Nemesis (Sparta Online Book 1) Page 6

After hesitating for just a second, Troy followed, hurrying after Plato as the others descended.

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: Splitting the party. You gain 5XP!

  “I hope they’re OK,” said Troy. “I don’t want to leave them to it, really.”

  Plato gestured, and he followed into a cluster of trees at the side of the nearest villa. “Me either, man,” he said. “And splitting up doesn’t really seem like a very good idea, but they rushed off. We’re better here, where we can hide and look out. We need to watch for that warrior approaching.”

  “I guess.”

  None of the nearby residents appeared to have spotted them yet. Plato let the way forward to a bush with splayed sword-shaped leaves, and crouched further down. A bushy cypress tree was immediately to their left, mostly concealing them from where they had just come. Troy crouched close beside him, catching his breath.

  “Plato – you know how the captain said that we should run for our lives?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, I was thinking… what actually happens if you die in this thing?”

  “Andros didn’t explain that to me,” said Plato. “But I mean, what do you think must happen? We would just reset in the starting room, right? Surely.”

  “Would we, though?” said Troy. “The whole point of this place is to train the best soldiers. Are they going to want ones that get themselves killed?”

  “True enough.” Plato’s eyes flicked around to stare at his friend’s, and he then looked back. “We definitely need to speak to Andros. But in the meantime, let’s try to stay alive.”

  “Agreed,” said Troy. And as he spoke, he saw the powerful Myrmidon warrior emerge from the street with the fountain, look both ways, and begin to come up the slope towards them.

  Level: Hoplite (Level 1)

  XP: 0055

  Hit points: 14/14

  Equipment: (none)

  Chapter 8: Weapons and Armor

  The boys crouched even lower in the bushes. The Myrmidon had pulled out his wide-bladed bronze sword, and was approaching with clear violent intent.

  All the same, Troy noticed that the man wasn’t walking directly towards them, but more towards the villa itself. The warrior also stopped every ten yards or so, scanning the ground as if looking for tracks.

  “Damn,” whispered Plato. “He can see our footprints.”

  “Then let’s run,” said Troy.

  “No, wait,” replied Plato, shaking his head a fraction and putting one hand on his companion’s arm. “Hold tight. He might walk right past.”

  Troy wasn’t sure about this course of action at all, but as he watched on, he realized that the warrior was now getting too close for them to be able to escape without being detected. He could even hear the pounding of the man’s feet on the firm dry ground. Troy nodded; he could see that their only option now was to sit tight where they were, and hope that the Myrmidon didn’t see them.

  “Hey!” the warrior called out, and Troy froze, feeling that the game was up. But when he peeked through the leaves again, he saw that the Myrmidon was looking to their right, off towards the villa itself. He tried to peer around, and sure enough, was able to make out the head and shoulders of a gray-haired woman in a long white robe.

  Skill boost! You have developed your survival skills. +5XP

  “Excuse me, warrior,” said the woman. Her tone was wavering, but she sounded annoyed rather than intimidated. “Exactly what are you doing on my land?”

  “Apologies for the intrusion, citizen,” said the warrior gruffly. “But I am seeking four recruits, boys who have run away from the military training ground up at Nikodisia. The little rats need to be taught a lesson.”

  Lies, thought Troy to himself.

  “I have not seen any such boys,” said the woman, “but there was a girl who was hanging around the shed out back where we store our sacks of grain.” Troy could make out the woman’s arm pointing, and he looked around; there was indeed a shed not far from them, a small wooden structure painted with brown resin. Its door was open just a fraction. There was a barrel on its front step, and a stack of firewood off to one side.

  “Very good, citizen,” called the Myrmidon gruffly. “I will look there first. Alert me if you see anything else.”

  “Perhaps, I will, and perhaps I won’t,” muttered the gray-haired woman, and she then turned and moved out of Troy’s line of sight.

  Both boys were now focused on the shed. The Myrmidon approached it, knocked three times against the barrel, and then reached out towards the door.

  At that exact moment the door sprang open, thumping him in the face, and he staggered backwards. A teenage girl – the same one that Troy had seen being viciously disciplined in the training ground the day before – stood up from inside the barrel holding a wooden club, and then swung out, her blow hitting the Myrmidon hard across the head and knocking his helmet clear, revealing the warrior’s cropped light-brown hair. The man grunted in pain and fell to his knees, dropping his sword at his feet.

  “It’s her!” Troy said softly.

  Plato looked around. “You know her?”

  “No. But come on. We’re gonna need to help.”

  The Myrmidon was already rising. He had picked up his sword and was warily approaching the hut again. The girl was now balancing on top of the side railing, and this time she dexterously kicked out at the man’s head, striking him full in the face. It made less of an impact than the blow with her club had done, however. The Myrmidon swung out with his sword towards her legs, and she blocked the blow with the club.

  Troy was now racing across the ground. “Here,” he called to Plato, and reached for one of the pieces of firewood – a straight branch around as thick as his arm, and a yard long.

  The Myrmidon turned, noticing him – but only just in time to see the branch whistling towards his exposed face as Troy swung it fiercely and without hesitation. The warrior fell, dropping his sword again, and clutching at his face as he rolled backwards, groaning. Troy stepped forward, grabbing the sword for himself and dropped the wooden branch.

