Legacy of Blood Read Free Page A

after Phalerius. ‘They like to see what novices are made of.’
    The Spartan threw the doors open, and a blast of warm air, thick with the stench of sweat and food, reached Lysander’s nostrils.
    About a hundred men sat along three long tables, while others walked between. Many of the men had scabs on their faces and arms, or scraps of their cloaks tied around their heads and limbs. On the table were loaves of bread, great wooden platters of sliced meats and several jugs.
    One by one, they fell silent and turned to scrutinise Lysander and Demaratos.
    Phalerius took his seat beside a man part-way along the bench. He wore a prosthetic wooden nose strapped across his face, and his eyes were black as charcoal.
    Peleus
, thought Lysander.
    Slowly rising from the bench, Peleus turned to face them. Silence swept through the room. ‘These are the two mighty warriors who took on the Persian general,’ he said.
    The men stared.
    â€˜Make them welcome, then!’ yelled Peleus.
    Suddenly the hall was filled with shouts, and the men shuffled down one bench to make room.
    Lysander and Demaratos took a seat, and wereoffered food. Lysander chewed on the ribs of a sheep. The men were soon absorbed in their conversations again.
    Good
, thought Lysander.
The less fuss the better
.
    â€˜So, how many was it, Phalerius?’ said one of the soldiers.
    â€˜Six, for sure,’ replied the Spartan. ‘But I took both arms off another, so he probably didn’t make it through the night.’
    â€˜He won’t be much good in a shield wall, then.’
    â€˜Not unless they use him
as
a shield.’
    Laughter rippled along the table.
    A Spartan with a jug under his arm walked along the table, and stopped by their side.
    â€˜A drink for you boys?’
    Lysander held out a wide drinking cup. The man poured the red wine clumsily.
    â€˜Make sure you mix plenty of water with that,’ said Phalerius. ‘Many a battle-hardened warrior has been floored by Peleus’ brew.’
    Lysander poured water into the cup, and lifted it by the two handles.
    â€˜All of it!’ shouted a Spartan. ‘In one!’
    Lysander was thirsty, but the wine was fiery and he had to take a breath before tipping all the dregs down his throat. As he placed the cup on the table and wiped his mouth, the soldiers cheered. The wine seeped along his limbs, and his aches and pains dulled to a soft throb.
    â€˜Your friend’s turn,’ said Peleus. Demaratos grinnedas the cup was refilled.
    Demaratos lifted the cup to his lips and took a long draught as two rivulets dribbled down each cheek and on to his cloak. He let out a loud belch.
    Typical Demaratos
, Lysander thought, smiling. He was always happiest surrounded by others.
    â€˜The boy is Dionysus in the flesh,’ said Phalerius.
    â€˜The God of Wine never held a spear,’ said Peleus. ‘And from what I have been told, these boys acquitted themselves like Ares himself on the plains of the Eurotas.’ He looked hard at Lysander and Demaratos and the room fell quiet. ‘They say you braved Vaumisa on his own vessel. Is that the truth?’
    â€˜We did,’ said Demaratos. ‘We took on ten men, and prevailed. We swam out through freezing seas, climbed the anchor rope, and rescued the Lady Kassandra. If you had seen Vaumisa’s face when we …’
    Peleus grinned widely. ‘What about you?’ he said, pointing at Lysander. ‘Anything to say?’
    Lysander lowered his eyes. He did not feel ready yet to find glory in the events that had unfolded on the Persian ship. ‘It happened just as Demaratos says.’
    â€˜A quiet one, eh? Well, Spartan valour is not measured by words,’ said Peleus. ‘We already know what deeds you have performed. Raise your cups, men, and salute these young men. They are true Spartans!’
    A deafening raucous cheer filled the hall. A cup was thrust into Lysander’s hand, when a