Author: Mark A. Roeder
Date: 2025-02-03T13:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Lgbtq+; Gay
Description: Nikias is amazed by the speed of Alkides, who he races against in the Isthmian games. He even wonders if the older boy is the god Apollo in disguise. At Delphi, where they race again, he realizes Alkides is only a boy, although a rather amazing boy. While in Delphi, Nikias receives a disturbing prophecy from the oracle and his life and that of Alkides become entwined. Nikias knows that he must lose all he loves to gain the deepest desire of his heart, but what is that desire and is it worth the cost? Nikias is a story of young love in Ancient Greece, during the war between Athens and Sparta.
Publisher: Salf Published

Nikias

Nikias

© 2025 Mark A. Roeder

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  All trademarks are the property of their respective owners and no infringement is intended.

Cover Design: Ken Clark

ISBN: 9798307798966

All Rights Reserved

Acknowledgments

The amazing cover for this book was created by Ken Clark.  He, along with Jim Adkinson and David Tedesco put a great deal of time and effort into correcting my numerous typos and other errors.  I appreciate the hard work of each.

A Special Thanks to My Patrons

This book was made possible in part by my patrons on Patreon.com: Russell Harkins, Albert McCann, Victor Freeman, Mark Andrews, Robert Powell, John F Callow, John Smeallie, Paul Covert, Ken Clark, Jon Lukas, Martin Jaragosky, Markus Seemeier, Cameron Smith, David Manfredi, John Webb, Urban Skeppstedt, Terry Jones, Andi, Evan Marshall, Dale Bay, Victor Thomas, Mark, Jerry Bradshaw, Yancey, Joshua Coleman, Ernest Clark, Douglas Rayner, Greg Howard, Jack, James Holtz, Tony Marquardt, Jim Hertwig, Daran Willis, John Hawk, Gerasi, Stephen Duff, Herbert Gasser, Michael Manosca, James Thomas, Steven Wall, Gerasim and Bob Kimberlin.

Look Behind The Scenes

Patrons get the inside track on my novels, sneak peaks, serial novels and other perks.  They even get to read my novels before they are purchased.  Even if you can’t become a patron, check out my page because some posts are public.  There is even a free trial period.

Check it out: https://www.patreon.com/user/posts?u=8324548 or go to patreon.com and search for “gay youth novelist”.

Other Novels by Mark A. Roeder

Also look for audiobook versions on Amazon.com and Audible.com

Blackford Gay Youth Chronicles:

Outfield Menace

Snow Angel

The Nudo Twins

The Very Troublesome Ghoulish Bizarre Boy

Phantom World

Second Star to the Right

The Perfect Boy

Verona Gay Youth Chronicles:

Dark Angel

Ugly

Beautiful

The Soccer Field Is Empty

Someone Is Watching

A Better Place

The Summer of My Discontent

Disastrous Dates & Dream Boys

Just Making Out

Temptation University*

Scarecrows

Scotty Jackson Died… But Then He Got Better

The Antichrists

Bloomington Boys—Brandon & Dorian*

Bloomington Boys—Nathan & Devon*

Lawn Boy

Bloomington Boys—Scotty & Casper*

Two Boys & A Funeral

Bloomington Boys—Tim & Marc*

Bloomington Boys—Elijah & Haakon*

Bloomington Boys—Banshee*

Brendan & Casper

Someone Is Killing the Gay Boys of Verona

Keeper of Secrets

Masked Destiny

Do You Know That I Love You

Altered Realities

Dead Het Boys

Dead Boys of Verona

This Time Around

The Graymoor Mansion Bed and Breakfast

Tadzio – A Death in Verona

Shadows of Darkness

Heart of Graymoor

Come Back to Me

Skye & Colin

Marshall Mulgrew’s Supernatural Mysteries

Christmas in Graymoor Mansion

The Fat Kid

Brendan & Casper: Older & Better

Light in the Darkness

Transitions

Three Months

Dream Lives

Farm Boys

Wicked Intent

The Ghost in My Closet

The Not So Secret Garden

Second Chances*

There and Back Again: An Adventurous Boys Holiday

Big Brothers

The Worst Swap Ever

Lost in Tydannon: The Battle for Holbytlaton

Bloomington Gay Youth Chronicles

A Triumph of Will

Temptation University*

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Yesterday’s Tomorrow

Boy Trouble

The New Bad Ass in Town

Bloomington Boys—Brandon & Dorian*

Bloomington Boys—Nathan & Devon*

Bloomington Boys—Scotty & Casper*

Bloomington Boys—Tim & Marc*

Bloomington Boys—Elijah & Haakon*

Bloomington Boys—Banshee*

Phantom Begins

Peralta’s Bike Shop

Hate at First Sight

Born Too Late

Colin University

The Youngest Frat Bro Ever

A Boy Toy for Christmas

Purrfect Book and Curiosity Shoppe

Hoosier Boys

Second Chances*

*Crossover novels that fit into two series

Adam Bluestone Novels:

Teen Idol Secrets

Falling Star

Take Two

Suddenly Real

Other Novels:

Nikias

Cadets of Culver

Lake Maxinkuckee Summer

Benji & Clyde

Fierce Competition

The Vampire’s Heart

Homo for the Holidays

For more information on current and upcoming novels go to markroeder.com.

Introduction:

A Two Minute Course in Ancient Greek History

You can read and enjoy this novel with absolutely no knowledge of Ancient Greece, but this information will help you get more out of it.  Most think of Ancient Greece as the great city-states of Athens and Sparta, but in truth there were more than 1,500 city-states.  Most were small, more like villages than towns or cities.  They were also mostly separated by the mountainous topography of Greece, which is why most people travelled by sea rather than by land.  The city-states existed, for the most part, in a near constant state of warfare in the warmer months.

Slavery was everywhere, so much so that there is no record of anyone considering that it might be wrong.  Slaves could be of any race and were hard to distinguish from those who were free.  A slave was someone unlucky enough to be captured and sold while traveling or a women or child taken as a prize from a defeated city (the men were generally all slaughtered).  Anyone could become a slave at any time.

Religion was such a part of life there wasn’t even a name for it.  Religion was everywhere and a part of everything.

Lastly, the Ancient Greeks never referred to themselves as Greeks.  The name is a modern creation.  They called themselves Athenians, Plataeans, Corinthians, or some other name based upon the city-state where they lived.  Greece was not a nation then, but more than 1,500 city-states of various sizes.  Hellas comes closest to describing all of what we today know as Greece.

Glossary for Those Who Want To Know More

Alabastron—small jar for perfume and oil.

Chiton—tunic.

Crown—the most prestigious prize at any of the games, made of olive, laurel or other natural materials.

Erastes—older lover of an eromenos

Eromenos—a youth who is the object of love for an erastes.

Fibulae—broach used to hold the material of a chiton in place on the shoulder.

Himation—cloak, usually wool, worn in the winter months.

Kantharos—two handled cup.

Kithara—stringed musical instrument related to the lyre, with a special connection to Apollo.

Kylix—wide and stemmed wine cup.

Krater—large vessel for serving wine.

Lekanis—covered footed jar for storing small items.

Orchestra—circular performance area in a Greek theatre.

Skene—permanent wall that acts as the backdrop in a Greek theatre.  Our word scene comes from skene.

Stade—sprint race for one stade (192 meters or the length of the stadium.)

Strigil—a wide bronze blade used to scrape olive oil from the body before bathing.

Stirrup jar—a storage jar used during the middle to late bronze age for storing olive oil and wine.  The name comes from the handle that resembles a double stirrup.

Games:

Olympic (Olympia)—held on the first full moon after the summer solstice every four years.

Pythian (Delphi)—held in the summer (modern August) of the third year after the Olympic games.  Bay laurel crown.

Isthmian (Isthmus Sanctuary, near Corinth)—held in the spring of the Olympic year and again in the spring of the second year after the Olympics.

Nemean (Nemea)—held the second full moon after the summer solstice the year before and after the Olympic games.

Order of Games: Olympic, Isthmian, Nemean, Pythian, Isthmian, Nemean, Olympic

Running Events:

Stade—one end of the track (in the stadium) to the other, about 200m—sprint, test of speed.

Diaulos—two stades, about 400m

Dolichos—distance event between seven and twenty-four stades.  (set this at 24 times for the novel)

Other Athletic Events:

Wrestling

Boxing

Pankration—empty handed submission sport—no biting, striking the groin, or gouging out eyes.  Otherwise, anything goes.

Pentathlon—five events: long jump, javelin throwing, discus throwing, stade, and wrestling.

Chariot races.

Musical & Other Contests:

Hymns to Apollo

Aulos (reed pipe)

Kithara (with or without singing)

Painting

Helios—the sun god and name what the Greeks called the sun.

Chapter One

The Agora of Athens

435 B.C.E.

“Close your mouth, Nikias, or you might swallow a fly.”

I grinned at my brother, Alastor, eight years my elder, closed my mouth and tried to look as if I was not overwhelmed by the vast agora.

I had gawked as my brother, our slave, Draco, and myself had neared Athens.  I had thought our home, Plataea, a great city, but Athens made it seem but a tiny village.  Homes spread out away from the city in every direction, further than I would have thought possible.  I could not begin to count the number of homes we passed before we reached the agora, the marketplace of Athens.

The agora was filled with sound; talking, arguing, bartering, bangs, clinks, calls and thuds.  Dust rose into the air from feet without number disturbing the dry soil.

Here, it seemed as if everything in the world was available for sale.  We passed booths selling dyes, exotic scents from other parts of the world, fruits I had never seen before, jewelry, cloth and on and on.  To my twelve-year-old eyes it seemed the most wondrous place on earth and looking down upon it all was the Acropolis, with its great temples, including the temple of the goddess Athena.

We passed a seller of ‘fine’ pottery.  I looked at my brother and raised my eyebrow.  None of what was offered would pass as fine in our workshop.  Alastor put his finger to his lips, but he need not have warned me to keep my opinion to myself.  It was unseemly to ridicule the artistry of another.

The agora was crowded with people of all sorts from merchants to slaves purchasing supplies for their masters to men gossiping and conducting business.  On one side I briefly glimpsed an older man speaking to a group of youths and wondered if he was one of the sophists, perhaps even the Socrates we had heard about even in Plataea.

I had time for only a glimpse as my brother rushed us through the agora.  We could not be late if we were to catch the boat that would carry us to the Isthmian games near Corinth.

We left the agora behind and a few minutes later walked between the long walls that led to the Piraeus, the greatest port in the world.  There was room enough for a city between the walls, which stretched for more than a league to the port.  I had heard of Athens, the long walls and the Piraeus described by those who had been here, but everything was so much larger than I had imagined.      Once we entered the Piraeus, we were surrounded by carts traveling this way and that, slaves and porters loading and unloading cargo and people, more people than I thought existed in the entire world.

Draco’s eyes were nearly as large as mine.  He was the same age as my brother, purchased by my father a few years before he died, in the market at Plataea.  He had been raised almost as a member of our family and was nearly a second elder brother to me.  He was Persian.  He had told me once his real name was Darayavahush, but no one in Plataea could pronounce it and so he took the name Draco.

I stood and waited with Draco at my side while Alastor inquired about our ship.  He soon beckoned to us and we followed.  It was then that I spotted my first warship, then another and another.  Each was carefully stored in an immense boat house with its sails and mast down.  I could see only the prows with their giant eyes, but the ships seemed to extend back into their stalls forever and ever.

I could not tear my gaze from them until Draco gripped my shoulder.

“Look.”

I turned and there was a warship coming into port.  Its sails were furled and it glided smoothly as its rowers powered it slowly toward yet another boat house on the shore.  I had never seen a ship so big.  Then again, I had seen no ship before today but it looked unthinkably large to my young eyes.

Draco and I smiled at each other, but kept up with my brother.  He would not be pleased if we trailed behind and he could be prickly at times.  He had been the man of the house since father died and had raised me as if I was his son and not his brother.  He did not well tolerate disobedience.

A few minutes later we stopped in front of a large ship already filled with cargo.  It was not nearly so big as the warships, but still looked enormous to me.  Alastor spoke to an imposing and well-formed man I soon learned was the captain and then beckoned to Draco and me to approach.

“Take it out,” Alastor said.

Draco carefully removed the large pack he had carried from our home/shop/workshop set it down, opened it and then removed the layers of olive leaves used to cushion the precious krater, the large vessel made to hold wine, inside.  He pulled out the krater, wrapped carefully in linen and unwrapped it, revealing the incredible work of art for which my brother, and myself to a lesser degree, were known.

“Magnificent.  I think I have the better side of this bargain,” said the captain as he gazed at the carefully fashioned reddish figures on a background of black; a ship with sails and rowers, sea life and more.

He called for one of his men to take it and carefully stow it, then slapped my brother on the back and led us onto his ship.

A krater for passage to and from Corinth.  Many would think the captain mad, but we did not create much in the way of common pottery.  In our workshop, my father had created pieces that outshone the best Athens had to offer.  My brother had followed in his footsteps and had trained me since the time I was young.  We did not create mere pieces to use, but treasures to be shown off and admired.  That is why I had scoffed at the pieces I had glimpsed in the market.  Their decoration was crude to my eyes.  I could do better when I was eight!

We were allowed a small area on the ship for our own.  It was not much more than a space to sleep, but we did not need more.  My brother said the voyage to Corinth was not a long one.  We could have taken the land route, but travel by sea was faster.

I was given the run of the ship, as long as I stayed out of the way.  I gazed at the busy port and out at the sea.  We lived not all that far from the sea, but I had not seen it before today.  It looked vast beyond imagining to me and I began to get an idea of just how far away some of the places I had heard about were from my home.  The world had grown larger on this day.

I stood in amazement later, gazing at all the activity as the rowers guided us out of the harbor, which was no easy task with the numerous boats, great and small, coming and going.  There were mostly cargo ships, but also fishing boats and even small row boats.  Ours was a world of travel by sea and it seemed to me all the boats and ships in the world were gathered here.

The winds were favorable and the sails unfurled when we were out of the harbor.  We picked up speed and the coast began to slowly slip past our starboard side.

I gazed out across the wine dark sea.  Somewhere out there was the island of Crete, the Cyclades and Troy, where my ancestors had fought in the war still sung about.  The sea was the path to the entire world.  It could take one anywhere.

The rocking of the ship unsettled my stomach and I felt not at all well.  I tried sitting down and closing my eyes, but that only made the feeling worse.  After a bit, I had to run to the side of the ship so as not to make a mess.

“You will grow used to it, boy.”

I turned and spotted a sailor with bulging muscles gazing at me, eyeing me like customers appraising kraters, hydria, amphora, kylixes and skyphoi in our shop.  The way he gazed at me made me breathe harder, as did his muscular arms and bronzed skin.

“Nikias, come,” my brother said, putting his hand on my shoulder and leading me to the other side of the ship, where he turned to me.  “You must stick near either myself or Draco.   You are too pretty a boy for safety.”

“I am not a child,” I said.

“You are not a man and until you are, you are my responsibility.  This is not Plataea.  There will be strangers everywhere on this trip, some who are quite happy to take advantage of others.  Boys like you have been stolen away to be sold as slaves far from home before, Nikias.  There are those who will kill for an obol and those who would use you for their pleasure.  Do you understand me, Nikias?”

“Yes, I am not naïve.”

“You are more naïve than you think and that is the danger.  You are but a small boy in a wide world.  No, don’t bristle at me.  I am not insulting you.  I was once your age.  I know what it is like.”

“You were not much older than me when father died.  You stepped into his place.”

“Yes, and I want better for you.”

I furrowed my brow, unable to comprehend.  My brother had occupied a man’s place before he was a man.  He was respected in Plataea even though he was now only twenty.  He had even increased our wealth in those years through his wise administration of our workshop and savvy investments.  How could I have better than him?

That night, we slept under the stars.  I could hear the murmuring of the sailors, the billowing of the canvas sail and the waves hitting the sides of the ship as I lay between Alastor and Draco.  The constellations crept ever so slowly overhead as the leagues passed under the hull of our vessel.

I awakened only once during the night.  I carefully stepped over Draco, crept to the side of the boat and relieved myself over the side.  The air was slightly chill and I returned to my place and watched the stars until I fell asleep again.

There was not much to do on the boat and certainly no room to run, but I easily passed hours gazing out upon the sea and at the coast forever on our starboard side.  I sometimes spied schools of fish and twice I spotted dolphins.  I had seen them on frescos and painted them on pottery before but the real creatures now swam by our ship as if escorting us and came up right to the surface.  I wondered if they were as curious about the ship as I was about them.

I spent much time watching the sailors, some of them no older than my brother, and some not that many years older than me, but all well-muscled from their toil.  They moved around the ship, tightening and loosing ropes, adjusting sails and performing a myriad of tasks necessary to keep a ship underway.  I envied them for the places they had visited.  Perhaps, they sailed all the way to Asia or even to Egypt.  Even if they only traveled back and forth from Athens to Corinth they were not stuck with the same view and the same people day after day.  Plataea was a small city, where everyone knew everyone and their business.  A part of me longed for life at sea, but I was likely better off with the life I knew.

We had only a handful of days on the sea, far too short a time as far as I was concerned, but as Alastor had explained, our journey was only around the island of Salamis and then across what amounted to a large bay.  We were not in the wider sea at all, but the sea seemed plenty wide to me.

When we disembarked, I found it a bit difficult to walk on land at first.  I had not realized it when we were at sea, but I had learned to walk on a deck that was constantly in motion, swaying from side to side and up and down.  I was sick only at the beginning, luckily, but I was glad to be on land again.

I soon adjusted to walking on solid ground that did not move unless Poseidon determined it should.  We still had a fair journey ahead of us because Corinth was some distance from the sea, on the far side of the isthmus.

“Why did we not cross the sea on the far side of the isthmus instead of taking the route we did?” I asked as we set out.  “Would not our journey have been far shorter?”

Alastor smiled.  “I wondered when you would ask that.  It took you long enough to think of it.”

“I have been too busy taking in all the sights and seeing things I have never seen before.”

“That is why we took the long route, and why we shall return the same way.  I wanted you to see Athens, Piraeus, Salamis and all that you would not have seen on the shorter route.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

My brother did not let me get away with much, but he was thoughtful and put me before himself.  He was kind to everyone, but was also not someone it was wise to anger.    He once struck a visitor in the Plataean agora for roughly shoving Draco aside.  When the man commented that Draco was merely a slave and therefore of no importance, Alastor nearly struck him again.  I think he would have done even more, but the man took note of my brother’s anger and scurried away.

Draco was our slave, but we treated him kindly.  Our father had taught us that we should treat others as we wished to be treated.  It would take only a whim of the gods for us to become the slaves of another.

I do not know how the man knew Draco was a slave.  It was often difficult to tell by looking.  In Plataea at least, slaves were dressed as well as their masters.  To allow a slave to appear ill kempt in public brought disgrace upon their owner.  It was likely different outside the city where slaves worked the land, but that is how it was in our city.

I was not accustomed to long journeys by land, but the journey from Plataea to Athens was greater than that from the sea to Corinth.  Oddly, I was accustomed to running long distances and for that reason would have preferred to run instead of plodding along, but Alastor and Draco did not share my love of swift movement.

We walked on and on and on.  The scenery here was not much different than what I was accustomed to so I shall skip to the end of our journey.

“There it is.  See it on the horizon?  The great city of Corinth,” Alastor said.  “It is not as vast as Athens, but far larger than Plataea.”

“Isn’t every city?” I asked.

“No.  Most are not a tenth the size of our home.  Most aren’t cities at all, but villages.”

I shrugged and took my brother’s word.  I did not know much about the wider world.  What I knew I learned from my brother and from listening to travelers who came into our shop.  It was hard to imagine journeying to other shores so far away it took weeks to get there.  The world was without end.

“Tell us about Corinth,” Draco said.

“It was founded by King Sisyphus, known for his trickery and twice cheating death.”

“He must have been smart if he was able to cheat death,” I said.

“Smart, but foolish.  Zeus punished him by dooming him to Hades where he must forever roll a large boulder up a hill.”

“Oh, he is that Sisyphus,” Draco said.

“I never understood why he could never get it to the top,” I said.

“Because Zeus will not allow it.  It always rolls back down before he can reach the summit.”

“I am glad I am not a king,” I said.

“He was punished because he was dishonest, among other things.  Unless you change greatly, little brother, you will never have to eternally roll a boulder up a hill.”

“Tell us more,” I said.

“The grandson of Sisyphus, Bellerophon, had the winged horse, Pegasus.”

“I would love a winged horse.  Will we see it?” I asked.

“No, that was long ago.”

“Oh.”

“Jason also settled here with Medea after his search for the golden fleece.”

“I don’t suppose they are around?” I asked, causing Draco to smile.

“No, that was also long ago.”

“Why did everything interesting happen long ago?  The present is boring.  I feel like I have missed everything and nothing exciting will ever happen again!” I said.

“There is great excitement left in the world, little brother.  You are lucky you have not seen most of it.”

“Lucky?”

“Not all excitement is good.”

“Oh.”

“There is excitement in your future, of the good kind.  The Isthmian games start tomorrow.”

“Which I shall win!” I proclaimed.

“You are fast, Nikias, but the fleetest of foot in all our world will be here.  They are determined to win as well.”

“Then I pity them!  I shall win everything from the stadion to the dolichos.  Another shall only win the hoplitodromos because I do not have armor to wear.”

“Even if you did, that race is for those older than you,” Alastor said.  “I will be very pleased if I make it even close to the final rounds of the pale’.”

“No, you shall win as well.  You always beat me when we wrestle.”

“I am twenty.  You are twelve, Nikias.  Of course, I beat you.”

“Draco is not twelve.  He is your age and you beat him.”

“Only because I let him,” Draco said with a grin.

“You are a liar, Draco,” Alastor said.

“I would be if I expected any to believe it.  In truth, I try my hardest always and yet he defeats me,” Draco said.

“And you shall defeat everyone here!” I said.

“The best wrestlers from everywhere will be here,” Alastor said.

“You shall beat them all.”

“I will do my best, but only one can take home the crown.”

“When we return with our crowns, the entire city will turn out to welcome us.”

“A good part of Plataea would turn out to greet us if either of us came home with a crown.  There is little greater glory than winning at the games.”

“I can already see a bronze statue of me in the agora.”

“You will not be able to run at all, Nikias, if your head continues to swell,” Alastor said and mussed my hair.

In truth, I was not as confident as I boasted.  I was fast and could also run far, but I had never competed.  I never dreamed I would have the chance.  Plataea had not sent athletes to games in recent times.  We traveled at our own expense.  The trip was costly, but Alastor said that life was for living and one never knew when it would end.  He wanted this experience for all of us.

Corinth was not as vast a city as Athens, but it was still great.  It took a long time for us to reach our destination after we passed through the city gates.  We were staying with a guest friend of our father that I had never met.  Alastor had, but he was younger than me when father’s guest friend, Thales, resided in our home.

It took only a moment for the door to open when Alastor knocked upon it.

“I am Alastor.  I seek Thales, guest friend of my father.”

“Guest friend?” came a voice from inside.  An older man stepped into view as the slave who had opened the door ducked out of the way.  “Alastor?  You are not Alastor!  He is only this tall!”  Thales said, holding his hand about three pous from the ground.  I laughed.

“This looks more like Alastor, but no, you are too handsome,” he said, smiling at me.

I grinned.

“This is my younger brother, Nikias.”

“Your father was a good man.  I was much distressed when I heard of his death, but come in, come in.”

The three of us followed him inside.  The home was sizable, with plastered walls and a stone floor.  It reminded me somewhat of our home.

“Bring out the wine, the good wine.  We need bread and cheese and forget what you had planned for supper.  We need something suitable for guests,” Thales ordered as he led us to low couches around a central hearth.

I was not accustomed to reclining on a couch and was relieved when my brother merely sat upon the edge.  I did so as well.  We had a room like this at home, which we used only for the reception of guests.  Most of the time, we sat upon ordinary chairs, which was something commoners did, but even though my family was respected and had a fair amount of wealth, we were not in the highest tier of Plataean society.  I didn’t give a fig about that, but I knew Alastor expected me to behave when I was a visitor.

A slave brought wine and also small cakes, which turned out to be seed cakes sweetened with honey.  The wine had a slight sweetness to it as well.  It was different from the wine at home, which I would have expected had I thought about it.

“You have come for the games I take it?” Thales asked.

“Yes, but not only as spectators.  I will be competing in wrestling.  Nikias is quite the runner and intends to compete in all the races, except for the hoplitodromos.”

“I would stay out of that one, too, if I was you, Nikias.  I always thought those who run in armor outside of a battle a bit on the unbalanced side, although not so much as those who compete in the pankration.”

I smiled.  I liked this man.

“You won’t catch me in the pankration.  It’s far too brutal and I’ve heard too many tales of maiming.  I might try my hand at boxing someday, but never a combat game with so few rules,” my brother said.

“Yes, such brutality belongs only on the battlefield in a fight to the death,” Thales said.  “I wish you both luck.  Perhaps you can both return to Plataea with a crown.”

“That would be a tremendous honor, but I have warned Nikias that the best from many cities will be here and it is difficult to be the best of the best.”

“True enough, which is why I never competed.  I was good at many sports when I was younger, but not skilled enough to complete.  So, you are a runner, Nikias.  How fast are you?”

“I am the fleetest of foot of those my age in Plataea and I can beat many of the older boys as well, but I cannot outrun them all.”

“Excellent, perhaps you will have a chance for a crown in the younger age group.”

“I certainly wouldn’t have much of a chance against men,” I said with a grin.

“Actually, he would have more of a chance than you’d think,” Alastor said proudly.

“I love to run,” I said.

“Which makes him very fast with errands.  He never seems to walk when he can fly,” Alastor said.

“Ah, the energy of youth.  So, what’s the news from Plataea?”

I listened as Alastor spoke of things I already knew, such as the tensions with Thebes, which was very old news.  Thebes was an ally of Sparta.  Plataea an ally of Athens.  We were currently at peace, but as my brother had told me, peace was nothing more than a breather between wars.  Corinth was an ally of Sparta as well, but our father was a guest friend of Thales and the games were sacred.  Whatever conflict existed was put aside during the games and all participants and spectators were guaranteed safe passage.  The gods would severely punish any who harmed them.

“I am being a terrible host.  You look bored, Nikias,” Thales said.

