Birth of a Warrior (10 page)

The only animals they saw were the occasional rabbit, a fluffy tail disappearing down a hole, and the red squirrels that hopped between the branches of the trees. Birds, startled at their approach, took to the skies leaving branches quivering in their wake. There was nothing they could catch, and Agesilaus seemed keen to cover as much distance as possible. He bounded on ahead, sometimes breaking into a slow run. A little after midday, Demaratos fell into step alongside Lysander. He was still hobbling a little, and the bandage over his cut was black with dust and blood.

‘Where do you think he's taking us?' he asked. ‘Sparta must be more than a day's march away now.'

‘I don't know,' replied Lysander. ‘But this is the final day. I'm sure it will be something difficult.'

Soon Lysander could hear the babble of running water in the distance, and it reminded him of his thirst. He'd been rationing the water from the settlement, and was longing to wash the filth from his body.

‘I'm almost missing Diokles,' joked Demaratos, and Lysander couldn't help but laugh. Agesilaus stopped ahead.

‘Is something funny?' he said with menace. ‘It's time for the final test – you must prove yourselves hunters. Fish, bird, and beast. Before we can return to Sparta, you must kill one of each. We'll reach the river soon.'

‘I can catch a fish easily,' boasted Demaratos. ‘My father taught me when I was small.'

‘How?' asked Lysander. ‘We haven't even got a line, or a hook …'

‘Wait and see,' said Demaratos. They reached some rocks at the edge of a small valley. Far below, a river cut through the landscape. It was flowing fast. In places, the water churned noisily in crests of white foam, or else it slid over flat polished rocks. There were deep pools too, and Lysander could see right through the clear water to the bottom.

‘Look!' shouted Demaratos. ‘Fish. Lots of them!'

He was right. Even from this height, Lysander could see several fish, their bodies black and sleek as they hung in the strong current.

Demaratos headed down the slope, upsetting small
rocks and dust with his heels. Lysander set off in pursuit. Even with a net it would be difficult to catch any fish. And the water was flowing too fast to climb in. It would sweep a person off their feet.

They soon reached the water's edge. The water here was quite still and, crouching beside the river, Lysander scooped great handfuls of the cool clear liquid into his mouth and threw it over his head and neck, washing away the grime that had collected there. When his belly could hold no more water, he started filling his flask.

‘There's no time to waste,' shouted Agesilaus. ‘You have a task to fulfil. Get to it!'

Lysander and Demaratos stood on the bank. At the top of the pool, where the water gushed between two flat rocks, several fish had gathered, their noses turned into the current.

‘See that fat one on the left,' said Demaratos, pointing. ‘He's mine!'

‘Show us then,' said Agesilaus, folding his arms with a sneer.

Demaratos walked slowly up the bank, crouching low and keeping his eyes on the fish. Lysander was reminded of watching him wrestling in the exercise yard, circling his opponent. He reached the head of their section of the river, where several large boulders were scattered through the middle of the river. He took off his sandals and clambered on to one of the boulders. One misplaced foot, and he would plunge into the water below, where the current was strongest.
Eddies swirled over the sharp rocks below. Lysander wanted to call for him to be careful, but didn't want to disturb the fish.

Agesilaus came to stand beside Lysander.

‘He should take care,' he said. ‘Or he'll be food for the fish.'

Demaratos hopped from one rock to the next, steadying himself with his outstretched arms. To get to the next rock, he had to place his feet into the water. He lowered himself.
He's feeling for a firm foothold
, thought Lysander. With both feet under the surface, Lysander could see that Demaratos's knuckles were white where he was still gripping the rock he had descended from. With a lunge he pushed himself off and reached for the rock ahead. As he left his anchor, his feet slipped and he let out a cry.

‘Told you,' said Agesilaus.

Demaratos clung to the rock, and regained his feet. Lysander could see that the muscles in his arms were trembling with the effort of holding on.

After the danger, he made his way to the centre of the river quickly and safely. He knelt down on a flat rock a little above the surface of the rapids below. Demaratos lowered his hands very slowly into the water, his eyes focused downwards.

‘This is ridiculous,' said Agesilaus.

