“May I ask what kind of plans?”
“Certainly. He’s going to run the Marathon of Death.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi dropped to the floor and quickly slipped the scabbard under his belt, slanting it over his right hip…
“To your posts!” General Leonidas bellowed, and the Spartans on the bunks rose and dashed to nearby windows, their swords out and ready. He walked to the shattered window and peered out at the row of troops, none of whom had moved. “Who claimed we were being attacked?” he asked.
“I did, sir,” a soldier responded.
“A Spartan must never lose his head, Lieutenant Idomeneus. You are hereby reduced in rank to sergeant and you’ll consider yourself on report.”
“Yes, sir.”
Surprised at the general’s strict judgment, Rikki stepped to the left of the broken glass. “Why was the spear thrown?” he wondered.
As if in reply, a hearty shout came from outside. “Leonidas! Are you still with us or has your guardian spirit ferried you to the far side?”
Leonidas chuckled. “I’m still alive, Calchas. You should give your men lessons on spear throwing. They can’t seem to hit what they aim at.”
“I know you were hit. I saw you being carried inside. Perhaps it’s you who needs more exercise. You’re not in the best of shape.”
Many of the soldiers surrounding the barracks laughed.
“I got your attention so I can make a proposal,” General Calchas went on. “I don’t want to see more men die needlessly. You’re beaten and you know it. If you try to break out, my troops will cut your men down as they try to get through the doors and windows. We have the advantage.”
“You think you do,” Leonidas stated.
“Save your false bravado for another time. The lives of your men are at stake, and I can’t believe you’d sacrifice them for a lost cause.”
“Who says our cause is lost?”
“I do,” replied Calchas.
Rikki spied the enemy general walking along the line of soldiers, a stocky man sporting a large gold clasp on his cloak. That was when he noticed all of Calchas’s troops wore gold clasps; Leonidas’s wore silver.
“Then you must be aware of some fact I’m not,” Leonidas called out.
“The cur you serve won’t win unless my liege dies, and King Dercyllidas is very much alive.”
“Not for long,” Caichas predicted, and stared at the broken window. He gave a courteous nod to Leonidas. “I’m a patient man, as you well know. I can wait out here until you become desperate with hunger or Dercyllidas dies, whichever occurs first. But I’d prefer to spare your men from such acute suffering. Surrender now. Lay down your arms and turn Dercyllidas over to me. I promise he’ll be treated with proper respect.”
General Leonidas gripped the hilt of his sword. “I’ve always regarded you as an honorable man, Caichas, until this very moment. You’ve insulted my king, my men, and me.” He paused. “You imply that my men aren’t willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary to perform their duty.
You say you would spare them from suffering, but Spartans are bred to endure suffering. And you demand that we turn over the man we have pledged to serve with our dying breaths, if need be. Well, here’s my answer. Never!”
A spontaneous cheer rocked the barracks.
Rikki scanned the relaxed, smiling Spartans and marveled at their composure in the face of imminent death. Their attitude was almost Zen-like in their acceptance of the inevitable, whatever it might turn out to be.
“You’re a fool, Leonidas!” Caichas cried.
“Perhaps. But I’m a loyal fool.”
“Prepare yourself, my former friend I’ve a strategy or two up my sleeve that will make you realize how foolish you’re being.” Caichas spun and stalked to the north, out of sight.
“I imagine he does,” Leonidas said softly.
“He was your friend?” Rikki queried.
“We were inseparable at one time.”
“What happened?”
“I was appointed by King Dercyllidas to take charge of his bodyguard.
Caichas was still an officer in the regular army. My promotion upset him immensely. He’d always wanted to be in the Three Hundred. Later, when Agesilaus offered him a post equal to mine, he gladly accepted,” Leonidas detailed. “I never did understand the reason Agesilaus selected him.
They’d never gotten along very well.” He scowled. “Only later did I realize Agesilaus took advantage of Calchas’s jealousy to set him against me.”
“How long ago did this occur?”
“About four years ago: Why?”
“It means Agesilaus has harbored the idea of becoming sole ruler of Sparta for a long time. Where I come from, we refer to such persons as power mongers. Men and women who crave power for power’s sake. Our Founder warned us in his journal against allowing such people to live among us. Whenever power mongers are discovered in our midst, they are banished from the Family or terminated.”
“Terminated?”
“Yes. But only if they refuse to mend their ways or leave peacefully.”
“Have you had many such power mongers?”
“Only one. A Warrior named Napoleon. About six years ago he attempted to seize control of the Family.”
“Was he exiled?”
“No. I killed him.”
“Oh.”
Rikki gazed at the soldiers standing like statues 30 feet away. “So what are your plans?”
“To wait until King Dercyllidas revives and follow his orders.”
“And if he doesn’t revive soon?”
“I’ll wait as long as I can.”
“Doing exactly as Calchas expects.”
General Leonidas studied the man in black. “Do you have a better idea?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
The Warrior nodded at the row of enemy troopers. “Attack now, when they’d least expect it.”
“Don’t think I haven’t considered the idea. But we’re outnumbered. They could leisurely pick us off if we tried to escape.”
“I’m not talking about escaping,” Rikki elaborated. “I mean attack.
Calchas expects you to send men out every door and window. In that case, he would have a numerical advantage. So do the unexpected. Lead all of your men out at one point, say the north doors. Bear in mind that Calchas has his unit stretched thin. How many soldiers has he posted opposite the doors?”
“Four rows of ten men each. The rest of his forces are deployed in a single row around the building.”
“There you see my point? Pour all of your men out of the doors at the strongest part of his line. I know your losses will be high. Those in the vanguard will undoubtedly be slain, but as more and more of your soldiers press into the open the tide will turn. His forty men at arms can’t possibly hope to contain all of your men. And by the time the remainder of his line rushes to the north, it will be too late.”
Leonidas scratched his chin and regarded the Warrior respectfully. “A commendable plot. It might work, but the losses, as you’ve noted, would be large.”
“I’ll understand if you decide against it. The cost might be higher than you’re willing to pay. Losing men is always a distressing experience.”
“You’ve lost a few, I take it.”
Rikki nodded, sadness etching his features. “Friends of mine, fellow Warriors, have died in the line of duty. I mourned their passing, even though I have faith they’ll survive this earthly life.”
The general turned and scanned the room full of Spartans. “I care for each and every one of them. After all the hours I’ve spent training and drilling them, I hate to see any of them die. But to die in combat is the dream of every Spartan from boyhood on, and we view death as the crowning glory of a life of service.” He nodded at the doorway on the south side of the room. “Come with me.”