Endymion's Wake

V. Princely Work

Princely Work | Emilios

"That's it, Emilios! Keep after him, don't let him breathe, don't let him think!" Shouted Glaucus.

Prince Emilios chased the foot soldier like a lion after a fawn. He'd done the same thing last week with another man, the poor thing. He could hear the echoes of Chrysanthos' scolding, "Don't play with your food, cousin."

A laugh escaped his lungs as he rammed the hilt of his sword into the man's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Grabbing the collar of the man's armor, he pressed the cold blade to his throat. The man's eyes locked onto him in fear as sweat poured down his trembling face.

"Very good, Emilios," boomed Glaucus, "Finish him off, then take a beat."

Prince Emilios looked at him a moment longer then smiled as he slid his blade back into its scabbard. He gripped the man's forearm and hoisted him to his feet.

"What's your name?" Emilios asked the shaking man.

"Hyllus," said the man, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"You did well until the end, Hyllus. You started to trip backwards as I pursued you and I kept going to stop you from planning a counter. Next time try to push me back," he said, brushing the dirt off his shoulders. "I apologize for tossing you around, my cousin tells me I get lost in the fight sometimes."

Hyllus shakily nodded to the Prince as he clumsily walked to the bench. He gripped it with both hands before collapsing onto it.

"One day, you'll have to kill a man," grumbled Glaucus. "Better in training than on the field."

"As you've said before."

"Something holds you back," pressed his old trainer.

"Today's not the day," replied Emilios flatly. "That's all."

The prince watched as Hyllus chugged and choked on his wine. The tracks of tears shone on his tanned skin as the sun beat down. He looked happy to be alive, but traumatized by Emilios' prolonged taunting. I've got to stop doing that, he thought.

"Diocles, see that Hyllus gets a month's pay in compensation for his work today," whispered Emilios to his attendant filling his amphora.

"Yes, prince."

Hearing the exchange, Glaucus rolled his eyes at his student and took a seat on the bench.

"What now?" Asked Emilios catching the exasperation on his trainer's face.

"You may be the strongest boy I've ever seen. You could spar for a minute or two with Paris or Menelaus, I don't doubt it. But you're too soft in here," growled Glaucus, jamming his finger against Emilios' temple. "On the field, your moments of weakness won't be physical. It takes only an instant for your life to end. Don't waste it with concerns for your opponent."

"This man isn't my enemy, Glaucus," Emilios said, tossing his head back in the direction of Hyllus. "Hyllus, where do you live?"

"Near the ruins of Pisa, your grace," gasped the man, still trying to catch his breath and nerves.

"His home is well within borders of our kingdom. I needn't spill Elean blood for bloods sake. We're not Thracians."

Emilios took a swig of his wine and smiled at Hyllus. His fear unnerved Emilios. He could have taken his life and the man will remember it. He knew his grandfather loved the rumors of how ferocious his heir had become. In the months since their last visit, Emilios had grown half a hand taller and could lift the largest boulder in the arena. He'll love to hear the awed fear in the men's voices when he comes tomorrow. The people feared the king, but not because of his physical strength. No, Vasilis was too old and thin to take on another man in battle, but he wielded for strength. Over the years, random acts of terror kept the people from whispering too much about their inauspicious family and the poor health of the king. Now he'd have him to silence any doubt.

"The red-haired Thracians could teach you much," said Glaucus, breaking his trail of thought.

"Like what? How to burn villages?" scoffed Emilios. "I think I'll pass."

"How to fight with your back against the wall. How to turn your enemies against each other!" Boomed his mentor, ever quick to rage.

"What enemies, Glaucus?" Emilios stood from the bench and strode towards the old general. He could feel his own anger building in his chest. "You talk of enemies, but Elis hasn't fought a war since Troy. The Unrest ended in a whimper. No kingdom would dare strike the home of the city of the gods!"

Diocles and Hyllus eyed the men warily. Glaucus stood and looked up at Emilios' widened eyes.

"You lose yourself too easily. It blinds you. Walk with me."

Glaucus grabbed his cup of wine and walked out of the arena. Emilios signaled for Diocles to stay with Hyllus and promptly caught up to Glaucus walking passed the neighboring baths.

The arena sat just outside the edge of Olympia's sacred city limits. Vasilis built the arena for Emilios' training there to appease the priests' complaints about bloodshed in the holy city. The king often chided the priests indifference to the few men who died during the festival games, but those were accidents. The arena was built for murder.

"I promise to kill a man when the time comes," said Emilios falling in step with Glaucus. "No need to lecture, I assumed we were done with this debate."

Glaucus stopped along the banks of the meandering Kladeos and looked at Emilios with his intense eyes.

"The time is sooner than you think."

Emilios stared bewildered at his paranoid mentor.

"A delegation from Argos arrived this morning for Hera's festival tomorrow," continued Glaucus.

"As they always do. Argos is the favored city of Hera," replied Emilios.

"They brought additional guests, a delegation. Their High Priestess, the Treasurer, and their King's brother, Cepheus. The last is cause for concern. We fought together years ago. I don't know what brings him to Elis, but no good will come of it."

"They seek to formalize an alliance with Elis or offer tribute at one of her oldest temples. No one would dare draw their blade at a festival for the Queen of Heaven. Hera's wrath is legendary," Emilios chuckled at his alarmist mentor's foray into absurdity. He might as well portend the return of the age of heroes.

"Cepheus might not kill, but his visit isn't innocent. I'm sure of it," said Glaucus gravely. "As for the wrath of the gods, he cares not for them or their followers."

Emilios wasn't the least pious member of his family, his grandfather surely held that honor, but to disregard their power was extreme to say the least.

"Elis upholds her sacred oath and obligation to the gods. Any man who acts against them will be dealt with accordingly," replied Emilios, hoping to satisfy Glaucus' thirst for strength.

"And the kingdom that sent him?" pressed Glaucus.

"I've had enough of your hypotheticals," said Emilios with a sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow, old friend."

Emilios walked back towards the arena, leaving Glaucus to stew by the river bank. The small birds flitted through the sky above and around him. He couldn't sing, but surrounded by their sweet songs he envied the lightness of their life. Born knowing their purpose, their meaning. If he could know the feeling for an instant he knew his life would be easier. Instead others usher him around and try to influence his every thought and move. What's my purpose? he wondered.