The God Games

Chapter Three: Preparations

Sparta became a bee hive of activity after the king's proclamation. The God Games are upon us! many whispered excitedly. All the Spartan woman, along with the helots, began to gather the food needed to make a most glorious feast for the gods' arrival. The children were sent with the men who were not chosen to be in the tournament to the fields to watch the practices.

Leonidus watched them constantly, his eyes filled with pride and determination. Men were doing drills with the Captain: running the terrain in full battle gear, throwing heavy stones as far as possible, swimming laps upon laps in the small lake near the city. Spartans fought each other in mock battles, some with armor and weapons, other in unarmed melee combat. There was no rest, and rations consisted of the typical war rations: bits of dried fruit, and thin squares of bread and water. The days were long and the nights of exhausted sleep were short; Captain woke them up well before dawn for more drills, more practice.

The King himself was not immune to these drills. As every king before him who had fought in the Games, the entire land of Sparta weighed on his shoulders heavily. After all, no matter how well his men fought, no matter how many lived or died, won or was defeated, the Games ended with he and Ares' battle.

Ares was the God of War, the God of Bloodshed, of Conquest. He was feared by all who fought in battle, for his wrath and power were not to be undermined. For the past many centuries, the same being had lead this band of god-like entities from the heavens to Sparta. He was twice as tall as any Spartan soldier, and head-and-shoulders above any who followed him. Around his waist hung a belt of skulls, the trophies of those he had vanquished. He was faster, stronger, and more cunning than any mortal man. A creature such as this could only be kin of or Ares himself. And it was King Leonidus' honor and destiny to do battle with him, as all the previous kings in the Games had.

A few days later, Leonidus looked over his camp. Some where resting, the sweat poring from the morning's exercises and drills. Stelios and a few others where polishing their helmets and shields with sand (a Spartan would never disgrace himself by going to war with dirty weapons or shield). Many of them had the beginnings of dark circles around their eyes. The constant exercise was starting to take a toll on them, even on their hardened spartan bodies. They needed their spirits lifted; if the gods came now, they would be sorely disappointed in the lack of challenge.

"Captain!"

Captain Artemis quickly strode over to Leonidus, looking around and trying to see what had caused his king to call out. "My King?"

"Remove your cloak," Leonidus said, with a small, mischievous grin. The request caught Artemis so off-guard that he did the worst thing a Spartan could do: he questioned his King. "Sir?"

"I won't ask again," Leonidus said quietly, but still grinning. "Remove your cloak, Captain."

The Captain complied, but was now extremely confused. The conversation had also been brought to the men, who stopped whatever they were doing to watch the exchange. Captain Artemis had a right to be confused: when a Spartan was on duty, he wore his red battle cloak. To be asked to remove it while on duty meant the Spartan was relived of his duty, a dishonorable discharge of the time.

While Artemis undid the brooch that held the red fabric together on his shoulders, everyone was startled to see their King mirror the Captain's actions, removing his own cloak as well, still grinning. They both flung the fabric to the sides, out of the way. Leonidus got into a fighting stance, which the Captain mirrored with enthusiasm. The Spartan King and his Number One Captain were going to spar!

There was complete silence for a few minutes as they stared each other down, Leonidus with a easy grin of anticipation, Artemis wearing one of unsure enthusiasm. He had not spared with Leonidus since he had become Sparta's King, he wasn't sure what the protocal was. Was he supposed to let his King win through a subtle mistake on his part? Or should he put up a decent fight? But what if he did and embarrassed the King in front of the men...?

Leonidus did not give the Captain a chance to ponder his conundrum further before he lunged. If not for his quick reflexes, the Captain would have received one hell of a shiner. Without thinking, he dodged and blocked the second punch coming at him. He twisted under Leonidus' arms, but the King anticipated the move and stepped to the side, blocking the Captain. Unable to stop the momentum necessary to carry him through the move, the Captain used the only outlet available, and shoved Leonidus away as he forced himself back up. Off-balance, Leonidus tried to regain his footing, but fell flat on his back.

There was a stunned silence from both the watching Spartans and Artemis, who had a look of pure shock on his face. The whole thing had only lasted a few seconds, and he had been acting on instinct. "My King!" he said, reaching down to help the Spartan leader on his feet. Leonidus was shaking his head in an almost dazed fashion, before looking at the offered hand. He grabbed it as though to help himself up.

Captain Artemis was not exactly sure what had happened. One moment he as offering a hand to his king, the next he was on the ground instead and Leonidus was over him, hand to his throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing more difficult. "Forgive me, My King..." he gasped, trying to pry the hand away instinctually.

"Never apologize for winning," Leonidus said loudly for all the hear, looking directly into his eyes with calm power, "and never let down your guard." With that, he let go of Artemis, who started coughing as fresh air hit his lungs. He looked up to see Leonidus holding out a hand to help him up. "You think too much, my friend. Let us duel for real this time, fair?"

"Aye, Sir," Captain said. He should've known Leonidus would never had lost his balance that easily! The King had simply used him as a demonstration for the other Spartans to learn from. He hoped some of the warriors would keep that in mind for the Games.

Taking the hand and helping himself up, he took the preemptive and launched a punch towards the King's abdomen. The fight was on!

There were several rounds between the King and Captain. Similar to a boxing match, they would spar a moment or two and break apart, only to fight again. The Captain had brute strength on his side, but Leonidus was fast and agile. It was too even to call.

The men's support was divided; some shouted for the King and others for Captain Artemis. There was no punishment for those who supported the Captain; this was a simple exercise to rally the troops for the upcoming fights of their lives. Leonidus used this simple sparing match to both give tips and hints to the men, to help them with victory, and to show he was going to be alongside them for the ride as well. After all, they may win their battles, but he alone would have to win the war.

Both men were bruised, and the Captain was spitting out wads of blood every once in a while, but neither was ready to finish up the sparring match. Both were enjoying themselves greatly.

"Get him my King!" Stelios roared.

"He uses his feet, take them and take the King!" an older Spartan warrior, Dithruge, called out. He was an excellent fighter, and despite his age (he was close to thirty-eight, old for a Spartan) he was one of the chosen Spartans for the Games. He had an eye for spotting his opponent's attacks and tactics, and excelled in hand-to-hand combat. Some teased that he was a Roman gladiator in disguise, to which he would growl angrily and stalk off. Now, whoever, he was enjoying himself greatly.

It was the final round; both were beginning to tire. They took up their stances again, and waited for the unsung signal to attack each other, when someone shouted over the roar of the crowd "My King, They've arrived!"

All the Spartans turned in unison to look up into the afternoon sky. Though the sun was bright, and he had to squint to see anything, Leonidus could in fact see a growing speck in the sky, and could in fact hear the thunder in the sky. As the speck grew, they could begin to see the shining chariot descending from clouds of light and thunder. Faster than any lightning bolt, the chariot came lower and lower until it flew over their heads. All the Spartans crouched and covered their ears from the deafening sound. They watched the strange chariot descend onto a small mountain that overlooked the city. The chariot all but disappeared, and the thunder died.

The Gods had arrived!

Leonidus turned to his men, all standing in awe at the shining chariot. The grin on his face stretched from ear to ear. "Time to welcome our honorable guests!"