Steel in the Storm

The ridge camp squatted under a bruised dawn, wind whistling through the cracks, fires spitting sparks into the gray sky. Lysander clutched her dagger, blood flaking off the blade, her torn cloak snapping in the gusts. The bindings beneath clung tight, frayed but veiling her secret. A girl in the agoge was a blight on Sparta's honor, a death sentence she'd kill to dodge. Her leg ached, blood crusting Damon's rag, her shoulder raw from Gaius's whip. Every move stung, but she stood tall, hiding it all. Damon lingered close, his sword crusted with helot blood, green eyes steady and sharp. He'd caught too much in that ridge fight, her bindings stretching, her flinch, and Gaius's Next time, runt! still echoed. She thought, He's too close, but I need him.

Spartan soldiers circled the ridge, shields glinting, their captain barking orders. The scarred brute in a red cloak shouted, "Storm's coming, march to the hollow!" The herd, five left and battered, stumbled forward, Felix wheezing on his shield, blood staining the wood dark. Gaius trailed behind, whip coiled, his slashed leg oozing red. His laugh from the valley clung to her skull, a vow of vengeance. She knew he gripped that binding scrap from the ravine, his leverage to bury her. She thought, He's still breathing, rage simmering. I'll carve that grin off soon.

They trudged down a rocky slope, wind slashing their bare legs, the hollow ahead, a dip of stone and scrub, shadowed and tight. Lysander's leg pulsed with each step, blood seeping fresh, but she marched fast. Damon shadowed her, his presence steady, too steady. His hand brushed her arm as she slipped, catching her just enough. He muttered, "Easy," voice low, rough with worry. Her gut twisted. She thought, Not now.

She snapped, "Back off," forcing her voice gruff, a boy's tone she prayed held. He lingered, eyes searching, too warm, but she pushed past. Gaius grinned behind, whip tapping his thigh. She thought, He's watching, waiting to pounce.

The hollow loomed, a cramped bowl of rock with wind howling through, storm clouds rolling black overhead. The captain halted them, his red cloak flapping wild. "Dig in, helots'll hit with the rain!" Soldiers scattered, Felix slumped against a stone, pale but glaring, tracking her every twitch.

Lysander scanned the dark, scrub swaying, shadows flickering in the storm's breath. She thought, They're out there, grip tightening. Gaius limped up, grinning through blood-streaked teeth. "Runt's weak, won't hear 'em," he sneered, cracking his whip near her boots. Dust kicked up, biting her shins.

Damon stepped in, sword twitching at his side. "He's stronger than you, cripple," he growled, voice hard, protective. She felt heat spike. She thought, For me, too much.

Gaius laughed, shoving her toward the hollow's edge, hard. Her leg buckled, pain flaring, but she caught herself on a rock. "Hear 'em then," he taunted, loud and mean. She growled, "Wait for it," keeping her voice low, a boy's edge, dagger up, glaring. She thought, You're dead meat.

The captain shouted, "Positions, now!" She crouched at the rim, peering out, wind tearing her cloak, blood dripping from her leg. Damon knelt beside her, too close, his breath steady. "You're hurt bad," he hissed, worry sharp.

She snapped, "Hush," eyes on the dark. She thought, He can't know. A rustle, soft, quick, helots creeping close. She thought, There. She pointed, fast. "Right flank, moving up." Damon nodded, too near, his arm brushing hers, warm, solid. She thought, Too solid.

The captain barked, "Hit 'em! Down the slope, go!" Soldiers grabbed weapons, the herd scrambling, five, bloody, ready. Lysander leapt up, sliding fast, rocks cutting her hands, leg throbbing. She thought, Move. Damon dropped beside her, swift, sure, his eyes on her. "Stay with me," he said, voice firm, too firm.

She lied, "I'm fine," hitting dirt, stones slicing her feet. Gaius landed heavy, whip out, grinning. She thought, He's here. A yell, helots charging in, torches dim, spears flashing. She thought, Now! She dove in, dagger slashing a helot's arm, blood sprayed, he dropped, screaming.

