Free The Fire of Ares by Michael Ford Page B

turned back to the fire.
    â€˜When he was twelve, Thorakis killed a wild boar with his bare hands. His mother – my wife, Jocasta – was angry that he had taken such a risk. He just had a few scrapes, but it could have been worse. He liked to pretend he was the hero Herakles, killing the vicious boar on Mount Erymanthos!’
    Lysander looked at his mother. Normally she would have been asleep by this time, but she was smiling in a way he had never seen before.
    â€˜After he … after Thorakis was killed, his mother put all her hopes in Demokrates. But when he too died three summers ago, she could not go on. She herself passed away soon afterwards. It is too much for a woman to lose both her sons …’ Sarpedon tailed off.
    Lysander felt his grandfather’s grief swell to fill the room. It was an uncomfortable silence, and he was grateful when his mother spoke up.
    â€˜After Thorakis was killed, I was afraid for you. It has been known for Spartans to expose such half-bloods along with the weak or deformed. To my surprise, Demokrates came to me with a gift – a beautiful red stone set in a golden surround.’ Lysander’s heart sank as he remembered the missing pendant. He saw that Sarpedon had looked up too. They met each other’s eyes for a moment.
Don’t tell her
, Lysander’s glance said; he doubted that his mother was up to hearing that the Fire of Ares had been stolen. Athenasia carried on: ‘Demokrates told me that Thorakis had wanted his son to have it. How he knew you would be a boy, I don’t know, but six months later there you were, Thorakis’s little son.’ She shivered and yawned.
    She must be exhausted
, thought Lysander. Sarpedon shook himself.
    â€˜You should not be in this cold hut,’ said the Ephor, rising to his feet. ‘Not when you are clearly so ill. I’ll arrange for proper treatment first thing in the morning – before first light. But for now I must go. It is just as dangerous for a Spartan to be caught in Helot territory as the other way around.’
    Lysander had never thought of it like that before. It made him look at Sarpedon in a new light. He was no longer the stern, gnarled warrior, but an old man out after dark in a dangerous place. Planting a kiss onAthenasia’s hand, the Ephor stooped to walk under the doorframe and was gone.
    Lysander remembered the secret Helot gathering of the night before, and feared for Sarpedon’s safety. He strained his ears for the sound of voices. Nothing. As he set out the evening meal of bread and olives, he made a new, silent prayer to the Gods:
Keep my grandfather safe
.

CHAPTER 10
    There was a light knock on the door before dawn. Lysander had hardly slept. Athenasia murmured and stirred under her blanket. Lysander opened the door hurriedly. An anxious-looking, middle-aged man stood on the threshold. He had short grey hair lying flat above a tall forehead. His tanned skin looked soft and his striking blue eyes flashed like opals in bright sunlight.
    â€˜The Ephor Sarpedon sends his greetings, Master Lysander. My name is Strabo.’
    â€˜Where is Sarpedon?’ asked Lysander. ‘Why didn’t he come himself?’
    Strabo gave a snort.
    â€˜You are still a Helot, and Sarpedon is one of the most powerful men in all of Sparta. It would not do for him to be seen around here too often. You will be lucky to share another word with Sarpedon.’ Lysander felt a stab of hurt, but Strabo didn’t elaborate.
    â€˜We can talk further shortly, but first I have broughtyou some breakfast.’ The man stepped inside, before Lysander could reply. Strabo unhooked a small sack from his shoulder and placed it on the floor. His eyes glanced around the shack. Athenasia awoke properly and sat bolt upright, staring at the stranger.
    â€˜Fear not, Mother,’ said Lysander. ‘This person has come from Sarpedon.’
    She peered closer. ‘Strabo, is that