Spartan Run

by David Robbins

  They had advanced for over 40 yards along the corridor, passing many doors en route. Directly in front of them loomed another enormous door, only this one hung open. Beyond was an incredibly immense chamber packed with Spartans, both men and women, as well as a few children and Helots. A dozen soldiers were posted just outside, all at attention.

  “This is the audience chamber,” Captain Chilon disclosed.

  One of the soldiers stepped forward, blocking their path, and saluted.

  “Halt, please, Captain Chilon.”

  The officer saluted. “Captain Tyrtaios. Is there a problem?”

  “You have strangers with you.”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re armed. You know the law as well as I do. Armed outsiders may not be admitted to the audience chamber under any circumstances whatsoever.”

  “I take full responsibility for them,” Chilon stated.

  Captain Tyrtaios pursed his lips and studied the Warriors. “This is most irregular. I trust you have an excellent reason?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then they will be permitted to enter, but six of my men will accompany you.”

  “Take, whatever steps you deem necessary.”

  Tyrtaios moved aside and pointed at six of his detail. As Chilon started forward again, Tyrtaios leaned closer and whispered, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I.”

  Blade scanned the chamber. A red carpet covered the floor except at the far end. There, on the east side, on a spacious dais, were a pair of matching gilded thrones on which sat men wearing full red robes and golden crowns. Behind the thrones, in a line from north to south, were ten more soldiers. Unlike the Spartans. Blade had encountered so far, these ten carried bows, powerful longbows, and on their backs perched quivers containing red shafts.

  Captain Chilon walked toward the dais, his shoulders squared, his horsehair crest swaying.

  Every man, woman, and child stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the newcomers.

  The two men on the thrones reacted differently. On the left sat a blond man who sported a full beard and bushy brows. He regarded the party intently, yet calmly. Not so the other king. An exceptionally lean man with black hair down to his shoulders and dark eyes, he leaped to his feet and jabbed his right hand at them.

  “Chilon, what’s the meaning of this? You dare bring armed outsiders into the audience chamber?”

  The officer saluted and halted a few yards from the base of the dais.

  “King Agesilaus, I beg your indulgence. These men are here on a peace mission. Please hear them out.”

  “Have you taken leave of your senses? I won’t tolerate a threat to my royal person.” Agesilaus shifted and glanced at the ten archers. “Kill them!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  For a moment Blade expected to have to fight for his life. He saw three of the Spartan archers step forward, notching arrows to their bows, and he draped his hands on the hilts of his Bowies.

  “Wait!” thundered the other king, Dercyllidas, who stood and gestured to the archers. “I say we should listen to the strangers. Captain Chilon wouldn’t have brought them before us without due cause.”

  King Agesilaus cast a hostile gaze on his fellow monarch. “And I want them slain immediately.”

  The blond king stepped to the edge of the dais and studied the three Warriors for a bit, then faced Agesilaus. “As a favor to me, agree to let them speak.”

  “And what will I get in return?”

  “I’ll owe you a favor, and you know I always make good on my debts.”

  “True,” King Agesilaus said, the corners of his thin lips curling upward.

  “May I claim this favor at any time?”

  “Of course.”

  “No matter what it might be?”

  “If it’s within my power to accomplish it, then I’ll do it.”

  “Fine. You may question the strangers,” Agesilaus stated, and gave a contemptuous wave of his hand as he sat down.

  The blond king placed his hands on his hips and regarded the giant critically. “Who are you and where are you from?”

  “My name is Blade. I’m here as an official representative of the Freedom Federation. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

  “I recall an outsider who made mention of such a name once,” King Dercyllidas said.

  “The Federation is an alliance of seven factions that are trying to salvage what’s left of civilization from the ruins of World War Three. Each member has signed a mutual defense treaty, agreeing to aid any other member whenever the need arises,” Blade related. “I’m here to extend an invitation to Sparta to join.”

