Read Online Spartan by Valerio Massimo Manfredi - Free Book Online Page A

of dry grass for the animals and her thighs were bared: a sudden blaze rushed to his head
and his temples throbbed madly.
    What confused him the most was that Kritolaos didn’t need to guess at anything: he seemed to know Talos’ every thought. It was unbearable to be considered a young ram in heat! So, at
times Talos preferred to set out alone to listen to the skylarks and blackbirds or to lay traps for the foxes in the forest.
    Was this what it meant to become a man? Yes, this, but so much more: mysterious sounds resonating within, sudden tremors. Wanting to climb up to the highest peaks, to let out a yell and wait for
it to echo back from far off pinnacles. Tears in your eyes when the sun at dusk sets fire to the clouds, like thousands of lambs, fleece in flames, grazing in the blue and then dissolving into the
darkness. Your chest swelling with the melody of the nightingale and the raucous shrieks of the sparrowhawk. A desire for wings with which to fly far away over the mountains and over the valleys
glittering with silver olive trees; over the rivers, between the willows and the poplars in the scented silent night, by the pale light of the moon . . .
    These were the things that Talos, the cripple, felt in his heart.
    *
    One day, Talos was bringing his sheep down from the mountain to Pelias’ house so he could lend the old farmer a hand. The great feast of Artemis Orthia, when the young
Spartiates would be initiated as warriors, was drawing near. Krathippos’ house had to be put in order and decorated, the wood for the hearth had to be prepared, and a lamb had to be
slaughtered for their banquet. Talos had left home at the first rays of dawn, taking the path that led to the plain. He emerged from the forest just as the sun was rising above the horizon.
Suddenly he heard yelling from a nearby clearing.
    ‘Come on, Brithos, grab her! Hey, don’t let her get away, you slow-moving oaf!’
    ‘Get over here, yourselves, then. This little savage runs like a hare and scratches like a cat!’
    Talos sensed immediately what was happening. He shot out of the forest and burst, running, into the field where several horses were grazing next to a stream. Their masters, all young Spartans,
had encircled Antinea who was now at their centre, terrified, her clothing ripped and her hair dishevelled. Goaded on by his companions, the youth named Brithos circled close around the girl as she
drew back, clutching her torn clothes to her breast.
    ‘Hey, Brithos, let’s see if you can tame this little filly, too!’ shouted a boy with reddish hair and freckles, with a vulgar laugh.
    ‘Leave her alone!’ bellowed Talos, hurling himself into the centre of the circle, moving close to the trembling girl who clutched at his side.
    ‘What have you done, Talos?’ she sobbed. ‘They’ll kill you.’
    ‘Friends,’ shouted Brithos, recovering from the shock of the sudden apparition, ‘the goddess Artemis has shown us her favour today by sending us not only a fawn, but also this
goat!’
    Talos felt his blood boil in his veins and pound at his temples. He grasped his cornel staff with two hands, standing firmly on both legs.
    ‘Oh, but he’s dangerous,’ sneered another. ‘He has a stick! Let’s be careful not to get hurt or we won’t be able to take part in the initiation.’
    ‘So, who’s going to take care of him?’ asked a third boy.
    ‘I will,’ shouted the boy with the red hair advancing behind Talos, who reeled around to face him.
    ‘Oh, but he’s lame!’ yelled another. ‘It doesn’t count, Aghias, too easy!’
    ‘That’s all right,’ said the red-haired youth, continuing his advance towards Talos. ‘I’ll take him bare-handed.’
    The Spartan flung the javelin he held in his right hand to the ground and lunged forward. Talos dodged him and pivoted on the staff which he had planted forcefully in the ground. He tripped his
adversary and drove his heel into the back of the young Spartan’s neck,