Where The Day Takes You (open)

[Astinos]

The sun beat down upon his sweat streaked skin. The warmth was much welcomed. He took a drink from the vessel of water then, allowing the now forgotten ladle to fall beneath the clear cool surface of the water with a splash. His dark eyes lifted to the sun and it seemed to grow brighter, even if only for a moment. It seemed to the young warrior that perhaps Apollo was trying to lure him from Ares' favor but that would never be.

Astinos knew where his loyalties lie. Other gods may promise many riches but not would ever hold his heart. What good were things that did not make a man more fit for War? His large hand returned to fit smoothly within the protection of his shield. It fit perfectly. It should. He had been born for such things. Honor, duty, valor, all of those things ran through his veins just as surely as the blood of his ancestor's.

He and a small contingent of his fellow warriors were training this morning just outside the tall city gates. They'd already been at work for several hours. He, just like every other young man his age, had been conditioned so well that he could go for another day or so without rest. He returned to his sparring partner and the clash of sword and shield. Astinos moved swiftly, easily, for what he lacked in experience he made up for with sheer strength and talent.

[Iolanthe]

Iolanthe was exhausted, but she had to get to Sparta. They were the only force formidable enough to even hope to stand up to Xerxes. She was grateful for good weather, though it was so hot - not conducive to the cloak was wearing over her Persian costume. She didn't own anything else, and the last she wanted was to be gutted for her style of dress. Days of travel had taken their toll, and she stifled a yawn with the back of one hand - then paused. Wary.

She heard swords. That's what she moved towards; Io bit the tip of her tongue as she slowed; she could see, and hoped that wasn't an illusion, the walls of Sparta. Oh gods, please. Yes. But the nearer she got, the more unsure her relief became...until she crested a formidable hill and saw them.

Spartans. It would be nearly impossible to get by unnoticed, and here were a group of soldiers - very, very athletic soldiers, with swords...gods! Nonetheless, she had to try. Maybe they would assume she was a dark skinned Spartan? And give her no notice. Maybe, if she was lucky.

She glimpsed the ladle in the water container, and glanced down to her hands. Her left had been cut across the palm - a not so bright escape from Xerxes. She thought water might help to prevent infection. It stung. Io hesitantly started towards the water; then a clash of swords startled her. Io glanced to the side, to see a black haired Spartan, and his sparring partner. She froze. Not out of fear so much as...awe. Watching them was practically watching a dance. It was choreographed, from the flexing of muscles to the swipe of the blades.

"You do have a chance." Against Xerxes. She said it very quietly, almost inaudibly. She hadn't believed it, all the rumors. But this...this was something.

[Astinos]

Astinos spun on his heel. He dropped to get in a strike against his opponent and avoid one that might otherwise have beheaded him. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend and remarked, "Where did you learn that move?"

"From an Arcadian Sculptor?" He quipped with a serious grin as he pushed into the other with his shield to further unbalance him, "Right about now I'd say that thats about all your hands appear to be good for."

His partner fell backward, but countered with an impressive roll. Astinos smiled. The only way to keep a Spartan down for long was to kill him first, "Impressive. Watch your back!"

He swung in a wide arching motion only to find his sword meet against another third shield. He couldn't complain though, it was the Spartan way. A man was only as good as the one at his side. They all watched each others flank thereby assuring that blade met metal versus flesh. He caught sight of a woman walking alone. She was beautiful but too dark to be a Spartan. He held up his shield and said, "Hold!"

He wasn't a commander but it was expected that he would follow in his father's footsteps. He shook the strands of hair out of his face and adjusted his shield and placed the sword into its place at rest in his belt. The ivory cape moved majestically as the wind caught it. He, like his comrades, turned to face the stranger with out saying a word. His dark eyes moved over her form, assessing her curves but also whether or not he could expect trouble from her.

She didn't appear to be diseased and so he motioned toward the water with a lift of his shield and a nod. He lifted his chin, his eyes not quite able to maintain the stern nature of his posture. He was curious. He wondered where she was from and why she was dressed in such a heavy cloak. He was warm, but then he thought that she would be warm to. Curiosity getting the better of him, Astinos strode over to the water and lifted the ladle to her, "Why do you wear such a garment?"