“What?  Oh.  No.”  I had drifted off and at first hadn’t realized he was speaking to me.

“Sitting still is never easy for the young, especially for one with such a fondness for running.”

“This is the longest he’s sat still when not working in a long time,” Alastor said with a grin.

“Markos!  Is Markos here?” Thales called out.

A slave appeared, one with startling dark red hair.

“He went to the market, sir.”

“Go fetch him.”

The slave nodded and quickly departed.

“Markos is my youngest.  He’s perhaps a couple of years older than you.  You’ll have more fun with him than us old men.”

I grinned at Thales calling Alastor old.

The slave returned so quickly with Markos that he must already have been nearly home.  Markos entered and immediately walked to his father.

“Yes, father?”

“I would like you to show Nikias around for a bit.”

Markos turned his gaze toward me.  At first, his expression was stern, as if he did not want to be bothered with me, but then our eyes met and he smiled.

“It will be a pleasure.  Come, Nikias, there is much to see.”

I stood and followed him out of the house.

I was glad to be away from the dull conversation, but I would have been pleased to accompany Markos in any case.  He was a good six inches taller than me with black hair, brown eyes, broad shoulders and a slim but pleasing build.  I found him quite handsome.

“Is this your first trip to Corinth?” he asked.

“It is my first trip anywhere, but we came through Athens.  It is a great city.”

“Not so great as Corinth, I’m sure.”

I had not seen much of Corinth yet and I disagreed with the words of Markos, but saying so would have been rude.

“Corinth is far larger than Plataea for sure.  That is where we are from.”

“You must be excited to be here then.”

“Very much so.  My brother and I are competing in the games.”

“You’re competing?”

“Yes, in some of the running events.”

“Ah.  I am too slow for running events, but I might try boxing or wrestling someday.”

“My brother is competing in wrestling.”

Many of those near eyed me as we passed and Markos drew me in almost protectively.  He placed his hand on my shoulder.

“I am not strong enough for wrestling.”

“You look strong to me,” I said.

“That is because you are small.”  My eyes narrowed.  “That is not an insult.  You are young and so you are small.  In two years, you may well be my size.”

“Very well then.  My brother says I get angry too quickly.  I sometimes get into fights.”

“Does he beat you for it?”

“Oh no, but he is confusing.  He says that fighting is not the way to solve differences, but he also says it is good practice for battle.”

Markos laughed.  “I think he means that it is best to settle disagreements with words.  Even so, fighting does give experience.”

“Do you get in fights?”

“I am a boy, so naturally I get in fights, but not many.  I am older and wiser than you, so I have more sense.”

I began to draw myself up to argue, but then took in the slight smile on my companion’s lips.

“You are baiting me.”

“Yes, I’m seeing if you are smart enough not to get angry.”

“I am!” I said and trudged forward.  Markos quickly caught up with me.

Markos eyed me and smiled often as we walked together.  I wondered if he thought of me as an unsophisticated and ignorant boy, but perhaps that was only how I felt walking in this large and unfamiliar city.  This was a grand place, with wide paved streets and buildings of stone.  The acropolis with its temple complex reminded me of Athens.  Plataea was a small place compared to this.

Those passing gazed at me so often I began to feel self-conscious.  I looked down to see if I had stained my chiton, but it was clean.

“Why do so many look at me?  Surely, visitors are not uncommon here, especially now.  Corinth must be filled with visitors for the games.”

“Have you never gazed upon your reflection, Nikias?”

“I have gazed back at myself from the surface of water many times.  What of it?”

“You are beautiful, Nikias, with your slim physique, handsome face and gold hair.  Come and I will show you something.”

I followed along beside Markos through the busy streets of Corinth.  Around us flowed people of all ages.  Many looked as if they were from faraway lands and I often heard languages that were strange to my ears.

“That is the Temple of Apollo,” Markos said, pointing to a large stone structure with massive columns supporting the roof.  “What I want to show you is in the stoa over here.”

Markos led me to the long, roofed colonnade.  Upon the back wall were depictions of Apollo.  Markos took me to one in particular and I could see why.  There was the god Apollo, caressing the cheek of a boy, and that boy looked much like the one who gazed back at me when I peered into still water.

“Even the gods desire boys like you.”

I blushed as Markos caressed my cheek much as Apollo did the boy on the fresco.

Markos removed his hand and began walking.  I hurried to catch up.  We walked through the growing crowds into an agora, smaller than the one in Athens, larger than the Plataean agora, similar to both and yet different.  As in Athens, I was amazed at the activity and the things available here.  I had thought the world came to Plataea through the merchants, but there were things here I had not seen before.

Markos walked up to a stand and bought a small pot.  He returned to me and held it out.

“Try some.  It’s honey from bees that feast on wildflowers.  It is different from other honey.”

He stuck his finger into the pot and then popped it in his mouth.  I did the same.

“It’s sweet,” I said.

“Oh, you are a scholar.”

I shot Markos a glare I did not mean and he laughed.

“It tastes… stronger and like violets.”

“Have some more.”

We took turns dipping our fingers into the honey as we walked through Corinth, slowly leaving the hustle and bustle until we reached an area with many trees and roses growing in such number, they scented the air.  It was quieter here, almost still.

Markos scooped out the last of the honey with his finger and then fed it to me.  I sucked it off his finger, enjoying the last of the sweetness.

Markos set the small pot on the grass, turned to me and gazed down at me.  He caressed my cheek again, as he did by the Temple of Apollo and then leaned down and kissed my lips.  My eyes widened.

I wasn’t sure what to do as Markos pulled back and stroked my hair.  I had never been kissed before and it sent sensations rushing through my entire body.  When Markos kissed me again, I kissed him back.

His tongue tasted like honey, as did his lips.  I liked the way his tongue felt as it slid around and over mine.  It was almost like our tongues wrestled.  I liked his lips, too, so soft and ever moving.

My phallus reacted and stiffened as it did sometimes.  It almost hurt, but was also amazingly pleasant.

We kissed for several long moments and then Markos pulled away.

“We should return.”

I nodded, although I was not sure I wanted to return.  I wanted to remain here, with Markos.

“Can I ask you something, private?” I asked as we began to walk back the way we had come.

“Certainly.”

“When we kissed, something happened, down below.”

Markos softly smiled.

“You grew stiff.”

“Yes.  Is that what is supposed to happen?”

“Yes, if the one who kisses you is good at it.”

“Have you kissed often?”

“I have a suitor, so yes.”

“Do you think I will have a suitor someday?”

“Most certainly.  I would be your suitor if I was older and you lived here or I lived in Plataea.”

“How old is your suitor?”

“He is twenty-four.  He teaches me how to fight, how to speak, how to interact and how to behave and not bring shame upon my family.”

I nodded.  “I wish you could be my suitor.”

“It makes me happy to hear you say that, but one will come along soon that you may like even more than me.  Just remember, you do not have to settle for the first and you do not have to accept a suitor if you do not like him, although I am sure your brother will tell you these things.”

“He is like a father to me.”

“He seems both stern and kind.”

“That is Alastor.  He only tolerates so much misbehavior and some things he does not tolerate at all, but he is not cruel or violent.  He did take a switch to my behind a few times when I was younger, but I deserved it,” I said, grinning at the memory, not of the punishment, but at the foolish things I had done.

“You do strike me as a boy who is as mischievous as he is beautiful.”

“I have a mischievous side.  It sometimes gets me in trouble.”

“No doubt.”

“Actually, my brother told me that it is okay to get in trouble, that I should get in trouble, as long as it is not too big.  He said it is the best way to learn and experience life.”

“That is most unusual advice.”

“Yes, he warned me that doing so has consequences and that I should consider those consequences before acting.”

“That is wise.  You are lucky to have such a brother.”

“I know and so I try to behave, mostly.”

“Mostly.”

I grinned.

It was nearly time for supper when we returned.  I washed up in the room I shared with my brother and then joined the others in the dining room, where I was relieved to see a large table and chairs.  I had never much cared for dining while reclining on a couch.  I found it awkward and more than a little silly.

“Did you have fun with Markos?” Alastor asked from his place at my side.

I looked across the table at Markos for a moment and we grinned at each other.

“Yes.  He showed me part of the city.  He is an excellent guide.”

“I do hope Nikias behaved himself,” Alastor said to Markos.

“Yes, I was proud to be by his side.”

“The question is, did you behave yourself, Markos?” Thales asked.

“I was on my best behavior, Father.”

“I suppose that will have to do then.”

“I have a feeling Markos and Nikias are much alike,” Alastor said.

“May the gods help you then,” Thales said and laughed.

Markos shot me a commiserating look.  It was always sad when adults attempted to be funny.

The household slaves brought in bread, olive oil and olives, along with wine.  I liked that Thales addressed them kindly and by name.  I could tell by the way the family interacted with them that the slaves were well-treated and valued.  I had a feeling they were considered much like members of the family.

Draco assisted.  At home, he ate with us, but here he would eat in the kitchen with the other slaves.  I wasn’t entirely happy with that, but it was the way things were.  The table here was so large that I wondered if the household slaves ate with the family when there were no guests.

Slaves were everywhere in Plataea, Athens and Corinth.  I was certain they were in every city.  Being on the losing side of a battle could turn one from a free man into a slave, although usually the men were slaughtered and the women and children became slaves.  It all seemed rather extreme to me, but it was the way of things and no one, not even the slaves themselves, questioned it.

Soon, fish was brought out, most likely caught that day.  I liked fish and most other food from the sea, except oysters.  Luckily, we had enough wealth we did not have to eat them.  To me, they seemed nothing more than slugs in shells.

“This fish tastes different,” I said.

Alastor gave me a warning look, likely fearing I was about to insult our host.

“I mean it’s extra good,” I said, smiling.  “There is a seasoning we do not use.  Perhaps dill and there is also a hint of… fennel.  I wouldn’t think I’d like it on fish, but it’s excellent.”

“You have discerning tastes.  Zosime introduced us to it.  Fennel is widely used to season fish in her land.”

“We must grow more fennel,” I said.

“You may grow more fennel,” Alastor said.

“My tasks are never done,” I said.

“Don’t let him fool you.  Nikias is pampered like a prince.”

“Some pampering!” I said, then grinned.

“The younger generation never appreciate what they have,” Thales said.

“Please, father.  No tales of when you were a boy,” Markos said.

“I will spare you for the sake of our guests.”

I liked this family.  They got on with each other very well and Markos was so handsome.  I wished I could be alone with him again, but I valued the time I’d spent with him.  I could still almost feel his lips pressed against my own.

Chapter Two

Isthmian Sanctuary

I stood near the starting line, gazing at the other boys.  I was the youngest and smallest of the group.  The sun was broiling hot as it always was this time of year and I wondered if it was not worse for the spectators in the stands than it was for the runners.  Only a short time ago I had been in the relative cool of the gymnasia, but those watching the games had been in the sun all day.  Alastor was among them, as well as Draco, Markos and Thales.  Before we parted, Markos told me he wished that the gods would be with me.

I drew in a hot, dry breath as I caught sight of a golden-haired youth—older, taller, and stronger than I.  He was beautiful, so beautiful he pushed even Markos out of my mind.

Ignore his loveliness.  Focus on winning this race.

I had prepared for the race by running through the tracks and slopes of Mount Cithaeron in the early mornings and after the day’s work was done, but these were the finest young runners from throughout the city-states of Hellas.  How could I beat them all?

You are running not only for our family, but for Plataea and the god Apollo.

The words of my brother rang in my ears.  He did not tell me I must win, but it was clear that it was his desire.  If I could do this, if I could win, a statue of me might even be placed among the others near the Temple of Hera.

Our family had a special connection to Apollo because he was a far ancestor.  I know that many claim descent from a hero or even a god, but in our case it was true.  Apollo had fathered my many-times great grandfather, long ago before the age of heroes.

I had seen Apollo once or at least thought I had.  I spotted a beautiful fair-haired youth with a bow hanging over his shoulder standing upon a large rock far above me when I was running, but when I looked again, he was gone.   When I reached the rock, there was no sign of anyone anywhere.  From the vantage point I could have seen anyone nearby.  No one, except a god, could have disappeared so quickly.

I gazed again at the golden-haired youth standing not so distant.  He reminded me of the youth I had seen on that day.  Had Apollo come to the Isthmian games?  It was not common, but not unheard of, for the gods to come to earth.  What would happen if I beat a god?

There is no reason to worry.  Even Achilles could not outrun Apollo.

I took my place on the starting line with the others.  I was youngest and smallest, but I was fast.  I should have made an offering to Apollo before the race, but I had been too excited and my thoughts were too filled with Markos to consider it.  It was too late now.

Apollo, if I win, I will paint you a beautiful drinking cup even a god will be pleased to drink from.

The signal was given and we leapt forward.  The stadion was the shortest of the races and here my speed would come into play.  I poured my being into running.  The wind raced over my nude form as my feet moved faster than perhaps the eye could see.  I watched the others only from the corners of my eyes; not turning my head for fear the wind might slow me down.  I could see only one boy clearly in front of me—the beautiful youth with golden hair.

I forced my muscles to propel me forward; saving nothing.  The finish line raced toward me too quickly.  I gained ground, but feared I would not have time to catch and pass the golden boy.   Perhaps, I was racing against Apollo.

I risked a glance to either side.  Unless I fell, the beautiful youth was my only true competition.  I stared ahead and focused all my being on racing over the hot earth so quickly that my feet barely touched it.

The race ended.  I put my hands behind my head and slowed to regain my breath.  Sweat streamed over my body and stung my eyes.  The dust of the track irritated my nose and I sneezed.  As I feared, the youth with the golden hair had crossed the finish line before me.  I had lost.

I pushed away the shame of failure.  Perhaps I had been naïve to think I would win, but failing to do so left a bitter taste in my mouth.  I wished now I had not boasted that I would win.  Perhaps the gods had punished me for it.

This is not the only race this day.  The diaulos is next.

The diaulos was twice the length of the stadion.  In that race endurance would play a bigger part, but speed was still of paramount importance.  Perhaps, the diaulos was my race.

I refreshed myself with wine well-diluted with spring water provided for the participants and even poured some over myself as I saw some of the other boys doing.  My eyes met that of the blond youth.  We did not smile, but appraised each other.

Are you Apollo?  Reveal yourself to me if it is so.  It is no shame to be beaten by a god.

The next race was soon.  I stretched and walked in preparation.  I retied my hair back so that it would not obscure my vision.  I took deep breaths and forced my loss from my mind.  The past was the past.  All that mattered was the next race.

We lined up again.  Some of the runners had competed in the stadion.  Others did not.  Some competed in only a single event, while others competed in many.  I would run in all the racing events, except one.

The golden-haired youth lined up near me.  Perhaps the longer distance would tire him, but I feared not.  Our eyes met and I could detect the slightest smile in his.  Was he friendly or was he taunting me because he had beaten me in the stadion?  It mattered not because if I could, I would beat him this time.

The race began and we shot forward like an arrow from the bowstring.  I intended to stay near the front, in striking range, but was not concerned with being in front, until the very end of the race.  Maintaining my position was not an easy matter.  These were the best runners in Hellas, within my age group at least.

Some began to fall back a bit when we’d run half the distance of the race, but not by much.  I increased my speed, using the small amount of energy I’d held back until now.  I closed on the three boys in front of me.  The blond-haired youth raced again in the lead.  Some distance behind him ran two other boys, both fit and lean with black hair.

I passed one of the boys in front of me, which left only two.  I ran with all my might, but I could not catch up.  Try as I might, they kept out in front of me.  The blond boy crossed the finish line, then a few moments later the other boy, then me.

I thought I would perform better in this race, but instead I had done worse.  My hopes for a crown of pine were slipping away.

My performance was better in the hippios, a four stadia race.  I placed second once more, still behind the blond youth.  That left only the dolichos, an endurance race of a league, but before that race, Alastor was competing in the pale’.

I quickly and deeply drank, then once more poured water over myself both to cool myself down and rinse away what sweat I could.  Later, I would clean myself properly, but there was no time now if I wanted to watch my brother wrestle.

I slipped on my chiton and ran to the stadium where wrestling took place.  The foot races were held in an elongated narrow oval stadium, but many of the other events, including the contact sports, were held in a roughly circular stadium that had far more tiers of seats.  I was not able to get quite so close as I wished, but close enough I could see the wrestlers clearly.

I was anxious when I caught sight of the wrestlers.  They wore only loincloths and I was amazed at the size and builds of many of the wrestlers.  Unlike the races, there were no divisions of age for the pale’, pygmachia or the pankration.  I was relieved that my brother would not be competing in boxing.  Wrestling was dangerous enough.  The pankration was the most dangerous of all.  Wrestling and boxing had rules, where the pankration had almost none.

A match began between two wrestlers of similar size.  One appeared perhaps in his late teens and the other looked to be in his 20’s.  Both had strong bodies and when their muscles began to bulge, I felt my phallus growing.  I had no control over it.  Luckily, the attention of everyone was focused on the wrestlers.

They moved with greater speed than I had imagined, darting in to attempt a hold here or there.  One managed to grasp the upper leg of the other and unbalanced him, but as they fell the other wrestler twisted around and ended up on top with the first facing the ground.  The sheer power of their bodies amazed me.  The one on top tried to turn his opponent on his back, but it was no easy task because the wrestler on the bottom continually struggled to dislodge the other and to get a hold that would allow him to topple his opponent. Suddenly, the wrestler on top flipped the other over and held his shoulders to the ground.  Seconds later, the match was over.

Alastor wrestled next.  I gulped when I spotted his opponent.  He was so much larger it seemed unfair my brother had to wrestle him, but that is how the pale’ worked.  A pair wrestled.  One went on to wrestle again, the other did not.  At the end, there would be only one victor.

My great fear was that Alastor would get badly hurt.  It could happen.  I wished he would simply walk away, but I knew my brother.  If Herakles was his opponent, he still would not back down.

The match began.  I almost could not bear to watch, but Alastor was quick and nearly managed to topple his opponent early on.  The crowd cheered.  I cheered loudest of all.

That brief moment of glory was all there was to be had.  Alastor’s opponent soon had him in a headlock.  My brother tried to free himself and endeavored to trip his adversary up, but his opponent was so much bigger, the contest wasn’t even fair.  Soon, my brother’s back was pinned to the ground and the match was over.

“Alastor!  Alastor!” I called out, trying to be heard over the cheers of the crowd.

My brother picked out my voice and walked toward me, his chest heaving.  Men patted him on the back, impressed with his performance against an opponent so much larger.

“Didn’t last long, did I?  I couldn’t even win my first match,” Alastor said, but he did not look too displeased.

“Who could win against such a giant?” I asked.

Alastor laughed.

“I was not able to see your last race.  How did you do?”

“Second.  I have one final chance for a prize.”

“You have done exceedingly well.  You have brought honor to our family and to Plataea.  I am very proud of you.”

I grinned.  I liked nothing more than pleasing my brother.  I was going to win that last race.  I’d do it for him.

My brother headed for the gymnasia.  I walked out of the stadium and gazed at the imposing structures and the statues in the sanctuary.  This seemed almost a city in itself.

I joined those taking part in the dolichos well before the race began.  I spotted the blond youth.  Naturally, he would be here.  If not for him, I would have won two events.  Think of it!  Two victories, but it was not to be.

I still had a chance.  I would be happy indeed if I could win this last race, the last for me anyway.  Winning the dolichos would erase my previous losses from my mind.

I disrobed as the time for the race began.  I stank of stale sweat, but soon I would sweat again and more.  The sun was even hotter than earlier, which would make such a long race all the more grueling.

There were fewer runners in this race, which meant less competition, but I thought it likely the competition would be tougher than ever.  These runners were here because they were confident they could go the distance.

I knew I could do this.  I ran as far, and further, at home.  The question was; could I run a league faster than everyone else?  Was that likely with my shorter legs and lesser build?  My lightness would aid me, but my lesser stride would work against me.  There was no way to know the outcome.

Win or lose, I would do my best.  The crowd had not booed my brother for losing.  They cheered him and patted him on the back for taking on a clearly stronger opponent.  I was the least of the contenders here.  I would do no less than my brother.  Besides, this was only running.  I would not get hurt unless I fell or my heart burst from effort.  If the later, I would not live long enough to feel the pain.

Being overly dramatic, aren’t we?

I grinned at my own thoughts.  I was overly dramatic at times, but I liked to think of my life as a great epic, a story like the siege of Troy.

We lined up.  The blond youth and I gazed at each other again.  This time, he smiled and nodded.  I did the same.  He was being friendly.  There was no mistaking it.   My heart raced at the attention from the other boy.

I had no time to think on it more.  The race began and we were off.  The pace was slower than the other races.  We would run around and around the track, a distance far greater than the other races.  The stadion and diaulos were sprints.  The hippios was a mix of speed and endurance.  The dolichos was a race of endurance.  Those who ran too fast would not finish.

Three of the runners did not understand this last point.  They took off, leaving the rest of us, including the blond youth, behind.  I paid no heed.  They would run out of breath and strength well before the end of the race.  If they tried to maintain their pace for too long, their failure was certain.

My strategy for this race was to keep pace with the others, neither leading nor trailing behind.  I ran with the pack, saving my strength, breathing evenly, relaxing my body as much as possible, concentrating only on moving forward.

I let my mind flow to the familiar trails around Plataea, where I ran past olive trees, grasses and wildflowers.  The track I ran on now was flat, so much easier than the ever-changing incline beneath my feet back home.  This was no challenge at all compared to running on the slopes of Mount Cithaeron.

My legs began to tire and my breath to come faster when we’d run half a league and more.  Those who had raced out in front had now fallen well behind the pack.  Here is where the race became more difficult.  This is where thoughts of speed turned to hopes of being able to run the distance.  I knew I could do it, but would I be fast enough?

The crowd cheered us as we ran.  I fancied I heard my name, but how could I among the hundreds of voices and there were hundreds.  The Isthmian games were one of the main religious festivals of Hellas.  Hundreds and hundreds, perhaps even thousands descended upon Corinth and the Isthmian sanctuary for the games every other year.  For many, it was the adventure of a lifetime.

I focused on keeping my breathing even, in through my nose and out through my mouth, although I was breathing hard enough now, I had to breath in through my mouth some as well.  I kept my speed mostly even, increasing it by the smallest amount in an attempt to slowly overtake the runners in front of me.

I passed one and then two laps later passed another.  Both seemed to fall back quickly as I did so, making me wonder if being passed took the wind out of their sails.  We were all closing in on the end of our strength now, at least the strength to maintain this speed.  Even though I had run this distance and greater before, doubts about my ability to finish tried to slip into my mind.  I refused to let them.  I might be defeated by the other runners, but I would not be defeated by my own thoughts!

When I began my measured increase in speed, I was among the pack, but lap by lap I outdistanced them.  Soon, there were only six runners ahead of me, then five, then four.  The end of the race was coming both too slowly and too quickly.  Too slowly for my tormented body and too quickly for me to have enough time to pass on the others.

I added on the tiniest bit more speed, or perhaps I only imagined it.  The increase was so slight it may not have existed at all.  I passed another runner, placing me in third.  There were only two laps remaining now.  It took one of those laps to pass the next runner.  The bronzed youth with flowing black hair did not give up his place easily.  He fought me with speed and endurance, but at last I passed him.

I knew I could not slow even the smallest amount because I could hear that youth panting close behind me.  If I lessened my speed at all he would pass me.  Indeed, he managed to draw even with me a quarter of the way into the last lap, but then dropped back.  His strength was spent.

The blond youth, who might be Apollo come to earth, was the only runner in front of me.  He had beaten me in every footrace.  He had won every footrace, but I was going to do my best to beat him.  This was my last race and my last chance.

I nearly cried out with the effort, but I put everything I had into running faster and faster.  I closed on him until I imagined he could almost feel my breath upon his bare back, but I could not overtake him.  He was always just ahead of me.  The finish line neared.  I tried to run faster, but I had nothing left.  I had to watch as he ran across the line a moment before me.  I had failed.

I slowed to a walk and fought to catch my breath.  I gasped for air.  I was drenched in sweat.  My legs ached.  My lungs burned.  I wanted nothing more than to throw myself on the ground, but I knew better.  I walked slowly instead and allowed my body time to recover.

I turned away from the racecourse and exited the stadium.  No one noticed.  No one paid attention to the losers.  I walked toward the gymnasium complex, shutting out the cheering crowd.  Later, the beautiful youth would be crowned with a wreath.  I would be forgotten.

I fought the tears that welled in my eyes.  It was not manly to cry.  Instead, I focused on my beating heart and my own life’s breath as it slowed.

I entered the gymnasium and made my way to the disrobing room.  There, I took my stirrup jar of olive oil, poured a small amount into my hands and began to rub it over my sweaty, dusty body.  I concentrated on the jar instead of my defeat.  The jar was old, so old it dated to the time when Achilles lived and perhaps even before.  I had found it mostly buried in the bottom of a stream that flowed from a spring in the foothills near Plataea.  How it got there I did not know, but it must have lay undetected all the long years until I glimpsed it as I kneeled for a drink.  It was plain compared to the pottery we created in our family shop, decorated only with horizontal strips.  The style was antique, not used for centuries, but there was beauty in its simplicity.

I reached for my strigil and used the wide blade to scrape the olive oil from my skin, removing with it the sweat and grime.  I did my arms and chest first, then my abdomen, then my legs.  I reached around and tried to reach my back, but could not properly do so.  I was surprised when another took the strigil and began to scrap the oil from my back.  I did not turn immediately because I was so very tired, and frustrated that I could not reach my back, but when I turned my breath caught in my throat and I could not speak.  It was the beautiful blond youth who had won all the footraces.  I gazed into his eyes, which were the color of the sea.

“You raced very well today.  You nearly beat me,” he said, then turned me around to continue working on my back.

“I… I…”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“This is my twelfth summer.”

“It is my fourteenth.  It surprises me that one so young came so close to beating me.  No one has ever come that close before.”

“You run like Achilles.”

The boy laughed and ran the strigil over my buttocks, sending a thrill through my body.  He continued until he had removed the olive oil from every part I could not reach.

“Thank you,” I said, turning and taking my strigil back from him.

The boy reached into his alcove and pulled out his own strigil, which was of a finer craftsmanship than mine.

“May I?” I asked, holding out my hand.

