Page 158 of Eryx

Paris and Galen stood in the crowd. They had just returned from another assignment and would not be joining us on the campaign. I nodded to them, and they returned the gesture. Acamas stood between them, his brow creased as he looked at us.

“Forward!” the king exclaimed.

And then we left Sparta.

All was quiet amongst the men apart from our feet upon the earth and the occasional clank of one shield upon another. Axios had a deep crease in the middle of his forehead, as if he were heavily pondering something.

“What is on your mind?” I asked.

“The sun,” he answered.

I doubted his honesty but chose not to press him on the matter.

“I heard the other officers speak of the army in Orchomenus joining us before we reach Boeotia,” I casually said. “We will have a dominating force with the armies combined. Thebes will not know what hit them.”

There was an instant shift in his behavior. Axios turned his head toward me and a wide smile stretched his lips. The promise of seeing Quill again had been what he’d needed to pull him out of his dark thoughts.

“I knew that would make you smile,” I said, grinning at him.

“You know me better than anyone.”

***

The routes near Boeotia had been blocked, stalling our advance into the territory. An army of our size was too large to hide, so I knew Thebes had received word of our approach long before we’d arrived.

After hitting yet another blocked route, we were ordered to make camp for the night.

The men, who were fatigued and irritated because of it, built fires and ate their portions of food. I sat with my unit and did the same. We’d been marching for days and the men’s spirits were low. They took the blocked routes as an omen of impending doom.

I bit off a piece of dried meat and glanced around the land as I chewed it. Green valleys and beds of soft flowers. And a mountain in the distance. I cocked my head and focused on it, noting the peculiar shape of the peak, like a thumb. I had never seen it before, but I remembered my father telling me about it.

Warmth filled my chest. My father might’ve been a coward, but I would forever cherish my memories of him. His stories had often lifted my spirits… perhaps I could do the same for my men.

“Look,” I told Axios, pointing at the mountain. “Do you know what that is?”

Axios squinted at it. “A mountain?”

I laughed and bumped his shoulder. “Well, yes, but do you knowwhichmountain?”

He shook his head.

“It is Mount Helicon,” I said, unable to hide the excitement in my tone. “There is a spring located deep within the mountain, you see. And do you know what occurred at that spring?”

Axios stared at me in awe and shook his head again. “Tell me.”

Demetrius and Cassius joined us around the fire, as did several men from different units. All stared at me, waiting for me to continue.

“Once, there was a man from Thespiae who was a magnificent hunter. However, he was not just a simple man. He was the son of a river god, and his name was Narcissus.” I tore off another piece of meat and chewed it. “Not only was Narcissus a hunter, but he was also very beautiful. Maidens and young men fell at his feet, pining for his attention, but he refused them all.”

“Why?” Kleonymos asked, holding the same wide-eyed innocence as Demetrius. His father was Sphodrias, and the commander had spoken highly of his son several times during our meetings. “Why did he refuse them all?”

“None of them touched his heart,” I answered, smiling when the men leaned closer. They were captivated by the story, and it pleased me to give them the distraction. “Yet, one day, Narcissus journeyed toward Mount Helicon. He was annoyed by the attention of all the young men and women who desired him, thus he longed to have a moment of privacy. And then he came to a pool of water.”

Axios smiled and rested his chin on his hands. Like a curious child.

“He was thirsty and knelt to cup some of the fresh water into his palms,” I said, mimicking the action. “But something then happened. Seeing his reflection in the spring, Narcissus finally knew love, and his heart soared at the sight. He admired his beauty in the reflection, awed at the sight of himself: the complexion of his smooth skin and his masculine face. He was unable to leave then. No matter how dry his mouth became or how empty his stomach, he could not move.”

The men around me gaped, and one asked me how Narcissus escaped.