Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1)

by J. F. Danskin

  Illness: None

  Disease: None

  Hunger: 64%

  Thirst: 18%

  Hit points: 25/25

  He felt into his shoulder bag, not for the first time, and again confirmed that all of the food that they had received from the Helots had long since been eaten, and even its wrapping had now been consumed by the fire.

  As his hand reached around in the shoulder satchel, he once again felt the reassuring shapes of the four magical vials he had been given. What did they do, he wondered, and could this be the right time to use them?

  Just then, immediately ahead of him, Plato stepped on a rock only for his feet to shoot right out from under him. The youth landed hard on the surface, his back thumping into it and then scraping as he slid sideways and rolled. In less than a second Plato had fallen into the pool off to one side, splashing and yelling in alarm.

  “Plato!”

  Troy hurried forward, crouching on the large flat rock just before where his friend had slipped, and held his hands out to assist. Plato was now standing in a pool that came up above his waist, and in which several dead fish could be seen floating near the surface. He gripped both of Troy’s hands, and as Troy leaned backwards to balance his weight, Plato scrambled free from the murky water.

  “I’m all right,” he said, beginning to brush his hands at the brown cloak that he wore, which was now dripping wet.

  “Just as well you were wearing that cloak,” said Troy pointing. “Or you would have covered yourself in mud as you hit the rock.”

  “And then washed it off again,” commented Glaucus.

  Plato took a moment to squeeze the water out of his cloak. He then took off one sandal after the other, giving each one a shake and then restoring them.

  “Ready?” asked Troy, and his friend nodded.

  “Then let’s continue,” said Ajax from the rear. “The sooner we get this job done and get back to Sparta, the better. I’m hungry.”

  Glaucus was now staring down at the area of rock where Plato had slipped. “Wait,” he said quietly, pointing, and reaching out to hold Plato back. “That’s not mud.”

  Troy now stepped past them to the front of the group, and leaned forward to peer at the slimy mud-like deposit on the rock. “He’s right,” he said, glancing briefly behind him. “There’s something weird on the rock.”

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

  Plato then leaned in at his comrade’s shoulder. “What do you think it is? Blood?” He crouched and plucked a stem of swamp grass from the edge of the pool that he had just climbed out of, and then prodded it into the gloopy dark substance. As soon as he did so there was a hiss, and the end of the grass disappeared into the liquid.

  Alarmed, Troy looked around. “Your cloak!” he said.

  Plato had simultaneously realized that certain areas of the garment were likewise smoldering as if they had been dipped in powerful acid, and holes had now emerged in it despite its immediate dunking into the water. He rapidly unclipped the garment at his throat and then threw it down to one side, where it slithered into the pool once again.

  “I think the water helped,” said Troy, looking his friend up and down. “It might be just as well you fell in, actually.”

  “Yes.” Plato nodded. “The worst bits were above the water line.”

  “Are you hurt?” asked Glaucus, and Plato turned, looking at the pair behind him and then twisted around to look at his own back and shoulders.

  “My back hurts, but it’s probably scraped rather than burned, man,” he replied. “Like Troy said, it’s probably just as well that I went for a swim.”

  “So what is it?” asked Glaucus, who was still keeping his distance from the slimy substance on the rock ahead. Ajax was likewise looking suspiciously at the rock.

  “It’s not natural,” said Plato, “at least, it’s not like anything I have seen before.”

  “Perhaps it could just be some weird swamp plant?” Glaucus suggested.

  “No, said Plato, pointing at the pool, where the dead fish were still visible. “Too much of a coincidence. Look at the effect it has on animals. I bet this is something the hydra has done. It probably uses it for hunting.”

  “So the beast can spit acid,” said Troy, who had begun to lift Plato’s dripping and damaged brown cloak out of the water again. “Great news, people.”

  “The more we know about it, the better,” said Plato, taking back the cloak. “But that explains why that strange wanderer said that we’d need shields.”

  Glaucus was still looking nervously at the slimy substance, but Ajax pushed forward, impatience written on his face. “Can we get past it? If so, we don’t need to wait around discussing it any longer.” Sheathing his sword and holding his arms out to both sides for balance, he stepped carefully past the slimy substance, stepping only on the topmost ridges of the rock.

  Troy and Plato looked each other in the eyes, then followed. Glaucus, left behind, had no choice but to follow.

  * * *

  Soon the rocks themselves were getting larger and larger, and the times that the hoplites needed to leap from one to another were becoming less frequent. And before long, as the sun began to reach the horizon in the west, the granite beneath their feet formed into a single low ridge.

  “Could this be it?” said Glaucus, tapping at Troy’s shoulder. “The ridge we are looking for?”

  Troy looked around at the nervous recruit and smiled. “Hopefully not far, buddy. But I wouldn’t call this horse-shaped… or even large.”

  “It was a horse’s mane,” muttered Ajax, still proceeding at the front of the group.

  But Plato pointed off to the right, where another ridge could be seen on the other side of a scum-covered pool. “But what about that?”

  Troy followed his friend’s gaze, and saw that the other ridge rose as it veered off to the right, with much larger rocks discernible in the distance.