Lysander crept further up the bank to get a closer look. The big fish hadn't moved. It still lay almost motionless, twitching its muscular tail to keep itself
steady. Why didn't it swim away? Lysander wondered. Surely it could see Demaratos moving his hands ever closer?

Lysander watched as Demaratos placed his hands underneath the fish. He stayed in that same position for some time. Lysander found himself holding his breath. A bead of sweat dropped from Demaratos's forehead into the water. Even Agesilaus had crept closer to watch.

‘What's he doing?' Lysander asked him. ‘Why doesn't he grab it?'

‘I don't know,' replied Agesilaus gruffly. ‘He's more stupid than an Athenian if he thinks the fish is going to jump into his hands.'

Demaratos suddenly whipped his hands out of the water. There was a flash of silver as the fish came out as well, spiralling high into the air, and landing on the bank near to Lysander. The speckled trout flopped around and then lay still on its side, its mouth working open and closed. Demaratos stood on his rock and gave a whoop of joy.

‘I told you I could do it!' he yelled. ‘I told you.'

‘How did you manage it?' shouted back Lysander.

‘I was tickling it,' said Demaratos. ‘It sends them into a sort of trance. They fall asleep in the water.' He was looking down near his feet. ‘Wait! I see another. This one's twice as big!'

Demaratos was on his knees again, placing his hands back in the water. Lysander couldn't see much of the
fish – it looked like a dark shadow under the water. But it was a big shadow. Two fish would feed them well.

Demaratos tickled for longer this time – Lysander guessed he wanted to be sure before he tried to bring the fish out. Then, with the same jerking motion the fish came up in his hands. The trout was glistening in the sunshine; it was longer than his forearm. But as Demaratos lifted it from the water, it squirmed from his grasp. He'd made a mistake – the fish hadn't fallen asleep. Demaratos leant out further to try and grab it. Too far. As the fish arched out of his reach, Demaratos toppled into the raging torrent.

‘No!' Lysander called out. But it was too late. Demaratos had disappeared under the water.

Demaratos dragged his head above the current.

‘Help! Hel—' His shouts were stifled as he was pulled back under.

Lysander readied himself to plunge into the water, but Demaratos was already past him. He set off after Agesilaus along the bank. Demaratos reached the end of the main pool and was sucked towards a chute of rapids flowing over shallow rocks. His body disappeared quickly over the edge.

‘Swim to the bank!' shouted Lysander, but he could see it was hopeless – the current was too strong. Rounding the set of rocks on dry land, he watched as Demaratos scrambled furiously to get a hold of something on the bank. But the stones there were green with slippery algae, and his hands couldn't find any grip along the smooth surfaces.

Lysander threw himself on his belly over a rock and stretched out over the water. ‘Here, Demaratos!'

Demaratos reached out a hand, but his wet fingers
slipped from Lysander's grasp. He wasn't shouting now, and Lysander could see the fear in his face as he continued downstream. Lysander climbed quickly to his feet. Ahead of him, Agesilaus reached a weeping willow tree, its slender branches sagging into the water. He pulled something from his belt – a dagger – and quickly cut off one of the branches. Demaratos flailed in the powerful water.

Agesilaus leapt on to a boulder and held out the branch.

‘Demaratos!' he yelled. ‘Grab this!'

Demaratos reached out.
Come on
, willed Lysander.
You can do it. Just a little further.
His hands closed around the branch. Agesilaus was lying on his stomach, anchored in place. All Demaratos had to do was pull himself towards the bank. But the older boy wasn't helping. Why wasn't he tugging on the branch to bring Demaratos to safety?

‘Pull him up!' Lysander shouted. Then he saw that Agesilaus was smiling. The blond-haired Spartan slowly loosened his grip and allowed the branch to slip from his fingers.

‘No!' yelled Lysander. Demaratos was in the river's grasp once again. ‘What are you doing?' cried Lysander.

Agesilaus laughed. ‘Better get after him, don't you think?'

Lysander wanted to slam his fist into the Spartan's face. But if they didn't get Demaratos out of the water, he'd either drown, or some submerged rock
would smash open his skull.

