“Charon the Ferryman is waiting for me to cross the Styx. My bond with the artifact is the only thing holding my soul on the banks of the living, but that bond is coming to an end. And so I must tell you the truth about the pyramid, before it is too late. It was created by the ones who came before in order to see through the webs of time. Past, present and things yet to come . . .”
“That is why the Cult revered the pyramid so much,” I said, suddenly realizing. “It is a key to control and order.”
“They never understood.” Pythagoras sighed. “Many decades ago, a group of people gathered together to uphold a theory which they believed could bring stability to the world. That everything functioned in equal parts, order and disorder. Discipline and freedom. Control and liberty. Like a set of scales in perfect harmony.”
The soft light around me warped to form a hazy image of a gathering. Among them, she saw a younger Pythagoras, guiding, teaching. Many heads nodded and some debated. Then she saw some, to the rear, whispering among themselves.
“But some of this group could not resist the temptations of boundless power. They fell into the arms of chaos . . . and the Cult of Kosmos was born.”
Images flashed across the soft light: of the masked villains gathering, chanting, of the tendrils of their wicked schemes—armies dying needlessly, citizens butchered, innocent men executed . . . and a child being tossed from a mountain.
“They abused their power, casting the Greek world into eternal war.” The images ceased abruptly. “A war you were destined to stop.”
I felt my heart thud. “Me? And . . . Alexios?”
“Aye, but the Cult took your brother and made him one of their own. Mortal blood runs in your veins, Kassandra, but so too does the crimson elixir of the ancient ones. Leonidas was of their line. So was I, and so too your mother. That was why she and I came together. In doing so she might have betrayed the Spartan, Nikolaos, but . . .”
“But better that than betraying the world to the Cult,” I finished for him.
“Aye. They hunted you, me, your mother and your brother because we were the keys to truly harnessing these artifacts. The pyramid only speaks to those who carry the blood of its creators. That’s why the Cult needed Deimos, even when they realized they could not control his chaotic nature.”
“But now the Cult is gone. I destroyed them. I succeeded,” I said.
His face sagged. “I wish I could tell you it was so, Kassandra. But in destroying the Cult, you have swung the scales too far. The world can only know harmony if there is balance. Don’t you see? It is the one lesson I should have imparted before I passed: by obliterating the Cult, you have merely cleared the earth for a darker, stronger weed to rise. Balance must be restored.”
A chill struck through me. “How can I restore balance? Where . . . where do I begin?”
“The staff is the key. It will grant you the gift of time. Time is everything. With it you can . . .” He fell silent.
“Father?”
“No . . . it is too late,” he said, his voice tight. “The dark weed has taken root already.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You must go, Kassandra, now!”
“Father?” I cried.
But with a whoosh, the visions were gone. I found myself in the quiet, deserted Cave of Gaia once more. The pyramid was cold and silent now. I heard my rapid breaths slow and felt my heart fall into a steady rhythm again.
“You saw it too?” a voice echoed through the cavern. “It was beautiful, wasn’t it?”
I now saw the pale hand resting on the other side of the pyramid, the arm reaching out from a well of shadow. Dead fingers crept over my skin. “Who’s there?”
She stepped forward from the shadows like a creature crawling from a dream. “Aspasia?”
“You’re surprised to see me?” she said.
I did not reply—my demeanor surely was answer enough. I beheld her: beautiful, elegant, draped in a white stola. And then my eyes came to a rest upon the shape underneath the garment. A hideous, hook-nosed, wickedly grinning theater mask. Aspasia took a step toward me and lifted the mask out. I stared at her. “How? Why?” I stammered.
“The Cult is gone, Kassandra,” she said, dropping the mask on the floor. She stepped upon it with her sandaled foot, cracking it in two. “I played my part as one of them, but only to aid my own designs.”
“Which are?”
“You heard the legend speak, did you not? Of the need to bring a new order to the world.”
“I don’t know what you heard or saw, Aspasia, but that is not what my father said. He showed me that extremes of order or chaos are not the answer, that balance is crucial.”
“Pythagoras was not strong enough to bring true order to the world,” Aspasia continued as if Kassandra had not spoken, “nor was the Cult. You were a useful ally in sweeping them from the board of this great game.”
“But . . . you let them kill Perikles.”
“I would have stopped it if I could have,” she said, her face impassive. “But you were there that day. You saw what happened. Deimos and his men would have slain us all had I tried to intervene. In any case, Perikles would have gladly died to bring about the Cult’s end.”