Damon fought beside her, sword ripping a helot's chest, red gushed, hot and wet, he kicked the body off, blocking a spear from her. "Stay tight!" he yelled, voice fierce, his shoulder brushing hers. She thought, Too tight. She nodded, slashing another helot's leg, down fast. She thought, He's got me, heat creeping.

Gaius roared, whip cracking, a helot's face split, blood pouring, he locked on her, charging. "Runt's mine!" he shouted, lashing out. The whip hit her arm, pain flared, blood dripping, she ducked, lunging low. He swung, missing, and she slashed his thigh, quick, deep, red flowed. He roared, whip cracking her shoulder, fire exploded, old cuts tearing, but she rolled, dagger at his gut.

He twisted, whip snagged her wrist, yanked, bindings stretched. She thought, No! She kicked his wound, hard, blood gushed, he cursed, dropping. She slashed his arm, red poured, he stumbled. She thought, Down. Damon yelled, "Lys!" sword slashing a helot off her. She thought, He's mine.

The captain roared, "Drive 'em!" Soldiers slammed in, shields crashed, herd surged, helots broke, scattering, rain hit, cold and sharp. She thought, Gone. Lysander panted, blood dripping, five left. She thought, Still kicking. Gaius crawled back, grinning. She thought, Not dead.

Damon grabbed her, steadying, his hand too warm. "You good?" he asked, eyes on her cloak. She thought, Bindings safe, searching her face, too soft.

She snapped, "Yeah," pulling free. She thought, Secret holds, but her leg bled, shoulder wept. She said, "Watch him, he's alive." He nodded, eyes deep. She thought, Too deep.

The captain barked, "Back up, dig in!" The herd climbed, slow, soaked, Felix glaring from above. She thought, Alive. Lysander hauled up, pain roaring, Damon below, pushing. She thought, Stay back. At the hollow, panting, she slumped, Damon beside, quiet, watching.

Rain pounded, cold, relentless, fires hissed, soldiers tossed bread, wet, small. Damon sat close, his knee brushed hers, voice low. "You took Gaius again, damn tough, Lys." His grin flickered, real, warm. She thought, Stop it, chest thumping.

She muttered, "Had to," splitting bread, half to him, his fingers grazed hers, slow. She thought, Too slow. "Thanks, for sticking," he said, rough, deep, eyes locked. She thought, Too much. She froze. She thought, Not yet.

She hissed, "Shut up," pulling back, voice low, boyish. A yell, soldiers up, "Helots!" Lightning cracked, helots back, spears gleaming. She thought, Again.

The captain roared, "Hold 'em!" Soldiers charged, herd jumped, Lysander stood, dagger out, Damon beside, tight. She thought, Always. Gaius limped up, whip ready, grinning, blood dripping. "Runt's dead!" he shouted, lashing out. The whip hit her leg, blood sprayed, she ducked, slashing his arm, red flowed.

Helots rushed, spears high, screaming, she spun, dagger in one's gut, fast, dead, blood sprayed. She thought, Keep going. Damon yelled, "Lys, left!" She turned, spear at her, dodged, slashed throat, red gushed. She thought, Down.

Gaius swung, whip missed, Damon tackled, sword slashed, Gaius's chest, shallow, blood seeped, he cursed, bolted. She thought, Gone again. A horn, Spartan, blared, helots scattered, rain pounding. She thought, Out.

Damon grabbed her, panting, arm around, too tight. "You hurt?" he asked, soft, eyes on her cloak. She thought, Safe, he's looking.

She lied, "No," shoving off, voice rough, leg bled, shoulder wept. She thought, Secret holds. She said, "Gaius, he's still out there." Damon nodded, eyes burning. She thought, Too much. The captain yelled, "Dig in, now!" Soldiers moved, herd limped, five. She thought, Less.

Gaius's laugh, far, sharp, "Next time, runt!" Damon's hand brushed hers, quick, warm. She thought, He's mine, as helots faded, her secret ticking, louder, closer. She thought, Not now.