He'd never seen anything with such adornments, with possible exception of some of the nobles who passed through the King's court. Her eyes were different than any he had seen prior. He was growing inpatient as he waited for her to drink. Spartan men treated women better than most but that didn't mean they had unearthly patience or were not arrogant about the independence granted, "Are you going to drink the water?"

[Iolanthe]

"Hold!"

Oh no. Oh no no no no...she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the soldiers, but as they had the swords and she had...well, she didn't, Iolanthe stopped too. She blinked at the one who seemed to be in charge, and as he studied her with dark eyes, she stared right back at him, expression almost blank. She'd fight if something happened. Their clothes were spectacular, and so was his face. Guess the rumors about Spartan physicality weren't false either, because...well. She was a little speechless.

He gestured to the water; her shoulders eased of the tension, and she nodded her thanks and continued hesitantly over, keeping her peripheral vision on the Spartans. If they made a wrong move, she was going to be off like a deer. The leader of the group of warriors strode over to the water tank first, but as he held the ladle for her, she didn't think it was that dangerous.

"Why do you wear such a garment?"

Iolanthe frowned.

She hadn't heard Greek in so long, she barely remembered it.

"Ah...would it be wiser to run amuck nude?" Io asked after a moment, raising an eyebrow. "It's all I own." She was still hesitating, but his snappish impatience broke the reverie of uncertainty.

"Yes," she managed, a little indignantly, "Shall you count the seconds I have to swallow too?" Then bit her tongue. This was not the best way to get help... "I apologize." She cupped the bottom of the ladle in her hands and did help to tilt it, so that she could take a drink...

And as soon as the cool, fresh water hit her tongue and throat, Iolanthe was certain there was no better water in the world. She drank, without pause, until the ladle was empty - then paused, to catch her breath, and glanced at the Spartan who'd held it.

"Thank you. Your hospitality is much appreciated." Even gave a very slight smile. "Are you..." She hesitated again. "Are you King Leonidas?"

She had no idea what Leonidas' looked like or how old he was, so for all she knew this handsome man was the king. Wouldn't that be fortunate?

[Astinos]

The youth stood casting a long shadow across the ground, his brown hair catching the wind along with the cape upon his broad shoulders and seeking to hide his face from the woman before him.

"Ah...would it be wiser to run a muck nude?"

"Wiser?" He asked, actually considering her question for a moment. A smile formed in his eyes, unable to really allow himself that luxury with a stranger. His eyes traveled down her body once again, a tinge of the heat she made him feel showing on his cheeks. He swallowed then as he moved the ladle closer to her mouth, "No. I don't think it wise at all."

"It's all I own."

That he understood well enough. He nodded in response. He only had his uniforms, basically just a few changes of the codpiece he now wore and then of course two of the ivory woven capes he now wore and two of the vibrant Spartan red worn only in battle or ceremony. Before that he had worn only a humble cloth wrapped to cover himself as was tradition. He was waiting for her to drink the water, not that his arm was tired, he could hold the weightless thing aloft indefinitely.

"Yes," she managed, a little indignantly, "Shall you count the seconds I have to swallow too?"

Curse the woman, for when she raised the pure refreshment to her lips he did just that. He watched her with such interest that he might as well be counting. He heard one of the others call out to him then, something derogatory that he chose to ignore. Something about him being too young or too accustomed to the company of men to know how to deal with the stranger. He actually blushed, but did his best to hide it. He cleared his throat and found a spot on the horizon as she tilted the water to her lips. He lowered the ladle then, his height so much greater than her own.

"I apologize."

"Excuse me?" He'd heard her apologize but he wasn't sure just why. Puzzled for a moment he just looked at her. After she was finished drinking he took the ladle from her and dipped it into the container of water before bringing it back to his own lips. His throat was suddenly very dry.

"Thank you. Your hospitality is much appreciated." Even gave a very slight smile. "Are you..." She hesitated again. "Are you King Leonidas?"

