, for after that she proved much easier to control. We were able to bind her, forming a harness with our rope, and led her from there back to her rightful owner. Not without sustaining a few scrapes and bruises” – she nodded towards her injured arm again – “but we made it there quickly enough in the end.”

  “Not just lucky, then,” he commented.

  She shrugged again. “There was an element of luck. I told you before, Europa’s the most capable warrior in my dormitory. She can run, she can climb, she can shoot, she can dress wounds, and I wouldn’t like to have to face her in a sword fight, I can tell you. But I may have to, during the coming trial.”

  Troy glanced over towards Europa; the young woman had curled up a few yards away, and was now sleeping soundly on the sand, covered up with a green travel cloak.

  He looked back around at Clio. “It’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “But, you know… we are Spartans. True warriors.”

  “Right.”

  She yawned. “Whew, I am exhausted,” she said, curling up on the long grass of the dune. “Good night, Troy.”

  “Night,” he replied.

  As they had been speaking, he had been rubbing his hands together, and as the others all succumbed to sleep, he gazed at his palms. Each of them was glowing slightly with white light.

  Level: Hoplite (Level 4)

  XP: 0975 (unspent: 0525)

  Hit points: 27/27

  Luck points: 1

  Mana points: 1

  Equipment: arrows (3); belt; canvas bag; coin pouch; dagger; empty glass vial; greaves; hoplon shield; iron hatchet; waterskin (29%).

  Chapter 25: A Return to Sparta

  At last they were approaching Sparta, its distinctive pale and square houses clustered over the lower slopes of the mountain range, and clear waters of the River Eurotas sparkling in the afternoon sunshine.

  They had barely stopped on their way back, skirting the village with the well despite Troy’s protestations. The effects of the potions had, it appeared, entirely worn off. There was no further glow on the palms of Troy’s hands, or his weapons. However, he resolved to make his way down to the villa as soon as he could, in case he would be able to once again find the old witch-woman in her home in Sparta.

  Troy glanced around as they came to the broad bridge over the river. In the past few minutes, the three surviving boys had built up a lead over Clio and Europa, not least because the two young women were deeply preoccupied with their forthcoming trial, and had been discussing strategy as they walked.

  The boys, on the other hand, couldn’t stop discussing the treachery of their captains.

  “We can’t confront them directly,” said Plato. “But we’ll get a clue when we see how they react to Glaucus’s death, and the hydra. They probably expected us to fail hard.”

  “Perhaps,” said Ajax quietly. “But let’s not say anything too soon. We should watch and wait, plus take the time to speak to Andros and find out what he knows.”

  “Yes,” Plato said, nodding. ”It’s been three days now. The guy should have recovered from his wound. Fully rebooted.”

  “Hopefully not until we get back,” said Troy grimly, “or they’ll just assassinate him again.”

  On the far side of the wide stone bridge across the river they paused to eat and to refill their waterskins; between them they had gathered a small feast from the many smallholdings
they had passed.

  “Do you feel a bit bad about taking this stuff?” said Troy, holding a handful of dried fruit.

  “Not at all. It’s the Spartan way,” Europa assured them. “We are supposed to be self-sufficient.”

  Ajax nodded, sneering slightly as he did so. “She is right, of course. Farming and fishing are for peasants. We are warriors. At least, most of us are. The jury is still out for some.”

  “Like the ones that hide in the ruins while their comrades are doing all the fighting?” said Troy, raising his eyebrows.

  Ajax scowled and put his hand to his sword hilt, but a yell of ‘enough!’ from Clio put a stop to their squabbling.

  Silenced, Troy glanced around the group. He missed Glaucus, who had turned out to be a lot nicer than he had at first expected, despite his at-times gloomy demeanor. And although he himself had frequently championed the goal of working as a team, Troy still felt no fonder of Ajax than he had when they set out.

  As for Europa, she was harder to gauge. He looked over at her as she bit through a strip of dried beef that she had collected from a farmhouse window. She had said she would help uncover the plot by the captains. But could she really be trusted?

  He couldn’t really be sure. It was best to speak Andros first, and then worry about the other hoplites after.

  As he munched on another handful of fruit, Troy noticed that Plato had a golden circlet in his hands, and was squinting at it as the midday sunlight glinted off the mysterious treasure.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing. “Where did you get it?”

  Plato narrowed his eyes for a moment, still staring at the thing as if hypnotized. “It’s a pretty golden thing, isn’t it? It was in Glaucus’s shoulder bag, together with the box.”

  “It looks like a headband.”

  “Yeah, man. It’s a circlet.”

  “What do you think it does?”

  Plato shrugged. “It must have come from the box. So it makes me wonder…”

  “You think it connects with the golden figures that you found in some way?”

  He nodded. “It must do, surely.”

  “Perhaps it has some special properties.”

  “Yeah. It might.” Plato tucked the gleaming circlet back into his own bag, and then pulled out two of the empty potion bottles. Here, take these,” he said. “You got them – perhaps you can use them to trade, or something.”

  Troy turned the little vials in his hand, recalling how he had lost most of his gems after the cruel beating at the hands of Ajax and his sidekicks. There was a slight chance that these had some value, and could be traded back down at the market where he had gained his greaves.

  “Thank you. I’ll see what I can do with them. Perhaps the old woman might even refill them for us.”

  * * *

  Soon the group were on their way again. Troy briefly walked beside Clio as they approached the hill path, with the Helot village lying just ahead of them.

  “Good luck for tomorrow,” he said.

  “The trial? Thank you. I don’t think I have much chance of victory, though.”

  “Is the aim to win a prize?”

