The Fire of Ares Read Free Page B

black hellebore. You’ll need to crush a small handful of these with sap from poppy seeds, thenbring the mixture to boil in some water. The hellebore should help her chest, and the poppy will ease her pain and help her sleep. It will not taste nice, but then what do the Spartans say?
Do not trust a doctor who prescribes honey.
’
    â€˜I wouldn’t trust a free-dweller at all,’ whispered Timeon, under his breath. Lysander suppressed a smile.
    When the owner had wrapped the precious leaves in a small cloth bag, he placed it on his side of the counter.
    â€˜And now, for payment?’ he enquired.
    â€˜I have grain,’ offered Lysander, holding up one of his sacks.
    The owner reached over and took it from Lysander’s hand, peering inside.
    â€˜Very good,’ he said, pausing to look into Lysander’s other hand, ‘and that one as well.’
    Lysander was not sure if he had heard correctly.
    â€˜But … but last time it was only one, and that was expensive! The price can’t have doubled in a week.’
    The physician slammed his fist down on to the counter, upsetting the pestle and mortar and sending seeds scattering across the floor. Timeon let out a gasp.
    â€˜Listen, boy, these ingredients are more expensive and I’ve got grain enough to fill Mount Olympus,’ he spat. ‘When you start paying in proper currency – iron – like everyone else, then
you
can dictate prices to
me
. Now pay what you owe or take your filthy Helot grain out of my shop and watch your mother die!’
    For a moment, Lysander thought of grabbing the medicine and running, but the look on Timeon’s face convinced him otherwise. Whereas Spartan children were encouraged to steal as part of their survival training, life as a Helot was very different. If Lysander was caught, death was almost certain. Lysander placed his other sack of grain on the table and took hold of the wrapped medicine.
    â€˜Let’s go home,’ he said to Timeon.
    It was dark as the two friends parted company outside a baker’s. The smell of fresh bread made Lysander’s mouth water. He knew that there were only stale crusts waiting for him at home, probably spotted with blue and green mould. He said farewell to Timeon, gripping his forearm, as was the Helot custom. His friend leant forward and spoke in his ear.
    â€˜Remember what I said, Lysander. We have to do the best with what we’ve got – each other and our families.’ As he drew away, he pressed a small bag of his own grain into Lysander’s hand. Timeon started to walk away, but called back over his shoulder, ‘Don’t worry, my family are all working. You need it more than us.’
    Tears of gratitude gathered in the corners of Lysander’s eyes. But there was also sadness: Timeon’s close family were all alive and in good health. Lysander and his mother had only each other. His father was dead even before he was born. He shook himself and set off to buy provisions.
    Most of the stalls in the centre of Limnae had closed up for the night, so all Lysander managed to get was some bread, hard green olives and dried fish. Still, it was enough. Lysander made for home in the dark. The sky was cloudless and the stars twinkled in clusters. As he scanned the sky, Lysander picked out the brightest constellation: Kastor and Polydeukes. The Spartans called them the
Dioscuri
, the Twins.
If all Greece worshipped the same gods, why aren’t all Greeks equal?
wondered Lysander. He uttered a prayer under his breath, the same one as always: ‘Warrior sons of Zeus, let me be free.’
    With a last glance at the night sky, Lysander set off towards a short cut he knew beside the slaughterhouse. He could not remember the last time he and his mother had been able to afford fresh meat. But maybe Timeon was right. Perhaps life was not as bad as he thought. With the medicine, his mother would get better and be able to work