Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1)

by J. F. Danskin

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?” Nyx asked.

  Troy glanced around one more time, and then looked back at the two banished hoplites. “Others like me who want out, who want to overthrow the captains. We are going to meet at the pathway to the mountains tonight at dusk. At the north side of the outer path.”

  “Well… can you get our armor back?” asked Ianthe softly. “And perhaps even our spears?”

  “Let me go and check what is going on for a moment,” he said. “I’ll do what I can to get them back to you, and if it’s not possible, we’ll get you some more, I promise, and share our own weapons until we can. Just wait here.”

  Skill boost! You have developed your valor. +5XP

  Troy hurried past the reclining Spartan warrior to the end of the tunnel, who was still engrossed in watching the Trial of Hippolyta. There was now a wrestling contest in full swing. Or perhaps, Troy realized, more than just wrestling. Europa was astride one of the other hoplites and was punching the other woman repeatedly in the face. Clio could be seen at the far side of the arena, tussling with another recruit, a squat woman with cropped dark hair and dark skin who had gotten hold of a fistful of Clio’s hair. But as Troy watched on, Clio managed to get an arm around her rival’s neck, and she then forced the other woman down to the floor of the arena.

  The eight spears of the remaining contestants were still standing upright, point down in the earth, at the back of the arena. Each of them had a large block of dark wood at its base on which the contestant’s name had been written in chalk. There were also more loops of colored wool tied around them; some method of tallying up the points, Troy assumed.

  As he watched on, the current bout came to an end. Captain Semele walked to the center, clashing her baton upon a round bronze shield to quieten the crowd and gain the attention of the wrestling hoplites, who quickly separated and stood back, Europa’s partner clutching at her bloodied nose. The captain approached each pair one at a time, and held up one arm of the winner. First Europa, of course. Then the next winner, and then the next. And finally, she approached Clio and her partner. But it was the other girl, the stocky hair-puller, who was awarded the win.

  “That’s a bullshit decision,” muttered Troy.

  Each time a winner was declared, one of the blue-robed youths tied another colored ribbon to their spear, and Troy now realized how these allowed the assembled crowd to see who was in the lead, engaging them in the process. Europa was currently in first place, unsurprisingly; Clio had just a single ribbon on her spear, but Troy was relieved to see that there were two that had none at all.

  Another bout began, this time after wooden daggers were handed to each of the contestants. It seemed that each contest was brief, and there would perhaps be several more yet to come.

  As they commenced, this time with Clio and Europa facing off against each other, Troy made his way down to the edge of the arena, looking for the spears of the two banished girls. There was no sign of them, however, until he noticed Andros, standing at the far side of the arena, not far from the leader in the fine green robes. And Andros was holding three spears – his own and those that had been taken from the losing hoplites.

  Turning, Troy hurried back towards the tunnel, again not without escaping some jeers from local citizens when he briefly blocked their view of the current bout of fighting. There was no time to watch any more, and the spears were safe with Andros, meaning that they could be returned to their rightful owners in the evening.

  He made his way into the tunnel, past the soldier who was still reclining against the wall and watching the action, and then stopped dead.

  The youth with the blue robes was prostrate on the ground, blood smeared across his face, and there was no sign of Ianthe and Nyx. Hurrying forward, he reached the entrance to the tunnel, and saw – in the distance – the two young women sprinting as fast as they could up the wide street beyond. They were already at least a hundred yards away; there was no catching them.

  Troy turned back into the tunnel, wondering for a moment whether he could resume his seat beside Plato, only to see that the lazy Spartan warrior had advanced into the tunnel, and had clearly now noticed the downed youth and the absence of the captives. He was now glaring at Troy, shock and anger in his face. “Hey! You were supposed to be watching the prisoners!”

  * * *

  For a moment, Troy thought he might have to face the Spartan soldier in combat – a fight that he would surely lose.

  Instead, the man turned and ran towards the edge of the tunnel and the great arena beyond. “Lord Agiad!” he began to shout. “Captains! Andros! Fellow Spartans! This careless youth has let our prisoners go!”

  Shit.

  Facing the prospect of hundreds of angry Spartan soldiers and citizens descending upon him and meting out who-knows-what kind of punishment for his oversight, Troy did the only thing possible: he turned and ran. But not before grabbing the warrior’s spear, which was still leaning up against the wall of the tunnel.

  Skill boost! You have developed your quick thinking. +5XP

  Soon he was racing out at top speed, a spear in each hand. As he went, he once again felt a very distinctive cold and crackling feeling in the palms of his hands. It was happening.

  “Not now,” muttered Troy, willing the energy to disperse.

  But he did not know how to stop it. And in just a moment, both of the spears that Troy was holding were glowing with a bright white light, as was his shield. On both sides of the wide road, the peasants ceased sweeping horse dung and stared at him, but to his relief, there were very few other people around.

  Most of the soldiers and citizens were in the amphitheater.

