Free Soldier of Arete by Gene Wolfe

Hegesistratus) had devoured his heir.
    With drawn sword Tereus pursued the sisters. But Cynthia, who avenges the wrongs of virgins as her own, changed him to a black vulture, Procne to a nightingale, and pretty Philomela to a swallow, a bird whose tail has been cut away in the same way that Philomela's tongue was; thus it is that the one sings only when it cannot be seen, while the other flies too swiftly to be caught; for their foe pursues them always.
    And so it is also that Itys, slain by his mother to avenge the crime of his father, brings help to children, who suffer for reasons they are too young to understand.
    When Itys's history was finished, Hegesistratus had me stand between the altar and the fire. Murmuring invocations, he cut the necks of the pigeons, scattered their blood upon the flames, poured a libation of wine, and fed the fire with fragrant herbs. When these things had been done, he sang the paean of Itys, with Io and Elata for his chorus.
    The fumes of the fire made me want to sneeze and sleep; as if in a dream, I saw the youth Io had pointed out, a boy coming into manhood, with the first sproutings of his beard apparent on his face. His cloak was costly and of the east, his black hair elaborately dressed. There were rings of gold in his ears, yet his manner was furtive; and he appeared surprised when I pointed at him and asked why he had come to our sacrifice without taking part.
    Just then Hegesistratus asked if I remembered who he was, and I replied that he was Hegesistratus, the mantis. He asked whether I could run as fast as he; when I declared I could, he asked whether I might not run faster, and I acknowledged it was so. He asked if I also recalled the kybernetes, and whether I thought he could outrun him. I answered that he could not, and he asked me why.
    I said, "Surely you know."
    "Yes," he told me. "But I must discover if you do."
    "Because you're lame. You were wounded by the Rope Makers, or so you told me once." When I said this, Io looked surprised; I do not know why.
    Hegesistratus asked, "And where was I wounded?"
    "In the thigh."
    He nodded. "What do you think of my new winter boots? Are they well suited to running? Both of them?"
    I glanced at them and assured him that they appeared to be of excellent quality (which they did). "But like all footwear they're better for walking than for running. Every man runs his fastest in bare feet."
    "That is well said," Hegesistratus admitted. "Now, Latro, do you still see the boy you spoke to a moment ago?"
    Elata winked and pointed him out to me, though that was not necessary. I told Hegesistratus that I indeed saw him still.
    "Ask him how Oeobazus fares."
    I cannot say how the boy came to have word of Oeobazus, nor how Hegesistratus came to learn of it, unless someone mentioned the boy to him this morning in the market. But I called, "Boy! Stand nearer our fire. What can you tell us about Oeobazus, the Rope Maker who rove the cables of the Great King's bridge?" I knew who this Oeobazus was because the mantis had talked of him with our captain in the cookshop.
    "Oeobazus is not a Rope Maker," the boy replied. "He is a Mede."
    "But you know him," I insisted.
    He shrugged. "He is a Mede. We can't trust them as we do our own people."
    Hegesistratus told me, "You must repeat everything that he says, Latro." And so I did. When I had finished, Hegesistratus said, "Ask where Oeobazus is now."
    It was not needed, for the boy could hear him as well as I. He shut his eyes for a moment. "He is on a horse."
    "He rides," I told Hegesistratus.
    The mantis stroked his jaw. "Is he alone?"
    "No," the boy replied, addressing me. "Many ride with him, tall warriors with lances. A hairless man who looks very strong holds the noose about his neck." Seeing that Hegesistratus had not heard him, I repeated all this.
    "His hands are bound?"
    The boy nodded. "The cord is passed through the girth of his horse."
    "Latro!"
    Startled, I looked around and saw our captain,