task has been laid on you, will you go back to the Oracle?”
“I don’t know my fate.” That, at least, was true.
“If you survive somehow and stay in Greece, will you do me a favor?”
“Yes, if it is within my power.”
Leonidas smiled. “I believe it is indeed within your power. Go to my home. Tell my wife how I died.”
“I can do that,” Scout lied.
“I’m not done yet,” Leonidas said. “I have grown to admire you during our journey here from the Oracle. I want you to teach my daughter.”
“What would you like me to teach her?”
“To be like you.”
Scout hated this next lie. “I will.”
It is 480 B.C. The world’s population is roughly 100 million humans. Soon to be less three hundred Spartans and quite a few Persians, along with troops sent by vassals of Persia and mercenaries paid by King Xerxes. The average life expectancy is twenty-eight but if a child made it to ten, then they had an average of another thirty years.
Scout sensed a presence. She got to her feet.
Some things change; some don’t.
“What is it?” Leonidas was up, putting his helmet on. “The Persians come in the dark?”
“No.” Scout took a step toward the grisly barricade of Persian bodies and stone the Spartans had erected. “Someone like me.”
“The Sibyl Pandora that the Oracle spoke of?” Leonidas asked.
Scout shivered at the mention of that name and the connection she immediately felt to it.
“Perhaps. She is not a danger. Not right now.” Scout had no idea if that were true or not, but she knew this Pandora was her problem, not the Spartan’s.
“How does she fit into the Oracle’s prophecy?” Leonidas asked.
Scout didn’t know that either since she hadn’t been there for the prophecy. “What do you remember of the prophecy?”
Leonidas gave her a strange look. “She told me I would gain much honor and fame. And that I would die. She said I was to save a sphere that was a map. That the fate of not just Greece but the entire world lay in the balance. That we must give the map to another warrior.” He shook his head. “A warrior who is not yet alive, but alive. Of this world but not of this world. You people speak in riddles.”
Scout’s first thought was Nada. Did he exist in some time, some place between his death and his choice to go back?
Leonidas didn’t let her dwell on that for long. He pointed toward the north. “I know who we fight there. I can see them. But fighting a Shadow? That I don’t understand. And your Oracle couldn’t tell me what this Shadow is. How to find it to defeat it.”
“Prophecies can be taken many ways,” Scout said.
“Yes,” Leonidas said. “We all learned the lesson of Croesus, last of the Lydian Kings. He earned that title after he consulted the Oracle. She gave him a prophecy. That if he went to war against the Persians, he would destroy a great empire.”
Scout dialed up the info. “He heard what he wanted to hear. That is not the Oracle’s fault. He led his troops into war with Cyrus, King of Persia, grandfather of Xerxes who we now battle.”
“And he did destroy an empire,” Leonidas said. “His own. A good reason I should not trust you. Or the Oracle. I should trust this.” He tapped the hilt of his sword. “It has always been reliable.”
Scout focused on the King, staring into his eyes. “You can trust me.”
A long pause, then Leonidas nodded. “I believe I can.”
A weariness passed through Scout, a brief wave, then it was gone.
“I will check on the men,” Leonidas said, leaving her be and heading for the nearest fire.
Scout knew of the name Pandora without the download. Part of Greek mythology. Something about opening a box. And then data flowed, a fire hydrant of information overwhelming Scout’s sketchy schooling:
After Prometheus sided with the Gods in the epic battle against Cronus and his fellow Titans, he’d been tasked by Zeus to create man. But Prometheus, jealous of all that the Gods had, stole the
“I don’t know my fate.” That, at least, was true.
“If you survive somehow and stay in Greece, will you do me a favor?”
“Yes, if it is within my power.”
Leonidas smiled. “I believe it is indeed within your power. Go to my home. Tell my wife how I died.”
“I can do that,” Scout lied.
“I’m not done yet,” Leonidas said. “I have grown to admire you during our journey here from the Oracle. I want you to teach my daughter.”
“What would you like me to teach her?”
“To be like you.”
Scout hated this next lie. “I will.”
It is 480 B.C. The world’s population is roughly 100 million humans. Soon to be less three hundred Spartans and quite a few Persians, along with troops sent by vassals of Persia and mercenaries paid by King Xerxes. The average life expectancy is twenty-eight but if a child made it to ten, then they had an average of another thirty years.
Scout sensed a presence. She got to her feet.
Some things change; some don’t.
“What is it?” Leonidas was up, putting his helmet on. “The Persians come in the dark?”
“No.” Scout took a step toward the grisly barricade of Persian bodies and stone the Spartans had erected. “Someone like me.”
“The Sibyl Pandora that the Oracle spoke of?” Leonidas asked.
Scout shivered at the mention of that name and the connection she immediately felt to it.
“Perhaps. She is not a danger. Not right now.” Scout had no idea if that were true or not, but she knew this Pandora was her problem, not the Spartan’s.
“How does she fit into the Oracle’s prophecy?” Leonidas asked.
Scout didn’t know that either since she hadn’t been there for the prophecy. “What do you remember of the prophecy?”
Leonidas gave her a strange look. “She told me I would gain much honor and fame. And that I would die. She said I was to save a sphere that was a map. That the fate of not just Greece but the entire world lay in the balance. That we must give the map to another warrior.” He shook his head. “A warrior who is not yet alive, but alive. Of this world but not of this world. You people speak in riddles.”
Scout’s first thought was Nada. Did he exist in some time, some place between his death and his choice to go back?
Leonidas didn’t let her dwell on that for long. He pointed toward the north. “I know who we fight there. I can see them. But fighting a Shadow? That I don’t understand. And your Oracle couldn’t tell me what this Shadow is. How to find it to defeat it.”
“Prophecies can be taken many ways,” Scout said.
“Yes,” Leonidas said. “We all learned the lesson of Croesus, last of the Lydian Kings. He earned that title after he consulted the Oracle. She gave him a prophecy. That if he went to war against the Persians, he would destroy a great empire.”
Scout dialed up the info. “He heard what he wanted to hear. That is not the Oracle’s fault. He led his troops into war with Cyrus, King of Persia, grandfather of Xerxes who we now battle.”
“And he did destroy an empire,” Leonidas said. “His own. A good reason I should not trust you. Or the Oracle. I should trust this.” He tapped the hilt of his sword. “It has always been reliable.”
Scout focused on the King, staring into his eyes. “You can trust me.”
A long pause, then Leonidas nodded. “I believe I can.”
A weariness passed through Scout, a brief wave, then it was gone.
“I will check on the men,” Leonidas said, leaving her be and heading for the nearest fire.
Scout knew of the name Pandora without the download. Part of Greek mythology. Something about opening a box. And then data flowed, a fire hydrant of information overwhelming Scout’s sketchy schooling:
After Prometheus sided with the Gods in the epic battle against Cronus and his fellow Titans, he’d been tasked by Zeus to create man. But Prometheus, jealous of all that the Gods had, stole the
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