Page 95 of Eryx

“You named your horse after a sword, Eryx.”

I smirked.

“She is not my horse,” I said, somewhat saddened by the fact. Once I’d circled the field a few times, I released Xiphos to roam free and went over to Axios. “Is Leanna well?”

Leanna had given birth only days ago and had fallen ill shortly after. Haden had broken the rules and stayed the full night away from the barracks watching over her. Axios and I had also snuck over to see her. I had prayed to the goddess Leto to give Leanna strength.

My own mother had died bringing me into this world. I could not bear it if the same happened to Leanna. It would destroy Haden.

“Yes.” Relief sparked in his eyes. “Both she and Leonidas are healthy and well.”

I exhaled and nodded, not realizing I had been holding my breath. “Good.”

Haden had named his son after Sparta’s former king, hoping the name would provide his son with strength, intellect, and courage. Perhaps the name had given him good fortune after all.

“Take a walk with me,” I said, touching his hand.

We walked through the field, passing the men practicing hand-to-hand combat. They looked to be youths of eighteen, nearly adults but not quite. The sun was still high in the sky, shining down on them in a relentless heat.

“Stop!”

Axios and I snapped our heads to the right where a group of youths stood around a helot. And the person who had yelled?

Demetrius.

He barged toward the group and shoved one of the boys out of the way. The helot covered his head with his arms as he huddled on the ground. Demetrius knelt beside him and placed a hand on his back.

I glanced at Axios. Demetrius truly was just like him, of tender heart and sympathetic toward the slaves. Axios had changed as he’d grown older, though I knew he still carried that gentleness inside him.

The slave stood with Demetrius’ help and ran into the field. He was only a boy, no older than the one I had slain at the dining mess.

“How dare you take the side of a slave!” one of the youths shouted before rearing back his arm.

Demetrius caught the boy’s fist in his hand before it made contact and twisted it to the side, just like I had shown him in training. The boy cried out and dropped to his knees. But there were four other youths, and all of them glared at Demetrius.

“Should we intervene?” Axios asked.

I shook my head. “Demetrius needs to learn. He will either win the fight or he will be beaten down. Both are lessons in their own way.”

The boys attacked Demetrius at once, hitting him on all sides. It hurt to see him outnumbered and being beaten, yet I forced myself to stand in place. He defended himself well, and by the end of the fight, he wasn’t the only one bloody and bruised.

“I never thanked you that day,” Axios said with a faraway look in his eyes. “So long ago when I saw the helot being kicked and wished to help him. You held me back. I see what would have become of me if I’d tried to stop it.”

“You need not thank me, Ax. Besides, you would’ve never been beaten by those boys.”

Axios arched a brow. “No?”

“No,” I agreed. “Because I would’ve stepped in and helped you.”

He gaped. “You would have fought against Spartan youths for a slave?”

“Not for a slave.” I stepped closer and touched his jaw. “For you. Any man who dares lay a hand on you will always answer to me.”

Warmth filled his eyes as he pressed his cheek to my palm. We then walked over to Demetrius to check his injuries. I had carefully watched the fight, making sure none of the blows had been fatal. My training sessions were much worse than the fight he’d just had, so I knew he was fine but wished to see him anyway.

“Eryx. Axios,” Demetrius said, swiftly rising from the dirt to stand. Blood trickled from his nose and oozed from his cut lip. But he stood tall.

“You fought well,” I said, nodding.