  King Agesilaus came out of his chair again. “What? Sparta has no need of allies. What presumption! Perhaps we should send your head back to this Federation as a symbol of our independence and strength.”

  “Let’s hear him out,” King Dercyllidas suggested. “I’m interested in the offer. We should learn all we can before we dismiss it out of hand.”

  Agesilaus sighed. “Very well. Suit yourself.”

  “What are these seven factions?” Dercyllidas inquired:

  “The faction I’m from is called the Family. The others are the Free State of California, the Civilized Zone, the Cavalry, the Clan, the Moles, and the Flathead Indians,” Blade disclosed.

  “So the state of California survived the war?” King Dercyllidas said.

  “We’ve heard about the Civilized Zone, but not the others. Where are they located?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Why not?”

  “The exact locations of the Federation factions must remain a secret until we’re satisfied we can trust your people.”

  King Agesilaus took a stride and glared at the giant. “Trust us? Why, you miserable swine! Who are you to sit in judgment on Spartans? You’re not fit to tie our shoelaces.”

  “Calm down,” Dercyllidas told the co-ruler. “I’m certain he meant no offense, and I admire this Federation for possessing the foresight not to trust anyone blindly.”

  “You would,” Agesilaus snapped.

  “As Captain Chilon explained, we’ve come here in peace,” Blade went on. “As official emissaries we expect to be treated accordingly. If we should be harmed, the Federation will respond accordingly.”

  “Is that a threat?” Agesilaus demanded sternly.

  “No, a promise,” Blade responded, refusing to be intimidated by the pompous chief of state. “The Federation has successfully withstood attempts by the Russians, the Technics, the Superiors, the Peers, The Debtor, and many others to destroy it. We can field a combined army of over ten thousand troops, plus tasks and aircraft, on short notice. If need be, twice that number could be conscripted into service.” He paused and surveyed the chamber. “I reveal these factors not to threaten you or to try and put fear into your hearts, because I’ve learned that Spartans fear nothing. Rather, I tell you this so you can appreciate the gravity of the situation should you decide to oppose the Federation. Sparta might boast the bravest army on the planet, but bravery is no match for tanks and vastly superior odds. Consider these facts. Consider that the Federation would be honored to have Sparta as a member. And bear in mind that once you’ve joined, your enemies would be our enemies. Anyone who would try to crush you must first crush us.”

  “Tanks and aircrafts?” King Dercyllidas said, sounding impressed by the news.

  “I bet they don’t have a single measly tank,” King Agesilaus stated.

  “He’s just making these absurd claims so we’ll agree to his proposal.”

  “And what if you’re wrong?” Dercyllidas replied. “Would you sacrifice Sparta on the altar of your vanity?”

  Agesilaus turned livid and clenched his fists.

  Blade held up his right hand. “Please, I don’t want to be the cause of contention between you. Would king Agesilaus be satisfied I speak the truth if I provided proof?”

  The dark-maned monarch glowered at the
Warrior. “What sort of proof? Did you bring a tank with you?” he asked, and laughed.

  “We brought something better than a tank,” Blade stated. “And if you’re willing, we’ll provide a demonstration that should convince you of our sincerity.”

  King Dercyllidas smiled. “I, for one, would like to see this proof.”

  At least ten seconds elapsed before King Agesilaus spoke. He was deep in thought the whole time. Finally he nodded and said, “All right. I’d like to see the proof also. But mark my words, Blade. Should this be a trick, you’ll live to regret it.”

  Captain Chiton cleared his throat. “My lords, before we conduct the demonstration there is another matter that must be brought to your attention.”

  “Haven’t you done enough for one day?” King Agesilaus quipped.

  The officer pointed at Grennell. “This Helot has been arrested for possessing a firearm.”

  “Did you confiscate the weapon?” King Dercyllidas inquired.

