Atlantis Gate

CHAPTER 22

The dead bodies of the Persians were tossed off the cliff, tumbling down and splashing into the water. The seven Spartan bodies were laid out behind the Middle Gate. The severely wounded were being tended to. As far as Cyra could tell, severely meant a lost limb or partial evisceration as those who had wounds not that severe were standing with the rest around Leonidas in front of the wall. Torches sputtered from their niches on the rock wall as the Spartan King addressed his men.

“They will come first thing in the morning. They know the land now and they know their enemy. We will not have the advantage of surprise as we have had so far. But we still have the advantage of terrain and of arms.” Leonidas turned to the oldest member of the three hundred. “Polynices, what do your foresee?”

“Archers. So many that the sky will turn black with their flight.” The old man smiled. “It will shade us from the sun so we will be able to fight in the shade.”

The assembled men chuckled.

Leonidas nodded. “I agree. They will try to fix us with arrows. And then?”

Polynices tugged on his beard. “They will mass as many men as possible in the open space and attack. And attack. And attack.”

“Recommendations?” Leonidas threw the question out to all.

“They will expect us to fight the same way,” someone yelled out.

“True,” Leonidas acknowledged. “So we must do something different.”

Polynices stirred. “You started by saying they know the terrain and the enemy. Why not change one of those?”

Leonidas smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”

Xerxes never received a casualty report. Those killed during the day’s fighting were Immortals. He knew that every man killed or wounded had been replaced immediately and the Immortals were at strength, ten thousand strong. Thus, in a way, there were no casualties. Therefore no need for a report.

He sat in his dining throne, the Naga Staff on the table in front of him. His generals were gathered round the long table, their eyes downcast. Pandora was not behind the King, but to one side, the master-of-arms next to her. Her map was in the center of the table, a half-dozen daggers slammed through it. They had been there when Xerxes entered the tent and he assumed that had been done by members of his staff who had friends and relatives among those slain during the two days of fighting. The head of the lead scout was mounted on a spear outside the entrance to the tent along with that of the Egyptian leader.

“Do we have a plan for the morning?” Xerxes finally asked.

The general slowly got to his feet. “Yes, my King.”

“And that is?”

“We will deploy a front line of heavily armored Scythians at the top of the pass. Behind them we will mass archers. We will fire all morning and then withdraw the archers, reinforce the Scythians, and assault.”

Xerxes nodded, then waved a hand. “Everyone leave. Except Pandora.”

The tent cleared quickly.

“I have shown much restraint with you,” Xerxes said. He ran his fingers along the smooth metal on the haft of the staff. “You arrived with this and the map. The latter has proven false. What is the purpose of this,” he tapped the staff.

“I do not know, my Lord.”

“My patience is exhausted,” Xerxes said. “If you do not tell me now, I will have your head on a pole outside my tent within the minute.”

“It is to be used to destroy something if necessary,” Pandora said.

“What?”

“Another map.”

“Of?”

“I do not know. Truly!” she added as he started in anger. “I only know what I have been told in visions.”

“Visions from where?”

“The gods, my Lord.”

“There is only one God, the true God, Ahura Mazda.”

“Then the vision came from him.”

“You lie.”

“I am telling you all I know. I was taken from my home, which was being destroyed by earthquake and fire. To a dark place. I remember being on a table. Tied to the table. Figures in white all around me.”

Xerxes leaned forward, chin on hand, interested in spite of the situation. “Angels?”

“I do not know. There was much pain. I could not see clearly. And I had visions. They told me to seek you out. I did not want to. But I have had no choice in all of this. If I tried — and I did once, if you want honesty — to escape from your camp, there is so much pain in my head that I could not continue.” She spread her hands helplessly. “I have no control over my life.”

“And this other map? Where is it?”

“As far as I know from the visions, it will be in the pass in two days, my Lord.”

“Who will bring it there?”

“I do not know.”

“What about this priestess from Delphi? The Spartan King next to her had a staff like this,” he tapped the Naga Staff.

“I do not know.”

He let go of the staff and indicated the map. “That was not very useful. Why were you given it?”

Pandora closed her eyes. “It is supposed to help you defeat the Greeks and gain the pass.”

“But it doesn’t even show the pass correctly.” Xerxes leaned back in his throne. “I do not pretend to question my God — the God. I do not think you come from Him. And if you do not come from him, then perhaps you come from evil.”

Pandora shrugged. “That might well be.” She took a step forward. “But the map shows a trail over the mountain and coming in behind the Greeks. I have talked to some locals that your troops captured. One of them says there is such a trail, confirming what the map indicates.”

“I cannot waste troops on such a thing.”

“I will reconnoiter the trail, my lord. Verify that it does exist. You can send someone you trust with me to confirm what I see.”

Xerxes shook his head. “There is no need. We will have victory tomorrow.”

Leonidas took his place in the long line of men. He was stripped down to his tunic and sandals and the night air felt cool on his skin. He was surprised when Cyra slipped into place next to him.

“This will be man’s—” he paused, and rephrased his comment—“hard work.”

Cyra smiled, her white teeth glinting in the dim light from the torches on the wall. “You think you know all there is to know about hard work? About controlling pain and fear?” She shook her head. “Men. Try having a child. Then you will learn about pain. And maybe you will learn something about love also.”

Leonidas was about to say something when the first stone came down the line, passed from hand to hand. He grabbed it with both hands on his right side and swung to the left. Cyra’s hands were ready and she took it from him, passing it on to the next Spartan in line.

They worked on through the darkness. After several hours a rider came galloping up the pass from the south and Leonidas left the line. He took Cyra with him, even though she protested that she was fine.

“Report,” Leonidas ordered as they came up to the courier. The horse was sweating even though the night was cool.

“King,” the man nodded. “Your six Lochoi march swiftly but they are still four days away.”

Leonidas had expected as much. “And the Athenians?”

“Sit behind their walls and argue.”

“Are there any Greek forces on their way to join us?” Leonidas had sent out a dozen emissaries to the closest city-states.

“Two hundred archers from Mellos are coming. They are led by Lichas.”

Leonidas smiled. Lichas was a wily old warrior and his men were skilled with the bow. “When do they arrive?”

“In the afternoon, sire. At best.”

“That is all?”

“Yes, sir.”

Leonidas dismissed the courier to get some food. He ran a hand through his dirty hair as he pondered the situation. He could sense Cyra’s presence next to him. “The smart move would be to withdraw since the people who live behind us obviously don’t care enough to send troops to save their own skin. We could link up with my six lochoi and hold the isthmus at Corinth. That would also force the hand of the Athenians.”

“We must—” Cyra began, but Leonidas cut her off.

“I know we must hold until tomorrow. And not just for your map. We must hold stay here because we said we would.”