  “That does look better,” he said, stopping. “But how do we get to it?”

  “Wade through?” replied Plato.

  Ajax had stopped, and was looking back; now he shook his head. “No way. Just because you got wet, doesn’t mean we all have to.”

  “Besides,” said Glaucus, stepping closer still to Troy. “There are snakes in that water, and worse.”

  “Man,” said Plato, shaking his head, “we are hunting the boss of the snakes, remember?”

  Glaucus frowned, looking down at the green scum on the surface; nothing of what lay below could be seen. “All the same,” he said, we don’t want to ask for trouble.”

  Troy took a step backwards, looking in both directions. “That pool that Plato fell into – well, it wasn’t deep, was it? We could make our way through for a few yards as long as it was no higher than our waists. Or at worst, our chests.”

  “What about the quicksand?” asked Glaucus.

  “And I’m thinking that there is solid ground here,” added Plato, pointing. “Rock on one side, and rock on the other, so probably rock underneath, too. This is essentially a very large puddle. That’s why so much algae have gathered. It’s not flowing water.”

  “Hmm. Maybe,” said Ajax, shading his eyes and looking from one side to the other. “How’s about one of you goes first, then?”

  “I’m up for it.” said Troy.

  He crouched, and then moved down to a sitting position on the edge of the rock, dangling his feet into the water. It was surprisingly cold, and he prodded at it with his hatchet, but doing so failed to reveal anything about what lay beneath the surface.

  He looked again ahead and to the left; sure enough, the ridge of rock did rise in a much more promising way, with shapes in the distance suggesting large boulders or even hillocks.

  They had to go that way.

  Slowly, tentatively, Troy lowered his legs into the pool of water. What was the name of that kind of carnivorous fish, he asked himself – the kind that sometimes ate the residents of New Baravia if they went to
o far from their primitive hovels? Barracuda, that was it. And did they have those in ancient Greece?

  He clenched his teeth and lowered himself in further, feeling a cloying sandy mud around his ankles and then – thankfully – solid ground beneath his sandals. The water rose as far as his waist and beyond.

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

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: Into the swamp. You gain 15xp!

  “It’s not too deep,” he called out, and took a further step forward, away from the rock and out into the vast green pool.

  “There is no way I am going in there,” said Ajax sourly, standing with his arms folded.

  Troy shrugged, and then rearranged his shoulder bag, doubling over the strap to ensure that it hung in front of his body rather than dragging behind along the surface of the water; it didn’t have much in it, but he wanted to keep careful hold of it.

  He looked around, and saw that Plato had now also entered the pool. The dark-haired hoplite was holding his sword high up with the point downwards, as if ready to stab anything that came close.

  Troy took a step towards his friend. “Keep those gold figures safe,” he said. “If they fall in here, we won’t be getting them back.”

  Plato nodded.

  Troy glanced back. Behind, Glaucus was making a distressed clicking noise with the side of his mouth, but Ajax was now dipping his foot into the murky water.

  “Never mind them,” said Plato, gesturing ahead of him. “Look out for snakes, or any other nasties. If we just get through this…”

  “I know. Not far now.”

  It was still quite far to go, however; they were no more than a quarter of the way across the pool. Troy felt relieved that the depth had not increased by much – the water was still only just above his waist. But there was no doubt that it was getting deeper.

  They advanced in lockstep. Both boys held their shields up, unwilling to get them wet – though both knew that the risks, such as they were, lay below.

  “Can you see anything?” asked Troy.

  Plato shook his head. “I can’t see a damn thing. But I am sure that something just moved past my leg.”

  “Urgh. I just crunched something under my foot.”

  “Could be edible – a crab, perhaps?”

  “I’m not fishing around in there to find out.”

  The water was almost up to Troy’s armpits now, and the bag was getting wet despite his best efforts. He gazed ahead, looking at the ridge of rock that they were aiming for. What were they now… half way? He hoped so. Another crunch underfoot. Something was down there, that was for sure.

  Something then caught Troy’s eye, movement off to his right, and he turned and caught a glimpse of something skimming across the surface of the water and then diving beneath the green scum. Another water snake? A predator?

  “Hurry,” muttered Plato.

  Behind, he heard splashing and swearing; the others had made it in, and were doing their best to follow. Well – good luck to them.

  Plato was pushing forward as quickly as he could, now, and it was hard work to keep up. Each footstep was causing Troy’s legs to ache; just lifting his leg and planting it down again in the sludge was an effort. There may be rock down there, but there was plenty of mud and silt, too.

  But now they were really getting close. Plato was only five, ten footsteps away from the ridge, and soon Troy saw his friend begin to pull himself up, dripping, from the water once again, and turn towards him.

  “Come on guys,” urged Plato. “You can do it.”

  Now it was Troy’s turn to feel something moving down near his legs. He pushed on, and after what seemed like an age, he covered the last dozen or so yards to the edge, and reached up to Plato. Plato pulled his companion from the water.