  But not for long; Troy now heard shouting behind him. He glanced awkwardly over his shoulder, already feeling tired from running with the weight of two spears and a shield, as well as his other gear. At least ten fully-armored warriors had already emerged onto the road, and more were following. Meanwhile, the two female hoplites were now far out of sight. Who knows what direction they had gone in?

  Troy ran on. There was a curve in the road ahead, and he knew that the narrow walled path lay immediately to his left, just past a large oak tree. If he could get to it, perhaps he could hunker down and hide? But realistically, he immediately realized, there would be no hiding unless the magical glow would somehow subside. He was far too obvious a target.

  A spear flew past him. Man. They were actually flinging spears at him now? Trying to kill him? It seemed that even the main Spartan army would quite happily murder a child for making a single mistake and then running away. And without so much as a hearing to allow him to defend himself in a public forum, either. What was this place?

  Two more spears flew past now, the last of them just half a yard from Troy’s running feet. There was no way that so many troops were going to keep missing, he realized, no matter how much he ducked and wove.

  He came to a halt, turning to face his pursuers, who were no more than thirty yards behind him now. Surrender and survival had to be better, if only marginally, than death and bootcamp. Perhaps he could engage in some fast talk to convince them of his innocence, or at worst get himself thrown into a cell from which he could somehow escape…

  His hands and weapons were still glowing; it was embarrassing and incriminating. How was he going to explain it? It had begun as soon as he had been threatened. Perhaps that was the key to controlling it. But for now, there had to be some way of dissipating it; if they grabbed him like this, they might be hit by a blast of energy as happened to the hydra – and then he’d be in much worse trouble.

  Troy slammed the hafts of both spears onto the ground just in front of his feet, hoping that the magical energy would be dissipated harmlessly into the ground itself.

  He wasn’t at all prepared for what happened next.

  A huge ring of white energy appeared around him, a foot wide, and began to rapidly expand outwards at waist height. The first thing it reached were several peasants nearby, al
l of whom were knocked from their feet, some of them finding themselves propelled into the ditch, deep into the piles of horse manure which they had helped to sweep in there.

  The ring then continued onward, stretching and thinning as it expanded. It destroyed a yew tree at the side of the road, snapping it like it was a twig, and moments later reached the pursuing Spartan warriors who had been standing slack-jawed as the magical energy rushed onward towards them. A few had been smart enough to turn and run, and one threw himself to the ground and ducked under the ring, but the others were hit and thrown backwards like skittles. Even those who held up their shields were no better off, with the shields themselves crumpling or splitting. Some of the warriors were likewise flung into the dung at the side of the road, and others flew backwards into their own comrades, who were then hit again by the still broadening ring.

  Troy turned to run on the way he had been going; he couldn’t wait around any longer to see how the warriors would respond, or how far the magical ring would continue spreading chaos and destruction. Ahead of him, it had already cut through the lower branches of the oak beside the path, smashed the front of a wooden house just beyond, and knocked over two of the historic statues. Behind, it had almost reached the facade of the amphitheater; mercifully, it appeared to be weakening considerably as it spread and thinned.

  Troy spun past the damaged oak tree, catching a last glimpse of a much reduced and ragged band of warriors a few dozen yards back who were again trying to pursue, and then sprinted for the path.

  Level: Hoplite (Level 4)

  XP: 1015 (unspent: 0565)

  Hit points: 27/27

  Luck points: 1

  Mana points: 0

  Equipment: belt; coin pouch; dagger; greaves; hoplon shield; iron hatchet; spears (2).

  Chapter 29: Escape

  Breathing heavily, Troy ran up the narrow winding path. What the hell could he do now?

  In just a few short minutes, he had made himself a fugitive from Sparta – and that was definitely never a part of the plan! And what’s more, his closest friends were still back in the stadium itself. What was happening there, he wondered. Was it possible that the magical energy reached far enough to damage the amphitheater structure itself, or those within it?

  He really hoped not.

  And now, taking the only path of escape that he knew, he was making his way back up towards the one place he really needed to escape from – the training ground. If he was found there, things would be even worse, for the captains knew who he was and wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

  Even Andros couldn’t save him now.

  There was only one thing for it – he had to get off the path, and make his way through the city and far enough away that nobody would know who he was. He looked down. After the spectacular burst of energy that he had accidentally released earlier, the glow had gone from the spears and from his shield. So that would help, at least – he was vastly less conspicuous.

  Pausing, Troy looked behind him for a moment, and, determining that nobody was in his line of sight, he leaped the stone wall to his right, painfully scraping his leg due to his haste.

  Health update! You have lost 1 hit point.

  He then crouched down on the other side, laying his spears to the ground near the base of the wall. He turned and surveyed his new surroundings.

  Skill boost! You have developed your quick thinking. +5XP

  He was in a garden of sorts, with sporadic fruit and olive trees surrounded by well-trampled dry grass, and chest-height barrels that had been planted up with herbs and salad plants. Several goats were chewing and looking at Troy incuriously, but no human residents were anywhere to be seen. As he sat still, leaning back against the wall, Troy heard running footsteps in the lane that he had just vacated; at least two or three warriors ran past, apparently without having figured out which way he had gone.