He handed me his strigil.  I watched with too keen interest as he spread olive oil over his smooth bronzed skin, wishing I had the nerve to offer to do it for him, but I had used up my courage asking for his strigil.  His fingers glided over his swelling chest and down over the ridges of his stomach, then over his muscled legs.  He turned and I watched as he poured the oil over his back, allowing it to flow over his shoulders, down his lower back and onto his shapely buttocks.  It was all I could do to keep from reaching out and running my hands over his behind.

When he had finished.  I began to scrape olive oil and fine sand off his well-formed body.  I felt my phallus began to stir as I drew the edge of the dull bronze blade over his pectorals.  His chest was broader and deeper than my own and yielded only slightly to the bronze.  His abdomen was rigid and defined and reminded me of the statue of Apollo in Plataea.

I breathed harder as I worked near his phallus, which was larger than mine, as was to be expected.  When I reached his legs, it was obvious why I had not been able to catch him.  They were longer and better formed.

I cleaned the olive oil from his back and then had the pleasure of running the strigil over his buttocks.  Doing so sent a thrill through me.  I was sorry when I had finished with my task.

“Thank you…”

“Nikias,” I said.

“Nikias.  That means victory.”

“Not today.”

“There will be other races on other days and on one of those you will wear a crown of laurel or perhaps of the olive leaves of Olympia.”

I smiled.  “What is your name?”

“Alkides.”

I would not at all have been surprised if he had answered Apollo.  The gods could take any form and why would Apollo not choose the form of the youth in front of me?

“That is another name for Herakles,” I said.

“Wishful thinking on the part of my father.”

“You could be a young Herakles,” I said with likely too obvious admiration.

“You flatter me.”

We moved onto the baths together.  There were not many present because even most of those competing today were watching the other events.  Two older boys, who had competed earlier were soaking in the water under the large dome.  They did not fail to notice me walking by the side of the taller, older, and extremely handsome boy.

We slipped into the bath and enjoyed the warmth of the water.  The olive oil had mostly cleaned our bodies and the water would finish the task.  I loved soaking in the baths after I exercised in the gymnasium back home and after my race today found it equally relaxing.

“What city do you represent?” I asked as we floated in the water.

“Thebes.”

No.  Why did it have to be Thebes?  We were not at war, but Thebes and Plataea had been on opposing sides far too often.

“You have traveled as far as I have them.  I am from Plataea.”

I waited for a reaction, for him to draw away or sneer, but no such action was forthcoming.

“This is only my second journey.  My first was to Nemea for the Nemean Games.”

“You competed?”

“Yes, I won the stadion for my age group, but was second in the diaulos, third in the hippios and fourth in the dolichos.  I did not do well with the longer distances, but I have practiced much since those games.  I will not run in the hoplitodromos until I am older.”

“I will not run in it until I am much older,” I said with a smile.  “My brother said I must be accustomed to armor before I can attempt to run in it.  He would not allow me even if I was foolish enough to wish it.”

“Your brother?  Not your father?”

“My father was killed rescuing others from a fire.  He saved an entire family, but…”  I had to stop.  I could feel a sob trying to come and I would not allow it.

“That is a death as honorable as one in battle.  I am sure you are proud of him, and that you miss him terribly.  Such a man, must be one who is missed.”

“Thank you, and you are right about my father.  I only knew him a few years, but he was respected and well-liked by all.”

Alkides nodded.

“I am here with my father.  He promised that if I dedicated myself to training, he would allow me to compete in the games.”

“You must certainly have trained hard to have won every race in which you completed.”

“Very hard and yet a younger boy nearly beat me.”

“Now, you flattered me.”

“I speak only the truth.”

“I hope my brother will not be disappointed.  We closed our shop and he traded a magnificent krater he made for our passage to and from the games.”

“It must have been magnificent indeed if it was accepted in trade for such a passage.  Father has a cup made in Thebes.  It is beautiful.  Sometimes, I sit and gaze at the figures.  Do you sell painted wares?”

I grinned because Alkides gave no indication he looked down upon me because I came from a family of artisans.

“Yes.  My brother and I both create pots and decorate them.  He has allowed me to do more and more and claims that I have nearly surpassed him.”

“You have that talent?”

“Yes.  Most don’t value it that highly.  It is not like being a sculptor.”

“My father’s cup is the equal of a statue in my eyes.”

“Well, I do not know how mine compares, but our wares sell well and merchants even purchase them to take to far off lands where they sell for even greater prices.”

“I wish my father would purchase a cup for me from your shop, but he will not go to Plataea.”

“I understand.”

“I understand as well, but I do not like it.  I do not see why the cities of Hellas must always be hostile.  If they are not involved in a war, they have recently finished one or are about to start another.”

“I do not understand war, but I train to fight because someday I will need to do so.”

“Me as well.  May we never face each other in battle.”

“My wish is that your wish is granted,” I said.

“Being a potter, do you own your own cup?”

“Yes, I have one that did not fire correctly.  It is whole, but not fit to sell.  Clay cannot be reused once fired, so we use what does not turn out correctly.  Upon my cup Apollo slays the python on one side and the Pythia sits upon her tripod in the temple on the other.”

“I would love such a cup.”

“The side with the Pythia was darkened when fired, so only the tripod can be made out, but Apollo is whole.”

“Do you favor Apollo then?”

I nodded.  “Yes.  I often depict him.  I also fashion small figures of him out of clay.”

“So, you are a sculptor too?”

“Only on a very small scale.”

“What you can create small you can create large.  Someday, I will tell others that I met the famous artist Nikias when he was a boy.”

“I will tell of meeting Alkides, who is known throughout the world for his numerous victories in games.  He who has worn every crown upon his head.”

Alkides smiled at me.

“I must go.  My father is waiting.”

I gazed upon Alkides’s beauty as he departed and felt my phallus grow stiff under the water from the sight of his firm, rounded buttocks.  I yearned to be alone with him, but I would have to content myself with the memory of his magnificence.

When I was able to get myself under control, I left the water, dried off and returned to the anteroom.  There, took my loincloth and wrapped it around my hips.  This was the only clothing I ever wore at home except during the winter months and then only if it became truly cold.  On our travels, I also wore a chiton.

I felt clean as I exited the gymnasia.  My legs were tired, but the rest of me had recovered.  The disappointment of losing was not as sharp now.  Perhaps, one god or another had brought me down for my hubris.  Perhaps my confidence and pride had been excessive.  Here, I did not complete with random boys, but with the best from all over our world.  There were even competitors from Crete, Cyprus and coastal cities of Asia.  I had raced against the best from these faraway lands and managed to place third and even second.  I would receive no crown for that, but I knew I should be pleased to have done so well, and now, I was.

I smiled as I returned to the stadium where I had run my races.  I thought it might already be over, but the hoplitodromos was in progress.  I found an open space in the stands and sat upon the weathered wood.  The heat was fierce, but I was no doubt cooler than most because I had only now come from the baths.  I began to sweat, but not like I had when racing.

My black curly hair helped protect me from the rays of Helios passing overhead.  It even shaded my eyes so I could watch the runners.  These athletes were of a different sort from most.  They were more heavily muscled and I thought it likely they were warriors who were accustomed to armor.  They needed to be strong to run with the weight of a bronze helmet and shield.  I had heard that in the past they also wore greaves.  It must have been terribly difficult to run in them.  Perhaps that is why it was no longer done.

I watched the flexing muscles of the athletes as they ran.  Their calves and upper legs looked hard as carved stone and yet supple.  Their arms surged with muscle, too, especially the left, where they carried a shield.  I had tried to lift my father’s once, but it was far too heavy for me.  I could not imagine running with it.  I also thought the weight must throw the runners off balance.

The helmet would cause no such imbalance, but the weight pressing down with each stride could not be pleasant.  It would also be difficult to see and no doubt the heat was intense in the broiling sun.  I thought it took great bravery merely to encase one’s head in bronze on a day like this one.

The bodies of the athletes gleamed as they raced forward.  The sight of them made me breath harder.  I did not have this reaction to other males when I was younger, but now I seemed unable to gaze at one without panting.

I wondered if my slim body would ever look like the runners on the field and if I could ever be so strong.  My legs had considerable strength from endless running and I was not weak, but I did not have the bulging muscles of these athletes.

I smiled to myself as I realized I was comparing myself not only to full-grown men, but to the best of them.  I could not hope to match up to warriors such as these.  Luckily, no one expected me to do so.

I scanned the crowd for my brother and for Alkides, but it was extremely unlikely I would spot either.  They might not even be in the stadium.  There was a lot going on besides the competitions.  The sporting events would continue for days as would the artistic contests.  I hoped to take in as much as possible while we were here.

I also hoped to run upon Alkides.  A part of my mind still suspected he was Apollo in human form.  I knew it unlikely, but the gods did come to earth from time to time.  Then again, Alkides did not act like a god, even though he looked like one to me, not that I knew how a god might act.  Regardless, I hoped to see him again.

I remained until the competition was finished, then departed to meet my brother.  He had instructed me to meet him near the fountain that was a prominent part of the sanctuary.  At the top was the god Poseidon with water rushing from his trident to flow down over the coral beneath his feet and the dolphins that actually seemed to rise up out of the pool of water below.  When I neared, the sound of the falling water sounded like rain and a calming and soothing effect settled upon me.

Alastor was nowhere in sight, so I sat on the edge of fountain as many others were doing and waited.  Masses of people who had come for the games passed by my resting place, causing the shadow of Poseidon’s trident on the pavement to waver and constantly change shape.  Some were finely dressed, but with most it was impossible to tell if they were free or slave.  I liked that.  It gave those who were slaves more freedom and dignity.  They could not help it if ill fortune had enslaved them.

Draco smiled at me as he approached.  Alastor and I were his family now.  That is how we treated him, as family and not as a slave, but I wondered about his previous family and what had happened to them.  Was his mother still alive?  Did he have any idea where she might be?  Did he have brothers or sisters out there somewhere?  I hated to think that I might someday not know if Alastor was dead or alive, but I was getting old enough I would not be enslaved if some other city conquered Plataea.  I would be slain along with the men.  Only women and children were usually enslaved.

“You did so very well, Nikias!” Draco said.

“I thought I had failed, but I have realized since that I did not.”

“Failed?  You were the youngest and you nearly won all the races!”

“Nearly won is another way of saying lost,” I teased.

“A third and two seconds at the Isthmian games is not losing.  True, you will not be crowned, but you should be pleased with your achievement.  Alastor has already been telling others how well his little brother did in the races.”

“You fib,” I said with a grin.

“I swear it.  There he is.  Alastor have you not been bragging about the prowess of the little one here?”

“Little one!” I said, but Draco grinned at me.  He liked to tease me.

“Yes, but do not let that go to your head.  I am very proud of you, Nikias.”

I beamed.  Making my brother proud was my crown.

“You would have won at least two of your races if it had not been for that boy with golden hair.  He ran like Achilles,” Alastor said.

“I met him in the gymnasia.  His name is Alkides.  He is from Thebes.”

“Ah,” my brother said.

“He was very kind.”

“Do not get too friendly with him, Nikias.  You may someday look over a shield at him,” Alastor said.

“I doubt I will see him again.”  I doubted it as much as I desired it.

“You will see him again this evening.”

“I will?”

“At the presentation of the prizes.”

“Oh.  I suppose I can stand watching the winners crowned with pine.”

“You will receive a prize as well, Nikias.”

“I will?  I didn’t win.”

“There are prizes given for second and third.  You will not be crowned, but you will be acknowledged.”

“And we will be there to cheer for you the loudest,” Draco said.

Chapter Three

“I hope we are not mobbed in the sanctuary,” Markos said.

“Why should we be?”

“After competing yesterday, you no doubt have countless admirers.”

I playfully shoved Markos.

“It is far more likely that no one will recognize me as someone who competed.”

“Perhaps if you dressed as you did for the race.”

“I was naked, Markos.”

“Yes.  It is a good look for you.”

Markos locked his eyes on mine and I once more began to breathe harder.  I did that often around him.

My brother had given me permission to spend the day with Markos watching artistic competitions in the sanctuary.  Alastor and Draco were in the sanctuary as well, but I was allowed to go off and explore, as long as Markos was with me.

“I suppose my brother told you to watch over me,” I said.

“He said something to that effect.”

“He treats me like a weak child.”

“You are by no means weak, but you are twelve and wouldn’t stand much of a chance against an adult assailant.”

“What are the chances of being attacked here, in the sanctuary, during the Isthmian games no less?  Surely, Poseidon would punish such an act severely.”

“Yes, but you still might suffer or even die and I think your brother is worried about another sort of danger,” Markos said.

“Another sort?”

“There are those quite willing to take advantage of a pretty boy.  The gods might not view that as an attack, since they do it themselves at times.”

“Advantage?  As in cheated?  I have very few coins and I am not stupid.  I am not a shepherd who spends his life in the hills.  Plataea is smaller than Corinth by far, but it is a city and I am not stupid,” I said, growing cross.

“No, you are not stupid, Nikias, but you are, perhaps, naïve.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your first kiss was from me and not long ago.”

“What of it?”

“You did not understand why your phallus grew stiff.”

I blushed and looked around, but no one was very near and everyone was going about their own business.

“I did not.  Again, what of it?”

“That fact that you do not know the answer means you are naïve.  No, do not grow angry with me.  I mean no insult, but there are many things you do not know.”

“I suppose you do, elderly wise one?”

“Yes.”

“Teach me then.”

Markos gazed at me with such a strange mix of expressions playing out on his features that I could not tell what he was feeling.

“What?”

“You tempt me.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes and no.  You make a part of me want to take advantage of you.”

“In ways I do not understand?”

“Yes.”

“You would not do that,” I said.

“No, I would not and will not.  Getting what I want is not so important as the way I get it.”

“I do not understand that.  Perhaps I am dull.”

“No, you are merely young.”

“I am not that much younger than you.”

“True, but there is still a great difference between my age and yours.  I know much that you do not yet.”

“What about the part of you that does not want to take advantage of me?”

“That is the larger part of me, I am proud to say.  I have been charged with protecting you and I will not break my promise.  Also, you are our guest and to allow any harm to come to you would be a sacrilege.  Further, I like you very much, more than you know, Nikias, and I would never harm you for that reason alone.  For all these reasons, I fight my baser instincts.”

“You are talking about sex, aren’t you?”

Markos laughed, but not unkindly.

“Yes.”

“Oh, so you want to do things with me, things that a suitor might do?”

“Very much.”

“What if I am willing?”

“How can you be willing to do what you do not understand?”

“I feel that I am.”

“Oh, be glad you are with me, Nikias, or you would soon be violated.”

I shrugged.  “I would like you to kiss me again and do more, although I do not know exactly what.”

“Perhaps I will kiss you and do a little more, but only a little.”

For some reason, his words made me breathe hard again.

I liked the attention of this older boy.  He was tall, strong and handsome.  He also seemed to genuinely like me.  He certainly did not treat me like a brat he was forced to accompany.  Markos made me feel a bit stupid at times, but perhaps that was because in some things I was stupid.  My brother said that one cannot know everything.

We walked on to the theatre, which was our destination, to catch the second play of the day.  The first had started shortly after dawn, which was too early for us.

My eyes widened as we entered.  I knew this theatre would be larger than the one in Plataea, but I was not prepared for its vast size.  The tiers of seats extended down, down and still further down to the performance area.  Most were taken, but there were plenty left and we stepped down many tiers before taking a seat on stone warmed by the sun.

“This should be good.  It is a play called Hilarion and the Brothel.  It is a comedy by Crates of Rhodes.  He is said to be very popular in Rhodes and has won many prizes for his work.”

We had to wait only a short time before the performance began.  When it did, the countless small conversations in the theatre all stopped at once and all eyes turned downward.

The story began with Hilarion, a handsome but arrogant youth, convincing his younger brother to eat a great quantity of green apples.  This had the predictable result of giving him the squirts.  The audience howled with laughter as the boy ran off the stage holding both hands to his bottom to try to hold off the inevitable long enough not to soil himself.

His friend, Georgios, arrives and off they go to the agora, where a suitor attempts to court Hilarion.  The boy disdainfully dismisses him, but not after loudly and publicly humiliating him.

Next, Hilarion ridicules a younger boy to tears, bullies another, and beats yet another.  By this time, I, and the rest of the audience despised Hilarion and wished for the gods to punish him.  That wish was soon granted.

Hilarion is in the process of badgering and berating an old beggar when a man grabbed him by the ear and roared at him.

“Thought you could get away, did you, Athan?  You lazy whore!  Back to the house with you!”

“Off me, scum!” Hilarion yells as he struggles, but for that he receives the back of the man’s hand hard across the face.

I did not like to see someone so ill-treated, if anyone deserved it, Hilarion did.  He was dragged by the ear to a brothel where he was shoved into a room.  Soon, a man entered.  The audience cannot see behind the door, but the sounds of Hilarion being sexually used filled the theatre.

In the next act, Hilarion skulks along the street, casting glances about as if fear of discovery.  Georgios approaches him, but Hilarion ignores him and continues past.  Georgios grabs his arm and forces him to turn.

“Hilarion, why do you ignore me?  Everyone is looking for you.  Your family is worried.”

“Hands off me!  I do not know you and do not want to know you!”

“Hilarion, what game is this?  You know me well and you know it.”

“Who is Hilarion?”

“Okay, I shall play your game, but only because I want the reward for your return.”

“You will get no reward.  I am not Hilarion.  I am Athan.  Now leave me!”

Realization dawned on me.  This was not Hilarion, but Athan, a boy who escaped from a brothel.

“Oh no, you are coming with me if I had to drag you.  I will not miss out on the fifty-drachma reward!”

“Fifty?  That is a large sum.”

“Yes, but your family is wealthy and can well afford it.  They fear you have been murdered or worse.”

“Wealthy, you say?”

“Yes, as you know well.  Why do you play this game with me, or have you been ill or injured?  Are you okay, Hilarion?”

Athan stands up straighter.

“I am sorry my friend.  It is a foolish game and I will play it no longer.  Do not worry.  I am well.  I am happy to see you and will be happier still to go with you so that you may earn your reward.”

Georgios puts his arm around Athan’s shoulder and leads him away.

“Where have you been all this time?” he asked, as they walked.

“I would rather not say.  I had a bit of trouble.”

“What did you do, Hilarion?  I warned you that you go too far.  What is it?  Rape?  Murder?  You know I will keep your secret.”

“No, I...  I was attacked and hit my head.  I wandered witless for a long time.  I was not actually playing a game when you found me, not at first.  My wits have been scrambled.  Do not be surprised if I seem confused.  Even now, there is much I cannot remember.”

“You were attacked?  That is a turnaround for sure.”

“Yes, well, I was.”

“I believe you.”

“Good, you must help me.  I do not wish my family to worry.  Have I siblings?”

“Have you… you did get a knock on the head!  Very well, I shall tell you…”

Next, we are back with Hilarion in the brothel, where a customer checks his wares.  Hilarion slaps his hands away and receives a sharp slap from the brothel owner for it.

“This one fancies himself a noble.  He’s not right in the head, but his other head is very desirable, no?  And look at this backside?” he said, turning Hilarion around and exposing his buttocks.  “There’s good plowing there.”

“Yes, I’ll have him then,” the man said and gave the brothel owner a few coins.

“Be as rough with him as you need to make him perform, but do not damage him or you will pay the price.”

“Understood.”

Hilarion disappears behind the door and once more we hear the unmistakable sounds of him being violated.

We are quickly back with Athan, where he reclines on a couch, eating grapes while conversing with his family.  Athan is witty, funny and kind.  Next, we see him with his younger brother and Georgios.  He treats them both to food from a vendor.

“Why are you being kind to me?” asked Hilarion’s little brother.

“Why should I not be?  You’re my brother, are you not?”

“You have never been kind before.  You have always been cruel and you hurt me when we are alone.”

Athan pauses, his shoulders slump, but then he straightens them and turns to the younger boy.

“I am so very sorry for all that.  It will not happen again.  I promise you.  From now on, I will be kind.  I know what it is like to be abused.”

“You have been pampered your entire life, unless you mean…” Georgios said.

“Yes, I mean when I was attacked, of course, nothing more than that… but… it was, brutal.”

“I am sorry you were attacked, but I am glad of the change.  I did not like you before your misfortune, but I like you very much now,” Hilarion’s brother said.

“I promise to be a different person from who I was then.”

Markos and I laughed with the crowd.  We turned to each other and smiled.  He interlaced his fingers with mine and we returned our attention to the actors.

We watched as Athan charms Hilarion’s family by picking his mother flowers, eagerly helping his father with various tasks, doting on his little brother and treating the family slaves with great kindness.

In the next act, the real Hilarion stands in a line with the other brothel slaves as a customer examines them.  When another boy is chosen, Hilarion steps out of the line and accosts the customer.

“How can you choose him over me?  Do you not see my face, form or hair?  I have far more than him here,” he said, grabbing his crotch.  “I also have the firmest ass you will ever see.  You are a fool not to pick me.”

Hilarion is about to get backhanded by his keeper when the customer surveys him.

“Yes, I’ll have this one, too.”

Markos and I laughed as Hilarion realizes what he’d just done to himself, and laughed more at the moans, groans, whimpers and high-pitched shrieks he uttered behind the closed door.  Even funnier was when he came out hobbling and rubbing his ass while the other boy is clearly pleased with himself.

“And so everyone gets what’s coming to them in the end.”

That made us all laugh yet more.

All too soon, the inevitable happened.  Hilarion escapes back to his home, arriving only steps in front of the brothel owner.  He bursts in upon his family eating and spotted Athan.

“He is an imposter!  I am Hilarion!”

The apple he is eating falls from the fingers of Athan as he recognizes his twin in appearance.

“This boy is my property!  I will teach you to run away!” the brothel owner said and smacks Hilarion in the side of the head.

“I am your son.  He is not!” Hilarion shouts as the brothel owner took him by the arm.

“I think he is the imposter,” Hilarion’s brother said, pointing at him.

“Do you not know me, little brother?”

“I know that my brother has grown much kinder in recent weeks and that he is preferable even if he is not who he says.  My brother was wicked and cruel, now he is helpful and kind.  If your words were not lies, I would still choose him,” Hilarion’s brother says, looking at Athan.

“Father…”

“Take him away.  He is not my son.  This is my son,” Hilarion’s father says, pointing at Athan.

Hilarion is dragged from his home and back to the brothel.  Athan continues his meal with his new family.

Markos and I clapped loudly with the others, then turned and departed from the theatre.  Another play would soon commence, but we wished to see other sights.

We walked first to a fountain fed by a spring for a drink.  We not only drank, but splashed our faces with the cold water that came from deep in the earth.

“Everyone gets what’s coming to them in the end,” I said and laughed.

“Do you get the meaning of that, I mean, the other meaning?”

“Yes.  I am not as naïve as you think.  The other meaning is connected to Hilarion rubbing his butt and walking funny after his customer is done with him.”

“I thought you might understand.  It’s not funny if you don’t.”

“I wonder how he would be able to walk.  That must hurt awfully bad.”

“I would not know,” Markos said.

“No?  I thought you might be an expert on the matter,” I said with a grin.

“Take care or I might decide to instruct you on the matter.  I am no expert, but I know what to do.”

I gazed at Markos and began to breathe harder again.  My phallus came to life.  A part of me wished he would do just that, but most of me had more sense.

“Don’t worry.  I will not do that to you.  While I would enjoy it.  You would most likely not.”

“It does seem rather one sided,” I said.

Markos shrugged.

We returned to the agora, which was the center of life in every city.  It was not only a marketplace, but a gathering place.  The same was true here in the sanctuary.  There were many performers hoping for obols—singers, dancers, and best practitioners of magic.  We stopped and watched one of these as he poured water from a pitcher into a cloth bag, then crushed the bag.  We stepped back with the others to avoid getting wet, but there was no water!

“Do you think maybe he is a god or a spirit?” I asked as we walked on.  “Who else could do such a thing?”

“I think there is a trick to it.  I have no idea what it is, but I think he is a man who knows how to make something look like what it is not.”

“Maybe so, but gods do come to earth.  I thought perhaps the blond boy who beat me in the races might be Apollo.”

“So, you think only a god can best you, Hilarion?”

“Very funny.  That is not what I meant and you know it!  He seems too beautiful and perfect to be less than a god, but I met him.  His name is Alkides.  I think he is a boy, but I am not entirely certain.”

“You like him very much, don’t you?”

I sighed.  “He is beautiful, Markos.  You saw him.”

“Yes.  I agree.  He was beautiful, at least from a distance.”

“He is more so up close.  I wish he was from Plataea, but he is from Thebes.”

“You had best forget him then.  It can come to no good.  Your city is an ally of Athens and Thebes of Sparta.”

“I know, but Corinth is an ally of Sparta as well and we are friends.   We are, correct?”

“We are friends, but that is because your father and mine were guest friends.  If we faced each other on the battlefield, we could not fight.  If you face Alkides in battle, you will have to try to kill him.”

“My brother said as much.  I have no desire to kill him.”

“That is the danger.  You will hesitate and he will kill you.”

“I cannot imagine him doing that.”

“Imagine it, but don’t worry about it.  You will not face battle for years yet and the likelihood of facing Alkides is not great.”

“True, which means…”

“Which means getting to know someone you may have to kill is still a very bad idea.”

“He would not have me anyway.”

Markos took my chin and made me look up at him.

“You will not lack for suitors, beautiful Nikias.  Do not think poorly of yourself.”

I so wanted Markos to kiss me just then.

“Yes, but I also should not think too highly of myself or you will call me Hilarion.”

Markos laughed.  “You could never be like him.  Come let’s walk outside the sanctuary.”

We walked past throngs of visitors and one structure after another until both became fewer and the stone pavement turned into a dirt track.  We followed this and then Markos led me off to the side toward an olive grove, where grew the most enormous olive tree I had ever seen.

“How old this must be and yet it still lives!” I said, gazing at the gnarled and impossibly thick trunk and the mass of limbs and leaves.

“It is said this tree was already unthinkably old when Achilles fought at Troy.  It is thought to be older than Corinth itself.  It was here when the age of heroes began.”

Markos looked down at me, took my chin in his hand, and then leaned down and kissed me.  I felt his smooth lips upon my own once more and soon his tongue slipped into my mouth.  My breath grew harder and so did my phallus.

I gasped slightly as Markos worked his hand up under my chiton and began to fondle my phallus.  I boldly reached for his own and my eyes widened when I felt its size.  It was so much larger than my own and he but two years older.

