Page 20 of Axios

After he’d spoken, he watched Eryx with an almost taunting expression, as if he expected him to react and become violent at the insult of his father.

Eryx remained indifferent. “And who, might I ask, are you?” he calmly asked. “A man should announce himself when addressing new faces, and yet, you’ve not given us your name.”

Out of sight from everyone, I touched Eryx’s leg as a way to warn him to stop. I loved when he spoke his mind, but not now. His actions would get him punished if he were not careful.

“Belos,” the man answered, giving Eryx an unwavering stare. Instead of backhanding my friend across the face as I’d feared, Belos studied him as if he were an interesting creature he’d just discovered. “You do not cower in the presence of your superiors, boy. I wonder why that is.”

“Why would I cower? You are but a man of flesh and bone, and when cut, you bleed the same as any other.” Eryx’s voice rang out clearly amongst the group, and all eyes focused on him.

I squeezed his thigh, and his hand moved atop mine as if to reassure me, but it did not. I wanted to scream at him, to remind him of our place, but my fear betrayed me, and I could not speak.

Belos leaned forward. “Do you intend to stab me, boy? Watch me bleed?”

Eryx smirked with no humor, and it was one of the first times his distant attitude frightened me a bit. “Only if I must.”

Not a sound followed his bold statement. Even the older males kept their silence. A mere youth challenging an experienced soldier was unheard of.

Nikias, who sat beside Haden, gave Eryx a stern look. His warning from earlier hadn’t been heeded, at least not by Eryx.

When a deep laugh erupted, the tension in the room vanished and was followed by exhales of relief.

Belos grabbed a cube of cheese and popped it into his mouth before pointing to Eryx. “I am fond of your spirit. Your will and intellect are strong. One day you will not only be a skilled warrior, but you shall lead them. Mark my words.” After taking a drink from his goblet, he continued, “You asked of Tiribazus. He is a general of Persia and seems a reasonable man. Antalcidas hopes to negotiate peace with him to end the war. Persians are scum. All of them. But if we are to ever end the bloodshed, peace is necessary. We have shown we’re the dominating power in Greece, and now more than ever, Sparta needs success in forging soldiers who carry on the legacy so many men have died to attain.”

At that time, men carrying trays walked into the dining hall. I instantly recognized them as helots by their way of dress. One wore a leather cap on his head and they were both clothed in animal skins. They placed a bowl in front of each of us.

I almost thanked the man when he sat mine down, but I forced my mouth shut before I could do so. The soldiers sitting around the table wouldn’t take well to me treating a slave with respect.

Instead, I caught the eye of the helot and softly smiled to let him know my gratitude without words.

His eyes widened before he dropped his gaze and stepped backward, but the corner of his lips had lifted as well.

Treating anyone with cruelty just for the status of their birth wasn’t honorable to me. Helots were the foundation of Sparta in my eyes. They farmed and provided us our nourishment; they crafted and performed all the domestic duties.

But even if theywereworthless, what decency would it be to treat them so harshly when they’d done no wrong?

“Axios. Eat,” Eryx whispered. “The men are watching you.”

I looked up to meet Belos’ narrowed stare.

“Something the matter with the food, boy?” he asked in a low tone.

“No, sir.” To prove my words, I scooped up some of the broth and ate it, cringing only slightly as the bitter flavor hit my tongue.

Black broth was an acquired taste. The dish was composed of vinegar and salt-seasoned pork that had been cooked in blood. When I was younger, I had first been repulsed by it, but growing up with so little food, I began appreciating whatever I could get my hands on and the aversion had somewhat trickled away.

Another man entered next and filled each of our glasses with wine. The smell of it made my mouth salivate, but I did not reach for my goblet until Belos instructed us to do so.

“Drink,” he said.

I eagerly reached for it and took a drink. Like the broth, it had bitterness as well, but also a sweetness that helped balance the taste. And it was strong.

Quill, who was still the smallest of our group and had barely put on any weight in the past two years, grabbed his cup and began gulping the liquid. Sitting beside him, I watched as he drank and willed him to slow down.

Wine had a way of altering one’s mind and drinking that much wasn’t favorable.

When he sat it back on the table, it was nearly drained. He turned in his seat and grinned at me right before he hiccupped. His brown eyes were watery and he swayed a bit.

“You,” Belos said, pointing to Quill. “To your feet!”