Lysander ran down the bank and shouted to Demaratos.

‘Get on your back. Go feet first, it'll protect your head.' He watched as Demaratos struggled into position. If he met any obstacles now, his legs would bear the brunt. A broken or torn leg was better than a head wound. Demaratos seemed to be trying to say something, and was making gestures with his arms, but Lysander couldn't understand what he meant. He heard one word – ‘bridge'. He looked up and saw it. Thirty paces away – a small wooden platform spanning the river where it narrowed. Lysander took off, crashing through the bushes and branches that covered the river bank, his feet sliding in the mud. He reached the bridge before Demaratos. Beneath the planks the river channel narrowed and fell away in a waterfall. The cascade was as tall as five men, and the pool below was shallow. Jagged rocks broke the surface of the water. If Demaratos went over, he was almost certain to be killed, his body smashed and torn.

‘Better hurry and help your friend!' shouted Agesilaus from upstream.

Lysander lay on his front and reached down towards the water below. But he was still an arm's length above the torrent.
I've got to get closer!
There was only one way. Hooking his feet behind the wooden posts on the far side of the bridge, he lowered his whole upper body over the other, taking the strain on his ankles.
Demaratos's face contorted with terror. He began desperately paddling against the current, but the river was too strong and dragged him on.

Lysander would only get one chance. As Demaratos came towards him, he reached as far as he could over the edge of the bridge, his fingers straining. Demaratos crashed into him. Lysander grabbed him under the armpits and locked his fingers together.

Immediately, he was pulled along with Demaratos, and his feet jarred against the posts of the bridge. Pain tore through his muscles.

‘Don't let me go! Don't let me drown!' sobbed Demaratos. The current blasted over him, spraying into his eyes.

Lysander heaved on Demaratos's body, and managed to lift his friend out of the water but the pressure in his back was excruciating and his arms felt as though they'd be pulled from their sockets. Demaratos could do nothing but hang; he didn't have the strength to heave himself upwards. Lysander's feet were slipping from around the posts and his body slid further towards the water. He knew he couldn't hold on for long.

‘We have to work together,' he shouted over the roar of the water.

Demaratos kicked hard with his feet. Lysander gritted his teeth and tugged. At first nothing, but then Demaratos began to come up. He kept on kicking, and the slight release of pressure gave Lysander hope. They
could make it. He heaved again, until his joints screamed in pain. Demaratos managed to swing his arm and grab the edge of the bridge. Lysander grabbed his waist and roughly pulled Demaratos on to the platform. They'd done it! Lysander rolled on to his back, as Demaratos gasped for breath beside him.

‘Have you two finished lazing around?' said Agesilaus, wandering casually across the bridge and standing over them.

‘I could have been killed!' said Demaratos. He made a grab at the older boy's legs, but fell short, collapsing back on to the bridge.

‘I always knew that Lysander here would save you,' said Agesilaus. ‘Anyhow, you needed a bath.' He held up the fish. ‘Come on, let's eat your catch and get going.'

Lysander and Demaratos were still soaked to the skin as they headed back to the water's edge, each carrying a bundle of firewood.

‘I can't wait to pay him back,' said Demaratos, his dark hair plastered to his head.

‘Be careful,' said Lysander. ‘He's got a knife.'

‘What?' said Demaratos. ‘We're not allowed weapons.'

‘I saw him pull it out to cut a branch.'

‘What a cheat!' said Demaratos.

When they reached the riverside, Agesilaus was sharpening a stick with the knife.

‘Get a fire going!' he ordered. ‘It's nearly midday and
we've hardly begun today's task.'

As Demaratos arranged the wood over some dried leaves and flakes of bark, Lysander took out his flint. Agesilaus placed the trout on a rock and ran the blade under the speckled belly. He scooped out the guts and threw them in the bushes. Lysander kindled the fire while Agesilaus cleaned the carcass at the water's edge. Then he took the sharpened stick and skewered the dead fish, resting it over the fire's low flame.

‘I thought we were supposed to survive by our wits out here,' asked Lysander. ‘Why do you have a knife?'

‘I never go anywhere without it,' said Agesilaus.

But why keep the knife a secret?