Markos ran his fingers along my length, causing me to moan into his mouth.  I mimicked his movements.  Our breaths grew harder still, our hearts pounded, and we kissed with ever greater need.

Without warning, something like lightning ripped through my body.  My phallus became a wild thing, flexing, throbbing and shooting.  My eyes rolled back into my head and I whimpered and moaned.  Barely a moment later, I felt Markos’s phallus throb and jerk in my hand and he groaned into my mouth.

I turned away from Markos when he pulled his lips from mine.  I trembled and felt a sudden sense of shame.

“Nikias.  Nikias, turn and look at me.”

I did as I was told.

“Are you well?”

“I… I don’t know what happened.  I’ve never…  What was that?”

“What do you mean?”

“When my phallus went wild and my body spasmed, I felt as if I relieved myself, but…”

“Ah, that has never happened before?  Nothing has come out of your phallus when it’s hard and excited?”

“No.”

“You’re okay, Nikias.  That is what is supposed to happen.”

Markos pulled out his phallus, quickly got himself excited and ran his hand up and down.

Watch.  I will show you.  It will happen soon.”

Markos stroked faster.  He moaned and then white cream shot from the end of his phallus as he groaned.  When he finished, he dropped his chiton and smiled at me.

“That is what you did and that is what is supposed to happen.  It means you are becoming a man.”

“So, it’s a good thing?  I am not ill?”

“It’s a good thing and you are most certainly not ill.”

“I guess you think me dim witted.”

“No.  I didn’t understand the first time it happened to me and it worried me until I heard older boys talking about it.  I will tell you something else, I couldn’t do it until I was fourteen.  The first time was mere months ago.  You are ahead of me Nikias.”

I laughed.  Markos had a way of making me laugh, and smile.

“Will my phallus grow as large as yours?”

“Yes, and larger still.  Mine will grow for a few years yet and so will yours.”

“Good, I want mine to be bigger than it is now.”

“This is something just between us.  You understand that, right?” Markos asked.

“I will tell no one.  I only wish we had time to do it again and again.”

“Easy there, eager one.  You can only do it so often before you run dry.”

Markos laughed at the horrified expression on my features.  I had just discovered something wonderful only to learn that I could only experience it a few times.

“I mean… before you can shoot again.  I’m sure you could do it again now, but the third time would be more difficult and the fourth harder still.  After too many times, you couldn’t do it again until you’ve had a rest.”

“Oh!”

“Take heart, Nikias.  You will be able to do it the rest of your life,” Markos said.

“Thank you for not treating me as if I am stupid.”

“You are not stupid.  No one is ignorant for not knowing what they have not yet had the chance to experience.”

We lay under the olive tree, enjoying the dappled shade as we looked up through the branches.  I moved close beside Markos and he put his arm around me.

“I wish you lived here, Nikias.  I wish you lived here and I was old enough to be your suitor.”

“If you were, I would accept you in a moment.”

“There is far more to it than what we just did.”

“I know.  My brother has explained it.  I’m sure you could teach me much.”

“Yes, but not nearly enough because there is far too much I have not yet learned.”

“We could be friends then, and more than friends.”

“Yes, but you do not live here and will soon go away.  I may never see you again.”

“You might.  We are guest friends now.  I know I have stayed under your father’s roof, not yours, but it is the same.  If you come to Plataea, my brother will welcome you.  Someday, when I have my own home, I will be happy to welcome you and have you stay as long as you like.”

“Perhaps that will happen, or perhaps you will return here.  The next games are only the year after next.”

“True, although I do not know if I will be able to come.”

“Let’s not worry about the future.  Let’s enjoy now.”

“Now is very good,” I said.

“There can be nothing better.”

Chapter Four

My chiton was freshly washed and looked almost as if it blazed in the light.  The slaves had scrubbed me clean and washed my hair.  I shuddered at the memory of being treated as if I was a small child, but my brother insisted my appearance be the best possible because I was representing not only our family, but Plataea.

It seemed a bit too much fuss considering I had not won, but there was no arguing with Alastor.

“Why am I nervous now when I was not when I competed?” I asked.

“Maybe because now the eye of everyone in the stadium will be on you,” Draco said.

“You are not being helpful, Draco,” Alastor admonished.  “When your turns come, everyone will be looking at the three of you who are being honored.  You will not be alone and the greatest attention will be paid to the victor.”

Alkides.  Apollo come to earth.  The most beautiful, not to mention fastest, boy in the world.

Markos stepped behind me and massaged my shoulders.

“You are too tense, Nikias.  Relax.  This is the fun part,” he said.

“I think running is the fun part.  I love to run.”

“I would too if I ran faster than the wind.”

“No one runs that fast and if I had, I would have won.”

“You know what I mean.  I would smack you in the head right now, but your brother would be angry if I messed up your hair.

“You can smack him after the prizes have been awarded,” Alastor said with a smirk.

Soon, I watched as victors were crowned and those who placed second and third were given prizes.  The prizes were not inconsiderable and someone who did not understand the honor of a crown and all that went with it might think it better to place second or third.  Earning a crown at any of the four main games was the closest thing there was to being a god on earth.  Long after the crowns turned brown and fell to pieces, the winner would be remembered and honored.  Many cities gave the winner of a crown tangible rewards when he returned, such as meals for life.  Imagine it!  The crown could not be worth more if it was gold.

I gulped when the prizes for the youngest competitors of the races were declared, and I froze when my name and city was announced.  Markos shoved me forward and I was able to make my feet keep moving.  I took my place beside the boy who came in third as the crowd cheered for Alkides.  The third-place winner was presented with an amphora of the finest oil olive, which was no small prize.  I was taken aback when I was awarded a small bronze cauldron, which was an object of much greater value.

The other boy and I looked up at Alkides as he received his prize, a crown of pine cut from a sacred glade with red ribbons steaming down the sides.  Everyone cheered as it was placed on his head.  At that moment, Alkides truly looked like a god.

I was called to stand with the winners three more times, for the diaulos, hippios and dolichos.  When I was done, I had added a lekythos filled with fine olive oil, a bronze tripod and a truly fine bronze dagger.  I felt exceeding rich, but I would have traded it all for a single crown.

Alkides was crowned four times.  To be crowned once was an incredible honor.  It was something that boys and young men dreamed about.  Four victories was extraordinary and the crowd showed it when it cheered for Alkides.

Our eyes met more than once during the presentations.  Merely looking at Alkides made my heart race.  When he looked at me and smiled, I felt as if I might melt like wax in the sun.

I needed help to carry away my prizes.  The crowd parted for us as we walked through the sanctuary.  People gazed at me if I was famous.  I felt as if I was just then and I must admit I liked the attention.  I did not mind that we had to walk slowly.  I wanted this time to last as long as possible.

Thales surprised me with a feast in my honor upon our arrival at his home.  Even before we entered the door, I could smell the roast meats and breads.  When I spotted the table laid out with a banquet I almost could not believe my eyes.  I was even more surprised when Thales insisted I sit at the head of the table.

Everyone drank to me, which both pleased and embarrassed me.  Markos grinned at me mischievously, finding humor in my discomfort.

We ate much and drank much.  In fact, I drank a bit too much and began to feel silly.  I had the good sense to stop drinking then, but even so Alastor guided me to my room when it was time for bed.

My brother even placed me in the bed and pulled the soft blanket up over me as he did when I was younger.  He had been a father to me, since the death of our father.

“Go to sleep, little victor, tomorrow we begin our journey home.”

I barely heeded his words as I drifted off and dreamed of the games.

***

The light seemed too bright when I awakened the next morning.  I felt sleepy even when I climbed out of bed, but I was soon fully awake.  We were leaving today and, while I wanted to get back home, I did not want to leave Corinth.

Thales served us a fine breakfast of porridge, ham and honey cakes, all prepared by his wife and the household slaves.

“I think what I will miss most when we leave is Markos and the food.  Markos is the most excellent of companions and the food at your table is the best I have tasted.”

“You honor us with your presence,” Thales said.

“The sooner you return to us, the better we shall be pleased,” his wife added.

Markos merely grinned at me mischievously.

After breakfast, I consulted my brother on an idea that had entered my head.  He not only approved, but told me he was proud of me.  I told Draco not to pack the lekythos of oil.  He was much relieved because he feared for its safety and did not want to be blamed for breaking it.

Markos visited me in my room before we departed.  He closed the door and gave me another of his mischievous smiles.

“I shall miss you, beautiful Nikias.”

“I will miss you, handsome Markos,” I said, with my own mischievous grin.

Markos leaned down and kissed me deeply.  We kissed until there was a knock at the door.  Markos opened it.

“It’s time to go.”

I nodded, then turned to Markos.  I hugged him tightly and felt his strong arms around me once more.  We nodded to each other and then I picked up the lekythos and left the bedroom for the last time.

“May Poseidon grant you safe travels and see you safely to your door,” Thales said.

“May he bless you and your kind family,” Alastor said, then turned to me.

I stepped forward and held out the lekythos to Thale’s wife.

“I wish to give this to you for the most excellent food you prepared for us.”

“I cannot accept.  We are very pleased, indeed honored to have such visitors.”

“It will make me happy to give it to you and it will relieve poor Draco.  He will worry over it all the way to Plataea.  Please accept,” I said.

Thales nodded and his wife accepted my gift.  What’s more, she mussed my hair and kissed my cheek, nearly making me cry.  I did not remember my own mother.

Thales gripped my shoulder.

“I have no doubt you will grow into a man as great and honorable as your father.”

I nodded my thanks.

Markos and I exchanged a last look at each other and then Alastor, Draco and I departed.  We made our way through the great city of Corinth, taking in once more the grand sights.  I hoped that the peace continued.  I did not like to think that Plataea might fight against this city where I had friends.

“I would say we, or at least you, were rather successful at the games.  Three seconds, you amaze me, little brother,” Alastor said.

“What would you have been if I’d won?”

“Astounded!”

“I naively thought I might.”

“That is not so naïve, as your second places prove.  Plus, these were your first games.  Even though I told you about the stiff competition, there is no way you could anticipate it.  You must experience it.”

“First games?  Does that mean I might get to complete in another?”

“I would not be surprised if Plataea asks you to compete in the Pythian games next year.  Your victories here bring much honor not only to you but to Plataea.”

“Delphi!  I would truly love to see Delphi.  Is it true it is the center of the world?”

“Yes.  Zeus let fly two eagles from the ends of the earth and that is where they met.”

“I won’t get my hopes up, but I would dearly love to go, and I will train as if I am going.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

***

I didn’t expect much notice upon our arrival at Plataea.  I was merely glad to get home.  While I enjoyed the voyage back and we once again briefly visited Athens, I was content to return to my familiar haunts.  I knew everything here and while I did not know everyone, I knew a great many.

Draco hurried ahead to air out our living quarters, at least that’s what he said.  I soon learned his true purpose, and people began to greet Alastor and me and clap us on the back.

“There is the Plataean who won four prizes at the Isthmian games!” called out my best friend Hermokrates.

I had looked forward to telling him, but Draco’s loose lips had already begun to spread the news.

“Yes, but I did not win a crown.  I placed third once and second thrice,” I said.

“It is amazing to place at all!”

Others were drawn by my friend’s announcement and they agreed with him.  I began to receive the congratulations from both those I knew and those I did not.

Hyperion, another friend, raced toward us and joined the throng.

“Is it true?  Did you really win a prize at the games?” he asked.

“Four prizes! Hermokrates corrected.

“All hail the conquering victor!”

“I did not win, I merely placed!” I said.

“Don’t ruin the moment with your modesty!” Hyperion said, making the others laugh.

The crowd around us had grown considerable.  Among them were many of my friends.  They insisted on lifting me onto Hermokrates’ shoulders.  He could bear me with ease.  He was a year older and well-muscled.

More and more people joined us as I was carried through the city toward our shop and home.  My friends cheered me and carried on as if I was a conquering general.  I was a bit embarrassed, but mostly I was pleased.  If I received this kind of greeting in my home city, I wondered how Alkides would be received in Thebes.  He was a true victor, four times!

I enjoyed my transient fame.  Hermokrates carried me right to our door and then gently lowered me to the ground.  He grasped my shoulder and grinned at me.

“Tomorrow, we shall display the prizes Nikias won in the shop for all who wish to see.  Thank you for your welcome, my friends.  I am glad you are as proud of Nikias as I am!” Alastor said loudly to be heard above the crowd.

Those gathered cheered me once more and then began to disperse.

“I want to hear all about it soon,” Hermokrates said.

“I will tell you all, but now I am tired,” I said.

“I did say soon.  I see winning prizes has not sharpened your wits.”

I crossed my arms as if angered and glared, but Hermokrates only laughed.

“I am so glad you are safely back.  I missed you!”

“I missed you too, when I had time to miss you.”

Timon, another of my friends, cleared his throat.

“Yes, I missed you, too, Timon,” I said with a smile.

Friends and well-wishers continued to pat me on the shoulder and back as I went inside, but soon it was only Alastor, Draco and me.

“You have very loose lips, Draco,” I said.

“Yes, and you are too modest.  I thought you deserved a proper welcome.  I only told three the news on my way home.  They did the rest.”

“Well, I shall tell you no secrets because everyone would soon know,” I said.

“Oh, secrets I keep, but good news I spread.”

I smiled.  Dear, Draco.  It was no wonder we considered him family.

“Give me a moment and I will get a meal on,” Draco said.

“No, that is too much trouble.  I know you are tired.  We all are.  Go out and purchase some bread and cheese.  That will be quite enough for this evening.  The conquering hero and I will set the table and pour the wine,” Alastor said.

Draco departed.

“Keep calling me hero and it will go to my head.”

“I am sure your head will swell without my help.  How can it not after that welcome?  I have never received such a welcome when I returned.  I have no doubt the swelling will be temporary.”

“I did feel like a conquering general as Hermokrates carried me.”

“You deserved it, little brother.”

“Are we really going to put my prizes on display in the shop?” I asked, as I set out plates and chalices, that we had made ourselves.

“Of course.  Everyone will be eager to see them and it will bring in business, too.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That is because you are an athlete, not a man of business.”

“I’ve never thought of myself as an athlete.”

“You have competed in the games and won prizes.  You are an athlete.  Everyone will see you as such from this point on.”

“I don’t feel like one.  Athletes look like Hermokrates, or like you, with bulging muscles.”

“There is more than one kind of athlete, Nikias.  You are a runner.  It was one such as you who ran all the way from Marathon to bring news that the Persians were on their way.”

“I still don’t feel like one.  I merely like to run.”

“Your modesty becomes you.  The gods will never punish you for hubris.”

Draco soon returned.  The wine, cheese and bread were all I wanted.  Mostly, I desired to undress and crawl into my own bed.  After I had eaten, I did just that, even though it was a little early.  Alastor and Draco did as well.  We were all tired from our adventures and our journey.

I awakened the next morning a bit confused.  I had slept in so many places during our journey that, at first, my own ceiling looked foreign.  Then, I remembered the welcome I had received and how tired I was as I crawled into bed last evening.

I heard movement in the shop.  I sat up.  Helios had already escorted the sun well across the sky.  I did not normally sleep late.  The journey must have tired me more than I thought.  All the travel and awakening in strange places must have put me off balance.  I was confident I would soon be back to my old self, but for now, I needed to get moving.  I quickly dressed and hurried to the kitchen, where I grabbed bread from the night before and gobbled it down.

I hurried to the shop, which was crowded, so much so that both Alastor and Draco were taking care of customers.

“Why didn’t you awaken me?” I asked.

“You deserve your rest and Draco and I can handle things without you now and then.  Now that you are here, you can help and greet your admiring public.”

Several of those in the shop immediately approached me and asked me to tell them about my races.  I began to do so.  I did not mind reliving those events, although truthfully, other things had happened in Corinth that I valued more.

As customers and the merely curious departed, more arrived.  I felt as if I spent hours telling the same stories.  Everyone admired my three prizes and I explained again and again that I’d given away the fourth to the wife of our guest friend.

My voice was nearly hoarse from talking by the time we closed up the shop.

“Our stock is getting dangerously low and we had so many customers I had little time to work today.  After supper we need to put in a few hours,” Alastor said.

I nodded.  I did not mind.  I loved to shape a beautiful piece of pottery from a mere lump of clay.  Even more I loved to paint it and see the finished piece after it had been fired.

“As long as I don’t have to speak, I will be happy.”

“You have a further task before supper.  Go run,” Alastor said.

I smiled.  I didn’t think I’d have time to run today.  My brother made it sound like a command, but he knew he was sending me off to do what I truly loved.

I departed immediately, racing quickly through Plataea so no one would have the chance to stop me and make me talk about the races again.  I slowed only when I’d passed out into the countryside.  Here, there were still many homes and farms, but they were not so tightly packed as in the city.  I headed into the foothills of Mount Cithaeron.

For the first time since I’d awakened, I was alone.  My mind could at last rest.  Telling the same stories over and over again grew tiresome, although the admiration of those who listened did not.  It seemed an odd thing that they were so interested in hearing about me running, when many of them had seen me do so every day since I became old enough to run.  Alastor claimed I could run before I could walk, but I didn’t think that likely.

I ran far, although not as far as I sometimes did.  I was getting hungry and had fond thoughts of whatever Draco might prepare for supper.  It would be something simple.  Stew perhaps or some type of porridge, but there would be bread and perhaps an apple.  Sometimes we had fish, and more rarely meat.  There was always plenty and Draco could make anything taste good.

I also did not run as far as I sometimes did because I was not accustomed to it after our journey.  I could not run when we were at sea and who wanted to run after traversing great distances on foot?  Our journey was an excellent adventure, but I was glad to be home.

The light was already beginning to fail when I departed and had I not known the way, I might have become lost on the way back in the darkness.  I noticed something rather peculiar as I gazed down upon Plataea.  There looked to be a great number of torches lighting the agora, which was strange when there was no festival or other event.  Had I lost track of the days and forgotten?  I considered this as I drew nearer and nearer to town, but still did not come up with an answer when I reached the city streets.

I ran on, my breath coming a bit harder than it should have done, but I knew I’d soon be back in my old form.  I felt well now that I’d escaped the confines of the shop.  After supper, I would return to work, but I did not mind.  Alastor said that when one loved what he did, it was not work at all.  He was correct.

I returned home, eager for supper, but when I walked into the kitchen, I found nothing.

“Bread and cheese again?  I think I can eat the whole loaf myself!” I said.

“No, there is a surprise for you.  Clean up and come back.”

I was confused, but did as I was told.  It did not take long to clean up a bit since I was merely a little sweaty.

I noticed my brother and Draco had cleaned up as well.  They led me out onto the street and began walking.

“What is the surprise?  Does it involve food?”

“You will soon see and yes.”

Alastor was being mysterious and Draco seemed pleased.  I didn’t know what was up, but as long as I could eat, I didn’t much care.

We walked to the agora, where I’d seen the torchlight from afar.  Up close it was much brighter.  We had barely entered when those gathered there began to cheer.  In moments, I was swept off my feet by my friends and placed on their shoulders.  I was in a rather confused state as I was carried away toward a series of long tables.  I could smell the scent of roasting meat upon the air and my stomach rumbled.

My friends deposited me on a raised dais, where the leading men of the town waited.  Two of them immediately clapped their hand upon my shoulders and turned me around to face the crowd that had closed in.  I felt dimwitted later for not realizing what was going on, but at the moment I was thoroughly confused.  Only when one of the men began to speak did I realize this was a feast in my honor.

“This boy and his brother traveled to Corinth, at their own expense, to represent Plataea.  As you likely have already heard, while Alastor was unable to win a prize, Nikias won four!”

Everyone cheered.  I blushed, but no one could tell in the torch light because it reddened the faces of all.

“We are very proud of these brothers, these sons of Plataea.  Alastor, and even more so, Nikias, showed the world the superiority of Plataeans!”

I thought that was overdoing it since we had not won a crown.  One could say we’d lost.

“Next year are the Pythian games at Delphi.  It is in the council’s mind to send this pair to the games at public expense.  What say you to that?”

The crowd cheered and shouted ‘yea’ as one.  My friends screamed it.

“It will be so then!  Nikias and Alastor and perhaps a handful of other worthy athletes will represent Plataea at the Pythian games.  It has been too long since we have been represented there.  Not since…”

I did not listen as my mind wondered.  We were going to Delphi?  Long had I dreamed of visiting that place where the oracle uttered the words of Apollo himself.  Great cities sought the guidance and advice of Apollo in that place.  It was there he had defeated the great serpent.  In only a year’s time, I could go and see Delphi for myself.

“Now, I have talked long enough.”

“Too long!” some in the crowd shouted, eliciting laughs.

“Yes, too long no doubt, but now let the feast in honor of Alastor and most especially Nikias begin!”

I was guided to a place at the head table.  My brother was seated beside me.  Draco was not, but he was not forgotten.  It was well known he was dear to us and so he was given a seat at one of the many tables down below, a rare honor for a slave.

I was immediately served a platter with roast meats, fish, olives, and sweet breads.  This feast was a true treat.

I had been ready to settle for bread and cheese and now I devoured foods that I rarely saw.  I ate slowly because I knew I could only eat so much and I wanted to enjoy every bite.

Throughout the agora there was talking and laughing and then singing as the wine began to flow.  Soon, there was dancing, and also a little fighting, but that was broken up soon enough.  I remained on the dais eating, accepting congratulations and reveling in an event I never expected would occur and that would never happen again.

I do not remember how I got home that night.  Doubtless Alastor and Draco took me there.  I perhaps drank a little too much wine or maybe I simply nodded off, but the next morning I awakened in my bed.  The feast seemed almost a dream, but I knew it was not.  Even so, I almost could not believe Plataea had thrown a feast for me; a boy who had never fought in a battle and whose only claim to success was that he could run.

Chapter Five

For most, the day began at dawn, but I arose each morning before Helios drew his chariot across the sky.  I quietly slipped outside and began my usual run.

The morning was warm enough that even my most sensitive parts did not feel chilly.  I always ran wearing the least clothing possible and often stripped nude once I was out of town because athletes competed nude in the games.

I passed homes and shops, and then finally the theatre and out into the countryside I knew so well.  All was quiet at this hour and the stars shone overhead.  I knew some of them were gods and others mortals who had been placed in the heavens due to heroic deeds or the favor of the gods.  I wondered about the others because I could see so many it didn’t seem there could be that many gods and heroes.  I also wondered if they could gaze down and see me from such a height.

My feet had raced along the paths above Plataea so often the lack of light was not a hindrance.  I had run here nearly every morning since I was very young to prepare myself for the day when I hoped I could compete in the games.  My losses were bitter and yet I could not help but be pleased I had come so close to winning.  Alastor, Draco and the entire city were pleased with me.  Why else would they throw a feast in my honor?

I would have been more disappointed if I was not smaller of stature than all the other runners.  I wondered what the older and taller boys thought about the fact I had beaten them.  There was only one winner and I had lost, but someday I would wear a crown.  Perhaps Apollo would look upon me favorably at Delphi.

On my way back down, I stopped to drink at the sacred spring.  I think that drinking from it so often was one of the reasons I could run so fast, and so far.  It was here for all, but I doubted any came as often as I did.

I always rested here not so much because I was tired, but to feel closer to Apollo.  He was not known to have a special attachment to this spring, but I could feel his presence here.  I felt him more here than in the temple.  I respected all the gods, but Apollo the most of all.  I had always felt a closeness to him that I did not with the others.  I sometimes wished he would snatch me up as Zeus did Ganymede, but I did not possess that boy’s beauty.  Still, if Apollo came for me, I would not resist, but would give myself to him willingly.  Perhaps, he would even place me in the heavens so I could gaze down upon the world forever.

I ran back the way I came and arrived in time to have bread and olive oil for breakfast with Alastor and Draco.  As soon as we finished, we opened the shop.  It was not long before our first customer arrived.  The prizes I had won at the Isthmian games continued to draw in the curious, but not so many as at first, and I was able to paint.

This morning, I stuck to more utilitarian pieces with simple decorations; bowls with mere bands of color, oil lamps with only simple geometric designs, and drinking cups with an owl that I found easy to paint.   Even so, I took my time to make each beautiful.  We did not turn out inferior wares in our shop.  These simple pieces were the type of wares we sold in the greatest quantity, both because they were the least expensive and the most needed.  These everyday wares were often broken and needed to be replaced.  Also, we had sold out of them in the recent rush of customers, so we desperately needed more.

The finer pieces with detailed painted scenes were what I enjoyed creating the most.  Such a piece took far longer to complete, but also sold for a good deal more.  The higher price meant we sold fewer of the finest wares, but they were still well worth the time.  We would have created such pieces even if there wasn’t much profit in them.  The fine wares are what my brother, myself, and our father before us were known for.  They were our claim to fame, although now I also had my participation in the games.

Even Draco took pride in our wares.  He had tried his hand at forming pots and was a dismal failure.  He had also tried decorating them and was an even bigger failure at that.  I wondered perhaps if one of our ancestors had blessed our family with the talent for creating and decorating pottery, since we could do it so well and most others could not.

Draco was still very much a part of the success of our workshop.  It was he who prepared the clay and saw to the firing of the pieces we created.  Our customers had no idea that these tasks were as critical as forming and decorating the pottery.  Clay had to be precisely the right consistency to form a fine piece, and if pottery was fired at too low or too high a temperature, disaster could be the result.  The same was true if it was fired too long, for too short a time or allowed to cool too quickly.  There was an art to all these things and that was Draco’s realm.  He knew he had as much to do with the final pieces as Alastor and I.

Customers came and went all morning. Our stock was growing dangerously low, but that was good news rather than bad.  Low stock meant good sales.  This had happened before when there were lots of visitors in town for festivals, but never to this degree.  I had never considered that placing in the games would affect our business.

Draco sold two finely painted cups that I had made myself, one depicting Apollo with his bow and another the theatre of Plataea.  Later, he sold a Kylix with a scene on both sides of wrestlers competing.  Our very last krater also sold.  It was a large and intricately painted piece.  I had spent many days decorating it with all the different competitions of the games—running, the chariot race, wrestling, boxing, and pankration.

I had a feeling that athletic competitions were going to be one of my new favorites when it came to decorating pottery.  While I repeated many themes, no two pieces I painted were exactly alike.  One of the things I enjoyed most about painting was creating new scenes and new ways of depicting standard scenes such as Apollo playing an instrument like the kithara and lyre.

***

Hermokrates walked toward us looking as if it had just tasted sour wine.

