It was indeed Leonidas.  He turned and led me through a line of stolid hoplites that parted as he approached, eight ranks deep and bristling with the standard eight-foot iron-tipped cornel wood spears.  We stopped near the wall, and I found myself surrounded by a protective guard of red-cloaked warriors.

 

Leonidas removed his gleaming bronze helmet- one of the older Corinthians, the ones with room for the ears to hear.  A helmet like my own, like my father's.  He revealed a handsome face marred by a crooked nose, broken perhaps in some fight in years past.  His eyes were piercing grey and his cheeks and square jaw were rugged, marked by long wear and many worries.  He looked me over, noting my barely healed slashes.

 

"What is your name, son?" asked the king.

 

I drew myself up, once again in the presence of royalty, yet I couldn't help but note the difference.

 

"Lysis, son of Androcles," I replied.

 

"And you were with the fleet?"

 

"Yes, your highness.  My ship was captured yesterday and my entire company was slain."

 

Leonidas nodded slowly.

"I am sorry for that," he said.  "We have heard nothing here.  How goes it on the sea?"

 

I felt the escort all around the king lean forward expectantly.

 

"I'm not certain, Sire," I replied.  "We were in the middle of it, but from what the Persians said, I think we beat them.  I think we can hold as long as necessary."

 

I could sense a collective sigh.

 

"That is certainly good news.  Now, what is in your messages?"

 

I handed him both Xerxes' papyrus scroll and Demaratus' wax tablet.  He broke the seal on the scroll first and moved further back in the ranks, back toward the wall.  He seemed to read quickly through its contents.

 

"Hmm," he breathed.  "It seems the Great King offers us our lives in return for our surrender." He looked around at his body guard.  "What say you gentlemen?  A fair trade?" Laughter and grim smiles greeted this remark. "Indeed," said the king.  "They are formidable warriors, these Persians.  It is said by some that their archers are so many, their arrows block out the sun."

 

"That may be true, your highness," I blurted out.  "I saw at least 10,000 lined up behind these troops you see in front."

 

There were low whistles that greeted this remark, and I could see heads turning and looking at one another.

 

"Well then," a gravelly voice interjected, "so much the better.  We will fight them in the shade!"

 

The king led the laughter this time. "Dieneces," he said.  "As usual, you do yourself and your country honor!  Let us see what shade the morning brings!  Now, Lysis, what of this other?"

 

I had joined in the general laughter, all the while feeling my heart lighten, just a little.  These men were themselves every bit as formidable as their reputation.  They bore no scent of fear.

"It comes from Demaratus, your highness.  He says to tell you ‘Gorgo's way will turn the key.'"

 

The king paused for a moment, looking at me keenly.  "He said that?"

 

"Yes, your highness."

 

"Give me a moment, then."  He opened the tablet, scanned the lines in the wax perfunctorily, and reached to his sword belt to remove a beautifully wrought iron dagger.  Taking the knife, he began at the top of the tablet and gently scraped away the layer of waxt,  shards falling to the sand at his feet.  When he was done, he replaced the dagger and stared intently at the wood face of the tablet.

 

"Interesting," he said. "An interesting proposition."

 

Raising his eyes to his now quiet companions, Loenidis stroked his chin, deep in thought.  Finally, slamming the tablet shut and handing it to me, he said, "Lysis, I will not write you a response.  Say this to Demaratus. ‘It is not in my power to do as you suggest.  Were it so and it were happier times, perhaps things could be different.  May the gods protect all the Spartans.'  Can you remember that?"

 

"Yes sir," I replied.  "He will get the message."\

 

"As for Xerxes," he smiled tightly, "We will give him our response ourselves." 

 

Turning then, he replaced his helmet and led me back through the line.  As he passed the men in the ranks, they acknowledged his presence with raised hands, nodding heads, and eyes that glinted adoration.  He returned their affection, calling out their individual names and exhorting them to stand tall on this day.  We came to the front rank and he offered his hand.

 

"Now Lysis, be off.  May we meet again." He fixed me with his powerful grip, his eyes boring into mine.  "You have done well," he said.  "The gods have saved you for some special task.  I feel it.  They will give you a chance once more to serve your country."

 

I bowed, overcome with emotion.  Then I turned, and made my way across the silent plain.