  “Yes, sir,” Chiton responded, and snapped his fingers. The last soldiers in his squad brought forward the Martin 30-30. “Here it is. He’ll be turned over to the Ephors for disposition of his case.”

  King Agesilaus swaggered to the rim of the dais and bestowed a mocking gaze on the bound Helot. “Planning a little insurrection, were you, scum?”

  “No, your lordship,” Grennell responded in a pathetic whine. “I’d never think of rebelling against our wonderful masters.”

  “Did you use the rifle for target shooting, then?” Agesilaus taunted.

  “My family used it for hunting, that’s all, your lordship.”

  “Of course, my dear Helot.”

  Grennell looked at the rope binding his arms, then at Captain Chiton.

  His expression transformed into a mask of hatred and his lips twitched.

  He impulsively took several steps, until a Spartan stopped him, and blurted out, “Would you grant me leniency, good kings, if I tell you the truth?”

  “Do you really think we care?” Agesilaus rejoined.

  “Your fate is in the hands of the Ephors,” Dercyllidas said. “We can’t influence the verdict of the judges.”

  “But I have important information,” Grennell insisted.

  “Sure you do,” declared King Agesilaus, and pressed his left palm to his forehead. “Your prattling is giving me a headache. Will someone shut him up?”

  Grennell cried out shrilly, “But I do have information you’d want I know the name of a Spartan who is breaking the law by—”

  Acting more in impulse than logical judgment, Blade spun and delivered an arching haymaker to the Helot’s chin. The punch lifted Grennell from his feet and sent him sailing for two yards before crashing to the floor.

  No one else moved. Everyone appeared bewildered by the startling development.

  Captain Chiton stared at the unconscious Helot, then at the Warrior.

  “Why did you do that?” King Agesilaus demanded.

  “You wanted him to stop prattling,” Blade noted.

  “Yes. But what was that business about a Spartan who has broken the law?”

  “I have no idea,” Blade answered, lying to save the officer. “And I’ll confess, I’ve wanted to lay him out ever since he tried to kill us.”

  King Dercyllidas came halfway down the steps. “You say this Helot attempted to take your life?”

  “Yes. He tried to shoot us.”

  “I can substantiate that,” Captain Chilon interjected. “I spoke with a witness to the attack.”

  “This is most serious,” King Dercyllidas said. “I trust you realize, Blade, that the Helot’s action wasn’t sanctioned by the Spartan government.

  Helots aren’t permitted to own firearms. Do you know the reason he attempted to kill you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, the Crypteia will get the truth out of him,” Agesilaus stated, and nodded at two Spartans standing at the base of the dais. “Take him to General Agis. Inform the general he is to use every means at his disposal to wring this Helot dry, then turn the wretch over to the Ephors. I want to be informed of every word he utters. Understood?”

  “Yes, your lordship,” one of the soldiers said.

  In moments the troopers had hauled Grennell away.

  Blade noticed Captain Chilon gazing at him, and deliberately focused on the kings. “I apologize if I stepped out of bounds. As a Federation emissary, I should be on my best behavior at all times.”

  “You’re forgiven, this once,” King Agesilaus said. “Now about this demonstration of yours. What does it entail?”

  “I’d like to show you some of the capabilities of our vehicle,” Blade explained.

  “Where is it?”

  “Parked outside.”

  “Then let’s get this over with.”

  The two kings descended the dais, and were promptly surrounded by two dozen Spartans. As they made for the doorway, the crowd parted.

  Captain Chilon waited until the royal guard passed, then led the Warriors and his own squad out. He walked alongside the giant, and when they were going through the doorway he spoke in a hushed voice. “I don’t know why you saved me, but I thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How did you know about Erica and me?”

  “I can add two and two.”

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “Damn,” the officer said. “Well, I’ve only myself to blame for what happens after the secret police finish interrogating Grennell. They’ll arrest me.”

  “What about Erica?”