“I wish he would leave me alone.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Doros.  He ambushed me outside.”

“You should be pleased to have a potential erastes.  Before, you had none,” said Hyperion.

“I have two suitors who are not old and fat as you know well!” Hermokrates said hotly.

“He is only teasing you, of course you have suitors,” I said.

“Hermokrates is not the only one with a suitor,” Hyperion said, gazing across the gymnasium to Xanthos, then back to me.  “He has eyes only for you, Nikias.”

“Xanthos is too young to be a suitor.  He is barely fifteen himself,” Timon said.

“Perhaps he is looking to the future,” Timon said.

“Or perhaps he hopes to trap you in a dark alley.  You should be careful around him,” Hermokrates said.

“Yes, like Kleitos,” Timon said.

“Is that even true?” I asked.

“I’ve heard it was.  He snuck out at night for who knows what reason and a gang of older boys used him as if he was a slave girl,” Hyperion said.

“He is handsome enough to attract such attention,” Timon said.

“Which means you need not worry!” I said.

The others laughed.

“At least I am not so ugly as you, Nikias.  Your father should have named you Medusa.”

I grinned.  We insulted and teased each other, but did not grow angry.  The truth was, Timon was quite handsome himself.

“What I wonder is what Kleitos was doing out so very late,” Hermokrates said.

“Perhaps he wanted to be attacked,” Hyperion said.

“No, that is you, Hyperion.  I hear you wander the streets and alleys at all hours hoping to be violated, but can find no takers,” Timon said.

“Do not confuse me with yourself, Timon!”

We all laughed again.

Xanthos eyed me again.  There was no mistaking it.  I blushed.  I was not accustomed to being noticed by the young men, but I was of an age that I might attract a suitor.  Hermokrates truthfully had two, in addition to the old and fat Doros.  It was no wonder.  He possessed a beautiful face and form.

“See.  He cannot keep his eyes off you,” Hyperion said.

“He is looking at Hermokrates no doubt,” I said, although there was no question he was looking at me.

“Hermokrates did not come second in the games.  I doubt he could even place.”

“Neither could you, slow foot Hyperion,” Hermokrates said.

“What I lack in speed I make up for in strength.  If you think yourself so fleet of foot, make Doros an offer to be his eromenos if he can beat you to the finish line.”

“I would never chance it for the fear the gods might intervene on his behalf.  I would rather die than have him as erastes.”

“Why does he even bother?  Doesn’t he know we laugh at him?” Timon asked.

“We’ve laughed at others,” I said.  “If I become fat, I will not humiliate myself by pursuing an eromenos.”

“Doros should not pursue one at all.  He is too old,” Timon said.  “If I ever become like him, promise me you will put a sword through my heart.”

“Gladly,” Hyperion said and grinned.

“But not before!”

“Why wait?”

Timon crossed his arms and glared.  Hermokrates and I looked at each other and smiled.

“I think that Nikias will have no end of suitors now.  I saw several young men eye him while we walked to the gymnasium and they were the right age to be suitors,” Hyperion said.

“You saw what I did not then,” I said.

“That is because you are too lost in your own thoughts.”

“He was probably reliving the feast held in his honor,” Timon said.

“More like still walking around in shock because there was a feast in my honor,” I said.  “I do not think I deserved that.”

“While I would love to agree with you, I do not.  Placing in the games is an enormous honor.  Had you won there might be a statue of you right here in the gymnasium.”

“Are we going to train or are we going to gab like females?” I asked.

“I want to work on the discus,” Hermokrates said.

“You can already throw further than any of us,” Hyperion said.

“Yes, but that is because you are all weaklings!”

Hermokrates grabbed Hyperion and put him in a headlock while the rest of us laughed.

We moved to the discus practice area.  A year ago, I could not lift it, but now I could hurl it a fair distance.  It would be a long time before I could throw it a decent distance, but I had to begin somewhere.

Helios, as always in this season, shown down upon the gymnasium bright and hot.  We soon began to sweat and the dust began to adhere to our heated, damp skin.  I marveled at how far Hermokrates could toss the discus.  He could not match the older youths, but he came close.  I wished I possessed strength like his, but I had learned to be content with what skills I had.

I focused on the task at hand, but eyed the older boys from time to time.  Only those under eighteen were allowed in the gymnasium at this hour.  There were very strict rules about that.  The only exception was the handful of trainers. Alastor said it was to protect us boys against those who were older and would take advantage.  The penalty for doing so was severe, going as far as death, so it was a real danger.  My brother had talked to me about such things as I’d grown older.

After the discus, we wrestled.  I was at a disadvantage here because most of my friends were bigger.  I did okay with some of the other boys my age, but I knew I would never compete in the pale’ like my brother.

I liked to wrestle the other boys, especially those who were bigger.  Feeling their sweaty nude bodies glide against mine filled me with desire.  Sometimes, that desire stiffened my phallus, but that was not uncommon while boys wrestled.  It did draw comments and teasing.

“Look, Nikias likes Hermokrates very much!” Hyperion said, pointing out my enlarged member.

“You are merely jealous he does not like you so much,” Timon said.

“You are jealous because we can see when Nikias likes us.  When you do, no one can tell, Timon!”

We all laughed, including Timon.  He could laugh.  He was quite sizable.

We were always nude in the gymnasium.  I could not recall a time when I thought anything about it.  The nudity of the other boys, especially the older ones, had lately become of interest to me.  I was quite sure it was the same for my friends.  No doubt they felt what I did down below.

I thought of Markos and the things we had done.  I wished we had done even more, but perhaps it was best we did not.  I did not want to appear too eager or rumors might circulate about me as they did Kleitos.  I gazed at him a moment, wondering if the rumors about what happened to him were true.

When we completed our exercise, we went inside and pulled our strigils and small bottles or jars of olive oil from our bins.  We spread the oil over our dirty, sweaty bodies, helping each other to reach our backsides.  I particularly enjoyed spreading the oil over Hermokrates’ wide back and down over his firm, shapely buttocks.

Once we were oiled, we scraped the oil, dust and sweat with our strigils.  Mine was a very old bronze one, but it looked the same as one made yesterday, except for the aged appearance of the bronze.  Again, we helped each other reach difficult areas, which I again enjoyed, although not so much as spreading oil with my hands over bare skin.

Once we were cleaned, we moved to the heated pool and jumped in.  The warmth was almost too much after being out in the hot sun for so long, but it relaxed tired muscles.

As always, we began to wrestle and dunk each other in the water.  This activity had taken on new significance for me.  It was a chance to touch the hard bodies of my friends, especially Hermokrates.

After the heated pool, we jumped into the cold pool.  The chilly water was always a shock at first.

“If that won’t shrink your phallus, nothing will,” Hyperion said.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Mine shrinks more when I look at you,” Hermokrates said.

“You’re ready to become a comedic playwright, aren’t you?”

“I thought it was fairly clever.”

“Perhaps a bit,” Timon said.

“You are jealous of my beauty,” Hyperion said.

“Yes, you have found me out, Hyperion,” Hermokrates said.

Hyperion set a wall of cold water toward Hermokrates and dowsed him, making him laugh.

We exited from the pool, walked to the changing room, dried and then dressed.  I enjoyed feeling clean, but I was sorry to see the supple bodies of my companions covered.

Most of us parted as soon as we stepped out of the gymnasium, but Hermokrates and I walked together a bit since his home was on the way to mine.

“You are improving in all areas,” Hermokrates said.

“I could hardly get worse with the discus.”

“Nonsense, someday you will throw it further than me.”

“That will not happen, but at least I can out race you.”

“Me and most of the world.  I bet you could give Achilles a good run if you were in his time.”

“I’d have a fine view of his backside until he disappeared into the distance!”

Hermokrates laughed.

“You will never be accused of hubris and if you are it will be unjustly.”

“I know what I can do and what I cannot.  I work for more, but am pleased with what I possess.”

“That is why I count you wise.”

Soon, our ways parted and I walked on alone.  It was only then that I realized we had been followed.  I groaned as Doros drew even with me.

“Greetings, Nikias and congratulations with your victories in Corinth.”

“I did not win, but thank you.”

I wished he would leave me be.  Doros pursued Hermokrates and now I feared he was after me.

“I wish I could have watched you complete.  I am sure you were a fine sight.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“I know you are young, but I wish to plead my case before others approach.  I can offer you much, Nikias.  I am sure you know I have great wealth.”

“I am not a whore.”

“Oh no.  Of course not!  I merely mean…”

“Doros.  Please stop.  I am not interested and will never be interested.  It is too early for me to accept a suitor.  Even if I wished it, my brother would not allow it and he would never accept you.  I’m sure you have many fine qualities, but you are simply not a good match for me.”

“Perhaps, but I must try and I do not give up easily.”

“Of that I am aware.”

“Good then, we understand each other.  Have a good day, Nikias.”

“Good day, Doros.”

I walked on quickly before he thought of something else to say and followed me.  Why did he pursue boys at his age?  I was not naïve, but if he wanted a boy, he could easily have one at the whore house or he could buy a slave boy, or a few of them if he was as wealthy as it was said.  Why did he humiliate himself when no respectable boy would accept him?

I returned to work after exercising and was fashioning a small krater when Phaidon entered.  I had seen him in the agora, the theatre, and happened upon him at times in the city.  As far as I knew, he had never been in our shop before, but now he was here browsing our wares.

What caught my attention the most was his mass of black, wavy hair that reached his shoulders.  Next, I took in his handsome face and green eyes that almost seemed to sparkle.  He was older than me, perhaps as old as twenty-five and possessed the body of an athlete.  Having him so near made me breathe a bit harder.

“Did you make some of these?” he asked, gazing at some of the alabastrons, hydria, kraters, amphora, jugs, kantharos and other pieces we had on display.

I stopped working at my wheel, rinsed and dried my hands and came around the counter.

“I made some and my brother made some.  This one, this one, this one, and this one are all mine,” I said, and then pointed out others.  “I do the painted designs on nearly all the pieces.  Alastor has mostly given that over to me.”

“I can see why.  These are of wondrous work.”

I bowed my head.

“This is amazing for one so young.  How old are you?”

“I am twelve.”

“That young?  I would have guessed thirteen at the least and perhaps fourteen.”

I straightened my shoulders, stood taller and tried not to smile.  I could tell this wasn’t flattery.  He truly meant what he said.

“Your youth makes your artistic ability all the more impressive and you are an accomplished runner, too,” he said, moving over to take in the prizes I had won at the games.

“Not as accomplished as I thought I was.  I was naïve enough to think I would win.”

“Not so naïve.  You came very close and so many times.  You probably aren’t aware, but I am a runner as well.”

“I am aware.  What is it like to be crowned at Delphi?”

“I think it is the closest I will ever come to feeling like a hero.  The glory does not last long, but oh, when that crown of laurel was placed upon my brow I felt as if I owned the world.”

Phaidon turned and smiled at me.  I had not before noticed the beautiful shape of his lips.

“I think the glory lasts longer than you admit.  Everyone knows who you are in Plataea.”

“True, but that is my past.  It is ahead for you.”

“I do not know if I will ever be able to win a crown, but I will be competing at Delphi.  I run daily to prepare.”

“Perhaps I can help you, with your brother’s permission, of course,” Phaidon said.  “I always found running easier when I had someone to run with.”

I looked over at my brother, who had so far remained silent.

“I think a companion would aid you and you would be safer as well,” Alastor said.

“I would let no harm come to him when he is with me,” Phaidon said.

Alastor nodded.  My heart raced.

“When do you run?” Phaidon asked.

“Early in the mornings mostly.  I begin just before the sun rises.  That allows me to escape the heat of the day and does not interfere with my work here.”

“That is wise.  I did that as well, but I also ran in the heat of the day because many of the competitions take place in the broiling sun.”

“I feel a fool, but I did not think of that,” I said.

“You are no fool.  It did not occur to me for quite a long time either.  When it did, I wondered why I had not thought of it before.  I could join you tomorrow if you like.  Mind you, while I still run, I have not trained in some years.  I am twenty-four now and not as fast as I was.  I hope you will not leave me behind.”

I grinned.

“That will be wonderful,” I said.

“That is settled then.  Now, I did come in looking for a cup.  It must be one you have made and decorated, no offense to your brother.”

I pointed out those that I had both formed and painted.

“This one, without doubt.  It reminds me of you,” he said, selecting a large two-handle cup with boys racing on both sides.

“That is one of the few I have made since our return.  It is the stadion race at the Isthmian games.  The boy in front is Alkides, who runs like the wind and won the crown.  The second boy is me.”

“Then I have chosen well.  After the next games, you can create a similar cup, but with yourself in front.”

“I shall work hard to make it true,” I said.

Phaidon paid for his purchase and departed.  I stood and watched him go.

“Am I wrong or is he…” I began when he departed.

“He is courting you.  He wishes to be your suitor.”

“Do you approve?”

Please say you do.  Please say you do.

“You are too young to have a suitor.”

I began to open my mouth to argue and to make the case that having a suitor would keep those like Doros away, but Alastor held up his hand to silence me.

“You are too young to have a suitor,” he repeated.  “But, a boy could not wish for a suitor more desirable than Phaidon.”

I knew my brother was not speaking of his physical desirability, but of Phaidon’s accomplishments and skills.  He could teach me a great deal.  I was thinking of both.  My phallus was thinking of but one.

“What do you think of Phaidon?  Do you find him acceptable?” Alastor asked.

“Very acceptable.”

“Do not be too eager to grant him favors.  An eromenos does not give himself too easily or freely to his erastes.  A respectable erastes will not be angered when his eromenos denies him.  He will instead expect his eromenos to resist until the time is right.”

“How do I know when the time is right?”

“That is a difficult question to answer.  I denied Akakios only twice when he attempted to place his lips upon mine, but I resisted granting him more intimate favors far longer.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Some erastes will only slide between your legs.  If he enters you, it will hurt, but soon there is also pleasure.  You may grow to like it, but do not grow to like it too much because you must give it up when you become a man.”

“Why is that?”

“It is considered unmanly to allow another to penetrate you.  It is something that is sometimes done to vanquished enemies on the battlefield to show complete dominance.  To allow it, is to act as a woman.”

“But it’s acceptable for a boy?”

“Yes, in the proper relationship, as with an erastes.  Outside of that, it is not so acceptable.”

“There are so many rules.”

“You know you may always come to me with questions.”

“Did you allow Akakios to penetrate you when he was your erastes?”

“Yes.”

“And it hurt?”

“It brought tears to my eyes at first, but I bore it for him.  After the second or third time, it became pleasurable.”

“Was it difficult to put it aside when you became a man?”

“I experienced some regret because I had grown accustomed to it, but it was not hard to put aside.  There are many things one must leave behind when once ceases to be a boy.  There is a time for everything and my time as an eromenos was done.  I was eager for what was to come.”

“I am excited, but also frightened,” I said.

“The choice is ultimately yours.”

“Oh, I do not mean I will reject him.  I count myself lucky to have one such as Phaidon pursue me, but all this is an unknown.”

“I think you will find it enjoyable overall, but remember, he is your teacher.  As his eromenos, you must show him respect and obey him.”

“I understand.”

We grew silent.  I had much to think about.  I was frightened.  Would I know how to act?  Would I make a fool of myself?  Would Phaidon find me less than he expected?  What if I shamed myself by giving into his advances too quickly?  That was a danger.  A part of me wanted…  No, I wouldn’t think about that.  I was also afraid of what would happen when I did submit.  If it brought tears to my eyes, how could I bear it?  I supposed I didn’t have to worry about that for a while, but what if I was wrong about Phaidon?  What if he demanded it immediately?  The face one showed the public didn’t necessarily reveal the true character of a man.  What if he was cruel in private?  What if he abused me?

Your brother would not allow that.  If you told him, he would stop it.

That was true.  I had Alastor to protect me, although I intended to stand on my own two feet as much as possible.  I was not a man, but I was edging closer.  Gaining an erastes was a first step.

I smiled.  Phaidon was so very handsome.  When it came time for him to choose a wife, he could likely have his pick, even more so than my brother.  That time had not come.  It was now his time to take an eromenos and he had chosen me.  I was a very lucky boy.

Chapter Six

I was already waiting when Phaidon arrived before dawn the next morning.  I smiled at his approach and stood.

“I am ready to run,” I said.

“Good, but first, there is another matter.”

Phaidon held out a sprig of purple flowers to me, bound with a beautiful ribbon of dark green.  It was a courting gift, offered because Phaidon wished to be my erastes.  If I accepted, it meant I wished to be his eromenos.

I reached out and took the offered flowers.  Phaidon smiled.

“I thought the ribbon would look fine upon your brow, but it is not for running.”

I smiled.

“I will return in a moment!”

I hurried inside and quickly found Draco.

“Put these in water and place them in my room please,” I said.

“Phaidon?” he asked.

I grinned and nodded.  “I must go.  He is waiting.”

“I am happy for you, Nikias.”

“Tell my brother.”

“Gladly.”

I hurried back outside where I gazed up at my handsome erastes.

I am ready.  We began to run through the streets of Plataea, the cool morning air chilling our naked skin.  The town was just beginning to awaken with a few carts coming in with produce from the countryside and a few shops opening their shutters and putting up their awnings.  Slaves and those who could not afford them dipped water from the spring fed fountain.  Cocks crowed as the eastern sky began to glow while Helios and his chariot neared.

I ran at my usual pace and Phaidon ran silently at my side.  He could easily leave me behind in the dust, but I knew he would not.  I wanted to impress him, but he had asked me to take him on my usual morning run.

The air was slightly chilly on my face and mostly bare arms and legs as we left the city for the countryside, but I knew I would warm as I ran. We followed the road at first, but soon I cut off onto a track and then onto what was little more than a trail used by shepherds, their flocks, wild things and me.

I noted Phaidon gaze at me now and then, appraising me.  Was he second guessing himself?  Did he think now that he should, perhaps, have chosen another boy?  I wondered at his choice of me when he could have someone like Hermokrates with his fine features and shapely body.  Did an erastes ever dismiss his eromenos in favor of another?

We ran on.  It was long before my breath began to come harder.  The steepness of the foothills stressed the hard muscles of my legs, but I could run up the steep terrain far more easily now than when I first tried it.  I remembered how my muscles ached then and how I walked back home on legs as wobbly as those of a newborn lamb.

I did not give up after that first attempt, but came back again and again until I ran up the steep trails without gasping for breath and without my legs feeling as if they wanted to travel in random directions.

My breath came a little harder now.  Phaidon’s did not at first, but after a while his came harder, too.  It was barely enough to notice, but I did notice.

The golden glows of Helios fell upon the wild sage, scrub brush and olives as the trail leveled out.  Before long, the exertion and the sun began to warm me and sweat even appeared on my brow.  Still, we ran on and on, following the route I had so many times alone.

It was different running with Phaidon.  We did not speak, but he was there, a companion to keep me company and also to make me feel safer.  It was not that I ran through the hills and countryside in fear.  There were too many inhabitants and too many passing back and forth to Plataea for there to be bandits.  The dangerous wild creatures, like the wild boar avoided places where people frequented.  The danger from those up to no good was greater out here than in the town, but not great.  I always kept my eyes and ears open when I ran, but not once had I run into danger.  Even so, I knew Phaidon would protect me if danger came.  I, in turn, would do what I could to protect him.

I considered not stopping at the spring near town where I usually paused for a drink, but Phaidon wanted to witness my usual route and way of doing things, so failing to stop would be a falsehood.  My breath was coming hard by the time we reached the spring and I was glad for a chance to rest.

We halted, kneeled and drank.  I observed Phaidon out of the corner of my eye as we did so and listened to his breath, harder now, but not nearly as hard as my own.

Phaidon gazed at me as we straightened and then sat back.

“I know now why you placed in the games.  I did not expect one your age to run so far or over such rough terrain.”

I blushed with the compliment.  “At first, the steepest trails defeated me and forced me to walk and even stop and rest, but I tackled them morning after morning.  My brother had told me the tale of Sisyphus, who could never quite roll the boulder to the top of hill, but who forever tackled the task again and again.  I thought of him, never giving up, and decided I would not give up either.  Running up that trail was my boulder and I told myself that someday I would get to the top.”

“And you did.”

“Finally.  I knew others might think me foolish for putting so much effort into something that yielded so little result, but I could not and would not let it go.”

“Oh, but it yielded many results.  Look at your legs, how muscled they are for your years.  Look at what you achieved at the games.  Not every boy has a feast thrown in his honor and now the city will send you to Delphi to officially represent it.  Pushing your boulder over the hill has profited you much.”

“True.  I never thought of it that way.  Mostly, I simply like to run.  When I do, I think my thoughts without distraction.  I can be within myself for a time, if that makes sense.”

“Yes, it does and I understand.”

“My brother has encouraged me and allows me the time to run.  It is time I could be working in the shop, but he says it is important that I follow my dreams.”

“Your brother is wise.”

“He is a father to me.  He was even when he was young, after our father died.”

“Alastor is an admirable man.  All respect him, as they did and do your father.  I remember hearing stories about how he sacrificed his life to save others, not in battle, where a warrior is expected to stand with his fellows, but in his home city during peacetime.  He saved a family he did not even know while others stood back in fear or were held fast by self-preservation.  Since I heard that story, I, like all others, consider your father a hero.  I made up my mind then to keep an eye on his sons and see what they became.  I was too close in age to Alastor to be his erastes.  I am a mere four years older than he, but you are half my age, and while younger than usual, I deemed you ready to be my eromenos.”

“I will try to be worthy of your choice.”

“You already are and I have no doubt will remain so.”

Phaidon gazed at me then.  I thought, for a moment, he might lean in and down to kiss me.  I knew I had to turn away if he did so, but doing so would be so very hard because I wanted him to kiss me so very much.  I had no need to worry.  He did not make the attempt.  Instead, he smiled at me.

“We should go.  I usually do not remain here long in the mornings,” I said.

Phaidon nodded, stood, and gave me a hand up.  We began to run again.  I think I smiled all the way back to my door.

***

Alexandros, a very wealthy Plataean, entered the shop.  His eyes wandered until they settled on me.  He gazed at me as if I was a pot he was considering for purchase and then looked away again.  Alexandros was handsome, with auburn hair and blue eyes.  He was somewhat older than Phaidon, but not quite so muscled.  He had a reputation of getting what he wanted, no matter the cost.

“I wish to commission a piece,” he said.

“We can fulfill most requests.  What do you have in mind?” Alastor asked.

Alexandros eyed me for a moment, making me feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“I wish to purchase a volute krater, decorated on one side with Ganymede impaled upon the phallus of Zeus while the god supports him by the buttocks.  On the other side, I want Ganymede, bent over, receiving the phallus of Zeus.  I would like Nikias to paint it for me.  Surely a boy with the beauty of Ganymede and the talent of your family can create a showpiece.”

Alexandros gazed at me again with a slight smile on his lips that made me uncomfortable.  Alastor eyed him wearily and I feared he might turn down the commission, but he did not.  A volute krater was indeed a showpiece, very large and with an elegant shape.  The handles on the sides curved up and over the rim.  I could already see the form taking shape in my mind.  I had not attempted a piece so large and detailed before, but I was confident I could do it.

“What do you think, Nikias?” Alastor asked.

“I can do it.”

Alastor and Alexandros discussed the details, including size and price.  It was an expensive piece that would require much work.

I continued to design the krater in my mind as they talked.  I had formed every shape of pottery, but never a volute krater so large.  It would be much more difficult than the smaller versions I’d made, but I would have Alastor here to help me.  I was excited by the challenge.

“I look forward to viewing your artistry,” Alexandros said, smiling at me even as his eyed me.  His gaze traveled down my body, making me feeling uncomfortable.

Alastor watched him depart.

“He could be a valuable customer, but there is something unsavory about him.  I do not like the way he looks at you.”

“Many older men look at me now, especially since Phaidon has taken me as his eromenos.”

“I would not say that to others.  It reeks of conceit.  I know you do not mean it that way, but others will not.  Choose your words more carefully, brother.”

“I will, Alastor.  Now, I need to see Draco about the clay for this project,” I said.

I did so.  While the clay we used for all our wares was fine, this project could require an especially fine clay of just the right consistency.  I had only to tell Draco the form and size and he would prepare the clay for me.  He was an artist in his own right.  It took an artist to mix the clay properly for the various forms and sizes we sold.  Most would not acknowledge it, but a good potter knew how critical the clay was to the final product.

While Draco worked his magic, I returned my attention to the pyxis I was decorating.  It was a small piece, only the span of my hand wide, but the lid made it a bit more challenging.  That challenge was thankfully behind me because I wanted to get the pyxis finished so I could begin drawing designs to decorate the krater.

Later, as I created the designs, I wondered at the choice of subject.  Zeus kidnapped Ganymede because he was a beautiful boy.  He took him to Mount Olympus to act as his cupbearer and also to sate the lusts of the god.  Alexandros had stated I possessed the beauty of Ganymede.  Both of the paintings he’d request were of Zeus penetrating Ganymede.  I felt almost as if Alexandros was announcing his desire to do the same to me.

You are handsome, Alexandros, but you are no Zeus and I will never be your Ganymede.  I am taken by Phaidon.

I smiled as I did every time I thought of Phaidon.  I was proud to have him as my erastes.

***

Phaidon ran by my side, his bare torso covered in sweat and gleaming in the bright sun.  I was wet with sweat and it would have stung my eyes if not for the cloth Phaidon had brought me to tie around my brow.  We ran in the heat of a day, a time I had previously avoided.  I ran now because Phaidon desired it and it was a part of my training.

My breath came harder and faster than usual due to the heat.  Helios was merciless in the early afternoon and a part of me yearned to return to the cooler shade of the shop.  That was the desire of my body.  My desire was to be exactly where I was, by Phaidon’s side.

I stole looks at my erastes as he ran.  His firm muscles tensed and flexed as he ran with far greater ease than me.  He reminded me of the statue of Apollo near his temple, but no man could match a god.  Still, I marveled at his body, from his wide, thick chest to his flat stomach to the hard and shapely calves of his legs.  We ran in only the briefest of clothing and so I could see parts of Phaidon I had never even glimpsed before.

I struggled to keep up the pace.  Phaidon was not running with great speed but the heat was a powerful foe.  It drained me of strength even as it drained me of moisture.  I felt almost that I knew what it felt like to be a drying fig.

