Prologue

Love is a confusing thing. Everyone knows this, and nobody disputes it. But every case of love is different, and for two people of two different Greek city-states, it’s even less understandable.

The Greek city-state of Sparta was the most military-oriented of them all. Boys were given away for military training at the tender age of seven, and taught to never feel mercy, steal and not be caught, and that fighting was the only thing worth living for.

On the other end of the spectrum, the city-state of Athens concentrated on the finer arts and did not always have a standing army. They strived for knowledge, and most great philosophers, mathematicians, and scientists came from there. Children were schooled in art and poetry, and this is where the world’s first democracy began.

Being such polar opposites, of course the two were enemies. And finally, in 431 BC, the Peloponnesian War broke out. So how could anyone so contrastingly different have their love survive?

 

Chapter 1

I stared at the walls. It was the only thing I’d seen in the past ten months. While Athens was a clean, beautiful, and thriving city-state, those things seemed to fade in the blandness of it. Everyone was beginning to catch fevers, and their supply ship was already a week late.

“It was a good plan, you know,” Risto commented, reading my thoughts.

“A good plan in theory, not in practice.” I answered him with my eyes still glued to the walls. There were loud shouts on the other side, the cries of an angry army awaiting them. The shouters mocked them, calling them out to fight and let the gods choose the winner, not to be cowards. “We will have to leave eventually. If the supply ship doesn’t come today we’re in trouble.”

Risto stood, shaking his head. “They’re so stupid. Blockheaded barbarian Spartans.”

“Braver than us, though,” I pointed out. “At least they’re not hiding behind a giant wall keeping everyone trapped in the city until the enemy becomes to weak to keep waiting outside and surrenders. Not to mention with food only coming in by supply ship we’re not exactly well set to wait inside here. If the ships are ever delayed like they are now, we’ll have no other way of getting food.”

“But we have our wits. Something they never will!” Risto aimed that comment over the wall, but the Spartans on the other side were too loud to have heard.

“Wits may not be enough this time.” I noted softly.

He gave me a hard look. “Yes it will, Alexandra. Physical fighting power is worth nothing, it’s the more intelligent side that wins! You’ve heard the stories about how we fought off the Persians! It’s because we were smarter!” Risto pointed to his head.

I blew out a loud breath and started walking towards home. “You will never admit you’re wrong, will you, Risto?”

“I’m never wrong,” He countered, and I shook my head, smiling slightly. Brothers. What could you do with them? “I’m a clever genius.”

“Only in your mind, little brother,” I smirked widely enough he could see, and took off running ahead of him.

Risto quickly began to chase after me. “Alexandra! Alexandra, wait! Wait!”

I beat him to the house and walked proudly inside. I started to announce that I had beaten Risto, but there was a grave look on Mother’s face that stopped my words immediately. Risto, screaming curses, charged in behind me. His harsh words paused when he caught Mother’s expression.

“Mother? What’s wrong?” He asked somewhat timidly.

She appraised him nervously for a moment. “That ship in not coming, dearest. Ever. When your Father was out on the pier today, he watched it sink. The Spartans attacked it and it will be weeks before another one can be prepared and sail all the way here.”

As if being upset by the news, my stomach growled. “No new food for weeks?” I repeated quietly.

Mother nodded, and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

“What do we do?” Risto gasped, his ten-year-old eyes wide. Mother sniffled, obviously struggling not to cry.

“Things will become rotten here extremely quickly. Even the smartest of people become animals when they’re starving. Your Father and I believe it’s safest to send you out from here.”

It took me a moment to process the words. “But… but then where would Alexandra and I go?” Risto sounded heartbroken.

“Every ship in the fleet is preparing for war right now. Father has convinced his superiors to let you ride on his. They hope to overpower Sparta by surprising them. They wouldn’t be expecting an attack from the ocean at this time of year.” My jaw dropped. I truly couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing. Risto looked like he was about to burst with excitement, though.

“I get to be on a warship during a battle!?” He cheered, his green eyes bright. “I could come up with the battle strategy! I’m an excellent strategist, Mother!”

She smiled sadly. “Yes, sweetie, we’ll see. I have already packed your things.” There were tears pooling in her eyes. “Go get the trunks, Risto. There should be three.” He ran off, cheering himself on.

