Read Online Spartans at the Gates by Noble Smith - Free Book Online Page B

mount’s reins around the statue’s erection, adjusted the straps on his small pack, then stared across the field, past the olive grove, to a cluster of farm buildings in the distance. Suddenly the world swam before his eyes. He slumped to the ground with his back against the cool north side of the marble statue. He shut his eyes.
    â€œAre you taking a nap?” asked Kolax. “Great Sky-God! Are you joking?”
    Nikias ignored him, his thoughts drifting. He thought back to several days before he’d departed Plataea. His grandfather had ordered him to meet him at his offices. Thinking that he was being summoned for a tongue-lashing, Nikias had been surprised when his grandfather led him down a dark hallway to a portal guarded by armed men.
    â€œThere’s a man in this room,” Menesarkus had said. “And he’s worth his weight in gold.…”
    â€œNikias!” said Kolax urgently.
    Nikias shook himself from his reverie and opened his eyes. “What?”
    â€œYou were about to swallow a fly,” said Kolax.
    Nikias scowled at him, then got slowly to his feet, taking the horse’s reins from the herm statue. He started walking in the direction of the farmhouses, leading his mount.
    â€œWhere are you going?” asked Kolax.
    Nikias tripped in one of the cart ruts, falling onto his knees. The reins slipped from his fingers, and the Dog Raider’s horse bolted instantly and galloped across the road, heading north, away from the direction of Athens. Even Kolax was caught off guard by its sudden act of escape.
    â€œStupid horse!” cried the Skythian as he kicked his mount and took off in pursuit.
    â€œWait!” yelled Nikias, struggling to his feet. “Leave the horse! Come back, you idiot barbarian!”
    But Kolax ignored him, whooping madly as he chased the fleeing animal across a field, churning up a cloud of dust. Nikias watched with helpless fury as first his horse and then Kolax and his mount disappeared over the crest of a hill and vanished from sight. Nikias staggered up the hill, but by the time he got to the top Kolax was far away—a tiny dot riding hard in the distance, chasing another dot heading north. Nikias turned toward Athens. From this high vantage point above the road he could clearly see the Athenian citadel ten miles to the southeast. The Temple of Athena, where it sat atop the Akropolis, was plainly visible even from this distance. The brightly painted building shone in the sun like a beacon. He was so close now.
    He waited on the hill for the longest time, sitting on his haunches, focused on the temple, shivering with chills. At first anger boiled within him. But then it changed to concern. And then finally a wave of despondency overcame his soul. The Skythian boy was gone. Something must have happened to him. He would not be gone so long otherwise.
    He realized that his teeth were chattering noisily in his head. But his head was burning. How would he ever make it to Athens?
    He got to his feet and clambered down the hill and over the dusty field toward the farm. He could see the figures of women in the distance, balancing tall amphoras on their heads, moving to and fro from a well to the farm buildings. His feet felt as though they were cast of iron. He plodded on, mouth parched, while waves of nausea passed over him. By the time he got to the well only two women remained standing there—two old women in their sixties, veils thrown to the wind with their backs to him.
    The sound of Nikias clearing his throat caused the women to turn around with startled expressions. They gasped at the sight of him: pale, covered with dried blood, and his teeth chattering like knucklebone dice in a clay cup.
    One of the women pulled a long kitchen knife from a sheath she kept on her hip—a knife for cutting the heads off chickens, though it looked as sharp as any warrior’s sword. Nikias saw the blade shining in the sun, and the looks of