  She glanced sideways at him. “I am sure that they’ll tell you everything you need to know when your time comes. But yes – there’s a prize available, and also a punishment. The winner is to be gifted the Axe of Menelaus, a mighty two-handed blade which is said to be the greatest weapon in the city. It’s reputed to be magical. The top four ranked hoplites all get a day’s rations as well as their pick of pieces from one of the city’s best armorers. That’s really what I am aiming for.”

  “Can you trust the fairness of the contest, though?” he asked. “I mean, with what we know about the captains, how they are working to undermine us…” He left the thought unfinished.

  She shrugged. “I can’t help wanting to win. And if I do gain one of the prizes, that should help in the long run.”

  “Yeah. I mean, sure – you should certainly try to win.”

  They walked on, Clio looking down and to their left where the city’s amphitheater was located. “As for the punishment, though… the losers are banished. That means the lowest-ranked three from our dormitory. And since we’re already down two from our starting number, that feels like too much of a risk for my liking.”

  “Banished?”

  “Uh huh. Yes.”

  “That seems ridiculously tough when you might not even have made any mistakes, just that others did slightly better on the day.” Troy shook his head. Was this another case of the captains using features of Sparta Online to undermine their training? Or was this aspect – as Europa had suggested the previous day – just a design feature, with a goal of making the process suitably rigorous?

  It was a question that might have to wait.

  On their return to the training ground, two unfamiliar Spartan warriors were sparring near the center of the great rectangular area, standing in front of a hay bale which had concentric circles painted upon it, as if it was intended as an archery target.

  Beyond this scene, Troy was relieved to see Andros back on his feet. The big guide was standing alone outside the Bathhouse at the far side of the area, and Troy hurried over to him, with Plato just behind. The man was looking healthy and standing upright, though he still had bandaging around his midriff.

  Frustratingly, however, the big warrior refused to listen to their concerns straight away.

  “I’m always happy to answer your questions,” he said, standing with his muscular arms folded. “But your first duty now is to report back from your quest. That means going to speak to your captain.”

  “But this is really important,” repeated Troy in a hushed voice, looking around over his shoulder and scanning the area for signs of Captain Theseus.

  “Yeah,” agreed Plato, nodding. “We think that someone is trying to harm the training. Traitors to our city.”

  “Traitors to Sparta?” repeated Andros, frowning.

  “Yes, but more – to Technoburbia, we mean,” said Troy.

  “That’s right.” Plato nodded earnestly.

  “You should ask the Helots,” Troy added. “They saw the conspiracy.”

  But as Andros looked from one to the other, he made a calming motion with his hands, a slight smile upon his face. “I hear what you are saying, young men, and your loyalty to Sparta is impressive. But like I said, you must speak to your captains after returning from a mission. Rules are rules.”

  “But Andros…” Troy persisted.

  However, the warrior was already walking away. “It’s great to see you back safely, hoplites,” he added, speaking over his shoulder. With this, he stepped into the Bathhouse building, leaving Plato and Troy looking at each other in dismay. With little else that they could do, they turned and began walking back to the Elysian Fields.

  “We didn’t even get a chance to warm him properly,” said Troy. “It looks like he is still recovering, and he could be stabbed again.”

  “Maybe,” said Plato thoughtfully. “But he has survived for at least a day while we were gone. He’s no fool, and no pushover either. Perhaps having been stabbed once, he’ll be more watchful next time around.”

  Level: Hoplite (Level 4)

  XP: 0975 (unspent: 0525)

  Hit points: 27/27

  Luck points: 1

  Mana points: 5

  Equipment: arrows (3); belt; canvas bag; coin pouch; dagger; empty glass vials (3); greaves; hoplon shield; iron hatchet; waterskin (98%).

  Chapter 26: By Night

  Troy and Plato made their way to the Feasting Hall where they were to gather for an evening meal.

  Concerningly, there had still been no sign of the group that included Canis and Leon during the day so far, and there was no sign of any of them at the Feasting Hall, either. However, the pair of boys did see Clio and Europa, and moved over to join them at one of the wooden benches near the back of the room.

  Soon, the four hoplites were munching in contented and c
ompanionable silence. This time the fare was much more appetizing than usual; honey cakes and chicken stew. There had been no sign of the spears they had been promised as rewards, but the food was very welcome after days on the road. Troy was looking forward to sleeping in his bed, too.

  Ajax was sitting with another of his friends, a boy named Oeneus, and the pair were speaking quietly together at the far side of the hall, and Troy noticed them glancing over at him several times. When Ajax pointed to the palms of his own hands, he wondered if the tall hoplite was relating a version of the battle of the hydra, and the death of Glaucus. And if so, was it an accurate retelling?

  Either way, he didn’t feel he was on any worse terms with Ajax than before. And if anything, their shared distrust of the captains suggested that there might be common ground to be explored in the future. It also felt like there had been a meeting of minds when they had agreed how to resolve disputes, prior to setting out.

  All the same, Troy planned to keep a close eye on his possessions.

  Just then Andros strode into the room and called for quiet. “Hoplites!” he shouted. “The time has come for the reward for your bravery. All of you here tonight were set a quest, and have returned successfully. There have been losses on the way, I know – that is part of the life of the soldier.”

  At this, Troy glanced briefly over at Ajax, and then back at their big guide.

  “Now,” continued Andros, “it is time for you to receive the true weapon of the hoplite. For all that we must know how to use swords and bows, it is the spear that is the main military weapon of the Spartan army. With a spear, there is no way that a warrior with an axe or dagger can reach you, and so you will always hold the upper hand in any such combat. And a spear and a shield in combination are the two key items that you will need when you march to war.”

  Andros then waved over two unfamiliar Spartan soldiers. Each was carrying around eight or nine spears in their arms, and soon the hoplites were swarming forward, food abandoned, to grab one before the supply ran out.