Silence.
“And now?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Now, the dream.” Aspasia said.
I could not tear my gaze from her eyes—glinting like ice crystals.
“The dream of all Hellas as a republic—no more squabbling city-states. An end to the competing ideologies of democracy and oligarchy. No more blue and red. No more fractious leagues. One realm, controlled—utterly—by a true leader: a philosopher-king to guide us all—a helmsman who will bring order to the world. It will be a lengthy process, like the growth of a new forest, and one best seeded in a bed of ashes . . . after the fires have raged.”
“Ashes, fire? Aspasia . . . Hellas is at peace,” I said.
“This sham of an accord? I will see that it does not last,” she purred. “In what forge but that of war can we otherwise hope to craft the dream?” Her face quirked with emotion: the traces of a cold smile. She shrunk back into the shadows, and her next words came from the darkness.
Instinctively, I stepped after her, but found nothing in those shadows.
“The dream of true, complete, unspoiled order . . .” she whispered from somewhere, the sibilant words fading with an echo. Then I heard the distant patter of departing feet. Gone.
Alone, my mind rocked like a boat in a squall, my hand itching to tear the Leonidas spear from my belt. To chase and challenge Aspasia? And then what—strike her down and fire the vengeance of her well-placed minions? After all that had happened, all I had been through, I realized that it was not over.
It had only just begun.
LIST OF CHARACTERS
Alexios: Kassandra’s younger brother who was cast off Mount Taygetos as a baby, following a damning prophecy by the Oracle of Delphi.
Alkibiades: Cunning and hedonistic ward to Perikles, the most powerful man in Athens.
Anthousa: The senior Hetaera at the Temple of Aphrodite in Korinthia.
Archidamos: The senior of Sparta’s two kings.
Aristeus: The Korinthian strategos.
Aristophanes: Perhaps Athens’s most famous comic playwright.
Aspasia: A brilliant thinker and speaker, and partner to Athens’s leader Perikles, Aspasia enjoys a place at the center of Athens’s vibrant intellectual community.
Barnabas: Loyal friend to Kassandra, a well-traveled seafarer and onetime mercenary with a passion for tall tales.
Brasidas: One of Sparta’s greatest and bravest generals, Brasidas was also an accomplished statesman with the noble objective to help end the war.
Chrysis: A Cultist priestess who raised Deimos to become a weapon of the Cult
of Kosmos.
Deimos: Raised within the Cult of Kosmos to become their hero and champion, Deimos is a brutal, living weapon whose extraordinary powers give him a fearsome reputation.
Diona: A Cultist from Kythera.
Dolops: Son of Chrysis and a priest at the Sanctuary of Asklepios.
Elpenor: A rich, powerful businessman from Kirrha.
Erinna: One of Anthousa’s Hetaerae.
Euneas: Navarchos of the Naxian fleet.
Euripides: Famous Athenian tragedian.
Hermippos: A playwright and poet . . . with dark connections.
Herodotos: “The Father of History,” a chronicler of facts and events, and yet a fine storyteller, who decides to accompany Kassandra on her journey.
Hippokrates: Widely thought of as the father of modern medicine, Hippokrates is famous for his important and lasting contributions to the field.
Hyrkanos: An Athenian-hired mercenary, operating in the Megarid.
Ikaros: Kassandra’s most loyal companion since he was a mere eaglet.
Kassandra: A hardened and formidable misthios.
Kleon: The staunch power-hungry rival of Perikles who believes Athens needs to take an aggressive stance in the war.
Leonidas: Sparta’s legendary king, and Kassandra’s grandfather, best known for leading his three hundred warriors into the battle of Thermopylae.
Lydos: A Helot slave in the service of Sparta’s two kings.
Markos: A shady Kephallonian “businessman.”
Myrrine: Kassandra’s mother, a fierce Spartan.
Nikolaos: Kassandra’s father, a fierce, ruthless general unshakably loyal to Sparta.
Oracle of Delphi: The Oracle, consulted by commoners and the most powerful people of Greece alike, delivers prophecies and insights that can turn the tides of history.
Pausanias: The junior of Sparta’s two kings.
Perikles: The elected leader of Athens.
Phoibe: A young Athenian orphan adopted by Kassandra.
Pythagoras: Legendary philosopher, political theorist and geometrician.
Roxana: One of Anthousa’s Hetaerae.
Silanos: A Cultist who rose to power in Paros thanks to his great naval skill and wealthy supporters.