He started to nod in response to her thanks, his mouth happily taking in the cool water. When she asked him if he was King he nearly spat the water all over her. He didn't, instead he choked back the contents of his mouth, a bit of water forming at the edges of his eyes. His humor had been awakened now and she received an uncharacteristically broad smile. Had he been alone with his friends he would have really laughed at her. The knowledge that she was unknown to him held him in reserve, "Do you wish to see him?"

"I serve the King and all of Sparta," he added proudly with a puff of his chest. He had only recently been appointed to his father's men though he had trained in their shadows for years. He had spoken enough to her now to feel it appropriate that he at least reveal his name, "I am Astinos, son of the finest Captain in all of Sparta."

[Iolanthe]

Iolanthe was glad he didn't press about the clothes issue. It made her think better of him. She felt odd about leaving him to stand there while she took a drink; should she have offered to take it? Was that the right course of action? Oh, well, it didn't seem to bother him, per se. When she glanced up over the ladle, she was looking right at him - she was so surprised and embarrassed, she almost bit the ladle. Instead dropping her gaze. Gods. He really was waiting for her to finish. When she finally did, she gave an apologetic half shrug.

His perplexity at the apology was met with an equally bemused, "Nevermind." She thought much better of him now. He wasn't easy to offend, which was a change. Xerxes was extremely sensitive. And paranoid. Psh. And he called himself a god. One look at a Spartan soldier; hell, this soldier, he ought to be running in the other direction. Iolanthe gave a brief smile as he took the ladle himself, but her question soon chased it off. He seemed about ready to choke, which completely mystified her.

"Are you alright? Do you need...should I get something?" she asked, a little anxiously. If he just happened to get sick...right here...she would be in big trouble. Besides, he had not been cruel towards her; she would have grieved the loss. Iolanthe started to step forward - did he need to be hit on the back or something? His eyes even looked a little glassy...

He grinned.

She recoiled. And scowled. Was it a joke? Was she missing something? Oh gods, maybe her Greek was worse than she thought. A moment's thought was spared for the fact that he had a really nice smile, for a Spartan - regardless, she wasn't too fond of people poking fun at her, and crossed her arms, expectantly,

"Something funny?"

Io was disappointed at the realization it wasn't the King. But tried not to let it show, because it certainly wasn't his fault, and it made sense. Despite the decrease in her wary relief, she couldn't help but smile at the pride carried in his voice. Iolanthe nearly laughed, but suppressed the urge with difficulty - she didn't want to offend him, it was just...

He was enthusiastic. It was...it was endearing. And she didn't doubt for an instant that he would be son of the Captain - that would have been, what, a second in command? He had very good skills. Perhaps the Spartans had a good reason to brag.

"Astinos. That is nice," she remarked, "I am..." Yasmin. That was distinctly Persian. So she'd decided to take a Greek name instead. Wouldn't do much to get arrested or killed without a chance to explain herself, "...Iolanthe."

She debated whether or not to tell the Spartan, Astinos, why she had come. But she had a feeling no one in their right mind would traipse a stranger up to their king without a reason, and besides, the king might just decide to kill her unless she had someone who could, well, vouch for the fact that wasn't a crazy woman. And Io found Astinos appealing for honesty, so with a slight exhale - getting up her courage, she stepped forward, so that she could speak quietly, and looked at him.

"I want to tell you something," Io said evasively, "And I swear it's not an endangerment to you or your king. But you must promise not to hurt me for it first." It was a terrible thing to request, and awfully vague, but nonetheless, she repeated, very seriously, "I want your word as a Spartan that you won't hurt me for it."

[Astinos]

((OOC: Building on his past here as I learn more about history.))

"Are you alright? Do you need...should I get something?" she asked

He shook his head. He did not need help from this woman, any woman. He, like every other boy at eighteen who wished to become a man, had murdered a helot with his own hands. What did he have to fear from a few drops of water? He had learned much about himself that dark night. Thankfully he had found it easier than the death of his best friend at fourteen by his own hands. They had been sparring with the sticks that would later become spears and each had been told to treat the other as an enemy.

