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Earth and Water Chapter Four |
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Lysis
Walking back towards the Persian
host seemed the longest journey of my short life. But a few moments before, I had been in the
presence of a true leader of men. I had
been embraced and found worthy within eye blinks of my arrival, without knowing
how. It just was. Leonidas had, by his very presence, drawn
from me my natural nobility. He had
reminded me of all that was valuable in myself.
I approached the enemy line with a
lead heart, knowing I could do nothing to help this man or his brave
soldiers. Xerxes and his troops could
not be stopped by any ordinary man or army.
Leonidas, however, was no ordinary man, nor was the aura of strength
that glowed from his men an ordinary spirit.
Perhaps miracles could happen.
Perhaps the gods wished it so. I
did not know. I only knew that my role
was as a prisoner, a spectator. I would
be as I had been in my only trip to Olympia
to watch the games there: an observer of
supreme effort in an atmosphere of unbridled truth and passion.
Demaratus waited for me beyond the
lines. He seemed to know the answer
already.
"What was his reply?" he asked
heavily.
"He will fight." I said.
He nodded. "And to what I sent?"
I told him what had happened and
Leonidas' response. He appeared for a
moment to shrink a little, to shed for but a breath his upright mien and assume
truly the years of his life. But it was
only for a moment. He straightened and,
letting his gaze stray toward the allied line, placed his hand on the hilt of his
sword.
"It is as it is, then. I will tell
Xerxes."
Without another word, he turned on
his heel and strode off towards the Persian king, who awaited him on the
rise. I followed, unsure of what to do
but not wishing to stand amidst an alien attack force. I could see Xerxes' angry gestures to his
commanders, and them rushing off, ordering the army forward. In the press, as I approached the hill, I
caught sight of pug nose, and my sense of unease sharpened noticeably. Obviously he had been watching me, and he was
clearly agitated. If anything, his dislike had turned to hatred. Or at least so it seemed to me. When he saw me looking at him, it was as if
whatever bonds had gripped him in inaction suddenly burst asunder. He leapt forward, hand on his sword, rage
coalescing on his broad forehead.
At that moment, several men seized
me. They picked me up and carried me
through the advancing troops while several in
the crowd jeered at me. Other men
interposed themselves between me and my would-be attacker, even as the army
surged forward. I could see him pinioned
and restrained and could hear his howls of frustration as I was dragged
away. My captors kept me moving until I
was near the shore and quite a distance both from pug nose and from
Demaratus. When at last they relented
their grip, they set me down in front of a Persian courtier of some
magnificence. His dress and attitude
seemed Asian to the core, but his face, lined, scarred, and battered, was oddly
familiar.
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