The run was becoming almost too much for me.  I was crossing over from discomfort to pain.  My chest burned inside, my mouth was parched.  I no longer thought of Phaidon or the scenery.  I needed all my will simply to keep moving forward.

I stumbled as we neared the spring, but Phaidon was there to steady me.  He urged me forward and I ran, until he put his arm across my chest to slow me to a walk.   Even then, I felt as if I might drop, but my breath and heart began to slow and I no longer gasped like a fish out of the sea.

We stopped at the spring, drinking long but only a little at a time.  We splashed water on our faces and bodies to cool ourselves, then Phaidon sat near me.

“I am pleased you did not give up.  Many would have thrown themselves to the ground.  There is a reason little work is done in the heat of the day.  Only a madman, or one who is training for the games, would run when the countryside is a furnace.”

“I have always avoided running at this time of the day.  I doubted my ability to keep pace with you today, but I do not wish to disappoint you.”

“You will never disappoint me, Nikias.  Now, tell me about your day while we rest.”

I told him about the piece I was creating for Alexandros and noted Phaidon frowned at the mention of the name.  I told him about beginning to form the krater only this morning.  Phaidon’s frown became a smile as he listened to my enthusiastic description of my plans for its construction and decoration.

“I envy your ability to create with your hands.  I marvel at it,” Phaidon said.

“I think anyone can do it if they keep at it long enough.”

“Sadly, I fear that is not true.  Oh, anyone who tries to form and decorate a piece of pottery will no doubt improve with practice, but only a true artist can create a thing of beauty.”

I shrugged.  I thought that Phaidon might attempt to kiss me as we sat so near I could almost feel his breath, but he did not.  I chided myself for being impatient and reminded myself not to give in easily.  My erastes would not admire me for that.

It was difficult being an eromenos.  It was wonderful as well, but I found it confusing.  I knew the relationship was mostly to my benefit.  Phaidon would teach me many things, aid me and help me to become a man of strength and character who would be respected in the community.  I was expected to satisfy his sexual desires, but not too soon and not too willingly.  That was the confusing and difficult part.  I felt as if I was being told to do and not to do the same thing.  It was like having someone shout, “Go!  No, stop!”  The relationship would have been far easier if I was simply expected to submit to his desires without hesitation.

I added the erastes/eromenos relationship to the many things I did not understand.  So many parts of life were far too complex.  That is why I liked running, creating pottery and painting.  It was all simple and straightforward.

“Are you ready to continue?” Phaidon asked.

“Yes, the water has largely restored me.”

We stood and began to run again, but now our path was downhill and toward Plataea.  Helios began once more to force sweat from my body, but the headache I had felt forming had disappeared and the short rest had prepared me for the remainder of our run.  I now had no doubt I could make it.

Many eyes followed us as we ran through the town.  Phaidon was well known both for former victories in the games and other accomplishments.  I was known only for winning prizes at the Isthmian games, but that fame had increased interest in my skills as a potter.  Artisans were generally not honored, but our family turned out the best pottery in Plataea.  We rivaled the best potters of Athens and so we were not considered mere artisans, but as something more.

I wondered how many gazed at Phaidon not for his fame, but for his form.  He possessed the perfection that men aspired to achieve.  I was proud to run at his side and to be his eromenos.  Likely, word was already spreading.

I was out of breath and once more slick with sweat when we reached my door.  I again felt like a fish on the shore.

“Will you come in for some wine?” I asked,

“No, thank you.  I have much business to attend to, but I am very pleased with your performance today.  I doubt any other boy your age could run so far in this heat.”

“It was a challenge, but made easier because you were at my side.”

“Until tomorrow,” Phaidon said, and then momentarily caressed my hair.  His touch was brief, but it set me on fire.

“Until tomorrow,” I said and then watched him depart.

I entered our shop, where my brother was at work.  For the moment, it was empty of customers.  Few ventured out in the heat of the afternoon.

“You look as if you have been swimming,” Alastor said.

“I wish I had been.  I perspired so much I felt like a dried fig until we reached the spring.  I am now beginning to feel the same again.”

“Have some well-watered wine.  It will help.”

“I will.”

“Did you conduct yourself well?”

“You know I would do nothing to shame you, or myself.”

“I know,” Alastor said with a smile.

“I will admit to something.  I want Phaidon to touch me.  I want him to kiss me, and more.  Is that wrong?”

“No.  When I was the eromenos of Akakios, I burned for him to touch me.  I even… I even sometimes wished he would force me so that I could submit without shame.”

“What I feel is okay?”

“Yes.  Such desires are natural for a boy, just as the desires of a man are natural for a man.”

“Then why all the resistance on the part of the boy?  Why does the man wait at all?”

“It is a matter of respect for your partner and for yourself.  If Phaidon attempted to take you at once, he would dishonor you.  He would be treating you like a common whore or like a slave he can use as he pleases.  He would also dishonor himself by taking what he had not yet earned.  His task is to educate you, train you and help you to become a respectable man.  That would not be served by treating you as his toy.”

“And, why must I resist when he wants me and I want him to take me?” I asked this without blushing.  I could talk to my brother about anything.

“Because then you would be acting like a whore or a slave.  You would be without discipline, without self-control.  You would cheapen yourself.”

“It’s all rather too complicated.”

“Yes, it is, I know, but you will find the relationship worth it.  Akakios and I left our physical relationship behind when I became a man, but the friendship and love remain.  Now, go get something to drink before you shrivel into a dried fig.”

I smiled and headed for the kitchen.  There, I poured much water and a little wine into a cup and drank it down.  Next, I went to my room, stripped off my loincloth and then cleaned my body with olive oil and a strigil as I did at the gymnasium.  Once clean, I dressed and headed back into the shop to continue work on the krater for Alexandros.

***

“Is that Nikias, or perhaps it is Ganymede come down from Olympus to show us his beauty,” Timon said as I neared him and my other friends in the agora.

“Have you been at the undiluted wine, Timon?” I asked.  “You must have been if you confuse me for Ganymede.  I am not even the most attractive among your ugly faces.”

Hyperion laughed, but Hermokrates did not.

“What is wrong, Hermokrates?” I asked.

“He has been in a sour mood for two days and he will not tell us why,” Timon said.

“I am not in a sour mood.  I am merely not up for playing the fool, as you are always.”

“See?  Sour mood.”

Hermokrates gazed at me as if he was angry with me.

“What will lighten your heart, my friend.  Shall we go off together and say nasty things about Timon?  Or, perhaps we can write about him on alley walls,” I said.

“You’d best not do the latter!” Timon said.

At last, Hermokrates smiled.

“I heard a rumor you have gone mad and now run when those more sensible are inside in the shade, Nikias,” Hyperion said.

“Yes, and he runs with Phaidon.  Is it true then?  Is he your erastes,” Timon asked.

“It is true,” I said.

“You are too young for an erastes,” Hermokrates barked.

“Don’t be so protective.  Phaidon is more than respectable.  He is the opposite of Doros.  Alastor would not allow it if he did not approve and Nikas is perhaps the wisest among us,” Hyperion said.

“He is still too young.”

“I do not think so.  Alastor does not think so.  Phaidon does not think so,” I said.

“You and Alastor are mistaken.  Be wary of Phaidon.  Oh, he seems respectable, but his hand will rise your chiton at the first opportunity,” Hermokrates said.

“Do not speak ill of my erastes.  The opportunity has already occurred and he made no move at all.”

“He will, soon.  He will take what he wants and you will be sorry you did not listen to me.”

“I love you, Hermokrates, and I thank you for your concern, but it is badly placed.”

“I will say no more, but beware him.”

“I am always careful,” I said.

“The one to beware of is Doros,” Timon said.

“Yes, and Alexandros,” I added.

“Alexandros?” Hermokrates asked.

I told my friends about the commission and about the way Alexandros gazed at me.

“Beware of him, too, for certain,” Hermokrates said.

“You suspect everyone of wanting to take the virtue of Nikias,” Hyperion said.

“Do you want him to be used like Kleitos was?” Hermokrates asked angrily.

“Of course not, but Nikias is not foolish enough to wander at night.”

“Such things can happen at other times.”

“You worry too much, Hermokrates,” I said.

“Yes, and it does no good to worry about all the bad things that could happen,” Timon said.

Hermokrates said no more, but seemed edgy.

“Who is hungry?  I am buying.  “Let us get pies,” I said.

“What has brought on this largess?” Timon asked.

“I am in a good mood.”

My friends followed me to a shop that sold the most delicious pies.  They were small enough to hold in the hand, the crust was flaky and the inside filled with vegetables and fish in a thick gravy.  I purchased some for all of us.  They all thanked me and we wandered around the agora while we ate.

“Ugh.  There is Doros,” Timon said.

“Leering at us,” Hermokrates said.

“Why doesn’t he just go to a brothel or buy himself a slave boy?” I asked.

“I pity the slave boy if he does purchase one.  If Plataea is ever defeated, I will die in battle before I will become a slave,” Hermokrates said.

Doros drew closer as we walked among the stalls, gazing at items that were mostly not sold in more permanent shops—vegetables from outlying farms, fleeces, cloth, cheap disposable pottery, various foods and more.

I grew nervous as Doros followed us.  I did not mind being admired, but he leered as if thinking of all the things he’d like to do to me and the others.  He closed in, cut in front of us and stopped.

“Might I have a word with you, Nikias?” he asked.

“You most certainly may not, go away,” Hermokrates said.

“I was not talking to you.  I have a proposal for you, Nikias.”

“I am not interested.”

“You have not heard it.”

“He said he was not interested.  Be off!” said a stern voice, a man’s voice I recognized, but did not love.

We all turned and there stood Alexandros.

“This is no business of yours,” Doros said.

“I have an interest in this boy.”  Alexandros paused and looked me over, then smiled slightly.  I did not like his gaze.  “He is creating a magnificent work of art for me.”

“I still do not see…”

“Leave him alone, Doros.  Quit embarrassing yourself.  You are too old to take an eromenos and these are not whores you may hire.  There is a brothel two streets over where you can purchase what you desire.”

Doros sneered, but departed.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anything for you, Nikias,” Alexandros said and then departed himself.

Perhaps I was wrong about him.  When he gazed at me, I thought he was taking my chiton off with his eyes, but then he mentioned the krater I was making for him.  Perhaps that was his only interest in me.

“Alexandros acts like a suitor himself,” Hyperion said.

“You could do worse,” Timon said.

“I already have better.”

“The high and mighty has spoken,” Hermokrates said.  I shoved him with my shoulder.

“You know I do not think so highly of myself,” I said.

“Yes, but I enjoy teasing you.”

“I actually cannot believe Phaidon chose me.”

“You did place in the games and are a runner like him,” Hyperion said.

“There was also a feast in your honor.  I keep waiting for my feast,” Timon said.

“You will still be waiting when you die,” Hermokrates said.  “Nikias is worthy of Phaidon, and better, without any of that.”

“You are too young to be his suitor, Hermokrates and he is taken,” Hyperion said.

“Your wit is as sharp as a river rock.”

Hyperion stuck out his tongue.

We continued in this way until first Timon, then Hyperion and finally I had to depart.

“I will walk you home in case Doros is lurking,” Hermokrates said.

“So, you will protect me from him, but who will protect you?” I asked.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Better than I can, to be certain, but Phaidon will teach me to fight soon.  I know some, but have much more to learn.”

Hermokrates frowned at the mention of Phaidon.

It was not long before we were at the door of the shop.

“Be wary on your way.  Doros may be lurking,” I said.

“He will regret bothering me if he dares to do so.”

I had no doubt of that.  Hermokrates was only a year older than me, but he had the body of a young man, not a boy.

We nodded to each other and I went inside.

***

Alexandros stood near me in the shop.  He had come to inspect the krater he had ordered.  It was the largest piece I had ever created.  It took the longest to fashion and the painting took longer still.  I made my best effort with this piece, although I did so with every piece.  We refused to sell anything we could not be proud of.  If a piece was disappointing when finished, which was very rare indeed, we either used it ourselves or destroyed it.

Alexandros put his hand upon my shoulder, which made me uncomfortable, but hadn’t he driven away Doros when he was bothering my friends and me?

“This is excellent.  I had high expectations and you have exceeded them, Nikias.  No offense to your brother, but I believe you have excelled him.  I could not find a better krater in Athens.  The painting shows real passion, you can almost feel Zeus taking Ganymede.”

As Alexandros said this, he moved his hand from my shoulder, slid it over my back and cupped my right buttock.  When I tried to move away he held me in place, then ran his hand up under my chiton, squeezed my buttock again, then slid his hand around to my front and fondled my phallus.

“You would make an excellent Ganymede,” he said, indicating the painting of the boy being penetrated by Zeus.

I struggled, but could not get away.  Just when I was thinking about calling out for Alastor or Draco, my brother entered and Alexandros released me.

“I was just telling Nikias how pleased I am with the krater.  I am eager to get it home,” Alexandros said.

He left me and walked over to pay my brother.  He then instructed his slave, a boy somewhat older than me, to take the krater.

“I am sure I will see you again, Nikias, but I must say again how I admire your skills.  I am sure you are equally accomplished at other things.”

I wanted to spit on him, but I controlled myself and held my tongue.

Alastor was pleased with the sale and so was I, but I was not at all pleased about what had happened.  I was not a whore or a slave boy Alexandros could fondle and grope at his pleasure and yet he’d done it, right here in our own shop.  I said nothing about it to my brother.  It was over.

I thought about it much after he departed.  I wished I had been strong enough to escape him.  Perhaps I should have struck him, but I had a feeling such an attempt would not have been successful.  His slave had stood and observed, but said nothing, of course.  I wondered what Alexandros did to him.  Most treated their slaves well.  We considered Draco family, but some were not so kind.

Alexandros was not what he seemed.  There was an unsavory aspect to him that was well hidden.  True, he had a reputation for getting what he wanted, but with his wealth that was not difficult.  I did not trust him.  He’d shown me his true nature.  I would keep my distance from him now.  I was glad our business with him was at an end, but was it?

I put it out of my mind and returned to painting the cups I was working on before Alexandros entered.  Painting the small but detailed figures helped me put the unpleasant experience out of my mind.  My work took concentration and skill.  Sometimes, I almost felt as if I was inside the scenes I painted.  At present, I was creating a scene of a small group of boys throwing the javelin.  They were not just any boys, but my friends and me.  There was one to represent each of us and I can immodestly say that each of my friends could have picked himself out.

I soon began to feel better and by the time I’d finished my work for the day I was no longer upset.

I left the shop after we closed and sought out my friends.  I found Hyperion and Timon eyeing slave girls who were dipping water from the town fountain.  I walked up behind them and put a hand on their shoulders, making them jump.

“See anything you like?” I asked.

“Do I?” Timon said with longing in his voice.

“I wish I was rich enough to buy myself a slave girl,” Hyperion said.

“I’m sure your father would approve of that,” I said.

“My father approves of nothing.”

“I need to work off some aggression,” Hyperion said.

“Is that what you call excess lust?” Timon said.

“Currently, yes.  Let’s go to the gymnasium.  I want to wrestle.”

“In your state I am not sure it would be safe to wrestle you,” Timon said.

“I can say the same for you.”

They both laughed.  I did not.

“What’s wrong, Nikias?” Hyperion asked.

“Something is wrong?” Hermokrates asked as he walked up to us.

“Yes, I made a wonderfully witty comment and Nikias did not laugh so his thoughts must be disturbed.”

“Your witty comments often lack wit,” Hermokrates said with a grin.

“Oh, aren’t you comedic?”

“Is something wrong, Nikias?” Hermokrates asked me.

I shook my head and began walking toward the gymnasium without waiting for the others to follow.  They soon caught up to me.

“Tell us, Nikias.  I can tell something troubles you,” Hyperion said.

“It’s Alexandros.”

“Did he not like the krater you made for him?  If he didn’t, he is a fool with poor taste.”

“No, it’s not that.  The designs he requested were suggestive.”

“Suggestive?” Timon asked.

I told them about the figures Alexandros wanted painted on the krater and about his comments to me as he looked at them.

“That is improper, but you shouldn’t let it upset you so,” Hyperion said.

“He also… touched me.”

I told my friends how Alexandros had groped my buttocks and my phallus while he kept me from escaping.  The faces of Timon and Hyperion darkened, but Hermokrates’ features were a mask of fury.

“He should be taught a lesson.  Perhaps with a dagger in the side,” Hermokrates spat.

“He should not have done what he did, but I don’t believe he deserves to die for it,” Hyperion said.

“I do.”

“Why does it upset you so, Hermokrates?  Are you jealous that Alexandros got a feel and you did not?” Timon asked.

“Shut up or I will shut you up!” Hermokrates shouted with his fists clenched.

Timon’s face blanched and he dashed behind Hyperion.

“He meant nothing of it.  He was merely being Timon,” Hyperion said.

Hermokrates blushed when he gazed at me.  I saw something in his eyes.  Did he fancy me?  We were close, but… I didn’t think he had feelings for me.  I didn’t think he was drawn to my body.  I was nothing compared to him.

“I could do without Timon being Timon for a while.”

“I am sorry.  My mouth sometimes speaks before I think,” Timon said.

“Let us speak of it no more, but beware of Alexandros, Nikias.  He is known for getting what he wants and he obviously fancies you.  I don’t think you should go anywhere alone.”

“I don’t think he’s as dangerous as all that.  He was toying with me and demonstrating his power, nothing more.”

“Even if that is all, it’s bad enough.  Where was your brother during this?”

“He was out of the shop.  Alexandros stepped away when he entered.”

“You should have told him.”

“No.  I don’t wish to cause trouble.  It’s over.  Let’s talk of something else.”

“I’d like to talk about a trip to a brothel,” Hyperion said.

“You are too young and too devoid of wealth,” Hermokrates said.

“I know.  I said I’d like to talk about it, not that I expect to go.”

“What has brought up these thoughts of a brothel?” Hermokrates asked.

“A stiff phallus,” Timon said.

“They were ogling slave girls,” I said.

“It is no use to tormenting yourself with that which you cannot have,” Hermokrates said.

“I like tormenting myself,” Timon said.

“How about your family’s slaves?” I asked mischievously.

“Ugh.  They are too old and too mean!” Timon said.

“Ours would tell my mother,” Hyperion said.

Hermokrates and I laughed.

“Why do you laugh?  You have needs as well,” Hyperion said.

“Perhaps Nikias has already given himself to Phaidon,” Timon said.

“I have not, but he has attempted to kiss me, more than once.”

“Tell us about it,” Timon said.

“No.  Do not,” Hermokrates said, his ill humor returning.  Timon wisely kept his mouth shut this time.

We soon reached the gymnasium and undressed.  Hyperion and Timon were a bit stiff.  I smiled to myself, but said nothing.

“Will you wrestle with me?” Hyperion asked me.  Again, Timon wisely kept his mouth shut.  I didn’t think he could continue to do so for long.

“As long as you promise not to cry when you lose,” I said.

“Lose!  Not likely!”

It was true.  I was the smallest and weakest of my companions, which is not to say I was small or weak, but I did not quite measure up to the others, especially Hermokrates.  He was the largest and strongest of us all.

“That leaves us then,” Hermokrates said to Timon.

“Are you still angry with me?  I do not wish to be pummeled.”

“I am no longer angry and excuse your stupidity.  Besides, we are wrestling, not boxing.”

“Yes, but you could still hurt me.”

“If I was going to do so, I would have already, or, do you simply lack courage?”  Hermokrates smiled slightly.  He enjoyed baiting Timon.

“I have enough courage for one twice my size!”

“Come then.”

We walked out in the large courtyard, paired off and began to wrestle.  Earlier, I had imagined myself throwing the javelin with my friends.  Now, I was here wrestling with them.

Hyperion was a fierce opponent, but I was fast.  I would not make victory easy for him.  I darted in and attempted to throw him, but he knew my tricks.  He evaded me and too soon had me in his arms.  I struggled but he forced me to the ground and before long I was on my back, unable to move.

“So, you win this time, Hyperion.”

“Don’t I win every time we wrestle?” he asked mischievously.

“I prefer not to think of that.  Perhaps you would like to race me.”

“You wrestled with me, so I will race with you.”

I grinned.

“Come everyone!  I am racing, Nikias.  You can watch me defeat the boy who won prizes at Corinth,” Hyperion announced to our friends.

“Only if the gods help you or hold back Nikias,” Hermokrates said.  “You cannot even beat me.”

“Join us then and we’ll see.  You too, Timon.”

“Only if you promise not to cry when I pass you.”

“You are dreaming yet again, Slow foot.”

The four of us lined up on the track that encircled the courtyard of the gymnasium.  Other boys quickly gathered to watch and one volunteered to start us.

“How far shall we race?” I asked.

“Once around,” Hyperion said.

I nodded.

Our starter raised his hand in the air, then quickly brought it down.  The four of us took off.  At first, we were more or less even, but I accelerated as we began the first turn, quickly leaving my friends behind.  The distance was short so I sprinted and did not look back.  Very soon, our starting point came into view and I crossed the finish line.  When I looked back, Hermokrates was barely half way around the track.  Hyperion trailed him and Timon was well back from him.

Hermokrates crossed the finish line.  Many moments later Hyperion did, too, and finally Timon.

“You are even faster than I remembered!” Hyperion said.  “I was boasting about beating you for fun, but I didn’t think you would trounce me quite so badly.”

“Remember your victory over me in wrestling and it will make you feel better,” I said.

“I do not think this is Nikias at all.  I think it is Achilles disguised,” Hermokrates said.

I blushed.  “I am not that fast.  You should have seen the boy who won all the races.  Alkides runs as if he is Apollo come to earth.”

“Maybe so, but he is not Apollo and if he is at the Pythian games, you will beat him!” Hermokrates said.

“I will most certainly try.”

We moved onto the javelin next and it was as if I was inside the scene I had painted earlier.  I was not so good at other things as I was running, but I did my best and was not upset I could not excel at everything.  Instead, I was thankful I could run both far and fast.

Chapter Seven

“Hold it like this.  You will find it easier,” Phaidon said, as he adjusted my hold on the kithara.  “Now, try again.”

I did so.

“That is better.”

We sat in the courtyard, a small open space surrounded by our shop, kitchen, workshop and living quarters.  Here it was quieter, although the streets were nearby.

Phaidon gestured and I continued to play.  Until now, I’d had no instruction.  I had discovered my mother’s kithara in a chest and Alastor had allowed me to play with it if I was careful.  When I actually began to mimic songs I’d heard, he told me to keep it for my own because he did not know how to play.

“That is beautiful.  I have not heard it before,” Phaidon said when I finished playing my song.

“I made it up after I heard the story of Apollo killing the Python.  There are words.”

“Please, sing it for me then.”

I had sung previously only for Alastor and Draco, and not specifically for them.  They were merely near while I worked on songs.  I was anxious about having an actual audience, even if it was an audience of one, but I did as Phaidon asked.

I played the song again and this time I sang.  The song was not about the actual killing of the phyton, but was instead about the wild creatures that came to Apollo to thank him for ridding Delphi of the monster.  Birds lit upon his shoulders and sang to him.  Wild things nuzzled him and even brought him gifts of fruit and flowers.  It was not at all a battle song, but a song of peace and contentment.

“That is beautiful and your voice is more beautiful still.  I almost cannot believe you are capable of creating something so wondrous at your age, but I do believe.”

I smiled and looked down shyly.  Phaidon reached over, grasped my chin and pulled my face up to look into my eyes.

“You must practice your singing and playing as much as your running, beautiful Nikias.”

He did it then.  He moved in to kiss me, but I demurely turned away before gazing back at him again and smiling.  He nodded in approval, but oh how I wanted him to kiss me and do so much more!  My heart raced as if I had run far and fast.

We continued.  Phaidon advised me on my posture when playing, my fingering of the strings and how to sing without straining my voice.  He was not known for his musical abilities as he was his athletic abilities, but he certainly possessed them.  He was the kind of man I aspired to be.

We kept at it until my fingers were tired.  Phaidon departed to attend to business of his own.  I returned to the shop to work on my current project, a krater as large as that requested by Alexandros, but featuring the oracle of Delphi and Apollo slaying the phyton.  I had it formed now and was working on refinements.  Soon, I could begin to paint.

***

I ran in the mornings with Phaidon, then returned to the shop to work, ran again in the afternoon when sensible people remained indoors, returned to work again, ate and then often ran yet again whether accompanied by Phaidon or not and finally practiced playing the kithara while I sang, again with or without my erastes, but most often with him.

One day flowed into another.  I still went to the gymnasium with my friends, but not as often, which displeased Hermokrates greatly, but there was not enough time in my day.

Phaidon had attempted to kiss me thrice more and each time I turned away was harder than the last.  The truth was that I wanted to him to not only kiss me, but ravish me.  I no longer felt guilty about that.  Such desires were natural for a boy.  It was no dishonor to have them.  I would only have dishonored myself if I’d given in too easily and I had not.

I had already determined that I would not turn away the next time Phaidon attempted to kiss me.  I would let him.  Once that decision had been made, the agonizing wait began.  The wait was not actually that long, but it seemed as if the sun stood still instead of moving across the sky.

The kiss happened in our courtyard, after I had played and sang for Phaidon.  He sat beside me, took my hands in his and leaned in toward me.  Instead of turning my head, I gazed into his eyes as he closed the distance between us.  He kissed me lightly, then a little more forcefully before pulling away.  He then smiled at me and mussed my hair.

I breathed harder than I should have done, but the kiss had set my body on fire.  My phallus raged to escape from beneath my chiton.  I felt like a wild beast and it was all I could do to keep myself from leaping upon Phaidon, but I controlled myself and for that I was proud.

“I am very pleased that I chose you and that you accepted,” Phaidon said.

I gave him a quizzical look.  Did he mean because I had allowed him to kiss me?

“You may not be aware, but you are becoming a better runner and you are keeping me from losing my skills through disuse.  You are improving on the kithara and your singing cannot be improved.  You deport yourself as a respectable boy and I am proud to be seen with you.  You also face the hardships I place before you with determination and without complaint.  I know how difficult it is to run as we do in the heat of the day.  It takes strength, determination, a measure of courage and a great tolerance for discomfort.  It is not easy for me and I know it is less so for you.  For all this, I am proud of you.”

I smiled, feeling as if a laurel wreath had just been placed upon my head.

“I am very pleased you chose me and feel very lucky,” I said.

“I have something for you.  Just a moment.”