Sokrates: Famous Athenian philosopher patronized by the intellectual elite of Athens.
Sophocles: Famous Athenian tragedian.
Stentor: Nikolaos’s adopted son and a Spartan officer of some repute.
Testikles: The talented and inebriate pankration champion of Sparta.
The Cyclops: Powerful criminal tyrant of Kephallonia.
The Monger: A Cultist who leads the underground business market, feared for his torture methods.
Thrasymachos: Sokrates’s intellectual sparring partner.
Thucydides: One of Athens’s key generals during the Peloponnesian War and one of the first historians to record an objective account of the struggle.
GLOSSARY OF FOREIGN TERMS
Abaton A hall in the Sanctuary of Asklepios where the sick slept.
Adyton The innermost shrine of a Greek temple.
Agoge Sparta’s famous school for boys, which forced them to weather extreme hardship and foster a great love of the state from the age of seven. Boys would remain tied to the school in many ways until they were thirty, when they would finally be considered full-blooded Spartiates.
Andron The main room in a Greek home for entertaining.
Archon Leader.
Auloi (sing. aulos) Spartan war pipes.
Bakteriya The distinctive T-shaped staff held by Spartan officers.
Enomotia A “sworn band” of thirty-two Spartan soldiers who were often related or had close ties. They would camp, eat and march together.
Ephors A group of five elected Spartan statesmen. It was the ephors’ responsibility to declare war, to determine how many of the rare Spartan regiments would march to battle, and to hold the two kings of Sparta to account.
Exomis A one-shouldered tunic, usually worn by men.
Gerousia The Spartan council of elders.
Hetaerae Esteemed courtesans who served the goddess Aphrodite.
Himation An old-style garment worn by men that left most of the chest bare.
Hippeis The Spartan royal guard.
Hoplite The heavy infantryman of classical Greece.
Keleustes The rowing master aboard a trireme.
Khaire Welcome.
Kothon A mug from which Spartans used to drink their beloved black broth.
Kybernetes The helmsman on a galley.
Lochagos The officer in charge of a lochos.
Lochos A Spartan regiment. Ever more rare in the time of our story.
Malákas! Asshole!
Misthios A mercenary.
Navarchos Admiral.
Pankration A sport similar to modern boxing and wrestling.
Peltast A lightly armed infantryman who would carry a supply of javelins and harry the enemy from the edge of battle.
Porpax A leather or metal sleeve inside a shield. Wearers would slide their arm into this and their shield would effectively become part of them.
Skiritos A special Spartan levy of free but noncitizen subjects who lived near the Skiritis Mountains. They excelled at scouting and serving as outlying night watchmen, as well as performing a vital role as support troops in battle.
Stola A long, pleated dress.
Strategos A military governor.
Strigil An implement used to exfoliate the skin after bathing.
Symposiarch The person in charge of orchestrating a symposium.
Taxiarchos The officer in charge of a taxiarchy.
Taxiarchy An Athenian regiment (in our story, though in reality probably all Greek city-states used the term at some point).
Thorax Body armor.
Triearchos The captain of a trireme.
SPECIAL THANKS
Yves Guillemot
Laurent Detoc
Alain Corre
Geoffroy Sardin
Yannis Mallat
Thierry Dansereau
Jonathan Dumont
Melissa MacCoubrey
Susan Patrick
Stéphanie-Anne Ruatta
Etienne Allonier
Elena Rhodes
Aymar Azaïzia
Anouk Bachman
Antoine Ceszynski
Maxime Durand
Sarah Buzby
Clémence Deleuze
Julien Fabre
Caroline Lamache
Anthony Marcantonio
François Tallec
Salambo Vende
Elsa Fournier
Virginie Gringarten
Marc Muraccini
Cécile Russeil
Michael Beadle
Dominic DiSanti
Kimberly Kaspar
Heather Haefner
Joanie Simms
Aaron Dean
Tom Curtis
Annette Dana
Grace Orlady
Stephanie Pecaoco
Sain Sain Thao
Giancarlo Varanini
Morgane Frommherz
Valentin Hopfner
Valentin Meyer
Aline Piner
Clement Prevosto
Joel Richardson
Elizabeth Cockeram
Thomas Colgan
Miranda Hill
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gordon Doherty is the author of the Legionary series and the Strategos series, historical fiction novels set during the Roman and Byzantine empires. When Gordon is not writing his novels or exploring the past, he enjoys running, climbing and archery. He lives in Scotland.<
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