Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1)

by J. F. Danskin

  A vicious circle.

  “Are you already…?” began Troy, looking intently at Plato.

  His friend nodded.

  Canis, however, stepped to one side, following a gesture from the captain. “Still level one, boy?” called the captain, his voice growing softer and taking on a mocking tone. “How… unfortunate. While the others compete for the prize today, you will go to the Temple of Ares, where you can polish the armor of the visiting warriors. Understood? You should be able to pick up a few new skills that way.”

  Looking abjectly miserable, Canis began walking across the training ground and towards the Temple of Ares. One of the grandest buildings in the whole complex, the temple sat on the northern side of the rectangle. It had five huge ridged pillars at its front, and above them was a statue of the mighty and muscular war god, twice the size of a person.

  Despite their recent argument, Troy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he watched his comrade depart, looking weak and forlorn as he went. Had his own actions prevented Canis from gathering the experience points that he needed to join the latest task?

  Perhaps.

  But there was nothing he could do about it now.

  “Hoplites,” yelled Captain Theseus again, turning and stepping back to the main group, “your bodies don’t need to be strengthened in Sparta Online, but you do need to overcome the pain brought on by physical endurance. One day you might need to run all day in armor. For that reason, your task today will involve a race, carrying a heavy object. The first six to finish will eat a midday meal. The remainder will have to wait until evening before they can eat again.”

  SPARTA ONLINE WORLD EVENT: ENDURANCE RACE

  There was a groan from one of the recruits – Troy couldn’t see which one – but as Captain Theseus narrowed his eyes and stepped closer, silence reigned once more.

  “Any questions?” hissed the captain.

  There was silence again, and then Glaucus raised his hand. “Can we leave our weapons and armor in the dorm?”

  Captain Theseus didn’t dignify this with an answer, but just shook his head slowly. Troy wondered if this aspect of the task was designed to level the field a little, with this who had failed to gather any armor or weapons having a slight advantage. But then, why exclude those who had failed to level up?

  Plato raised his hand. “Captain? Sir. Shouldn’t we be working… together on some of these tasks? Cooperation, and all that?”

  Without responding straight away, Theseus rounded the group and walked up behind the rear row of hoplites that included Plato and Troy. He leaned his stubbly head towards Troy’s friend, putting his bulbous nose within a fraction of an inch of the boy’s neck.

  “I will tell you when you need to cooperate,” he hissed. “And from now on, if I ask the group if they have any questions, I expect you to keep your stupid mouth shut, understood? Nobody wants questions from idiots.” With this, he stepped back, smiling slightly in enjoyment at his own put-down, and then added, “I’ll let you know if that changes – but don’t hold your breath.”

  Troy gritted his teeth as the captain returned to the front of the group. Not only was this mean, it was a lie – Plato was clearly one of the smartest of the group, and a boy who always had the answer to any of Troy’s own questions. Besides, Plato was right – they needed to work together, and not always compete.

  The captain was a bully – that much was clear. What he couldn’t understand was why everyone else was putting up with it. Clio’s words of the previous day then came back to him. Was this training in some way broken – defective? Perhaps the captains weren’t supposed to behave this way. If so, then surely Andros would want to know. The guide had been helpful and friendly, and represented General Cook in the game.

  Yes.

  He should speak to Andros. And the sooner the better.

  “Hoplites,” shouted Captain Theseus, again using his parade-ground voice, and breaking Troy’s train of thought. “You begin in two minutes. First, go to the store building over there – the low one with the wooden roof. There, you should pick a log. You can carry this log in any way you choose, but you must carry it all the way along the route. After collecting your log, and on my command, you will start running. You will begin with three complete circuits of this training area, staying in the rectangle at all times and not straying more than a yard from the buildings.

  “You will then make your way between the two dormitories,” he continued, “and down to the longer outer path that runs right around all of the buildings of the training ground. Keep left at all times; do not stray onto the path that leads towards the River Eurotas, or the one that leads to the footbridge into the foothills of the Taygetus Mountains, or you will automatically join the group of losers. This part of the route must also be completed three times, after which you will return here.”

  Troy’s eyes followed the man’s hand as he pointed, and he wondered to himself how long the described route actually was – and how heavy these logs would be. The weight of the helmet was bad enough.

  “Off you go!” shouted the captain.

  As a group, they jogged off. The building that the captain had pointed to was to the right of the Temple of Ares. Its lower level was made of stone, and there was a double pitched roof made of pale-colored wood rising above. There were no columns on the facade; at the front was a wooden double door, and the group of female recruits were already streaming into it. There was no sign of any of the more experienced soldiers around the area, though Troy could make out the mighty figure of Andros at the far corner of the training ground.

  Soon they were at the building. Troy made for the side of the door, leaving space for two recruits to his left, but as he reached the opening, big Ajax turned towards him with a grin and used both hands to push Troy hard out of the way. Overbalancing, he went stumbling to the side, bumping hard into the stone exterior of the building, and cursing. It was all he could do to stop himself and avoid falling over completely.