A quick blow to the head was all it took from the larger Astinos. Only a few minutes into the fight. His best friend lay broken at his feet, blood pooling near his sandals. He had learned an important lesson that day, once he joined his father's army he would watch many friends die. It had been difficult to ignore the pain of that loss, but he had done so. Just as he had stood longer than any other as his back ached and bled to the shouts for joy and cries of pride escaped his mother's mouth in the Diamastigosis.

Winning that great day was why he was here, months before he might otherwise have been. He was not yet nineteen, not yet old enough to serve. He had passed all tests, all rites of passage. He was a man and men fought. He looked down at the woman, the stranger. He knew enough of life to know that when asked not to punish or get angry in response to something unknown usually meant that that something was wrong or bad.


"I want to tell you something," Io said evasively, "And I swear it's not an endangerment to you or your king. But you must promise not to hurt me for it first. I want your word as a Spartan that you won't hurt me for it."

"I cannot make promises to thin air, Iolanthe." He frowned in response to her question. Her request, if she proved to be unworthy of the audience with Leonidas could bring great harm to Sparta, and to his family, "I can take you to my King but I cannot speak for his or any other's actions. I can promise nothing. Do harm to any I have sworn to protect and I will cleave you in two."

He glanced over his shoulder at his friends and they joined them both each man taking up a position at his back. Several place their hands on the hilts of their swords, "She wishes for an audience with Leonidas. What say you my brothers?"

[Iolanthe]

(Very spiffy ^_^)

He said no.

Damn. Iolanthe closed her eyes, if only to keep her expression blank. She had overestimated, and now had only succeeded in making the Spartan suspicious.

"You're just full of reassurances, aren't you, Astinos?" she murmured under her breath, sarcastically. She waited until she knew she could look at him - and the others, without giving it away. Gods, gods, she didn't want to die. Her heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute; she could not catch a breath but was afraid to gasp.

Surely this wasn't her fate. To die, today. The gods couldn't be that cruel. She blinked at his question, and stared at the Spartans standing at their brother's back. Iolanthe's eyes darkened with frustration, and beneath that - fear. A lot, a lot, a a lot of fear. Damnit, she was sick of being afraid of men! And she was not going to be intimidated!

If they killed her, so be it. Then the Spartans deserved to die. She would be free, and...forgiven. Maybe. This had to balance out all the other things she'd done.

Iolanthe's words were decidedly more detached this time, "If you have any hope of defeating Xerxes, you'll not lay a hand on me," she said, with only the vaguest tremor of anxiety in her voice. She was studying their hands, near their swords - and that didn't reassure her at all.

Iolanthe stubbornly crossed her arms, glaring at Astinos.

"I'm not a criminal," Io insisted, "And I'm not your prisoner. I will go into Sparta with you, but I won't have all of your friends surrounding me with swords." Period. That was her bottom line. "You can check me for weapons, if it makes you feel better, but I couldn't fight you. You know that." She knew that. Unfortunately.

[Dienekes]

"..I won't have all of your friends surrounding me with swords."

*****

"She is either possessed, foolish, or very confident" Dienekes responded to Astinos with a chortle. "Myself, I am inclined to think it is the former" he shouted, "Or perhaps a combination of all three" he added, earning another chuckle from his audience..

"YOU ARE IN SPARTA NOW!" he boomed, "and aren't in any position to command her soldiers". He could be quite the orator when he so wished, it seemed. "You mentioned Xerxes, persian, care to elaborate?" he asked, his voice controlled once again. "Those who know Leonidas also know the consequences for wasting his time" he used emphasis on the word consequences, enjoying himself thoroughly.

"I leave the choice to you, Astinos" he decided, "Either way, she'll soon be surrounded by you and 'your friends' ". To accentuate the point, he clutched the hilt of his chosen weapon, the spatha.