Phaidon left me in the courtyard and walked into the shop.  He returned carrying a large leather pouch with a drawstring.  He handed it to me.

“Open it.”

I did so and pulled out a fine bronze strigil, etched on both sides with a scene of runners competing and of an athlete receiving his crown.

“Oh, Phaidon.  This is far too fine a gift.”

The usual gift for an erastes to give his eromenos was a sprig of flowers, a rabbit or a fighting cock.  This gift was far beyond that.

“No, it is not.  It can be a reminder both of what you are working toward and what you have already accomplished.”

“I will think of you every time I use it.  I... think of you often now.”

Phaidon cupped my jaw and smiled at me.  I thought he might kiss me again, but he did not.  Instead, he stood and bid me ‘goodnight.’

I sighed when he had departed.  I felt diminished when he was not near and my heart yearned for him.  I had developed feelings beyond admiration and friendship for Phaidon.  I loved him.

I soon went to bed.  My days were too full and my body and mind were tired.  Even so, I did not fall asleep at once.  Instead, I thought about the kiss I shared with Phaidon and hoped for many more.

***

I slowed to a walk as I entered Plataea.  I had just run the furthest I ever had.  I began with my usual long run, but lengthened it by taking a trail further up into the foothills that added at least a third to the distance.  I usually ran all the way to my own door, but it was beyond me.  My breath came too fast, my legs threatened to cramp and my heart pounded like never before.  Phaidon had encouraged me to push my limits, but had also warned me not to push myself too far.

I wished Phaidon was with me as I spotted Alexandros.  He noticed me at nearly the same moment I did him, or I would have hidden.  He smiled and approached as if we were the best of friends.  I was uneasy, but we were on one of the busiest streets in Plataea and there were plenty of others near going about their business.

“Does the sight of me make you breathe so hard, Nikias?”

“I have just run many leagues,” I said, not too kindly.

“It will be our secret then.”

I glared.

“Do not be angry with me.  Come with me, I am having a celebration tonight and much of the food is already prepared.  There are cakes made with honey I am sure you would love.”

“I must decline.”

“I insist.”

“My brother is expecting me home.”

“You need not stay long and I will make it well worth your time,” Alexandros said.

I wanted to spit on him.  He actually thought he could purchase me?  I knew what he wanted and he would never have it.

“I always get what I want, Nikias,” he said as if he could read my mind.

“Not where I am concerned,” I said and pushed past him.  It was rude, but he didn’t deserve courtesy.  I could feel him staring at me as I departed and it made me uneasy.

That was not my last encounter with Alexandros and I was not at all surprised.  He was painfully persistent.  He came to the shop and he lingered outside the gymnasium.  I was sure he would have entered if it was not forbidden for adults, other than trainers, to come in during the time set aside for boys.  The penalty for doing so was death, which seemed rather extreme, but was so much a deterrent I had never heard of any man killed for violating the law.  I would have wondered why such a law existed, but since Alexandros had begun to harass me, I understood.  I happened upon Alexandros too often for coincidence.  For that reason, I ventured out alone only when absolutely necessary.  I did not feel safe in my own town.

Chapter Eight

Phaidon was late for our afternoon run.  He had told me if he was ever late to go on without him, but I waited until Helios traveled a bit further across the sky hoping he would arrive.  I was most happy when my erastes was by my side.

When he still did not come, I set out on my own.  I wore only my loin-cloth because the heat was fierce.  I was not even out of sight of my own door when I began to sweat.  No one was out at this time of day.  Those with good sense were inside now.  Only the foolish and a boy like me who wished to push himself was out in the heat.

I ran through the empty streets and was nearly out of town when a form stepped out in front of me with so little warning we collided.  I smiled for a moment, thinking it was Phaidon surprising me, but my smile faded when I saw it was Alexandros.  I pushed away from him, but he grabbed my wrists and held me tight.  I struggled but he was much larger than me.  I squirmed in his grasp, but soon he had me from behind with his arm around my throat.  I began to scream, but he clapped his hand over my mouth and dragged me into an alley.

I continued to fight him as his hands roved over my body and pushed down my loincloth.  I could feel his hot breath on my neck, even hotter than the heat of the day.

“I always get what I want,” he breathed into my ear.

I continued to struggle as I felt his hard phallus forcing its way between my buttocks.  I tried to cry out as he pushed against me, trying to penetrate me.  Searing pain assailed me as he continued to force his way inside me.  I bit his hand even though I knew I would pay for it.

Alexandros released me as the pain hit him.  He backhanded me and I fell.  I scrambled backwards on hands and legs and screamed, “PHAIDON!” at the top of my lungs as Alexandros came for me.  I tried to scramble to my feet so I could run, but he was on me before I had a chance.  He grabbed me again.

“PHAI…” I began to scream.

Alexandros backhanded me again, then clamped his hand over my mouth once more, even as he forced me onto my stomach.  I fought him, but soon I felt him press against me.  I tried to bite his hand, but his grip was now so tight I could not.  Alexandros struggled to get his phallus inside me as I squirmed, trying to prevent him from doing so.  I braced myself for more searing pain, but suddenly the weight of Alexandros disappeared and I heard a loud grunt.

When I turned so that I could see, Phaidon stood over Alexandros, who was doubled over in pain.  Three other men had been drawn by my scream and stood at the alley entrance.  Alexandros drew his dagger and rushed at Phaidon.  They struggled to control the knife and then Phaidon twisted Alexandros’s arm inward and the dagger sank into Alexandros’s chest.  He cried out and fell into the dust, his blank eyes staring at nothing.

“Nikias!  Are you hurt Nikias?” Phaidon said, rushing to me.

I began to cry then, unmanly as it was.  Phaidon held me as others gathered in the opening of the alley.  I fought to get myself under control and soon managed it.

“I am okay, now.  He tried to…”

“I know.”

Phaidon helped me stand then bid me wait for a moment.  He walked over to Alexandros’s corpse, grabbed him by the feet and pulled him out into the street where all could see him.  One of the men who had been drawn by my screams, spit on the dead body.

“Come.  I will take you home,” Phaidon said.

I wiped my eyes and walked out of the alley with my erastes.  A larger crowd had gathered now.  Even the afternoon heat could not keep the curious away as word spread that Phaidon had slain Alexandros for assaulting me.

Alastor and Draco came running toward us even before we could make it home.  Rumor spread faster than the wind in Plataea.

“He is not badly hurt,” Phaidon said.

My brother grabbed me and hugged me to him.  Draco placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

“What happened?”

“Alexandros tried to rape me.  He nearly succeeded, but I fought him, screamed for Phaidon and Phaidon rescued me,” I said, smiling at my erastes.

Alastor gripped Phaidon by the forearm and struggled to speak, but he was too choked up at the moment.

“There is no need for words.  It is over and Alexandros will never hurt anyone again.”

“Do you think his family…” Alastor began when he could get his voice to work.

“No.  Witnesses saw him in the act.  It was my right to kill him for his offense.  He has shamed his family.  They will wish this forgotten as soon as possible.”

The three most important people in my life took me home.  Once there, my brother gave me wine and Draco prepared a small feast for Phaidon.

We did not run that evening because my rear was sore from the assault.  Instead, Phaidon and I sat in the courtyard when the air had cooled and played the kithara.  Phaidon surprised me by singing to me.  It was a song about nothing in particular.  The words were about cool streams, flowers and shady glades.  The music itself was like flowing water, tranquil and restful.

“Tomorrow, I want you to hold your head high and feel no shame,” Phaidon said when he finished his song.  “Everyone will know what happened to you, but they will not look down upon you for it.  Alexandros committed a vile act upon a free boy.  All the shame for that act falls upon him, not you.  I know without asking you fought him, but a boy does not stand a chance against a man, which makes what he did all the more deplorable.  You are my eromenos and I am proud for all to know it.”

“Thank you, Phaidon.  I am even more proud for all to know you are my erastes.  Thank you for saving me.  Your name came to my lips without thinking when I was able to scream for help.  I knew that if anyone would come, it would be you.  Had I thought about it, I would have known it was unlikely you would hear me, but I would have called for you regardless.”

“I think the gods were looking out for us today.  They made sure I was near.”

“I wish rather they would have kept him from assaulting me.”

“Yes, but think of this.  Alexandros is no more.  He can never hurt you again, but he can also never again hurt another.  Perhaps, your ordeal was designed by the gods to put an end to his evil forever.”

“You think he did to others what he tried to do to me?”

“There were rumors and I think it highly likely.”

“If that is what the gods had in mind, then I am glad it happened,” I said.

Phaidon leaned in and kissed me lightly.  His kisses were so different from the forced kisses of Alexandros.  Phaidon was an honorable man.  He would never do what Alexandros had done.  In time, I would give to Phaidon all that Alexandros had tried to take by force and Phaidon would not mind waiting.

I went to bed early.  For a few moments, I trembled in fright, remembering what had happened, but then I reminded myself that Alexandros was dead.  He could never again take liberties with my body.  He could never again try to rape me.

Alexandros had managed to penetrate me, but only barely.  It was a violation for which he paid with his life, but it was not nearly so bad as what might have been.  The pain was intense and even now my ass was sore, but it would have been so much worse if Phaidon had not saved me.  I was glad Alexandros had failed.  Phaidon had told me to feel no shame and keep my head high.  That would be no easy task for me, but it would be so much easier than it would have been if Alexandros had succeeded in penetrating me all the way and had filled me with his seed.  I am not sure I could have lived with that.

Phaidon arrived the next morning for our run as if nothing had happened.  My ass was terribly sore when we began to run, but became less so as we exercised.  The few that were about at the early hour when Helios had not quite appeared on the horizon watched us pass.  I felt pride rather than shame because my erastes was with me.

We ran faster now than we had before, and further as well.  Phaidon challenged me in ways I could not challenge myself.  I was driven to greater effort because I wanted to please and impress him.  That kept me going when I wanted to slow or stop.  I had become more because of him.

***

Fear edged in upon me as I neared the gymnasium.  This was the first time I would see my friends since Alexandros had assaulted me.  Would they think less of me because of what he’d done to me?  I knew they would not be cruel, but what might they think of me now?

I struggled to calm myself as I disrobed in the changing room.  Once nude, I took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm myself.  I had held my head high since the attack with less difficulty than I had imagined, but now I trembled slightly.

I forced myself to walk out into the courtyard where my friends no doubt awaited me.  I spotted them and immediately felt trepidation as they ceased their conversation and turned toward me.  Had they been talking about me?

The steps I took toward them were the hardest I had taken, but as I neared, Hermokrates quickly closed the distance.  He first took me by the hands and then hugged me tightly.

“Thank the gods you are safe,” he said.  “I love you, Nikias.”

When he stood back, I could see tears in his eyes, something I could not recall seeing before.

Timon came to me next, then Hyperion.  They too hugged me tightly as if afraid I might slip away.

“Are you well?” Hermokrates asked.

“Yes, I am well.  Thanks to Phaidon.”

“I will admit something to you now, Nikias, in front of the others.  I was jealous of Phaidon.  I wanted you for myself.”

My mouth opened slightly.  Hermokrates envied Phaidon?  He had such feelings for me?

“I was jealous, but I am no more.  I thank the gods for him and I am glad he is your erastes.”

“Tell him your news, Hermokrates,” Timon said.

“I have accepted an erastes myself.”

“Who?” I asked, filled with interest.

“Doros,” Hyperion said.

“Your humor is as small as your wit, Hyperion,” Hermokrates said, but smiled.  “Kallias is my erastes.”

“He is so handsome.  They say he killed a wild boar with his bare hands when it attacked him,” Timon said.

“I don’t know about that, but he is an accomplished fighter.  My father is very pleased that Kallias wished me to be his eromenos.”

“That only leaves us, then, Timon,” Hyperion said.

“There are plenty of men who have eyes for you,” Timon said.

“I have seen Taras follow you with his eyes.”

“You have?”

“If you were more observant, you would notice he often appears when you are near,” Hermokrates said.

“Our friend is not known for being observant,” I said.

“Stick to running, Nikias.  Leave wit to others, but you are to better at it than Hyperion,” Timon said.

I wrinkled my nose and glared at him.

“You are too pretty to be intimidating,” Timon said.

“Phaidon has begun to train me how to fight.  I can show you intimidating if you wish,” I said.

“I think I shall pass on your kind offer.”

“That is wise.  You know how quickly Nikias moves,” Hyperion said.

Only the soreness in my butt reminded me of the too recent assault.  My friends did not mention it and by that let me know nothing was changed between us.  I should have known it would be so.  I had known them all since we were young boys.

We wrestled, raced, practiced with the javelin and the discus.  I never did well with the discus.  It was too heavy for me.  Among us, only Hermokrates could throw it well, but he encouraged us, reminding us of his own failures during his first efforts, back when the rest of us could not even lift it.

This was what I had feared losing, the easy friendship with the boys I loved.  I was afraid Alexandros had taken that from me when he violated me.  I feared not the derision of my friends, but their pity and private disgust.  Instead, only their concern was evident.  Nothing had changed between us.

The time to leave came too soon.  We cleaned ourselves with olive oil and then dressed once more.  We walked together at first, but soon it was only Hermokrates and me.

“I am glad you have an erastes, but I am also a little jealous, too,” I said.

Hermokrates turned to me with a slight smile upon his lips.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You admitted that you wanted me for yourself, so I want you to know that I have always admired you and long desired you.  I am flattered that you, with your beautiful face and strong body, was jealous of my erastes.”

“If we had been more open with each other, we could have had fun together.”

“We have had fun together.” Hermokrates began to open his mouth, but I put my finger to his lips.  “I know what you mean, but I mean what I say.  We have had fun.  When it comes to sex, don’t you think it best to have an older, experienced lover, instead of two boys fumbling in ignorance?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I rather like the idea of two boys fumbling and discovering pleasures for themselves.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, and you are probably right, as usual.  Nikias…  Will you be okay?  I mean, I hope that your experience with Alexandros has not ruined sex for you.”

“That was not sex.  It was violence.  Do you know he tried to buy me as if I was a whore?  When I refused him, he became angry and accused me of haughtiness, as if I was the one who had done wrong, as if I should have been glad of the opportunity to be abused by him.”

“I am glad Phaidon killed him.  He deserved to die.  It is safer for us all now that he is gone.  Someone like him, that takes it as his right to seize what he desires, is a danger to all.”

“I wonder what made him so.  I would never do what he did.  I do not think I have the right to take whatever I want,” I said.

“Too many drachmas and too much privilege.  Kallias says that when one has too much, one can begin to think they are on a level with the gods.  When that happens, their doom is near.”

“I am glad Kallias is your erastes.  He’s very skilled with weapons I hear and above all else I want you to be safe.”

“So, you think war will come?”

“Phaidon says it always comes.  Peace is nothing more than a rest between battles.  I do not want you to die and so I am glad you have such a skilled trainer.  He is rather handsome and fit, too.”

Hermokrates bumped into me with his shoulder.

“Is it hard to resist when Phaidon makes a move on you?”

“Very hard.”

“I wasn’t talking about your phallus.”

“Ha.  That is hard too, but resisting the temptation to submit was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  When he tried to kiss me, I wanted it so badly I felt like flinging myself upon him.  It was difficult, but I did resist until the time felt right to allow it.”

“So, I have a hard road ahead of me.”

“Yes, in both senses.”

Hermokrates laughed.  “I am glad we are friends.”

“Me too, and we always shall be.”

We parted then.  Hermokrates turned down the street toward his home and I continued on.  I had lost sleep worrying about how my friends would treat me, but the anxiety turned out to be the worst of it.  It was often so.

***

“Stop holding back.  Come at me as if I am an enemy who intends to kill you,” Phaidon said as we stood in the gymnasium.  It was not the time reserved for youths, so men and boys of all ages exercised in the large open courtyard, surrounded by the track.

“I don’t want to harm you.”

“I can take a few bruises, Nikias, and any cut will heal.  If you are not going to take this seriously, there is no point in teaching you.”

I winced under his rebuke, but said nothing.

“Now, again.”

I put the fear of harming my erastes out of my mind and lunged at him without warning.  The sword in my hand was not sharpened, but it could still harm or even kill.  Phaidon deflected my stroke and came back at me so fiercely that I had time to think of nothing besides trying to defend myself.  I knew it was not so, but it seemed as if he was trying to kill me.

I managed to keep his blade from me, but felt humiliated when I ended up on my ass.  Even then, I kept my blade up, but Phaidon ceased his attack.

“Much better.”

“Even considering where I ended up?” I asked as he gave me a hand up.

“In a battle, you may lose your footing or you may be knocked to the ground.  That is to be avoided if at all possible, but sometimes it is not.  You did not sit on your ass waiting to be killed.  Your mind was still on defense.”

“I would still likely have been killed if this was a real battle.”

“Yes, likely, but not with certainty.  Never give up.”

I nodded.

Phaidon attacked and I met his blade.  I attempted to get under it as he had taught me, but he was ready for me.  I used my speed to attempt to attack his right flank, but he was fast, too.  I came at him again and again, but my blade came nowhere near his flesh.  I was frustrated, but pushed the emotion aside.  Distraction could equal death in a battle, that is something else Phaidon had taught me.

“You use your assets well,” Phaidon said.

“Yes, but my main asset is speed, which will be of little use in a battle line.”

“It will aid you even then.  Your stabs and strikes are swift.  Battle lines are often broken and when that happens, chaos is the result.  Your speed may save you then.”

“I will not run,” I said with more than a touch of anger.

“I am not calling you a coward, Nikias.  I did not mean you would save yourself by running away.  I meant that your quick movements will work to your advantage.  Most warriors grow too accustomed to fighting shoulder to shoulder with their comrades.  They are not prepared for an opponent who will come at them from many directions.  You are not easy to defend against even now.”

“I’m not?”

“No, but you have much to learn, so do not get full of yourself.”

“I will not, Phaidon,” I said with a grin.

“I know you will not,” he said, mussing my hair.

We trained long and then went into the changing room.  There, I eyed Phaidon’s naked form as he cleaned himself with oil and his strigil.  Everything about him was so much more than me.  Everything was larger.  This was what I would become?  I wish I could do so now, but then I will miss out on being an eromenos.

Phaidon noticed me looking and smiled at me.  After he put his strigil away, he grasped my chin and kissed me.  He then ran his hand down over my chest.

“You are growing stronger already,” he said.

“Yes, but I wish to be as strong as you.”

I reached out to touch his chest and he allowed it.  I ran my fingers over the hard muscle beneath soft skin.  My phallus became fully erect, but I was not self-conscious.  I was with my erastes.

“Come, let us dress and then get something to eat,” Phaidon said.

I nodded and followed him to the open bins where we had left our clothing.  I was sorry to see Phaidon’s hard, muscled body covered.  I almost could not believe that someday I might look like that.

Once we had dressed, we departed from the gymnasium and stepped out into the streets of Plataea.  I felt not a trace of shame now.  Phaidon was right.  The shame fell entirely upon Alexandros.  I was but a boy of twelve and could not be expected to have the strength to fight off a full-grown man.  Alexandros had lost his life and forever ruined his name in Plataea.  I walked proudly by the side of my erastes.

Phaidon took me somewhere I did not frequent, an establishment that sold food and drink.  I was accustomed to eating all meals at home.  Some such establishments had vile reputations where the emphasis was on drink and whores, but Phaidon took me to a place known for its wonderful food, a place where drink was a mere compliment to the food.

I was not quite sure how to act, so I followed the lead of my erastes.  We sat at a finely carved wooden table such as I had never seen before.  Phaidon spoke to the owner while I looked around.  There were few tables, but all were as nice as the one where we sat.  Only a few other diners were present and all were nicely dressed.   I felt a little out of place in my simple chiton, but if I was good enough for Phaidon, I was good enough for anyone.

I expected fish, as food from the sea was brought into Plataea daily, but instead was served meat, which was costly and generally consumed only by the wealthy.  The meat was braised, seasoned and served with vegetables that were familiar to me.

“How do you like it?” Phaidon asked.

“It’s delicious, but it is too extravagant for me.”

“You deserve it and more, but I am glad that you think otherwise.”

“I can run far and fast and my fingers are talented at painting and shaping clay.  I do not see how I deserve any special treatment for these things.  Instead, I am so very grateful.  I find such pleasure in running and creating that I consider myself lucky.”

“Every time you speak, I am reminded that I chose my eromenos well,” Phaidon said.

“I am proud and pleased you chose me.  I did not expect it.”

“I am just a man, Nikias, not a god.”

“I know, but the other boys are jealous of me because you are my erastes.”

“I am flattered.”

We had a fine time eating and talking.  I could see myself spending my life with Phaidon, but things would not remain the same.  Our relationship would change when soft down began to grow upon my chin.  We would still be friends then, like my brother and Akakios, but I would only be his eromenos for a short time.  That was the way of things, but I found myself wishing it was otherwise.

***

Phaidon and I entered a quiet glade, a place unknown to me and yet not far from where we ran so often.  There was soft grass here and a wide pool fed by a spring.  How did I not know of this place?

We drank from the spring itself and then Phaidon stripped off what little clothing he wore for our run.  I followed his lead, then he took my hand and led me into the pool.  The water was cool, but not cold and felt delicious on my bare skin.

We swam.  The pool was large enough to allow it and yet was not too deep.  Phaidon played at splashing me with water as if he was a boy and I wondered if he was reliving a part of his boyhood with me.  Did he miss it?

A little later, Phaidon pulled me to him and kissed me.  I kissed him back.  As I did so, his hands began to rove over my body and my phallus grew fully erect.

Phaidon ran his hands over my buttocks as he pulled me close.  He had done so a few times before.  At first, I had resisted as was expected of an eromenos, but then I had submitted.  Now, he began to work a finger inside me.  I allowed it, both because the time for resisting had passed and because my phallus throbbed with need.

My erastes kissed me more deeply as he worked his finger deeper inside me, then he turned me around so that I faced away from him.  I felt his hard phallus against my buttocks as he guided the head toward my opening.

Memories of Alexandros violating me flashed in my mind and I began to breathe harder in fear.  I remembered the searing pain and the humiliation as he forced himself in.  He had managed to insert only part of the head into me, but that was enough to bring tears to my eyes and shame to my heart.

“Relax, Nikias.  I will go slowly.  It will hurt some at first, but after there will be great pleasure.”

“Yes, Phaidon.”

I trusted my erastes.  He was even stronger than Alexandros.  He could force me to do anything he wanted.  He could do anything he wanted to me.  I knew he would not.  He loved me, as I loved him.  A bond had formed between us and I gave myself to him willingly.

I winced as he began to enter me.  Phaidon pushed the head of his phallus against my opening, but with slow, careful, steady pressure.  He did not try to force himself inside me.  Instead, he sought to ease himself inside.

I cried out as he slipped in.  My breath came fast and hard, but I willed myself to calm.  I grunted as Phaidon slid in deeper.

“The worst is over.  Soon, comes the pleasure.”

I knew he spoke the truth, but it still hurt as he sank in deeper and deeper until I felt impaled upon his phallus.  I felt his testicles press against my buttocks.  He was all the way in.

I winced again as Phaidon pulled nearly out and then pushed himself in again.  It still hurt, but the pain lessened as I grew accustomed to him inside me.  I felt as if we were one.

Slowly, the pain turned to pleasure as Phaidon slid in and out.  I began to moan and groan along with him.  He began to go faster and I pressed back against him, hungry for it.  He began to penetrate me hard and that is what I wanted by then.  We moaned together and then I felt his phallus throb inside me as he released his seed.

My phallus began to throb and then something happened then that had never happened before.  I could feel my phallus shooting my seed into the water as it too throbbed.  A feeling of intense pleasure flashed like lightning through my body and I moaned loudly.

Phaidon held me, still inside me, then he carefully pulled out, turned me around and kissed me once more.

“I shot my seed for the first time while you were in me,” I said.

“I know.  I could feel you release it.  You are growing more mature, which means our time together as erastes and eromenos is slipping through our fingers.”

“I do not want that to happen.”

“I don’t either, Nikias.  This is a special time between us that will not come again.  Someday, when you are older, you will take your own eromenos and teach and enjoy him as I do you.”

“When that time comes, I hope I can be as fine and honorable an erastes as you.”

“You handled this well, Nikias.  You bore the pain through to the pleasure.  It was pleasurable, was it not?”

“Very much so.  The pleasure outweighed the pain.”

I did not say that I wanted to do it again as soon as possible.  That would have been unseemly.  I did not want to do it again at the moment anyway.  Phaidon had been gentle at first, but I was still sore.

“Good.  It is meant to bring pleasure to man and boy.  It is meant to bond us in a way that little else can.”

“I feel more strongly bonded to you now.  When you were inside me, I felt as if we were one.”

“Exactly, Nikias.  You are my first eromenos and I will not take another.  You are so special to me that I want no other, even when you become a man and our relationship transitions to friendship.”

“I want no other either.”

I meant it with all my heart and wished once again that Phaidon and I could be together forever exactly as we were now.

Chapter Nine

“There it is, Nikias.  Delphi,” Alastor said.

We were at the end of a long journey from Plataea.  Just ahead was the town of Delphi itself and above and beyond that, the public buildings.  I could see the Temple of Apollo where the Pythia spoke for Apollo himself.  Beyond that, I could make out the theatre and although I could not see it, I knew the stadium was still further up the steep incline upon which Delphi was built.

I had dreamed of seeing Delphi and now I was here with my brother and Draco, officially representing Plataea in the games.  Others from our home city had come, including Phaidon, who walked with us now.

Alastor led us through the town toward our accommodations, paid for by our home city.  We were told it was an inn, but of much finer quality than most.  My eyes were everywhere as we walked through the streets, passing shops and then homes.  After several minutes, we reached our destination, a rather large square structure made of well-laid stone.  It wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but that could be said of all private buildings, our own home, workshop and shop included.  There were no window openings, of course, and I imagined the rooms opening into an inner courtyard.

We approached a narrow but wide portico where immense wooden doors stood open and entered a receiving area furnished with fine couches and tables that looked too costly to actually use.  The floor and even the walls were marble, a contrast to even the finely cut stone of the exterior.

“Here is where I leave you for a time,” Phaidon said.  “I will seek you out later when I have settled into my own lodgings.  Perhaps we can look over the stadium together.”

“I would like that,” I said.

Phaidon nodded to my brother and departed.  A slave soon approached us and, learning our identity, showed us to our lodgings for our stay in Delphi.