  What a piece of dung that Ajax is, he muttered to himself.

  Moving back over, he made his way to the door, but it was difficult to push his way in as female hoplites were now starting to emerge, all carrying their logs. He could see that he would be last. Worse, the logs varied in size – was he going to be stuck with the largest and most uncomfortable of the lot? It very much looked like it.

  He squeezed in as the last of the girls was coming out, and gazed around the dim interior. The building was nothing more than a vast warehouse full of building supplies, and it went back a lot further than it looked. He could see planks of wood, barrels of various sizes, and blocks of stone of a similar type to what he had seen on the facades of most of the buildings. Interesting – they were in a simulation, so why would anyone need to repair or construct buildings, he wondered?

  The other boys were already at the far side, and most of them were starting to come back his way with logs teetering on their shoulders. He saw Plato, Glaucus and then Ajax. All of their faces betrayed the discomfort of holding the large logs while moving. And they had only just started.

  “Good luck,” murmured Leon, the last of the other eleven to move away, just as Troy was catching up.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling at the boy. Apparently Leon didn’t feel as sore about the previous day’s events as Canis did, and that was something.

  There were several logs left, at least. They were, indeed, all large, heavy, and knotted. What’s more, he had seen some of the others leaving with logs that still had stumps of side branches that would provide some kind of handholds. None of the remaining logs had anything of the sort – they were all largely smooth, and very awkward looking.

  Well, this sucked.

  On a whim, Troy slowed down and began to look around the space. Might there be another log somewhere that the others had overlooked? Or even a sawn plank that would pass for a log? If so, taking a couple of minutes to look around now would be worth it in the long run. He still hadn’t heard the ca
ptain shout to announce the start of the race.

  He moved along the back of the room, peering closely. Barrels – useless. A pile of tools… Troy crouched closer. It was hard to see in the dark, but there, under a couple of hand-cranked drills was a gleam of iron. A hatchet! This could be just what he needed.

  Skill boost! You have developed your creativity. +5XP

  Tory pulled the hatchet clear, and sprinted back over to the logs, sizing them up as he went. The smallest one was still a beast of a thing, there was no doubt about it, but with the hatchet he could at least cut a couple of handholds for himself.

  The first blow bounced off, but after a few more attempts to hit the same partly damaged space, he began to knock away a few splinters, and before there was a deep crevice in the wood. He had now heard Captain Theseus shout for the race to start, but there was no helping that now – he had to continue.

  He rolled the thing over and hacked at the other side. Two deep handholds would be better than multiple smaller ones. The next handhold split the wood, and a large piece flew off. But the less wood, the better! Troy kept going, one chop, and then another, and then another. He glanced towards the door in case Captain Theseus or Andros might interrupt him and see what he was up to. So far, though, he remained alone.

  Another couple of minutes had passed before Troy felt he was satisfied. With some regret, he put the hatchet down. It would be a lot more formidable as a weapon than the dagger was, but taking the thing out with him now, that would give the game away – and it would be yet another thing to carry.

  On the other hand, it would be good to have the option of coming back for it…

  Picking the tool back up, he hurried over to the area near the door, where several barrels were sat, all really large and heavy-looking. One contained only sand, and was around three quarters full. How likely was it that this would be emptied in the next day or two?

  He was willing to take the chance. He plunged the hatchet down into the sand. On a whim, he decided to hide two of the lapis gems in there, too – splitting them up would make them harder to steal. He then returned for the log.

  * * *

  Troy had worried that the rest of his group would have already done an entire circuit of the rectangular training area, but no – perhaps slowed significantly by their burdens, even the front-most runners from his dormitory were only halfway around, with some of the female hoplites just a little further ahead still. Hoisting the log over his shoulder and gripping the new handholds as best he could, Troy began to run.

  The next building he passed was the grand Temple of Ares, and Troy looked intently at the huge pillared building as he passed. He had never been inside, but he had from time to time seen experienced Spartan soldiers making their way in or out. Currently there was no sign of Canis, or of anyone else.

  Troy then passed two smaller buildings like houses or villas – residences for the captains, perhaps, he thought. He was now close to the end of the first longer side of the rectangle, and was already dripping with sweat. It was early in the day but already felt like the heat of a summer’s afternoon back home, and he glanced upwards towards the sun as he ran. Again, this was a goddamn simulation. Why did they have to make it so uncomfortable?

  He turned the corner. Ahead was a further villa with a stony path beside it, followed by the Bathhouse. Andros had moved to stand in front of the Bathhouse, and the big guide stepped back as Troy passed by, nodding and clapping gently. Troy felt a little encouraged by this. Was he gaining on the others? Perhaps slightly. Having the handholds and lighter log would surely make a difference, but only a little, only gradually. If he was to gain on them completely, it could take half the race, or even more. And he could barely imagine how sore his arms and back would be by that time.