Mother bent down to give me a quick hug. “Take care of your brother, Alexandra. The two of you stay close to your Father and don’t get hurt.”

“What about you?” I asked fearfully.

“I will manage. It’s easier to take care of oneself than an entire family. Be safe, my baby, and pray.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her right eye. It was caught for a moment in her large, curly eyelashes before sliding down her face and dripping off her chin.

It was almost impossible to choke the words out of my mouth. “I will,”

Risto appeared, dragging the heavy trunks. “Go take your trunks down and wait at the pier. Your Father will come get you.” She hugged Risto and me again, this time making sure no traitorous tear escaped. “Hurry, before the word gets out about the supply ship.”

We yanked our trunks all the way down to the pier. From here the Spartans’ cries sounded even louder and even more menacing, echoing out over the waves.

“Persia is over there,” Risto pointed, and then began a long explanation of the local geography.

I plopped down onto one of the trunks, my head in my hands, and waited. I mostly tried to ignore Risto, until he caught my attention by screaming. “They’re coming over the wall! They’re coming over the wall! Alexandra!” The only expression on his face was utter terror.

I turned and could hardly believe my eyes. About ten Spartans were on top of the wall, working on getting down onto our side. I completely forgot about anything but my fear. “Run!” I grabbed Risto’s hand and pulled him after me.

I’d never realized how loud he could be until he had the word out in mere minutes that the Spartans had breached the wall near the pier.

We were the only ones anywhere near the pier, and I realized we were prime targets. “Quick,” I whispered, pulling Risto with me into someone’s garden. We hunched down, breathing raggedly.

“How could they get in?” Risto whispered, crying softly. “The more intelligent side always wins!” He was shaking in fear, and I tried to comfort him.

“Shh, shh, quiet, Risto. We don’t want to caught.” It didn’t come out sounding comforting, but it was the truth.

Someone spoke, but the dialect was wrong. I could understand them, but I knew what the accent and slightly different speech pattern meant. Spartan.

Risto screamed again, cowering behind me.

Two mismatched Spartans brandishing spears watched us, laughing. “Cowards,” One of them chuckled.

I had no idea what to say to stop them from what I knew was coming. “I have money.” I whispered, hoping that might be enough. They laughed even louder.

“Athenian ain’t is nothing, their money.” One cracked, snorting as if he was the funniest thing in the world. He seemed to almost be saying the word backwards.

“I—I,” I stammered, trying to think what of worth Risto and I could offer them. And of course there was nothing.

Chapter 2

An hour later we were sitting exhaustedly under a tree, wrists tied to keep us from fighting back. Poor little Risto had never stopped crying and calling out to me. The Spartans that had found us in the garden had taken us outside the Athenian walls, and into their camp. One was apparently our personal guard, and sat watching us, his dirty face quite angry looking.

Eventually, Risto’s sobbing subsided, when he finally accepted that bawling would not get him out of this. I decided our best shot right now was to make ‘friends’ with the Spartans. It wasn’t like they had any reason to keep Risto and I around.

“What’s your name?” I offered, and the Spartan stared at me, if surprised I had the nerve to say anything.

“Damien.” I waited, but he never returned the question. Apparently the Spartans didn’t have manners, either.

“I’m Alexandra, and this is my brother, Risto.” I announced, and he watched me boredly, not ever acknowledging the comment. I sighed lowly, annoyed with the slow progress I was making.

Damien looked like he was eighteen or so, much younger than his fellow Spartan warriors, it seemed. He laid back lazily, never releasing his spear, though.

“I’m hungry,” Risto whimpered, loud enough that Damien’s head popped up.

“Calchas,” Damien called, standing up and attempting to seem more alert. One man turned his head—Calchas, I guessed. “They are hungry.”

A few minutes later, Calchas delivered us some stale, disgusting looking bread. Risto looked sickened, his small face turning greenish. I didn’t want him to get us in trouble, though, so I elbowed him, keeping him from saying anything that would get us in more danger.

Again, I tried to get some sort of conversation going with Damien. “How old are you?” I asked politely.

He sighed, but I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just tired. “I turned eighteen a few months ago.” Damien toyed with the end of his staff, and then rose to his feet.