[King Leonidas I]

Pausanias was leaning on a tree, eating a fruit when he observed the Persian and his fellow Spartans. He was the apple of his uncle's eye, the great King Leonidas. He had been sparring earlier but he stopped now to enjoy this fresh fruit. At first he only saw the back of this Persia n's cloak and disregarded her but when the conversation sped up to this level he decided to see what was going on. When he caught sight of the Persian, the Playboy of Sparta was entranced. He smiled, she sought an audience with Leonidas his uncle. This he could use to his... advantage. She was now in his sights and he would have his way, especially if she wanted to see his uncle.

Pausanias approached the circle and held up his hand for silence. "My brothers, we have nothing to fear from this..... woman. She shall not be harmed."

He grabbed her chin gently and examined her figure, "Hmm, yes I shall see what she wants and judge if it is worthy enough to go to my uncle. Come Iolanthe."

He was now possessed with desire and was growing increasingly excited. This power he was exercising enhanced this. He beckoned for the woman to follow him as he approached the city.

He smiled and looked back at her "Come now, I wont hurt you." he spoke in a soft soothing, friendly tone. He extended an arm for her to hold onto.

[Astinos]

"You're just full of reassurances, aren't you, Astinos?" she murmured under her breath, sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed on her. This was not boding well for her survival, nor for her chance to see the King. For a stranger to stand with such venom on Spartan land was nothing but a death wish. He was not accustomed to women behaving like she was, his mother had never raised her voice to his father. At least not that he could remember. His mother was a good woman. Her words alone and the memory of how she had shouted 'Do not fall my son. Stand tall, stand strong! For Sparta! For Sparta!' as the lash tore at the flesh on his broad back still provided him with strength. Even to this day. her love for him and her sacrifice helped to remind him of all that was important.

This young woman, despite her great beauty, was obviously not as bright. As she crossed her body with her arms, he did the same. He was not worried, he did not need his sword. His arm was securely strapped within his shield.

"If you have any hope of defeating Xerxes, you'll not lay a hand on me," she said.

Fear rode upon the currents of her words like a gull over cold waters. Barely present tremors shook the musical quality of her voice giving her the sound of a caged animal. Where once she had been a brightly colored bird she was now wolf. And like a cornered wolf she was lashing out against all that could overpower it.

"Now I know that you are not from Sparta," he said with a bit of unintentional disappointment. His eyes met hers and admittedly the message conveyed was one that stressed his inner unhappiness with how this was going. She was afraid and that disappointed him greatly for some reason. He could never say so but he had hoped she was simply an unknown Spartan maiden. But no Spartan woman would ever show fear, especially to a stranger. It was his time now to close his eyes.

"I'm not a criminal," Io insisted, "And I'm not your prisoner. I will go into Sparta with you, but I won't have all of your friends surrounding me with swords." Period. That was her bottom line. "You can check me for weapons, if it makes you feel better, but I couldn't fight you. You know that."

A serpent did not need a weapon to kill.

"She is either possessed, foolish, or very confident" Dienekes responded to Astinos with a chortle. "Myself, I am inclined to think it is the former" he shouted, "Or perhaps a combination of all three."

A smile formed on the Captain's son's lips, but it did not last. He knew what was coming. Dienekes was a good friend and an even better Spartan.

"YOU ARE IN SPARTA NOW!" he boomed, "and aren't in any position to command her soldiers. You mentioned Xerxes, Persian, care to elaborate? Those who know Leonidas also know the consequences for wasting his time."

Astinos also knew that his friend was fond of the sound of his own voice. Thankfully, he used his words well. Often this was at the expense of Astinos' composure. Though he seemed to be holding his own at the moment, surprisingly enough.

"I leave the choice to you, Astinos" he decided, "Either way, she'll soon be surrounded by you and 'your friends'."

"His words are true. Persian." He said finally, his voice deceiving in its apparent calm. He paused, not enjoying himself at all but knowing that he was doing the right thing. He just didn't want to think of her as an enemy for some reason that he couldn't put his finger on easily. He spoke now with an authority that his youth might otherwise cause those near him to question if they hadn't known of whose footsteps he was expected to follow in, "Tell me why you want to speak with Leonidas or your journey into Sparta ends here."

