Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1)

by J. F. Danskin

  Ajax gripped the handle of his sword, but Troy raised his hands again. “No problem,” he said. “We have only peaceful intent. But if you could give us some water…?”

  The man shrugged. “We have a well, of course. But you can get it yourself. And don’t dirty it.” With this, he turned and walked away as well, leaving the hoplites following in his wake.

  * * *

  The center of the village was quiet; Troy reflected that the local people must either be in their houses or out, fishing and foraging. Troy also saw another update, and it was clear from their expressions that the others were seeing it, too:

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: A safe village on your way. You gain 10xp!

  The well was obvious to see, at least, as was the wooden pail attached to its rope. Gathering round, the hoplites began to lower it down, with Glaucus taking charge.

  Just then, the older man who had met them outside of the village emerged from one of the houses and hurried towards them. “Get your hands off that bucket,” he called out crossly. “There is a process that must be followed.”

  “But, uh… the younger guy said to get it ourselves,” said Glaucus, looking dismayed.

  The man did not respond directly to this, instead snatching the rope from Glaucus’ hand, and pulled the bucket clear. He then began to peer at the rope, passing its length through his hands while the pail dragged in the dirt at his feet.

  “We didn’t do anything to it, man,” said Plato. “I promise. We’re just thirsty, and out of water.”

  “So,” said the man, his big beard quivering as he glared at the recruits, “you decide to make free with our well and our tools. What else do you plan to help yourself to, huh? Our fruit trees? Or our supplies of fish?”

  As they were speaking, Troy frowned, looking over towards another of the village houses. There was a woman standing outside it, and she looked very familiar to him. He tried to place her. Not the training ground… and not here in the village. No. But he had seen her before, and it felt like it was within the last few days. He strained to remember. Could he know her from the real world, from Technoburbia? No. That felt too long ago.

  And then it came to him. This was the same woman who had stood on the steps observing while he, Plato and Clio had struggled with the Myrmidon warrior. She was a Spartan citizen. Or so he had presumed at the time.

  Leaving his companions to negotiate with the aggressive village chief, Troy passed his waterskin to Plato and then walked over to where the woman stood. She was still observing him from the front step of a house. Her own house? It was hard to say.

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

  “I recognize you,” said Troy, shading his eyes as he approached.

  “Aye, you do,” she said inscrutably, grinning in a way that revealed uneven teeth. “From the city. I expected to see you again sooner.”

  He smiled. “I thought as much – you’re a Spartan.”

  This time she shook her head, and then grinned again.

  “Well, I saw you when we were evading that warrior,” said Troy. “Thank you for not alerting him to us that day.”

  She shrugged. “Not my business. Now, come with me, lad. I have something to show you inside.”

  Troy felt instantly suspicious. Was she trying to lure him away from the team? Was this a challenge built into Sparta Online? “Well, lady, I’m sorry but I can’t do that. My friends and I need to be going soon. We are to hunt the deadly hydra in the wetlands up north.”

  She narrowed her eyes, glancing briefly in the direction of the coast before looking back at him. “That beast is no concern of the Spartans,” she said, “but if you must, then let me share some lore about its habits while we speak.”

  Troy glanced back around at his friends; they were still arguing with the big-bearded man. Would they be able to get their point across? If not, then perhaps this woman could help, as she looked to be at least a couple of years the man’s senior.

  “All right,” he said, stepping up. “Tell me what you know.”

  Inside, the house was formed of a single room, but there were partially separated sleeping areas set into the sides where the roof was at its lowest points. In the middle was a large table such that a family of at least eight could eat, and at the back of the room several much smaller tables up against the wall, all of them cluttered with pots, vials, and jars. There were no other family members in sight, however. Bunches of herbs and roots hung from the ceiling, and there was a soothing, sweet smell in the place.

  “I am called Harmonia,” she said. “I am well-versed in the lore of mysterious creatures such as the hydra, though that is not why I wanted to speak to you.”

  “Why then?”

  She beckoned to him, leading him over towards the cluttered tables at the back. “People avoid me, because they think I am a witch,” she said. “In truth I have learned to do some mysterious things. But I understand the reasons behind that. We live in a dream world.”

  Troy smiled. “I see. You were put here by the captains, then? You are a part of our training.”

  She let out a little peal of laughter. “Not at all. I am a villager. No doubt I was put here just for variety by the great creators, or perhaps as a quest for some Spartan to kill. But I have other plans. Ones that don’t involve you returning to your real city.”

  “Then you know…”

  “That this place isn’t real? Yes, I know. I figured it all out. Visiting Sparta, listening to the hoplites. Then I read some of the letters that I found near the training ground. I’ve seen enough to know that recruits who are killed do not return like other people do. That girl that you were with that day – she’s been here a while. There were more of her group before. Poor girl. She has really suffered.”

  Troy frowned. “I don’t believe that you really know Clio. She would have mentioned it to me.”