“Stop talking to the Spartans, Alexandra!” Risto hissed. “They’re barbarians and you’ll make them angry!”

“Shut up for a minute.” I whispered, and tried to appear unafraid.

“Who are you?” Damien asked, twirling his spear boredly. Was that why they hadn’t killed me and Risto? Were they hoping we were from a rich family and could get ransom?

I swallowed, not wanting to answer that question. Silence would bring on worse threats, though. After all, I was jumping to conclusions. “I’m—I’m Alexandra,” I knew it probably wasn’t the answer he was trying to pry from me.

But Damien didn’t press any further. Still spinning his spear like a baton, he walked away. Risto and I exchanged worried glances. “I want to leave here, Alexandra. They’re going to kill us!”

“We don’t know that,” I soothed, trying to calm him a bit. “We don’t know why we’re here.”

Calchas returned, and sat down in front of us. There was a dark look on his face, and he looked even more moody than Damien had. “Thank the gods for your lives, Athenians.”

Risto took this to mean we were about to be executed. He started screaming and crying, struggling wildly to unbind his wrists. Calchas chuckled at the display. “I presume no one’s taught this child anything. Such a weakling,” He laughed again, and Risto blushed slightly, though he’d stopped screaming.

“Be thankful you will get to live them longer. It is not custom to let an enemy live, certainly not a worthless Athenian.” He snorted, and Risto cowered into my side. I had to admit, Calchas was scaring me, too.

“We are… not to be killed?” I interpreted tentatively, hoping our slightly varying dialects hadn’t confused my understanding of his words.

“Not anymore, apparently,”

I knew it was a stupid question, but I had to ask. “Why?”

“Well, a lot of the workers have been dying off in the war lately and we’re in need of some new ones. And where better to get them then Athens?” I paled in horror. I knew exactly what that meant. Risto whimpered, and tears streamed down my face as I soaked in the reality of it. “Actually you’re quite lucky ones. Since you’re still children the General has taken pity on you, and is kindly keeping you here as workers rather than sending you back to Sparta. No getting back over the wall, though, ya hear? We’ll have no choice but to kill you then!” He laughed again, apparently quite amused by the idea.

He untied Risto and I’s wrists, and I rubbed the angry red marks tenderly. “I’d hurry if I were you, little ones. The General is in that big gray tent. He’d like to see the two of you immediately.”

Risto hugged me, and I squeezed his hand comfortingly. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. They’re not going to hurt us, Risto.”

“I don’t want to be a Spartan slave, Alexandra.” He looked up miserably. “I can’t be. I—I have to be a star-studier. I can’t do that here.”

“When the Athenian army destroys them, we’ll go back home and you can be whatever you want to.” I assured him, knowing the possibility of that scenario was unlikely. The Spartans certainly had the upper hand.

Chapter 3

I really didn’t want to walk into the General’s tent. I was terrified of what may be waiting within. I braved on, though, and Risto skittered after me. Sitting next to the forty-year-old man who was clearly the General was Damien.

“They really are small,” The General mused in a surprised tone. “I guess it must be an Athenian trait.”

I bit my lip, keeping myself in check. I wasn’t exactly in the position to be spouting off hate.

The General called Risto to come closer, and Risto glanced up at me in horror before stumbling forward. The General smirked. “I don’t bite. Not children, at least.”

“You’re to wake me at dawn every morning and not a moment before or after. And you will bring my food here from the common kitchen, and help me into my armor when it is necessary.” Risto, visibly shaking, nodded his head. The General waved his hand. “Sit,” Then he looked to me. “You are to assist our prince Damien in anything he may need.”

I almost fainted. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d heard correctly. Prince? I copied Risto, giving a slight nod. Damien smiled at me, and I thought I was going to die right there. The situation felt impossible. How, in a few short hours, could Risto and I have gone from chatting on the hilltop about the state of the war to this?

Damien thanked the General and walked out. I stood motionless, unsure of what to do. He poked his head back in the tent. “Come now,” I knew he was talking to me, but I didn’t want to abandon Risto. He was scared out of his wits and needed his sister, and vice versa.

“Be safe, always,” I whispered to him, and turned to go.