  Skill boost! You have developed your combat skills. +5XP

  But the warrior was made of tough stuff, it seemed. He sprang to his feet, reaching for the spiked mace that was strapped to his back, and then holding it in front of himself, two handed. As Plato stepped away from the woodpile, now also holding a makeshift wooden weapon, the man looked around warily at his three opponents.

  “Give up, you little rats,” he snarled. “Or I will use this to knock out all three of you. And when you are down, I will gut you slowly.”

  Troy realized that they could easily be defeated if they allowed the warrior to take them on one at a time. Their only chance was to coordinate. He couldn’t easily speak to the girl as she was still perched in front of the hut, and so he whispered to Plato: “I’ll try to trip him, then you hit his hands and knock that weapon down.”

  Whether Plato nodded or not, he didn’t see. Troy waited until the Myrmidon glanced upwards for a brief moment, warily watching for another attack from the female hoplite, and then charged in, throwing himself backwards as he did so and sliding, the sword still held in his hand. On the downhill slope, he slid onto his back and whacked as hard as he could at the warrior’s ankles.

  The impact wasn’t a mighty blow by any means, but it was enough, clanging against the Myrmidon’s iron leg armor and causing the man to stumble forward and fall to his knees as he tried to dodge backwards. Troy then slid to a halt, scraping on the ground, and pulled himself up onto his elbows.

  Skill boost! You have developed your creativity. +5XP

  Health update! You have lost 1 hit point.

  He then saw Plato run in, but then the young man dodged away from a jab from the warrior’s mace without managing to strike a blow. Troy approached again holding his club low, but this time the warrior was too quick; he whirled around and thumped Troy on the chest, causing the recruit to stagger backwards and fall to the ground, winded and g
roaning in pain.

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: Taking one for the team. You gain 5XP!

  Skill boost! You have developed your valor. +5XP

  Health update! You have lost 7 hit points.

  That was when the young woman struck. Raising the wooden club above her head, she cracked it with full force on the top of the Myrmidon’s skull, and the big warrior slumped to the ground. Troy held his breath for a moment, but soon it was clear that their opponent was not going to rise again.

  WORLD EVENT UPDATE: Task completion. You gain 100XP!

  Level up! Hoplite level 2. You have gained two additional hit points.

  Troy picked himself up and walked over, and for a moment the three of them stared at the downed man, hardly able to believe that they had overcome a fully armed and armored warrior. They were little more than three kids with sticks.

  But there he was; the Myrmidon was no longer moving. They had won. And their prize was his weapons and gear.

  But as the young woman began to unstrap the man’s armor, Troy put one hand on her elbow. He had noticed that the old woman in the nearby villa had seen them, and was watching from her step.

  “Come on, this way,” said Troy.

  But the girl pulled her arm away. “It’s all right,” she said. “Who cares if anyone sees? This sort of thing must happen all the time. It’s part of our training.”

  “All the same, can we at least pull him back behind the hut?” asked Plato.

  She sighed, and stood back, pushing her wavy blonde hair out of her face. “Fine. All right, then.”

  They pulled the warrior away from the main thoroughfare. The man was unconscious but was still alive – or at least, alive within the game, Troy thought. Together they stripped him of his gear without looking at any of the loot too closely, and then began to move back up towards the military ground together.

  Skill boost! You have developed your quick thinking. +5XP

  Troy was now carrying the sword, as well as the man’s brown cloak and his helmet.

  “What’s your name?” said Troy to the female hoplite, as they hurried back up the slope.

  “Clio,” she replied.

  Clio was now carrying the man’s bronze armored chestplate. Troy noticed that she had a large bruise across her upper arm and her face was badly scratched. He wondered how his own face was looking after the captain’s attack of the day before.

  “Well listen, Clio. There’s an olive grove off to the right there. Let’s stop there to divide up the equipment that we won.”

  She looked sideways at him, slowing slightly. “My loot, you mean? I struck him down.”

  Troy hesitated, and then glanced at Plato, who was holding the warrior’s sword belt and spear. Plato scowled. “I mean, you did, yeah… But he was our target.”

  “You should get your reward, I agree,” said Troy. “But we helped as well. Right, Plato?”

  “Yeah. I think a three-way split would be fair, man.

  ”I tell you what, Clio,” said Troy, ”you can get first pick.”

  She stopped, glaring at them angrily. “Listen. You are new recruits. Anything you get is a bonus. I got nothing at your stage, when I had only just arrived. Nothing. And the less you have, the harder it gets to get through the remaining trials. You fall further and further behind. And the captains are cruel, really cruel. I’ve been taking one beating after another for a month now. And this” – she raised the chestplate in both hands – “is my chance to change all that. I was smart enough to watch you all leave, and put myself in position, and then I knocked the warrior out. He didn’t land a hit on me. So why should I give up on the prize?”

  Plato was frowning deeply now, clearly just as angry as Clio was, but Troy recalled the way that the young woman had been punished in front of him on his arrival in Sparta Online, as well as his own beating by Captain Theseus. Taking that sort of treatment for a whole month… That had to be hard to cope with, and he sympathized.