  “Helots are rarely punished for having romantic relations with Spartans. Since Spartans are required to be perfect models of self-control and discipline, we’re the ones whom the Ephors punish,” Chilon said. “At most, you’ve bought me some time. I only wish I could see Erica at least once before I’m taken into custody.”

  “Perhaps I can help there.”

  “How?”

  “Leave it to me.”

  Rikki-Tikki-Tavi nudged Blade’s left elbow. “When can I address the kings?”

  “After we’re done with the demonstration,” Blade answered. “Sorry. As soon as we’ve proven ourselves to them, go ahead.”

  They passed along the corridor to the outer door, which had been opened well in advance by the three soldiers assigned to the task, and the two kings led the way down the steps. At the bottom they halted and studied the SEAL.

  “What type of demonstration did you have in mind?” King Dercyllidas asked.

  Blade surveyed the open area. At the north end construction was under way, and a huge mound of dirt had been piled next to the foundation for a new building. “With your permission, I’d like to show you the firepower of our transport.”

  “Be our guest,” Agesilaus said.

  “Perhaps you should clear the pedestrians away from that dirt mound,” Blade suggested.

  King Agesilaus merely motioned with his right hand and instantly six Spartans hastened off to do his bidding.

  “And I’ll need the keys,” Blade told Captain Chilon.

  The officer handed them over.

  Blade turned to his friends. “Let’s go.” He walked to the van with Rikki and Teucer on his heels.

  “What gives?” the bowman queried. “Why are we doing this?”

  “The Spartans only respect power. If we give them a taste of the SEAL’s armaments, they might be more inclined to take the Federation’s offer seriously.”

  “Convincing Dercyllidas won’t be hard,” Rikki commented, “but the other one is unpredictable. I don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I,” Blade concurred. “We must try to persuade him, though, and this might do the trick.” He unlocked the door, then climbed in and unlocked the passenger side.

  “What was going on with Chilon and you?” Teucer asked as he took his seat.

  “Chilon and Erica Johnson are in love,” Blade revealed, inserting the key. He started the engine, wa
ited for Rikki to close the door, then backed up and drove to within 20 feet of the dirt mound. The soldiers were moving all citizens from the immediate vicinity.

  “What do we do if Agesilaus isn’t impressed?” Teucer questioned.

  “We’ll get the hell out of here,” Blade said.

  “Good. I don’t relish the notion of being thrown in a prison or forced to work in a quarry.”

  Blade watched the last of the pedestrians reach a safe distance from the SEAL. “Here goes,” he declared, and flicked the silver toggle switch that activated the 50-caliber machine guns. Almost immediately the big guns cut loose, thundering in unison, the rounds boring into the mound, dirt flying in all directions. The SEAL vibrated slightly for the duration of the ten-second burst. Blade switched the toggle off.

  “Think that’s enough?” Teucer asked.

  “No,” Blade responded, and activated the flamethrower. He saw a red and orange hissing tongue spurt from the front fender and strike the dirt with a sizzling crackle. He counted to three, then shut the flamethrower off. There was no sense in wasting the fuel.

  “Let’s use the rocket launcher on the Royal Palace,” Teucer suggested.

  “That should really impress them.”

  Rikki glanced at the bowman. “Have you been hanging around Hickok a lot lately?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Just asking.”

  Grinning, Blade returned the transport to its original position and killed the engine. Both kings, and many of the soldiers, were regarding the van in amazement. Agesilaus, oddly, abruptly smiled slyly and whispered a few words to the Spartan on his left.

  “Did you see that?” Rikki asked.

  “Yep,” Blade replied.

  “See what? See what?” Teucer wanted to know.

  “Do you want us to stay in here?” Rikki queried.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth. I’m leaving the key in the ignition,” Blade said, opening his door. He looked at both of them. “As soon as I step around the front of the SEAL, all eyes should be on me. Roll up the windows and lock the doors. If everything , is all right, I’ll give the proper signal.”