At his words all but Dienekes moved now to surround her. He now stated what should be obvious to her now. Still he felt the need to warn her lest she seal her fate, "Choose you words carefully, Iolanthe, you are a visitor here. You have no rights."

"My brothers, we have nothing to fear from this..... woman. She shall not be harmed."

The King's nephew, Pausanias. Astinos could not protect her from him, nor could he deny the other man's royal blood. He stepped back, not really wanting to but he couldn't afford to make a scene, not over a woman. And not with so much at stake. He had only just joined the Army. Still he didn't like the way the Playboy touched her. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

"Hmm, yes I shall see what she wants and judge if it is worthy enough to go to my uncle. Come Iolanthe. Come now, I wont hurt you."

[King Leonidas I]

Pausanias was amazed that this man continued to be rude and threaten this woman with not seeing the King when clearly he had taken her into his protection. He turned around, now quite displeased. He looked to his younger comrade and approached him so that they were face to face.

"Now you listen here, I will decide if she is my see my uncle. You accuse her and talk to her as if she has done something wrong! Leonidas would not approve of this interrogation of one seeking refuge in Sparta!" he stressed "I" and "My" and said them with anger. He really did not care at this moment what Leonidas truly thought but said his statement none the less.

He made a fist and raised it to eye level, "She now has one right, the right of my Royal protection and you will act as such. Is this understood?" he was now pulling rank on the boy and using his birth to influence the conversation.

He did not wait for the boy to answer and then looked back to the woman. "Come Iolanthe, forgive my comrades for forgetting their manners." He quickly changed his voice back to that charming, calm voice. He cared little for what the Spartan's reply was. If he said anything about it, Pausanias would bring it up with the King. Pausanias would not be robbed nor delayed of his pleasure by some disgruntle warriors.

[Iolanthe]

YOU ARE IN SPARTA NOW!

She didn't flinch. Though she pursed her lips hard enough for it to hurt. Xerxes screamed at her too; she was used to that. But when he said Persian, she knew that it was blown. Everything that could possibly go wrong...

"I assure you, your King wants to hear what I have to say," Iolanthe replied defiantly, though she managed to bite her tongue before snapping back out of temperament. The older Spartan warrior gripped his sword, and Iolanthe was now surrounded by too many swords. She did not want to die. She should have never admitted who she was. This was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake. She should have run when she had the chance, what was she thinking?! Was living under Xerxes' thumb any worse than getting sliced into a bloody mess?

She thought she knew the answer to that. But she was having serious second thoughts. When Iolanthe had heard of the Spartans, had heard Xerxes rage about them, she had this vision of...well, obviously things weren't going so well. She just couldn't believe she'd been so naive.

Now I know that you are not from Sparta.

She looked at Astinos, resigned with a nearly inaudible sigh. "I would have confessed it myself, if I had the time," Iolanthe said, "I'm Persian." She nodded towards Dienekes, indicating he was right in his judgment - though she wasn't thrilled about it.

"Tell me why you want to speak with Leonidas or your journey into Sparta ends here."

Damn. Damn, damn, damn! She didn't want to say it here, not in public. She already wasn't giving a stellar representation, by the threatening - and disdainful - demeanors of the Spartans. Admitting she was one of Xerxes' concubines who escaped probably wouldn't make her sound much better. Though, well, she was technically a dancer but...neither were very high esteemed careers.

"I-"

While she was trying to think of how to explain it, yet another Spartan approached, and Iolanthe glanced between Pausanias and the others. She shall not be harmed. Well that was the assurance she had asked from Astinos. Before Io could feel any sense of relief, the Spartan newcomer grabbed her chin - she nearly recoiled in shock. She didn't like it.

It reminded her of how Xerxes would grip his slaves, before he bought them. Examining them for worth. But despite her misgivings, this Spartan did promise to get her into the city. And he was related to the king! And she wouldn't have a large group of very hostile, very armed men looking at her.

Iolanthe hesitated.

But Pausanias stood in front of Astinos' face and...well, reprimanded him. While Iolanthe was grateful for his help - she hadn't done anything, yet, and thank the gods she wasn't going to die here - Astinos had been protecting his king. And in his position, she would not have trusted a stranger. In fact, she felt she ought not be trusting the eloquent Spartan who defended her.