“Alexandra!” Risto yelped. “Please don’t leave! Don’t leave me alone! Alexandra!” He gasped, tears beginning to flow again.

“Be strong, Risto,” I gulped and steeled my nerves, following Damien out of the tent. My heart broke into two leaving sweet little Risto alone with the General, but I had no choice.

Damien snapped me out of my thoughts. “What was your name again?”

“A-Alexandra,” I breathed.

“How old?” He seemed bent on proving he had no manners, and that he had never been taught the idea of ‘politeness’.

“I’m seventeen, and eighteen in three more months.” I answered curtly, trying not to trip over my dress in the tall grass. Most of my focus was on not falling, so I hardly noticed when Damien paused.

He grabbed my arm roughly. “Where are you going, Alexandra?”

“I—I’m sorry, I hadn’t—hadn’t realized you’d stopped.” I winced from the tightness of his grip. Damien loosened his hand slightly, and then let me go.

“No one has ever schooled you in military training, have they?” Damien asked, his dark eyes appraising me emotionlessly.

“Not in the military,” I fidgeted, nibbling at my fingernails, a useless nervous habit I’d acquired.

Damien put one finger up. “Wait here a moment,” He disappeared inside a blue tent larger than the General’s. A second later, he popped out holding a sword. “We may have to change that, Alexandra.”

He thrusted the sword forward, having me stand off to the side so I could watch him demonstrate. “Hold it this way in order to get the most power.” He handed me the sword and I stared in amazement before trying to replicate the move. Damien shook his head. “No, like this,”

We spent a few hours practicing my sword thrusts until Damien was satisfied. “Get me some food. The main food station is there.” He disappeared inside of the blue tent. I passed the General’s tent on my way just as Risto stumbled out.

“Alexandra!” He gasped and grabbed my arm. “I’m so scared,”

“What happened?” I asked, worried about what the scary old man could have down to sweet little Risto.

“I just had to clean his boots and tent, but he scares me, Alexandra! I want to go home! I want to go home!” His voice was beginning to get louder and draw attention.

I shushed him. “Risto, honey, you can’t say those things so any of these people hear. Only loud enough that I can.”

We travelled through the food line together, and Risto almost cried when he had to leave my side. I hugged him tightly, promised him it would be alright, and had to walk back to Damien’s tent. I pushed through the draped opening, tray in hand.

I sat and watched Damien eat, staring curiously at the sword laying a few feet away. Why in his right mind would he be teaching me to use it? Against my better judgment, I asked.

“Why are you teaching me how to fight?” Damien looked up and answered with his mouth still full of food. I would never get over his lack of table manners.

“Don’t like weakness,” As if that settled it, he resumed eating.

“But why would you show me? It’s not—” I began, but was cut off.

“Silence, Alexandra, I’m trying to eat.” Damien didn’t sound too angry, though. I resumed biting my nails until they were jagged stubs. About then Damien finally finished. “Come now, I wasn’t finished quite yet.”

 

Chapter 4

He brought me back outside and demonstrated with the sword again, this time demonstrating an arc. It was almost nightfall, the sky a beautiful display of orange and pink. Either forced to stop because of the time or because I’d finally gotten decent at the move, Damien stopped and waved me inside.

“Sleep there,” A thin blanket was laid out for me, and he dropped onto a comfortable looking stuffed bed, complete with a warm blanket and pillow.

I spent half the night awake, shivering insanely. Finally I was just so exhausted I fell asleep despite the fact I was turning into an icicle. It was bright when I awoke, far past dawn. I bolted upright when I realized Damien was gone. By my side was a folded piece of papyrus.

When you wake report immediately to the General’s tent. I am away for battle today and will return for you by nightfall. Do not tell the General about anything I have taught you about fighting. This is supremely important, Alexandra.

Damien

I finally processed what I had read and got up. I stumbled over to the General’s tent. He was shouting at two soldiers in full armor, with Risto shriveled up in terror beside him. He waved them away, cursing them as they left.

“Hello, Alexandra, I trust Damien has sent you?” I nodded shyly. “Well, I’m quite busy today, so I would like the two of you to sit over there and be quiet.”

