Gemmell, David – Lion of Macedon 01

The general’s fist slammed down on the table. ‘I don’t want one of my boys as that man’s catamite!’

‘I will see he is back tomorrow.’

‘Do so,’ grunted the old man. ‘And, Lepidus, there will be no presentation of the Victory Rod.’

‘Sir?’

‘No presentation this year.’

Lepidus looked into the old man’s eyes and swallowed hard. ‘I do not much like the boy, sir, but he won. How can we refuse him the Rod?’

‘An example must be set. Do you know that my helots are talking of his win, that it is common knowledge among the Sciritai?’

Lepidus had said no more. Now he sat, grateful for the shade from the tall cypress tree, and watched the boys run. He had little time for Parmenion, whom he saw as a sly, cunning youth; but he had earned the Rod, and it was unfair to deprive him. He wondered how the other boys would take the decision. Parmenion was not popular, but the award night was usually a riotous affair and much looked forward to.

The race was entering its final stages: Lepidus stood and walked to the centre of the field.

Gryllus still held the lead, but Hermias was now alongside Leonidas and vying for second place, blocking the taller youth’s chances of an outside run at Gryllus. Leonidas cut to his right, barging Hermias aside. The slender youth staggered and lost ground, but Leonidas surged forward, catching Gryllus just before the line and breasting home ahead. Hermias came in fifth.

Lepidus waited while the youngsters regained their breath, then called them to him.

‘A fine run – save for you, Pausias. Five more laps, if you please.’ The boys jeered at the fat youth as he set off on his lonely run. ‘Now, gentlemen, the notices. First, the Olympiad trials. Leonidas and Parmenion will represent this barracks in the middle and long races. Leonidas will also compete in the javelin with Nestus. Hermias and Asiron will represent us in the short race. I will speak to the

athletes when you are dismissed. Second, four boys were late for muster yesterday. This is not showing a good example to the younger members of the barracks. We are Spartans, gentlemen, and that means we understand discipline. It will not happen again. Third, the presentation of the Victory Rod . . .’ His eyes moved to Leonidas and a fleeting smile touched the boy’s face. He knows then, thought Lepidus, and anger flared in him like a candle-flame. ‘The presentation will not take place this year, and there will be no celebration.’ To Lepidus’ amazement a great cheer went up, and his face darkened. ‘Gentlemen!’ he yelled, raising his arms. Silence fell. ‘I do not understand the cause of this joy. Would someone explain it to me? You, sir,’ he said, pointing to Learchus.

‘Savra cheated,’ Learchus answered, and Lepidus saw several heads nod in agreement.

‘He did not cheat!’ roared Lepidus. ‘He won! And that is what Spartans are supposed to do. And let me make something very clear to you all. Had Leonidas ordered his own cavalry forward, they would have intercepted the charge. Then, as Parmenion advanced, his right would have been exposed to javelins and arrows. Parmenion would have been annihilated. I do not excuse his use of the Sciritai, but when I see Spartans whining about defeat I despair. You are dismissed!’

Spinning on his heels he stalked from the training ground, leaving a stunned audience behind him.

‘I didn’t think he liked Savra,’ whispered Learchus.

‘What he said was right,’ Leonidas said.

‘No, Savra cheated,’ put in Gryllus.

Leonidas stood and turned to the others. ‘He was right! I took Savra lightly and he humbled me. I should have worn the Cloak of Shame. There were a dozen ways I could have crushed him, had I guessed at his plan, and three which could have won me the battle even though I failed to read his intent. I did not use them. Now let that be an end to it.’

Leonidas walked away and Gryllus turned to Learchus, leaning in close. ‘The mix-blood is staying at my father’s

house today,’ he whispered. ‘But tonight he will go home for the burial night.’

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