Blade looked up.
Not 60 yards away was a lone Spartan, a lean man naked except for a red loincloth. He was running at breakneck speed along the grass bordering the road, heading in their direction.
“What’s his big rush?” Teucer wondered.
“Who knows?” Blade replied absently. He started the engine and performed a tight U-turn.
“Let’s hope King Dercyllidas is still alive,” Rikki remarked.
The reminder prompted Blade to floor the accelerator. They rode in silence until they came within sight of the two barracks, and then it was the bowman who shattered their individual reflections. “Dear Spirit! Will you look at that!”
Facing each other across the road, approximately 50 paces separating them, were the respective royal bodyguard units, each arrayed in phalanx formation.
Blade slammed on the brakes.
“They’re getting set to go at it,” Teucer said. “We could mow down Agesilaus’s men before they knew what hit them.” He didn’t sound too enthused by the idea.
Scrutinizing both contingents, Blade saw that neither displayed any movement. They were just standing there, either waiting for orders or for the other side to make the first move.
“We mustn’t be hasty,” Rikki advised.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Blade stated, and picked up speed, glancing from unit to unit. None of the Spartans bore firearms. Each soldier carried a long, glittering spear and something new, a large circular shield that covered each man from mid-thigh to the shoulder. On the front of every shield was depicted a strange symbol that vaguely resembled the capital letter A, but lacking the center line.
Neither formation broke ranks as the transport drove between them.
The Spartans might as well have been statues.
Blade took a left at the side street and drove to the barracks of Dercyllidas’s contingent, stopping near the dorm doors. No sooner had he turned the ignition off and left the SEAL than two Spartans emerged.
General Leonidas and Captain Chilon walked side by side, both with grave expressions. Each, perhaps unconsciously, had a hand on the hilt of his sword.
“We saw part of your fight,” Chilon said. “Did you destroy the two motorcycles?”
“Agesilaus won’t be using them against you,” Blade replied as Rikki and Teucer joined them.
“How is King Dercyllidas?” the martial artist inquired.
“Stable,” General Leonidas disclosed. “The doctor is with him now. Our liege was fortunate. The dagger came close to puncturing a lung, but he’ll live.”
“Your physician got here quickly,” Rikki commented.
General Leosidas pointed at a cluster of buildings to the east of the training field. “He lives in one of those. Each king selects a doctor who agrees to serve as the official Aesculapian for the bodyguard and is housed at government expense nearby. We sent a runner for him the minute you departed.” His gaze strayed to the gravel road. “And here comes another runner now, only he’s not heading here.”
Blade shifted and spotted the same lean man in the red loincloth he’d seen earlier approaching from the east. “How do you know?”
“All runners wear a red loincloth. And since he’s on the opposite side of the road, he’s undoubtedly delivering a message to General Calchas, the commander of Agesilaus’s contingent.”
“You should stop him,” Blade suggested.
“Whatever for?”
“He could be bearing an order for Calchas to attack.”
Leonidas shrugged. “So be it. The sooner the battle is over, the sooner all Spartans can breathe easier. I would rather engage Calchas now while my men are prepared.”
“Is that why your troops are in formation near the road?”
“Yes. Both sides are awaiting the command to attack. King Dercyllidas is unconscious and not to be disturbed until morning or we would have done so by now.”
“Why can’t you lead your men?” Blade asked.
“I will when the king instructs us to wipe out Agesilaus’s forces.”
“And in the meantime you stand around and do nothing? Haven’t you heard that the best defense is always a good offense?”
“I believe in the same strategy, but my hands are tied. Unless attacked, I must await Dercyllidas’s directions.”
Blade opened his mouth to tell the Spartan he was being foolish, then changed his mind. Antagonizing the man would be counterproductive.
Instead, he decided to make his offer. “We could rout Agesilaus’s men for you.”
General Leonidas glanced at the giant. “Using, your vehicle, I assume?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Need you ask? Spartans have a code of honor, and I won’t violate that code under any circumstances.”
“Not even if doing so would save the lives of your own men?”
“A Spartan has no fear of dying. To be slain in combat is the ultimate honor, and those who perish on the field of battle have their names duly enshrined on the plaque of distinction to commemorate their bravery and loyalty for all eternity,” Leonidas said.
“I wish you would reconsider.”
“Never. And I formally request, man to man, that you don’t interfere once the battle is joined.”
“And if your side is defeated?”
“Then such is the will of the Creator. But don’t count us out yet. My troops are every bit as skilled as those under General Calchas.”
Blade frowned and placed his hands on his hips, annoyed at the senior officer’s obstinate attitude. While he found much to admire in the Spartan character, their stubborn persistence in adhering to tradition at all costs was extremely aggravating.
“Don’t look so upset,” Leonidas said. “Surely a fighting man such as yourself can appreciate our military philosophy.”
“Yes and no.”
“Where do we fall short?”
“You won’t take advantage of all the forces at your disposal. As a result, if Agesilaus triumphs, Sparta will be thrown back into the equivalent of the Dark Ages. The leaders of the Federation will be severely disappointed.”
“Ah, yes. The Federation. Captain Chiton has been telling me about it. I think the idea has merit, and I’ll push for Sparta to join once this conflict has been resolved.”
“Excuse me,” Teucer interjected. “I’d like to ask a question.”
“Go ahead,” General Leonidas said.
“I couldn’t help but notice all those archers on the dais at the Royal Palace, and as a bowman I’m naturally interested in such things,” Teucer mentioned. “Why were there archers guarding the king? Why not soldiers armed with machine guns?”
“Years ago there were men posted in the audience room who were armed with automatic weapons. Then one day three Helots tried to assassinate one of the kings. The guards opened fire, and in the act of slaying the Helots they accidentally hit a half-dozen bystanders. A machine gun is impossible to control in a crowd. No matter how good a marksman a man might be, he can’t prevent stray rounds from striking those who are standing near the target,” Leonidas said. “After that regrettable incident, the decision was made to employ archers on the dais.
There are also riflemen concealed behind the walls.”
“There’s something I’d like to know,” Blade said. “Who started Sparta?”
He hoped to elicit more information about its origin.
“There were seven men, all college professors, who worked at the same prestigious university back East before World War Three. When all hell broke loose, they gathered their families and fled. Eventually they met up with the remnants of a National Guard unit and they all decided to hide out in this secluded area,” General Leonidas related. “After the U.S. government collapsed, there were hordes of looters and killers roaming the land. The only safe place for the professors and the Guardsmen was right here, so they resolved to start over, to build new lives for themselves.”