  He would need to get out of here, that was clear. On the other hand, it made sense to let the warriors run on for a while, getting as far away from him as possible as they searched the path.

  Leaving the spears lying by the wall, and staying low, Troy crept over towards the nearest fruit tree. There were a fair number of delicious-looking peaches on it. He glanced over his shoulder. If he stood up tall here, he would be far too visible if the warriors came back, or anyone else followed them.

  But he felt starved, and the peaches were very tempting.

  Troy crept slowly and cautiously around the tree. There was, he could now see, a villa just a dozen yards away, and he would need to keep an eye out for any residents within. But first things first. He took a peach in each hand, crouched down at the tree trunk, and bit into the delicious, juicy flesh of the first one. It was sweet, juicy and fresh – the best thing he had tasted in days. Soon he had finished it, and began to bite into the other, standing again and moving cautiously towards the villa as he did so.

  If only he could find somewhere to hide, the fuss might die down without him having to flee straight away. And then, well… Perhaps Plato would tell the others, spread the word, and they could still all meet together at dusk as originally planned. If nothing else, Plato would surely tell Clio. If the three of them escaped the training ground and fled for the mountains while Andros investigated the captains, that would be a start.

  He crept closer to the villa. There was still no sign of its inhabitants. At its side was a wood shed, and he now recognized that he was not far from where he, Plato and Clio had faced down the Myrmidon – the building was of a very similar type, though it was not exactly the same one. There was a fence that ran along the front edge of the garden, keeping the goats in if nothing else – it was much too low to keep him or anyone else out. There was also a door that led directly into the back of the building.

  The goats had moved further away from him now, and he stepped past a small pile of their droppings and approached the back door. The shed, he realized, might make a safer place to hide. But perhaps the house itself was empty – if the well-to-do owners were currently at the amphitheater.

  And even if it necessitated a bit of minor stealing, he could really do with finding a cloak in order to hide his face whilst moving on through the city.

  * * *

  Inside, the villa was very different from any of the other Spartan buildings that Troy had been in so far. There was a wall that divided the room he had entered from the rest of the interior, but there the resemblance to his Elysian Fields dormitory ended. This room was furnished with elegantly carved and expensive-looking wooden furniture, most of which was draped with lush furs and woolen blankets. Even the floor had a thick woolen covering rather than plain stone. The walls were painted with skillfully represented images of gods and heroes. The figure of a ship with Greek warriors was prominent among them. The Spartan attack on Troy, perhaps?

  Looking at the blankets and seating, Troy was sorely tempted to curl up and catch up with some lost sleep. But the threats to him were too pressing, too immediate. The owners of the house could be back at any moment, after all. Indeed, for all he knew, both soldiers and citizens alike may have left the amphitheater after his own sudden departure had interrupted the show.

  His gaze alighted on a thin, black-dyed blanket that was lying on a nearby chaise-lounge. It was no cloak, but it would do a serviceable job of wrapping around himself to hide his face and cover up his shield, and it could perhaps be fashioned into a proper cloak with a bit of time and effort. He picked it up and draped it over his shoulders.

  Skill boost! You have developed your survival skills. +5XP

  So. Experience points for theft, then. Would he even get a chance to spend them, however? How was that going to work if he had fled to the mountains?

  The truth was that he had no idea.

  Troy returned to the garden, where the goats remained entirely unconcerned with his movements. He reflected for a moment that it was just as well that the residents of the villa didn’t have dogs.

  Picking up the two spears from
the base of the wall, he then ran to the front of the property and leaped the fence that ran along the front of its garden. Soon he found himself on a paved street, host to multiple villas and their surrounding fruit trees and crops. It was still quiet around, but Troy slowed his pace when he saw two citizens up ahead, and man and a woman of middle years who were deep in conversation. The pair stopped to look at him as he approached, keeping to the other side of the street. But when he raised his spear in a salute and said ‘good morning’, each of them just nodded and then returned to their conversation.

  After a couple more twists and turns, Troy began to recognize his surroundings. He reached a narrower paved street with a fountain – the same one he had once made his way along to escape the Myrmidon. He briefly stopped to fill his waterskin, and then paused, realizing that he was close to where he had first seen the old woman who had given him the potions. What had she said to him, again? Had there been some agreement to come and speak to her? He wasn’t sure that he entirely remembered. But this might be his last chance to do so.

  Turning, he hurried back along the street and up the sloping route beyond. He didn’t have to go far. Soon he was moving past the hut where they had once faced off against the powerful Myrmidon, past the bushes where he and Plato had hidden, and along to the threshold of the villa itself.

  He knocked tentatively. Almost immediately, the door swung open.

  “Expected to hear that, am I?” said Harmonia. Strangely, she was standing several yards inside, pulling her hands from the pockets of her dress as she spoke. Troy looked at the door, briefly wondering how she had managed to open it from there, and then dismissed the question from his mind.