The Fire of Ares by Michael Ford Page B

fields …’
    Lysander was about to launch a fist straight into the overseer’s sternum, but he felt his mother’s hand in the middle of his back. She spoke before he could, and there was fear in her voice.
    â€˜Thank you, sir,’ she said to the overseer. ‘We understand perfectly. We would just like to get on with our work now.’
    With a snort of disgust, Agestes turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the air behind him thick with his stench.
    Lysander’s face burned as he worked beside Athenasia, turning over weeds with a hoe. He could see that she was barely able to remain upright. A sickly sweat shone on her pale forehead. Shame came upon him in bursts, like arrows shot into his mind.
I can’t even protect my mother! I should have killed that fat stinking hog of an overseer with my bare hands.
His mother must have seen the tortured look on his face.
    â€˜It wouldn’t have helped, you know,’ she began. ‘Fighting only creates more fighting. The Spartans would do well to remember that.’
    Letting out a weak groan, she sank to one knee. Lysander dropped the hoe and rushed to hold her shoulders as the coughing racked her body. When she stopped shaking, Lysander saw that his mother’s eyes were dulled and unresponsive. He had never seen her so bad before.
    â€˜
Enough!
’ said Lysander. ‘I am taking you home.’
    He looked round for Agestes, but he was nowhere in sight. He hoisted Athenasia’s frail body into his arms. She didn’t protest as he carried her out of the fields. The other Helots looked on in sympathy, but nonestepped out to help. What could they do? Old Nestor, his lips pressed together, gave a small nod of the head.
    On the path between the fields, Lysander saw Agestes at a distance, yelling at a group of three female Helots – Lysander recognised them as the three daughters of Hecuba, a friend of his mother’s. As he watched, Agestes suddenly marched forward and swung the back of his hand across the face of the youngest, Nylix, who fell to the ground with a shriek. Her sisters cowered beside her.
    There was no turning back. Lysander gritted his teeth and readied himself to face the overseer. As he drew nearer, Agestes turned and stared in disbelief. He slowly stepped into the middle of the path and folded his arms.
    â€˜You, boy, are going nowhere. And neither is your mother. Get back to work at once!’
    â€˜Not this time,’ said Lysander. He lowered Athenasia, who managed to find her feet. He could feel her quaking, but instead of backing off, he took a step forward. ‘I will not watch my mother die in the fields.’
    Agestes raised his bear-like hand and bellowed:
    â€˜Back to work! Now!’
    Lysander didn’t move, and he was ready when Agestes brought down his arm. He ducked to the side but kept his foot extended. Agestes’s hand hit nothing but air, and his weight carried him over Lysander’s outstretched leg. He crashed to the ground. For a moment he lay fighting for breath, winded by the fall.Picking up his mother, Lysander walked as quickly as possible in the direction of their village. Agestes didn’t follow, but called out in anger:
    â€˜You’ll die for this, Helot! You’ll suffer, I promise!’
    Lysander did not look round.
    Lysander placed his mother on her bed, and looked around their shack – the few pieces of rough furniture, the cooking pans and the half-melted candles. Was this all their life amounted to? Was this all a Helot could expect?
    â€˜How can they do this to us?’ No one answered. Lysander buried his face in his hands and wept. He could not hold back the tears any longer.
    A fist thundered on the door. The voice of the overseer bellowed from outside.
    â€˜Open up, boy!’ The hand pounded the wood again. His mother stirred, but didn’t wake.
So this is it
, thought Lysander.
Six lashes will not be enough this time
. He