Athenian Steel (Book I of the The Hellennium) Read Free Page B

well-formed legs
buckled, sending her once more to the rocky ground.  She
raised a bare arm with palm open and fingers spread wide in a
warding sign.  Styphon saw her limbs subtly tense like those
of a runner on a starting line, saw that the fear in her eyes had
faded and become calculation.  He gleaned her intent and cried
to his men, "Back!  Back!"  
    Too late.  The animated corpse whirled
and lunged like an animal at a man standing opposite Styphon in the
cordon.  Her chosen target backpedaled, but the undead
assailant was too swift and succeeded in her aim of snatching his
shield.
    None of the men in camp had been armed at
the time the woman appeared, yet during the chase some had managed
to grab a short sword or hoplon, and because of that, now their
quarry had a shield, too.  She crouched behind the stolen,
bowl-shaped barrier in the center of the cordon, turning every few
seconds to present the hoplon's crimson lambda blazon in a new
direction.  The icy eyes that peered over its rim issued
silent challenge which none were inclined to accept.
    Styphon stepped forward, unarmed, open palms
upraised.  The she-thing faced him.   Stopping well out
of her reach, he met her gaze steadily, endeavoring to betray no
trace of the unease which the gods knew he felt.
    "Who are you?" he demanded.  He held
his breath for a moment to listen intently, and in doing so he
noticed that the woman's own breath was inaudible, even after the
considerable exertion of her flight.
    "What do you want?" Styphon tried next, but
again there came no reply.  Perhaps she could not speak, or
spoke only the tongue of some far-off homeland.  "We do not
mean to harm you," he offered anyway. 
    That reassurance, spoken in slow, clear
syllables, won him a reaction of sorts.  Her blue eyes flicked
away from him to left and right, scanning the audience of soldiers
and Helots that watched in rapt silence.  Styphon squatted to
bring his face level with hers.  Her knuckles remained white
on either side of the shield rim, but her eyes had calmed.
    "I command these men," Styphon said, "and I
swear you will come to no harm by them."
    Until Epitadas orders it , he thought
but opted not to add.
    The woman's gaze sank groundward and for a
moment appeared empty, like that of some old man whose body was
sound but whose mind had gone to pasture.  She maintained that
attitude for a few beats, looked up again, and spoke at last.
 Her voice was not the cackling of a harpy or the moan of a
restless shade.  In fact it was barely a voice at all, more
like the croaking of a tiny frog or the last rush of air from the
lips of the dying.
    "Lak—" the woman said, and choked.
 "Lak...e...dai...mon?"
    No doubt she had recognized the crimson
lambda emblazoned on their shields.  That didn't mean much,
for one could scour the land between Babylon and the Pillars of
Herakles and hardly find a place where that symbol was not known
and feared.
    "Yes," Styphon confirmed.  "We are men
of Lakedaimon.  Spartans.  I am Styphon.  Where is
your home?"  She stared.  "What is your name and who is
your lord?"
    No hint of understanding lit her pale eyes.
 Styphon's hope for a reply was waning when the woman
surprised him.
    "In the name of... Zeus Hikesios..." she
said in her raking voice, proving that she knew at least a little
Greek.
    "I have no power to accept you as a
suppliant," Styphon answered.  "The pledge already given will
have to suffice.  What say you lay down the shield?"
    Very slowly, with much hesitation on her
part and patience on Styphon's, she lowered the hoplon.  Only
then did Styphon remember that behind it she was stark naked.
 
    "Bring a cloak!" he called to any Helot.
 Shortly a tattered red garment was placed in his waiting
hand.  He held it open and advanced cautiously on the
corpse-woman, whose wary eyes held fast to him the whole way.
 Reaching her, he draped it over her bare, golden shoulders
before stepping back and addressing the