  As they waited for the remaining hoplites to catch up, Troy and Plato did their best to shake off the worst of the pond scum. Mud caked both their lower legs, but their clothing and light armor was largely unaffected. Troy gave his shoulder bag a careful shake, unwilling to expose the potions within to the others just yet. Water was pouring out of the base of the bag and dripping onto the rock

  “Let’s start moving again,” said Plato. “It’s getting late.” And Troy nodded. There would be time to dry off further as they went.

  The rocks rose noticeably off the left, and the two dripping-wet youths moved a little further up that way, while keeping an eye on their comrades who were lagging behind.

  “Don’t go,” called out Glaucus, who was sticking very close to Ajax, and holding his bow above his head.

  Troy chuckled to himself, pausing to look at the pair. “I know it’s freaky wading through there,” he said, “but it’s all right, really. We made it.”

  “Just damn well wait there,” growled Ajax.

  Troy took a moment to squeeze out his hair, then shook his head. The sun was getting low. Or rather the simulated sun that correlated with the lightness programmed into Sparta Online, he reminded himself.

  Soon, all four were on the move again, carrying on along the rock, with no shortage of continued grumbling from Ajax in particular.

  “We told you that this was the right way,” said Troy, “so it’s time for you to shut up now, unless you want to apologize.”

  “Apologize!” cried out Ajax, sounding outraged. “What for? You split the party. And we still have no idea that it was even worthwhile. For all that…”

  “Hush!” said Troy urgently, interrupting and crouching down, raising his hatchet.

  “What?” hissed Plato, as the other two boys looked around nervously.

  “I saw something move up ahead. Something… snakelike. Come on.”

  He crept ahead. The granite at their feed widened and rose up into a ridge, and a ruined wall could be seen further ahead. Another abandoned village? It was difficult to say. Nor could Troy figure out from this angle whether the ridge would look anything like the mane of a horse. But it was more promising than anything they had seen so far.

  What’s more, he was sure he had seen something slithering down just beyond it.

  They crept up in silence towards the peak of the rock, Troy taking the lead. Soon, near the top of the ridge, he reached the remnant of a marble wall which was now only as high as his waist, with a ruined threshold beside it. He crouched behind the wall, and looked down to the other side. And when he did, he froze.

  There, ahead of them, was the hydra.

  Level: Hoplite (Level 3)

  XP: 0625 (unspent: 0175)

  Hit points: 25/25

  Luck points: 1

  Equipment: belt; canvas bag; coin pouch; dagger; greaves; hoplon shield; iron hatchet; rations (1); unidentified potion (4); waterskin (63%); wooden club (short).

  Chapter 21: Potions

  The beast was around twenty feet long, with five thick snake-like necks, each ending in a hideous head with rows and rows of sharp teeth. Its beady eyes glowed red, its scaled hide was blueish and tough-looking, and each of the fearsome mouths looked large enough to snip off a person’s head in a single bite – if not the entire top half of their body. The only positive thing to be said was that the creature didn’t appear to have noticed them yet, and was resting along the side of the murky river.

  Troy took his hatchet in his shield hand, holding up his other hand to indicate that the others should stop. “It’s here – stay low!” he hissed, gesturing. He then turned and slumped back against the half wall, reaching into his bag as he did so.

  The others had pulled their weapons and were crouching low as they approached. Plato and Ajax were now both staring grimly forward, swords in hand, steeling themselves to make a move. Glaucus, however, was looking terrified; he had thrown himself to the ground a few yards from the ruined wall, and buried his head in his arms.

  “Leave me here,” murmured the boy. “I’ve had enough. I can’t take any more.”

  Plato growled. “Get up, man. Now is when we need you the most. You’re a Spartan, and if we’re going
to take down the beast, we do it together. All four of us or nothing.”

  Plato and Ajax each took one of their comrade’s arms, and with a combination of gentle coaxing and pulling, they guided him to the wall, where he sat sobbing silently. From there Plato and Ajax both peeked over towards the beast, and then pulled back down, their faces stony.

  “Plato, take these,” said Troy, speaking as softly as he could as he pulled the four vials from his bag. “The old woman back at the village gave them to me. I think she’s some kind of witch. But she promised that they’d help us defeat the hydra.”

  Ajax sneered down at the vials. “What does some peasant villager know about the hydra?” he muttered.

  But Plato had peered closer. “Can I take a closer look?”

  Troy took a moment to raise himself slightly, taking one more look over the ridge and towards the hydra. It had moved a little further away now, and was swimming languidly alongside the rocky bank of the river. It didn’t appear to be aware of the hoplites.

  “Very well,” he whispered, looking back at Plato. “But be quick. I don’t know how long they take to work.”

  He handed the vials over, trying to avoid the little bottles clinking together as he did so. Glaucus had stopped sobbing and was looking up in their direction, as if a chance of salvation had been dangled in front of him, and he was poised to grab it with both hands.

  “I don’t know about this witchcraft,” repeated Ajax. “How’d you know that’s not just poison? Witches hate kids – everyone knows the stories.”

  Plato scowled, and shook his head. “I don’t think…”

  “Then why give us four different types?” said Troy at the same moment.

  The others looked at one another for a moment, but Ajax did not have a response to this point.

  “Look,” said Plato, pointing down at the vials in his hand. “There is a different word written on each one.”