  “Look, come on,” he said, walking towards the olive trees. “Let’s sit down and then talk about it. I won’t try to take that chestplate from you, I promise. But we want to get ourselves hidden.”

  Clio eyed him suspiciously, but then nodded and followed.

  * * *

  “Did anyone in your squad help out?” Troy asked with his mouth full.

  He was now sitting with Clio and Plato among the olive trees. The olive workers appeared to be taking a break, and all three hoplites were feasting on the delicious fresh fruits of the trees, as well as some dried meat which Clio had produced from the pocket of her robes. Troy was starving, and the food tasted better than anything he remembered in the real world.

  “The others have been very competitive,” she said reflectively. She was sitting cross legged, still clutching the Myrmidon’s bronze chestplate. “They’ve not been cruel like the captain, but they really don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves.”

  “That sucks,” said Plato, and she nodded with a half smile, and then took another bite of the meat.

  “I know it’s meant to be hard here,” Clio continued. “Captain Semele is always saying how the parents of Spartan troops used to say to them, ‘Come home holding your shield, or on it’. That is to say, come home in victory or come home dead. Clearly this place not designed to provide sympathy for the weak. We must dig in, get tough. It’s the only way to prevail.”

  Troy nodded. “Look, like I said, you can have the armor. Right Plato? It’s too big for you, but take it. You know what – take the weapons, too. I know how hard it must have been.”

  Skill boost! You have developed your valor. +5XP

  “Are you sure about that?” murmured Plato.

  But Clio shook her head. “Thanks,” she said. “I’d appreciate the chestplate and mace, but I’m certainly not taking everything.”

  She looked to the ground, and picked up the mace. The other items included:

  The bronze chestplate

  A short-sword in a sheath, attached to a belt

  A pair of iron leg armor plates.

  A money pouch containing twelve gems.

  A dagger with a bronze handle and an iron blade.

  A bronze helmet

  A brown woolen cloak.

  Clio lifted the dagger, weighed it in her hands, and then put it down again with a sigh. But she looked more determined than upset. “I’m not going to moan to you. I know this is the deal in military training, but… it’s been lonely more than anything. They want that, I think. They want it to suck.”

  “She’s right,” said Plato. “They want to break our spirit.”

  Troy nodded, looking back at Clio. “Our captain is a real shit too. He crushed Plato’s face into the ground yesterday and just about stopped him breathing.”

  Clio scowled. “What the hell? Really? What an asshole. Don’t you think…”

  “What?” said Troy.

  “I don’t know…” She stared around for a moment, and then looked back at them. “Don’t you think something’s wrong, somehow? That the training perhaps isn’t supposed to be like this. I mean, it isn’t really helping us to become good soldiers.”

  Troy shoved the last mouthful of honey cake into his mouth and then leaned back against an olive trunk, chewing. “Mmm… I dunno,” he said. “Maybe. But it seems that they want it to be tough. So they keep saying, anyway.”

  “Maybe the General is just a psychopath,” said Plato. “He designed this world, right?”

  “Right,” said Clio. “But do you think, like… do you think our families even know about the way we are being beaten and spoken to? Or that General, or any of the senator-CEOs of Technoburbia? Do they even care?”

  The boys looked at each other and shrugged. Troy thought that Clio had a fair point. He was getting over the events of the previous day, however – a full stomach and the loot from the Myrmidon was helping a lot.

  “Let’s look into it,” he said at last. “Andros is here to answer questions.”

  “Ri
ght,” said Clio doubtfully.

  “We’ll ask him tomorrow,” said Plato.

  Troy looked at the companion for his dorm. “And you are all right about splitting the equipment.”

  Plato shrugged. “I guess.”

  Clio nodded with a slight smile. “If you’re sure…”

  Troy nodded emphatically. “Now, come on,” he said. “Let’s gather up this stuff, and get moving.”

  The boys helped Clio to strap on the armored chestplate; strangely, it fit her perfectly. “It was the same with my leg armor,” she said. “I think it must be the way the simulation is designed.”

  “That makes sense,” said Plato. “Why bother with lots of sizes when everything is generated by a computer anyway?”

  Clio had already taken the mace, but she hadn’t touched the gladius sword or the Myrmidon’s belt with the dagger. Troy picked up the sword, and then handed it to Plato.

  “For sure?” his friend asked.

  Troy nodded. “We can’t both have it. But I’ll take the dagger, if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah. Take the belt, too.”

  Plato attached the sword to a loop at the base of his light armor, and also took the Myrmidon’s brown cloak and the leg armor. Troy strapped the wide leather belt around his waist, just below his own light armor, and put the wooden makeshift club through a loop where the sword had been before.

  “You take the helmet too, mate,” said Plato, “and that will be a pretty fair three-way split. As good as we can, anyway.” Troy grasped the helmet in both hands, raising it to his head.

  Finally they divided the small gems between them. Each was a small, blue, gleaming sphere with white streaks. Troy kept the purse, attaching it to the belt, while Plato put his in a pocket of the cloak; Clio already had her own coin pouch.