  She narrowed her eyes, gazing at him intently. “I observe from a distance, like you do. As I say, she has had a tough time… though not the worst.”

  Thinking, Troy strode away across the single-room dwelling, then turned as he approached the side wall. “So, you want me to explain to you what has happened, or something? Where I came from? Do you want clarity? Or revenge?”

  She shook her head slowly, then moved over to the table. There, she picked up four small vials, each of them containing a colored liquid. She then turned back to him. “Troy, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  She showed her crooked teeth again, smiling to herself. “Such a nice, unusual name.” As he started to speak, she raised her hands. “No, no. You don’t need to explain, Troy. I have the clarity I need already. In fact, I want to help you. In the future, you will help me in turn. But for now, all I ask is that you accept these as a gift.” With this, she pressed the four vials into his hands. Each one glittered as if the liquid within had flecks of gold and silver suspended inside. Each one contained a substance of a different color; one was yellow, one almost perfectly white, one a deep red, and the final one, purple.”

  “What are they?”

  “They provide certain enhancements. One for each of you.” She pointed to the door as she spoke. Without them, you will almost certainly fail in your quest, and be killed by the hydra.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You think they would send us to our deaths?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? It has happened before. Or why aren’t there more hoplites still alive?”

  He looked down at the vials.

  “These are magic?”

  “Anything is possible, young man. This is a world of the imagination.”

  “Thank you. But you said you had information about the hydra. We don’t even know exactly how to find it.”

  “With luck, your friends will now have gained the information you need about that. Seek out the heart of the swamp. The headman of this village can tell you more.”

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

  “They were just arguing…�
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  At that moment, though, Troy heard a shout outside, and he hurried towards the door and looked out.

  “Come on,” called Plato. “We got some directions.”

  The boys were now standing to the north of the village center, clearly impatient and ready to go.

  “You see?” Harmonia had stepped closer. “So, you agree to my terms,” she added, pointing to the vials.

  “Yes, I agree, thanks…”

  As he tucked them carefully into his shoulder bag, she nodded. “Good. Then it is a deal. Ensure that you drink the white-and-purple one yourself, for it is the most powerful.”

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

  Troy looked back outdoors. “Oh, our water…” he began.

  “They filled up their waterskins,” she said. “Yours too.”

  Unsure how on earth Harmonia could know that, for they had been in the house the entire time and unable to see the well, Troy murmured his thanks once again, and then walked outside.

  And soon the four hoplites were on their way again.

  Level: Hoplite (Level 3)

  XP: 0545 (unspent: 0095)

  Hit points: 25/25

  Luck points: 1

  Equipment: belt; canvas bag; coin pouch; dagger; greaves; iron hatchet; rations (1); unidentified potion (4); waterskin (100%); wooden club.

  Chapter 18: The Edge of the Swamp

  “Let’s check that place out,” said Troy. “There could be something worthwhile inside.”

  The swamplands lay ahead; the four hoplites had smelled the vast and murky waterlogged area before they saw it.

  Having left the village they had followed a hunters’ path through some low hills. Since then, the ground had been descending as they went. The path had gradually deteriorated into a muddy morass, with boggy ground gradually closing in on all sides as they proceeded. The weather had also changed from the usual uniform sunshine to cloudy and cool.

  Not long after leaving the village they had passed a couple more stone houses near the foot of the hills, but then no further dwellings for a long while. Nor had they passed any further locals or travelers. Nobody could live out here, it seemed.

  Now they had reached a lone wooden hut which, by its rotten and waterlogged state, looked as if it hadn’t been occupied for many years.

  “I’m game,” said Troy, pulling out his hatchet.

  “Me first,” replied Ajax. The big recruit pushed past Troy, thumping into the wooden doorway. And then he gasped, taking a step back. “It’s the hydra!”

  He turned, squelching back several yards across the mud, and then stopped around twenty yards away, pulling out his sword, his face redder than ever.

  Frowning, Troy raised his hatchet and used it to gently push the door open. The ground inside was of bare earth with the vestiges of straw around the edges. And at one side, a nest of snakes could be seen, the heads of the small reptiles rearing up in response to the unexpected light from the door. Each one was no more than the length of his forearm.

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

  “They’re just snakes,” said Troy, with a slight chuckle. “The hydra is at the heart of the swamp, like I told you. Not in a hut.”

  “Yeah,” said Glaucus, walking towards his friend. “The monster lives near a ridge, right?”

  “Let’s take a look at these snakes,” said Plato, stepping up. He shielded his eyes from the outside light and crouched slightly at the doorway. “Hmm. Juvenile grass snakes, I believe. They pose no threat to us. And what’s more, they’re edible.”

  “You’re not suggesting…” began Glaucus.

  “I know it sounds disgusting,” said Troy, looking back towards the others, “but we are going to need to eat before we get back to Sparta.”

  “No. No way. I hate snakes,” said Ajax.