"She now has one right, the right of my Royal protection and you will act as such. Is this understood?"

Iolanthe glanced up at the words, his tone shifting like syrup, to one more reassuring. Despite his charisma - and it was there, and his words, which might have just rescued her from death...there was something about this Spartan that made her uncomfortable. He was so smooth, and so charming - she didn't trust it. But what was the alternative? He promised to take her to Leonidas.

And that's what she needed. And maybe she was just being paranoid? He did help her. And he did not seem that bad. She just had bad experiences, that was all. In a matter of minutes, she'd be before the King, and none of this would matter. RSo, Io complied, though it was a little reluctant on her part.

"I'm sure they are just looking out for the...interests of Sparta. There is nothing to forgive," Iolanthe said finally, before she did step around the other soldiers to accompany Pausanias to the palace. She did, however, pause before Astinos.

"I am sorry," she admitted with a very brief smile. "This was not at all what I intended, and I do wish you believed that." Io paused. She was at a loss for how to explain it. So she didn't. "Thank you for your help, Astinos."

And that, was that. There was nothing else to say. So Iolanthe glanced at the Spartan gates and at Pausanias, and she joined her guide. If Leonidas was anything like these soldiers, she was going to have a very difficult time of this. But it would be worth it. Once the fear and the adrenaline faded - she'd remember. What Xerxes was, and why he had to be stopped.

[Dienekes]

"She now has one right, the right of my Royal protection and you will act as such. Is this understood?"

Pausanias was repulsive, even to Dienekes, who was warned of his exploits. To address Astinos in such a tone.. to order him in it! He couldn't permit that, he wouldn't permit that. Rage consumed him, a explosive combination, and his Spatha slithered from it's sheath. Astinos was respected by the Spartans, more then Pausanias ever would be, and that is as it should be!

"I must have misheard you" he informed Pausanias, his voice dripping in venom. "I could've sworn you questioned the judgment of Astinos, eldest son of Artemis, son of Sparta!" he said, "Of course, I must be mistaken". Perhaps an execution was nigh, to question the nephew of Leonidas was a risk indeed. If this was the case, he would die in accordance of his morals, just as he had lived.

[/color]

[King Leonidas I]

Pausanias laughed, who was this? Pausanias commanded the respect of the council, the respect of the King, and all those loyal. He looked to Astinos' sowrd. "I would best hold that in its place, If something were to happen to me, Leonidas would not be pleased, also you would be condemming Sparta! If Leonidas was to fall, his son is far to young to rule. He has already told me and the council that should he fall, I will be regent until the young Prince is 21. That means I would be forced to rule Sparta for 16 years. Would you condem Sparta to 16 years of confusion and civil war?" The man spoke with authority and with truth. He was to rule Sparta in place of Leonidas should Leonidas fall before his son is of age.

He laughed again "It would not be in your best interest then to do me harm, for even your father could not save you from Leonidas' rath and that of a greiving Sparta. So, keep your sword, and yourself, in place. The reputation of Sparta is at stake!" He enjoyed himself here, he was in such a wonderful position. Perhaps the boy had never been to the council and heard one of Pausanias' speaches. He may be a party boy to pass the time but in politics and leadership, few made his match. He was not the greatest fighter in Sparta, better than any untrained Greek mind you, but lacked the skills of many of his more brash and ruff citizens of Sparta.

"Yes, Astinos and Dienekes, I understand you act in the name of Sparta, but I know my uncle. I do not think he would approve of such mistreatment of this woman, even if she is not a Spartan." He had calmed now and spoke as if nothing was wrong.

"Come, my brother's here are just a bit ancy about outsiders, especially one dressed as yourself in this time of war." He said looking to the lady.

"Let us talk more in the shade and with refreshments at my father's home."

(Hisotrically he does become Regent of Sparta and does a pretty good job, He also lead all the Greek armies against Persia ad defeated them with crushing victories and stopped any hope of Persia invading again. He was later killed though, but thats long off.)