It was almost a ‘good’ day, sitting and talking with Risto for hours. I’d never known so much about my little brother. Twice the General had us bring him meals, and one of those time allowed Risto and I to indulge ourselves as well. At around four in the afternoon, a soldier ran in, speaking so quickly and out of breath that he was difficult to understand his message.

“Prince Damien has been injured in battle and he is not well. He requested to see you and his servant immediately.” I was frankly quite angry at that last part, but I knew for Risto and I that was our new reality. Risto clutched my arm.

“Please, Alexandra,” He whispered.

“I’ll come back for you.” I promised, ruffling his shaggy brown hair and following the messenger along with the General.

In what I assumed was the medical tent, wounded soldiers were being attended to. One of them was Damien. I couldn’t tell what was wrong, just that there was blood. I winced at the sight. The General dropped to his knees, leaning close to Damien. “Tell me what you know.”

“There’s a… a secret attack. An alliance… they have…” He wheezed, apparently unable to force anything else out.

“Damien, what!?” The General demanded harshly as Damien’s eyes slipped shut.

I gasped, “Is he still alive?” One of the doctors grasped his wrist and dropped it after a moment.

“At least for a little while longer, yes,”

At that, the General left. I wasn’t sure whether to follow or stay here. I looked up at the doctor. “Why did he call me here?”

The doctor merely shrugged and moved on. I yawned and sat, folding my legs together and stared at the tent’s aperture. Through it, I could watch as the wall was being slowly disassembled by Spartan troops. I sighed softly, my mind racing as I wondered about Mother’s and Father’s fates.

Damien started to whisper, but I couldn’t clearly make out entire sentences, only select words. The attention of every single doctor shifted to him. “He’s hallucinating,” One of them realized as Damien’s arms whipped wildly and reasonlessly around. He staggered off of his makeshift bed, and swatted anyone in his way. I made sure to keep out of Damien’s way.

Later

“What happened?” I finally asked, afraid he might be angry. Damien didn’t seem at all offended, though. I had waited two weeks since his injury to be sure he wouldn’t be furious with me.

“Some idiot Athenian tried to stab me. Of course I killed him, but he managed to hit me first.” Damien admitted, patting his healing side. He looked up over my head. “Calchas, bring myself and Alexandra something to eat.” Calchas had been sitting patiently beside me. Damien watched me carefully. “Why did you wait so long to ask me?”

I blushed, my cheeks burning embarrassingly. “I, uh, I didn’t want to make you angry.” I admitted lowly.

Damien smirked, and looked down to finish a sentence on the document he’d been scribbling on for the past hour. I figured he wasn’t going to reply, but a few minutes later he did. “You wouldn’t have made me angry.”

As the words tumbled out of his mouth, the screaming outside began. Damien bolted upright. “I told my army not to attack!” We peered out the tent opening to realize the Spartans were being ambushed by a ragtag group of Athenians. He kicked the ground furiously before grabbing his sword and stalking out. “Stay here!” He added before disappearing. An arrow whizzed just over the tent, and I decided it might be safer to lie low.

Then another thought hit.

Risto.

I sprinted to the General’s tent and dove inside. Thankfully it was nearby and no one was paying any attention to me in this time of crisis. Risto was sprawled out on the floor, covering his head and his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

I lifted him up by his elbows. “Risto, I know you’re scared but this is our chance. We can’t stay here and no one will see us leave.”

His eyes grew and he asked, “Alexandra, are you right of mind? We’d be killed!”

“Not if we were careful,” I disagreed, tugging on his hand. “Come on, Risto. Would you like to be the General’s slave for the rest of your life?” He paled, and I nodded. “This may be the only chance we get.”

Keeping hunched down to make ourselves less desirable targets, we snuck around the far side of the now crumbling defensive wall near the pier. “Where do we go?” Risto asked fearfully.

“We find Mother and Father and then we get out of here.” It took a while to forge through the chaos-ridden streets to our house. I didn’t want to touch the curtain serving as our door. I was terrified of what might be inside, but more fearful of what was out here. I made certain to enter before Risto, just in case.

The house was deserted, with no sign anyone had been there for the past few weeks. It was also clearly ransacked, many of my and Risto’s things missing. Risto hung his head, not even wasting tears on this.