  Plato and Troy exchanged a glance. “You know this hydra that we are hunting,” said Plato, now looking at Ajax and speaking slowly, “it is said to look like a nest of snakes, right enough. Multiple heads. Except they are much bigger, and come from a single body like that of a gigantic crocodile.”

  “I’m out then,” said Ajax shaking his head and dropping his sword to the ground. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”

  Plato looked to Troy. “What’s our play here?”

  Troy glanced inside. “You’re right about the snakes. It’s gross, but we need food. I feel bad for the little guys, but food is food. Spartans are supposed to forage, right? To be tough?”

  “Right. And this is just a simulation. They’re not real animals.”

  “Okay. If you take care of the snakes, I’ll help you prep and cook them. And as for Ajax, I have an idea.”

  Soon the deed was done, and the boys had snake-meat skewers ready for cooking – but no way of heating them. All of the wood nearby was waterlogged, and they had no flint and steel or any other means of lighting a fire.

  Troy went inside to search the hut more thoroughly. While it did certainly appear long-since abandoned as a dwelling, there may have been occasional visitors, he realized, perhaps hunters or other wayfarers. In any case, someone had hung a royal-blue velvet cloak on the back of the door, and recently, for it was neither decayed nor damp. He decided to take the garment as an extra blanket.

  Who knows how cold it would be in the center of the swamp?

  He also found a small wooden box which was atop a moldering table; the table itself was close to collapse due to rot, but the box was in fine condition. It was made of a red, shiny wood, and delicately carved. He carefully lifted the lid with his knife, and then was glad that he had done so, for a spring trap was released; a spike whirled around and stabbed into the area just beside the blade – the area where a person’s hand would be, if they had opened the box conventionally.

  Skill boost! You have developed your survival skills. +5XP

  Inside was a small bag, and Troy prodded this tentatively by his fingertips. It was heavy, as if containing stones. He sniffed at it, and then snatched it out of the box, wary of any further hazards.

  Plato came to the door. “Anything that might help us to light a fire, man?”

  “No, Plato, sorry – it doesn’t look like it. But I did find this.” He nodded at the bag, and the nearby box.

  “What is it?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. But, uh…” – he glanced towards the others who were standing outside – ”let’s just close the door for a moment, shall we? I’m not ready to share absolutely everything with that pair.”

  Plato pushed the half-rotten door to, and then took a step closer as Troy opened the bag, and together they peered inside. There were around half a dozen golden objects within, each in the form of an animal. They had either been carved to these forms or cast out of metal; either way, the workmanship was astonishing.

  “Wow. Any idea what they are, Plato?”

  “Not really.” Plato tentatively reached inside the bag and picked up the first of the golden animals. It was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. “A panther,” he murmured, “and an eagle, a crocodile, a spider, and a cow.”

  “All of them look like solid gold,” said Troy softly.

  “Yeah. Or something that looks like gold. But either way, they are probably worth a lot at the market. Do you think they could be magical, too?”

  Troy suddenly thought of the witch, and then of the four potions. “I dunno, but I think it’s definitely possible,” he said. “Here – you take them. Keep them safe, and don’t show the others until the time is right.”

  Plato took the bag from his friend and began to sling it through his belt when Glaucus came to the door and pushed it open, looking suspicious. “Don’t show us what?” he said, looking from one to the other of his companions.

  Troy pointed at the wooden box. “I found a box – I thought it might do as firewood,” he said, “but it has a trap on it. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  Glaucus came in, and li
ke Troy he began to investigate the box with the blade of his dagger. “Interesting,” he said, “but you’re wrong. This trap has already been sprung. I think it might be possible to set it again, but…” The popping eyed boy trailed off, peering at the mechanism from different angles. “In any case, this box is fine craftsmanship – we can’t burn it.”

  “Well, help yourself, man,” said Plato, who had finished securing the small canvas bag to his belt. “Let’s go and eat some raw snake.”

  * * *

  The sun had now emerged again, and they sat back down in a circle, looking at the raw snake meat skewers which lay on the long grass.

  “I can’t eat that,” said Ajax, not for the first time.

  “Well,” said Troy, “we have no fuel. The hut is soaked through, and we’re on the edge of a swamp, so there is no way of getting dry firewood.”

  Plato reached out and rubbed some of the long grass between his fingertips. “This grass is pretty dry, though,” he said thoughtfully. “And the wax wraps that had the food in them must be pretty flammable. If only we had a way of igniting it.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone has any glass,” said Troy, glancing at the pattern of sunlight that was now dappling the ground nearby. “Or a magnifying glass, even better.”

  The others shrugged.

  And then, after a slight pause, Plato smiled, and began to reach into the pouch at his belt, and pulled out the sparkling pale blue gem that Troy had recently returned to him. “Might this work?”

  “Maybe,” said Troy. “And I do have this stick, I suppose.” He raised his wooden club. “I could use my hatchet to break it up, and cut some slivers and shavings…”