  Soon he had passed by the Feasting Hall, followed by a large building with a sign of a snake and a staff engraved into it, something which he was fairly sure was the universal symbol of medicine from ancient times. So, this must be the House of Healing. For a moment, Troy thought he could hear someone crying in pain as he passed. But then he dismissed the thought. He must have been imagining it.

  Surely nobody would need to be in agonizing pain during their healing?

  By the second lap of the training ground he had started to hit his stride, feeling the rhythm of the race and enough energy in his legs. How large was the rectangle anyway, Troy wondered to himself? Perhaps a hundred yards long, and fifty across…? If so, that meant that they had run the best part of half a mile now, each carrying logs that must weigh forty pounds or more.

  Skill boost! You have developed your grit. +5XP

  By the time they had completed the third circuit of the training ground, the gap between Troy and the others who were closest to the back had narrowed significantly – it couldn’t be more than twenty or thirty yards. But it was at that point that the hoplites were directed down between the male and female dormitories and onto the marble steps that led down to the outer path.

  The captains had stopped near the top of these steps, just a few yards from the Elysian Fields dormitory, while by this stage Andros had moved further down still, and stood observing them on the path itself, by the edge of the familiar olive grove. The workers were also there, but were too busy harvesting the valuable fruits to pay the hoplites much attention. Troy saw the buildings of the city; the houses they had recently hurried past when evading the Myrmidon, and a bustling marketplace beyond.

  The outer path itself was narrow and stony, and Troy had only crossed a small section of it before – he had no idea how long it was overall, or exactly where it went. As he ran, he could see that it circled the broader area around all of the buildings of the training ground complex. From his perspective on the path, all of the familiar buildings of the training complex were up a slope that was covered in scree, rough grasses and thorn bushes. Clearly it would take them considerably longer to circumnavigate the area as a whole than it took to run around the simple rectangle they had been covering before.

  He ran on, following the path in an counterclockwise direction, and passing close to the Helot village at first before turning towards the north. There was a bit of very welcome shade from nearby pine and beech trees from time to time now, but for the most part the sun beat down directly upon him. It had also immediately become very hard for Troy to tell how far he was behind. All he could see was glimpses of his fellow runners every now and again. He was still last, that much was obvious.

  They were high up above Sparta, too, and as he ran Troy looked down and to his right, he was able to observe some of the more distant buildings of the city. It was hard to make out any details, but he could see many large houses and stone towers. To the east was a separate path which led down to a broad stone bridge over a river – this would be the River Eurotas which he had heard people mention.

  Skill boost! You have developed your knowledge. +5XP

  A long, narrow ship was traveling down it; he could see others, too, tiny at this distance, out in the bay beyond. No, not a bay. That must be the Mediterranean Sea. The center of the world, as people of the time believed.

  Trying to take his mind off the pain in his shoulders and legs, Troy looked around for any other sign of activity in the city down below. There were fields, vineyards and olive groves dotted around, and plenty of people could be seen laboring in these despite the early hour. He could also see riders with spears glinting as they rode along a distant road much further downhill.

  Hyparchos, he recalled – that was the word. Off to war?

  By the time the outer path had doubled back on itself so that Troy was passing the training complex on its north side, he had finally passed two of his fellow hoplites. And both times, he saw an encouraging notification:

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: Progress. You gain 10xp!

  He had a feeling that he would lose them again if someone overtook him and he lost his rank. But what were the XP for, anyway? Were they just for leveling up, or did they have some other
purpose? He really ought to find out. Plato would surely know.

  On this side of the path, the Taygetus Mountains were clearly visible. Looking to his left, now, Troy could see the Titan’s Rest, the building where he had first appeared, flanking one side of the small starting square. The building opposite it must be the rear of the storehouse, he realized. To the right, the mountains were magnificent – impossibly tall. Their slopes were dry and stony at this level, but higher up there were many trees and cliffs, and the peaks were still capped with snow.

  By the second lap there was little new to see, but he staggered on, trying anything he could to distract himself from the pain and monotony of the constant running and the weight of the metal helmet. He tried visualizing his room back home – in the real world, in Technoburbia. He pictured his old school, Urban Elementary School 0291, and the other kids that he used to play, argue and fight with. Tough times. Good times, in their own way.

  Soon Troy was close to completing this second lap of the large outer path. He had passed four further hoplites by this point. He was, however, in agony, and questioning his own will to go on. The only consolation was that it was clear that everyone else was flagging considerably, too. He could see ahead that many of them were now stopping to catch their breath for at least a few seconds at a time, trying to get their burdens more comfortable across their backs and shoulders. Each time he reached and passed another of his fellow recruits, he willed his legs to keep going just a little further, reminding himself that this was the reward for the time he had invested at the start.