“I wonder where they are,” Risto mumbled.

“I’m sure Mother and Father are fine. They’re brave,” I assured, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “Meanwhile I think maybe we should stay here. It’s safer,”

Exhausted from the pure fear that had coursed through us trying to escape the Spartan camp, Risto and I decided to take naps. It took me a while to clear my bed of all of the trash someone had dumped on it, but I managed. I fell asleep the moment I hit the bed.

“Alexandra!” I bolted upright. That horrified screaming voice had become all too familiar.

I started to move towards Risto’s room, but was cut off by a towering figure. Damien’s dark eyes were angry. I couldn’t find the words to either defend my actions or comfort Risto. I wasn’t even entirely sure that my lips knew how to move anymore.

I watched as Risto was dragged out of the house, and I knew I was next. Were they going to kill us now that they knew we were traitors?

“Don’t hurt Risto,” The words were barely audible. Even I could hardly understand myself, but Damien seemed to.

“I won’t hurt your brother. I wouldn’t kill a child.” I breathed a small sigh of relief.

That night I could not sleep. I knew Damien was deadly angry, but I also didn’t know how to cure it. In the middle of the night he woke me, and I knew this was it. He wouldn’t kill a small boy like Risto, but I wasn’t a child.

Damien presented me with a sword, and I became thoroughly confused. “What?” I whispered.

He shrugged emotionlessly. “We never finished your lessons, Alexandra, and I don’t leave things incomplete.”

So we spent until dawn practicing, now focusing more on my blocking and parrying skills. Those skills were practically nonexistent, though, even by the end of my training session. I still didn’t understand entirely why Damien was bothering with this kind of thing. Was he so naïve he expected me not to kill him with what I learned?

My daily routine was beginning to feel ‘normal’. In a new, twisted sense of the word, of course. I smiled, shaking my head slightly. How could this feel normal?

Weeks passed. Maybe months, but I wasn’t sure how many. Time as a whole meant nothing; I only focused on the day at hand. What was there to look forward to in the future, anyway?

I was improving drastically at my sword fighting skills from when I’d begun. Even Damien offered one of his rare compliments, commending my ‘quick’ grasp of sword fighting. It had become our routine to wake in the middle of the night and practice until dawn to remain unseen. I’d managed to conclude he would be in trouble for what he taught me, and that was why it was kept secretive.

In the heavy, damp darkness I slashed the sword. “Brilliant,” Damien whispered, leaning closer. He put his arms around me and pulled me into a kiss.

I stared up in awe, but Damien’s eyes were closed. He let me go after a moment, and I tried to find words, but could not. “It’s almost morning, Alexandra. We should stop now before someone notices.”

Staggering into his tent, I sat on my cot, an upgrade from my previous bunk on the floor. He flashed me a mischievous smile before grabbing a paper and disappearing out the tent door. It took me a full ten minutes to recover. I touched my lips in surprise, realizing that they’d become rough and chapped from the harshness of the Spartans’ way of life.

At about noon, Damien returned. He sat down across from me, and Calchas brought in two trays of food rather than the usual one for just Damien. I was surprised when Damien encouraged me to eat something—that one of the trays belonged to me.

“What… what happened that—”

Damien cut me off mid-sentence. “I have known you for three and a half months now, Alexandra.” He cocked his head and gave me that teasing smile again. “I think I’ve decided you’re quite nice to have around.”

I guessed by the expression on his face that was some sort of honor. We ate in silence, and I kept my head down, still somewhat confused.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Damien asked eventually.

“Oh,” I had gotten used to the quiet, and jumped a little at the sound of his voice. “I’m still a bit lost as to—”

“You’re eighteen now,” Damien interrupted.I didn’t see how that answered anything. Interpriting the blank look on my face, Damien sighed. “Meaning you are now of age. Of age for everything, and ‘everything’ includes marriage.”

My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure I’d understood what he was implying. “But—but I…” I sputtered, unable to finish.

He took my hands gently, his eyes eager. “Come on, Alexandra. Don’t let society change your mind. Where you were born means nothing to me. You are strong enough now—I taught you how to fight. I can make you free."

Wow.... I love it!!!! I'm greek so... I loved it even mooore