We soon entered a beautiful paved courtyard with a fountain of Apollo in the exact center.  Spaced among the many seating areas were statues of naked youths and lush green and flowering plants.  We walked across the courtyard to a large closed door, which the slave opened for us and then beckoned for us to enter before him.

Inside was a seating area with doors opening off it.  I gawked as the slave spoke with my brother.  I waited until he had departed and closed the door to speak.

“This is all for us?” I asked.

“It is something, isn’t it?  You may have your choice of bedrooms,” Alastor said.

I looked at him and grinned, then hurried to one of the open doorways.  Inside was a bed, table, chair and an area for washing up.  The floor was titled with a scene of dolphins, octopus and other sea-life.  The walls were frescoed with similar scenes.  I had never seen anything quite like it.

I checked out the other two rooms.  Both were equally nice, but the last one I viewed appealed to me at once.  The frescos on the walls were of nude youths competing in a running event in the games and the titled floor was a representation of a stadium, no doubt the stadium of Delphi.   I chose this one for myself.  I had never slept in such a luxurious room before.

“I want to explore!” I said, after informing my brother of my choice.

“I want to sit down,” Alastor said.

“Can I go out on my own then?” I asked.

Alastor considered it as he gazed at me.

“Stick to the public places and go nowhere that looks even remotely dangerous.”

“I am not a foolish child,” I said.

“You are not foolish, but you are young.”

“I will be careful.  Please?”

“Very well, but do not stay gone long.”

I nodded and quickly departed.

I came and went as I pretty much pleased in Plataea, but I knew our home city well.  I did not know Delphi, so I understood my brother’s reluctance, even though it annoyed me.  Using the Temple of Apollo as a guide, I headed for the area of the city where the temples, treasuries and other public buildings were located.

The streets were crowded, which was not a surprise.  The Pythian games began in a handful of days and people came from all over Hellas to compete and to watch the athletic and artistic contests.  As I walked, I heard dialects that I had trouble understanding, even though it was my own language.  I even heard languages I did not understand and wondered if some of those around me might be from faraway places like Egypt.

I forgot about the visitors as I began to get glimpses of what was ahead.  Soon, I stepped onto the Sacred Way and began to walk by the altars of various cities.  I passed the Sikyonian then the Siphian treasury and spotted the Theban treasury off to my left as I turned to follow the road further up the hill.  While these treasuries were impressive, the Athenian treasury was even more so.  It was larger than the others, but still not large, likely because space was hard to come by here.

I stopped to examine the treasury of our allied city, which was dedicated after the defeat of the Persians.  That war had ended with the battle of Plataea in which my near ancestors had fought.  The marble exterior featured impressive reliefs depicting the adventures of Hercules and Theseus.

To the left of the treasury, in a prominent triangular area were displayed actual spoils from the Battle of Marathon.  I gazed at Persian helms, swords, and various pieces of arms and armor.  These things were actually present at the battle so very many years ago.  Each item no doubt had a history.  I wondered what Persian soldier had worn the dented helm near at hand and what man had worn the pierced breastplate.  Were these men eager to fight for the king of the Persians or would they rather have been home with their families?

I read the large inscription in front of the spoils, “The Athenians to Apollo from the spoils of the Persians at the Battle of Marathon.”

Next, I examined the inside of the treasury as well as I could.  There were displayed trophies of military victories and other items that had been donated to the temple.  Hymns to Apollo were carved on the walls as well as a few resolutions of the Athenians.

I was a Plataean first, but I also thought of myself as an Athenian.  Our cities had long been allied and had often come to each other’s aid.  My ancestors had fought at the side of the Athenians and I would as well if the time came.

I departed from the Athenian treasury and continued on.  There was almost too much to see here, too much to take in.  Everywhere I looked there were treasuries, statues and offerings to Apollo.

I felt the small pouch at my side.  Was what I’d brought as an offering worthy?  I’d made it entirely myself.  I’d even dug and mixed my own clay.  It was not large, merely a miniature krater, but it was my very best work.  The figures painted on each side were as detailed as I could manage.  Would Apollo consider it adequate for my request?  What I asked of him was small.  It was very likely that Alkides would be here representing his city, but I wanted to take no chances.  I wished to see him again.  I had never forgotten him in the months that had passed.  Indeed, he was more on my mind the further the Isthmian games receded into the past and the nearer Pythian games grew.  I had told Phaidon about him and he smiled at my enthusiasm for a boy I truly did not know all that well.  His smile was kind and understanding and I was glad.

There was no need to worry myself over my offering to Apollo.  He would like it, or he would not.  He would grant my request, or he wouldn’t.  Either way, I had made it for him especially and was determined to present it.

“No time like now,” I said out loud.  No one paid me any heed.  I was only a boy, thirteen now, among a throng of all ages.

I walked on, past the Stoa of the Athenians but then paused again to gaze at the Tripod of Plataea, which commemorated the 31 cities that took part in the Battle of Plataea.  The tripod towered over me, many times my own height supported by worked bronze strips and in the middle, three-snakes entwined with their heads supporting the base of the tripod.  This was a monument to many cities, but bore the name of my own.  I was proud my city was so well represented here in the center of the world.

I soon arrived at the temple itself.  I expected a line of those making offerings, but the area in front of the temple was oddly deserted.  Perhaps I had come at a time when no one was present to accept offerings.  Perhaps such things were only allowed at certain times.  Cities from all over Hellas and even other parts of the world sent embassies to consult the Pythia, the virgin who spoke for Apollo.  The greater the wealth of the city or king, the more expensive the gift.  My little offering was nothing beside such gifts, but it was mine to give and I’d put all of the talents Apollo had granted me in it.

I swallowed as an attendant in a flowing robe came out of the temple and walked toward me with purpose.  Was he going to tell me to be off?  Would he admonish me for standing in front of the temple alone?  I knew little of such things and I experienced no small amount of fear.

“Come.  The Pythia waits for you,” he said, then turned and walked back toward the temple.

I did not move for several moments.  Had he mistaken me for someone else?

“Excuse me, but I think you might have made a mistake.  I’m just here to make an offering,” I said, hurrying to catch up.

He turned and looked at me.  He smiled.

“The Pythia makes no mistakes, Nikias.  She sent me for you.  She told me where to find you.”

I gulped, but followed as he walked up the steps of the temple.  He knew my name.  She knew my name.  I was so overwhelmed I could not think.

We entered the temple, where few outside those who tended it were allowed to go.  There was the statue of Apollo, his embodiment in Delphi, towering over me and making me feel small, but oddly not afraid.  I had chosen Apollo as my personal god so long ago I could not remember when, but I knew I was young, so young I shouldn’t even have known about the existence of the gods yet.

The attendant led me to the side and then down, down into darkness illuminated only by fluttering torches.  As we descended, I felt almost as if we were entering the underworld, where all resided after death, but still, I was not afraid.

My guide stopped, turned to me and held out his hand.  I could not remember taking it out of the pouch, but my offering rested in my hands.  I gave it to him.

“Your gift is appreciated.  Apollo knows how much of yourself you put into it.  I will display it in a place of honor.”  I bowed my head because I had no idea how to respond.  “Go on, through that doorway.  The Pythia awaits.”

I nodded.  I took a deep breath of air heavy with scents I did not recognize.  I walked through the doorway, which seemed more like a portal to another world.  Inside, on a stool by a tripod sat the Pythia, her features illuminated by the dancing flames.  She was young, very young and beautiful.  She beckoned me forward.

“Welcome, Nikias of Plataea, follower of Apollo.  The god sends you this message.”

“Me?” I asked, but it was as if the Pythia did not hear me.

“Pain, darkness and despair awaits you.  Only by losing all you love will you find the desire of your heart.”

I gazed at the Pythia in horror and began to tremble in fear.  This was my message from Apollo?  I would rather have had none.

“Apollo has spoken.  Depart now.”

I bowed my head, turned and groped my way to the stairs.  The darkness seemed deeper now and the walls closer.  I began to climb, trudging up and up, but no light appeared.  The stair wasn’t this long, was it?  Had I become lost?  No.  That wasn’t possible.  Had Helios departed and left the world in darkness?  I trembled in growing terror, but then saw light above, dim at first, then brighter and then suddenly I reached the top of the stair and entered the temple.

I trembled so much I could barely walk.  The guide who had met me outside came to me, took my arm and led me to a seat off to the side.

“Receiving a prophecy from Apollo is overwhelming for mortals.  Rest a bit and recover.”

“A prophecy?  I thought those who came here sought answers to their questions.”

“They do, as you did, and some receive a prophecy.”

“But I didn’t ask a question.”

“You did, at least in your mind.”

“This is all very confusing.  The Pythia said, ‘Pain, darkness and despair awaits you.  Only by losing all you love will you find the desire of your heart.’  What does that mean?”

“That I cannot tell you.  The prophecy is for you alone and only you can decipher it.”

“Well, it sounds truly horrible.  I don’t want the desire of my heart if the cost will be so high.  I don’t even know what the desire of my heart is!”

“The meaning of a prophecy often only becomes clear when it is fulfilled.”

I thought about asking what good it was then, but held my tongue.  I did not want to be rude in the Temple of Apollo.  It was disrespectful to the god.

“Sit here until you feel better.  You are lucky, many who come to Delphi seeking answers find none.  Apollo spoke to you.”

I nodded, but I didn’t feel lucky.  I felt as if my world had collapsed around me.  Lose all I loved?  What could be more dreadful than that?

I waited until my head cleared and my trembling stopped, then stood on unsteady feet and walked toward the portico.  Soon, I was outside in the bright sunlight among the crowds, but I might as well have been alone.  I wasn’t sure I even cared about the games now.  Everything had changed in an instant.

I walked back toward our lodgings, trying to sort through what had happened.  Recent events seemed almost unreal, but then I supposed that was to be expected when one interacted with a god.

“Nikias?  Nikias!”

I looked up.  Phaidon walked beside me.  How long had he been there?

“Couldn’t you hear me?” he asked, looking at me with a concerned expression on his face.  “You do not look well.  I’ll escort you back to your brother.”

“I saw the Pythia,” I said quietly.

“You what?  The Pythia?”

“Yes.  An attendant called me into the temple.  He told me Apollo had a message for me.  The Pythia gave me a prophecy.”

My steps wavered, but Phaidon steadied me.  He still looked concerned, but now also astonished.

My erastes took me to our lodgings.  When Alastor spotted me, he also looked apprehensive.

“Draco, bring Nikias wine, quickly please,” he said and turned to me.  “What has happened?”

“Apollo spoke to me,” I said.

“He has seen the Pythia,” explained Phaidon and then he told my brother what I had told him.

Draco soon pressed a cup of wine into my hand and I sipped at it.  My thoughts were still a bit foggy.

“This is… astonishing,” Alastor said.  Draco merely gazed at me with his mouth hanging open.  “What did the Pythia tell you?”

“I’m not sure you want to know.  She gave me a prophecy.  It’s not pleasant,” I said.

“Tell us.”

“Very well.  She said, ‘Pain, darkness and despair awaits you.  Only by losing all you love will you find the desire of your heart.’”

Draco took a step back.  Phaidon placed his hand on my shoulder.

“The words of the Pythia can have many meanings and be confusing,” Alastor said, attempting to comfort me.

“I think this one is pretty clear.  To get what I truly want, I must lose all I love,” I said.

No one spoke because they had no argument against it.

“I don’t even know what the desire of my heart is!  Maybe I shouldn’t compete in the games.  Maybe if I do, I’ll win a crown, but then I’ll lose everything I love.”

“The words of the Pythia may have nothing to do with the games,” my brother said.

“Nikias.  You must not question your every move and decision.  Alastor is right.  The prophecy may have nothing to do with the games.  The events it refers to could be many years in the future.  In the end, all of us lose all that we love.  We die.  That is our destiny.  There is no escaping it.  Doom hangs over us all.  Our end is certain.  What is important is what we do before that end comes.  We must each make the most of our lives.  We must treasure each moment and those around us because we never know when those we love will disappear from our lives or when everything may change and all we know is no more.

“I know it was hard to hear the words of the Pythia, but truly that prophecy fits everyone who has ever lived.  There is hope in it as well.  It mentions the desire of your heart.  The cost will be great if you obtain it, but you will obtain it if you pay the price.  If you do not, then there is no cost.”

I felt better.  The words of Phaidon set me more at ease than I thought possible.  He was right.  The prophecy did fit everyone.  I was no more cursed now than I had been when I was born.  The only difference was that now I knew it.

“Listen to Phaidon.  He is right,” Alastor said.

“Yes.  He is,” Draco said.  “When I was a small child, my father was killed in battle and my mother and I were enslaved.  It was not such a bad life.  My mother died, but I had her in my life all the years of my boyhood.  Then, I was sold.  Your father purchased me and my life improved.  He and you have always treated me like family.”

“Because you are family,” Alastor said.

“Yes, which is why I refused freedom when it was offered,” Draco said.

That night in bed, I thought about the prophecy.  I knew it was best not to worry myself about it, but that was a difficult task.  What if I won a crown at the games?  Did that mean that disaster would soon follow?  I desperately wanted to win, but was that the deepest desire of my heart?  I didn’t even think I had a deepest desire, unless winning a crown was it.  What else could it be?

Disaster or no, I would do my best in each competition.  I owed it to my city, my family, Phaidon, who had worked so hard to train me and to myself.

***

The next morning, Phaidon and I ran through Delphi and up the slope above the city and the sanctuary.  This was an area I wanted to explore, but for now we trained together as we had for so many months.  I was a better runner, both in terms of speed and endurance, thanks to Phaidon.

We ran far up the slopes above Delphi and then back down again, ending our run at the stadium, which was located above the temple and all the treasuries.  It was similar to the stadiums in Plataea and Corinth and yet different.  The stadium was narrow, but long, forming an elongated oval with tiers of seats almost completely surrounding it.  The scent of pine drifted down from the groves further up the slope.  The stadium was nearly empty now, but tomorrow the seats would be filled with spectators and the track with runners.

“Nikias!  You are taller now!”

I turned at the sound of a voice I remembered and smiled.  Alkides approached.  He, too, had grown, and the sight of his beautiful face and form made my heart flutter.

“You as well.  I hoped to see you here.  This is Phaidon,” I said.  “My mentor, trainer and much more.”

Alkides took in my erastes and nodded with approval and respect.

“I am very pleased to meet you, but I fear Nikias will be even fiercer on the track than before if one such as you has trained him.”

“He is a force to beware.  I am pleased to meet you, Alkides.  Nikias has told me much about you.”

Alkides glanced at me and raised an eyebrow at that, making me blush.

“Oh?  What does he say of me?”

“That you run like the wind, as if you were Achilles returned to earth.”

I was glad Phaidon did not mention that I also said Alkides was beautiful.

“At the Isthmian games, Nikias ran nearly as fast as me.  After our first race, he was the only one I feared might best me.”

“I shall try my hardest to do so here,” I said.

“I would expect no less.  I look forward to competing with you again.  I am determined to win a crown, but if you beat me, I will still celebrate.  I knew at Corinth that you were pleased for me, even as you rued losing to me.”

Alkides gazed at me almost as if he was going to kiss me, but he had deduced that Phaidon was my erastes and so I knew he would not.  He was too honorable and would not kiss me even if we were alone.

“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.  Perhaps, we shall both earn a crown.  But now, I must go.  It was a pleasure to meet you, Phaidon.  I am so glad you have come, Nikias.”

Alkides and I hugged then.  He smiled at me and departed.

“Is it not difficult to understand why you spoke of him so much,” Phaidon said after Alkides had gone.  “I have only seen one boy more beautiful.”

Phaidon turned to me and smiled.

“I think your eyesight is not as keen as it should be,” I said.

“No?  You no longer think Alkides beautiful?”

“You know what I mean.  You think I’m more beautiful, when clearly, I am not.”

“Is that what I mean?”

“You know you do, so stop teasing me.”

“Very well, but you are more beautiful, Nikias, and more attractive still because you do not know it.”

I shrugged.

“Come.  We have much to see today and little time to see it.  Alastor and Draco will be waiting.”

I obediently stepped in beside Phaidon and we made our way back to my lodgings.  Tomorrow, I would race.  Today, we would explore Delphi.

Chapter Ten

I stood naked with the other athletes.  It was as if no time had passed since the Isthmian games.  Alkides looked even fitter than before, but I had grown and strengthened my body as well.  I recognized a handful of the other boys, but most were unknown to me.  I considered beating Alkides the real challenge, but knew that among our competitors there might be hidden an even fiercer opponent.

The seating was packed and others sat or stood on the slope above the stadium to watch.  Ours were among the first athletic events and we younger runners competed first.

We lined up.  I prepared myself to run for Plataea.  Everyone in my home city was counting on me.  I would win this race for them.

We shot forward as one for the stade, the shortest of the races.  I could see only Alkides, who was slightly ahead of me.  The other boys were nothing more than footfalls and heavy breaths.  I closed on Alkides, giving it my all, but he crossed the finish line just before me.  It was Corinth all over again.

Alkides nodded to me.  He knew the disappointment in my heart, but he also knew I’d compete all the harder in the next race, if that was possible.

I knew Alastor, Draco and Phaidon were in the stands watching me, as well as others who had traveled from Plataea for the games.  I kept my head held high.  I had failed to win, but I had done my best and I’d earned a second place.

After a considerable interval, we lined up for the diaulos, which was twice the distance of the stade.  Perhaps this would be my race.

I shot forth like an arrow from the string when the race began, the other runners with me, but not for long.  Soon all but Alkides were merely sounds behind me.  He was in front of me again, but I drew even and we ran that way for moment after moment, not by design, but because we were so evenly matched.  As we closed in on the finish line, I even thought I might win, but then he pulled ahead of me just enough to beat me once again.

We gazed at each other, chests heaving, after the finish of the race.  He nodded to me again and this time raised an eyebrow.  I knew what it meant, ‘You almost beat me that time.  I will have to watch out for you in the next race.’

My final race was the dolichos.  The distance varied by location, but at Delphi, like Corinth, it was 24 stades, a much longer race than the others.  I was ready for this.  I had run far and hard many times with Phaidon, even in the hot sun.  Helios was fierce on this day and sweat ran down over the nude bodies of the competitors.  Perhaps the distance would tire Alkides before it did me and I would finally live up to my name.  Nikias.

My final athletic event began.  Unlike the other races, the runners did not surge forth with all possible speed.  This was a distance race and only the foolish or overconfident ran at sprint pace at the beginning.  I set my pace without consideration for how many runners were ahead of me and how many behind.  I had run this distance, both with and without my erastes many times.  I had done so at different times of day on different terrains.  Here, we ran on the flat surface of the stadium running track, which was far easier.

As expected, I soon began to pass other runners.  Passing them was not my goal yet.  Maintaining the pace I had discovered worked best for me was my only goal during the first half of the race.

Alkides was ahead of me, but well within sight.  He was intelligent, so I had no doubt he had trained as hard as me.  Did he have the wisdom of an erastes to help him?  I thought it likely.  A boy as beautiful as Alkides with his unusual dark ginger hair and fit body no doubt attracted many suitors.  He surely had an erastes, but was his an accomplished runner?

Fourteen stades were behind us when Alkides increased his speed and began to leave the rest of us behind.  I increased my speed to match his and soon passed runner after runner.  In very little time, he was out in front, running a bit too fast in my estimation.  I slowed my pace a bit, but not too much because I could not let him take too great a lead.  I was far enough behind him he could not hear my footfalls and he soon slowed.  I matched his pace again as the heavy breaths of the other runners fell further and further behind until I could no longer hear them.

I was tiring, but that was expected at this point.  I felt I was where I needed to be in terms of the resources of my body.  My breath was coming harder now, but not unexpectedly hard.  My heart raced and my legs were fatigued, but all that was as it should be.  I knew I would have no trouble finishing this race.  The only question was where would I place?

I increased my pace slightly to close the distance between Alkides and myself.  This race was between us now.  That’s how it felt and I doubted I had to worry about anyone coming up from behind to pass me.  I could hear one runner behind me just before I increased my speed, but he soon fell back again.

Alkides increased his speed considerably as the 20th stade disappeared underfoot.   I matched him and then ran faster still.  Now was the time to press him and close the distance between us.

Alkides didn’t make it easy, but I didn’t expect he would.  He slowly accelerated more and more until we were running almost at sprint pace on the 22nd stade.

My breath came harder as I continued to close the distance.  I would not let him shake me.  With one stade to go, Alkides gasped for breath.  My heart pounded and my breath came hard and fast, but I drew closer and closer.  With half a stade until the end, I drew even.  We ran like that, perfectly balanced in speed as we gave it our all and then, I pulled out ahead.

There was no strategy now.  The time for that was over.  Now, it was shear physical endurance and strength.  I ran as if Alkides was about to overtake me, even when I heard him fall behind.  I was in pain now and gasped for breath but I kept running.  I could hear the crowd cheering and although I did not allow the cheers to distract me, I thought I heard my name, ‘Nikias!  Nikias!’ coming from a small chorus of voices.

I crossed the finish line.  I had done it.  I had won!

I slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath.  I wanted to drop to the ground, but I did not allow it.

Alkides stepped quickly to me and hugged me tightly.  He kissed me upon the lips in congratulation, then held me at arm’s length and smiled at me.

“If I must lose, I am pleased it is to you.”

“Thank you, Alkides.  I… I… This does not seem real.”

“Your first win does not and I think you will have many more in years to come.”

“Are you giving up competing?” I teased.

“You know better and I know in my heart that you are the better runner.  Someday, you shall beat me in every race.”

I began to open my mouth to argue, but Alkides placed his finger upon my lips to silence me.

“Come.  Let’s us clean up.”

I followed Alkides to the changing room where we, and many of the other runners cleansed ourselves of sweat and dirt with olive oil.  Alkides and I helped each other with hard-to-reach places and I reveled in the proximity to him.  If I did not have an erastes…  But I did, and I was glad.  I used the strigil he had given me even now.  A congratulatory kiss upon the lips was one thing, but more could not be.

We plunged into the baths, then dried and dressed. As expected, Alastor, Draco and Phaidon were outside waiting for me.  They congratulated me and Alkides, too.

“I fear I must content myself with second place in the future if Nikias is around,” he said, then gazed at Phaidon.  “You have trained Nikias well.  He is very lucky and you equally as lucky.”

I thought I detected desire in the tone and between the words of Alkides, but how could a boy so beautiful be attracted to me?

“I am the luckier, as you and I both know,” Phaidon said, grasping the shoulder of Alkides as he gazed into his eyes.

I departed then with Phaidon alone, while Alkides returned to the stadium and Draco and my brother did as well.

“He would be your lover if he could,” Phaidon said when the others had disappeared from view.

“Does that displease you?”

“No.  I think many feel the same about you.”

“I do not see myself as that great of a prize.”

“I know that well, which is a part of your beauty.  Will you come now to my lodgings with me, Nikias?”

“Something in the way Phaidon said the words quickened my breath and hardened my phallus.

“Yes, I most happily will.”

We began walking down through the sacred district of Delphi, past the Temple of Apollo, the monuments to heroes and victors and the treasuries of the cities of Hellas.  We gazed at each other from time to time, sharing sly smiles.  I was ecstatically happy.

Phaidon’s lodgings amounted to no more than a large room, but the floor was stone, as were the walls and the furnishings were fine.  I had no more than a look around when my erastes pulled me to him and kissed me.  I returned his kiss eagerly, no longer needing to play at resisting his advances.

Phaidon pulled off my clothing until I stood nude before him and then undressed himself.  His body was magnificent, all hard muscle and soft skin.  His phallus was much larger than mine, naturally, and it was stiff.

Phaidon kissed me again and then chewed on my neck.  He bit at my shoulders and then licked and sucked on my nipples, sending a shiver through my body.  Soon, he guided me to the bed and told me to lie on my stomach, which was somewhat difficult with a hard phallus.

Phaidon massaged my buttocks and then poured a small amount of olive oil between them.  He began to explore me with his fingers and soon had one inside me.

I was not frightened.  My erastes had been inside me before and I knew the pain would soon mix with pleasure.  I owed him this as his eromenos and I wanted to give myself to him because of the love I felt for him.

I felt the head of Phaidon’s phallus pressing at my entrance.  Slowly, he pushed until the head slipped in.  I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Phaidon slid a little more of his phallus into me.  Memories of Alexandros trying to force himself into me invaded my mind, but this was not Alexandros.  He was dead.  This was Phaidon, my erastes and I gave myself freely to him.

My ass felt like it was on fire and Phaidon felt unbelievably massive inside me as he pushed in deeper and deeper.  Tears came to my eyes, but I knew I would soon enjoy it.

Phaidon buried himself all the way in me.  I felt an uncomfortable fullness and yet the way we were joined pleased me.  My erastes was inside me, claiming me once more as his and his alone.

Phaidon pulled out slowly and then just as slowly slid in again.  The pain lessened and my phallus hardened further.  My tears stopped and little moans and groans came unheeded to my lips.  Sooner than I expected, I began to enjoy Phaidon impaling me over and over with his phallus.  My own began to throb and pure pleasure shot through my body as I squirted my seed, unfortunately onto the blanket on the bed, but there was no time to think of that now.

Phaidon began to thrust harder and faster.  His grunts and groans increased in volume and intensity.  My own phallus stiffened immediately again and before long my seed spewed out once more.  My erastes pounded himself into me.  I felt his phallus throb and then his seed shooting deep inside me.  My own phallus sent forth yet another flood of my seed and I thought I might black out from pleasure.

Phaidon pulled himself out of me and stood.  I turned onto my back and gazed at him.  A sheen of sweat covered his muscular torso and his arms.  He looked like a god standing there.  I felt as if I was Ganymede to his Zeus.

“Are you okay?” Phaidon asked.

I nodded.  “I am better than okay.  The pleasure was almost harder to bear than the pain.  I’m afraid I made a mess of your blanket.”

“Three times, I felt it.  Think nothing of it, Nikias.  You are advancing toward manhood.”

“I am not sure I want to become a man.  I think I would rather remain a boy and your eromenos.”

Phaidon crawled in beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“I am afraid there is nothing you can do about that, but you are lucky you understand the value of being a boy with an erastes.  It is a time of your life that will not last long and will never come again.  Someday, you will teach your own eromenos as I have taught you.”

“I hope I can be to him what you have been to me.”

“You will be.  I already see the man you will become.”

I smiled, but then cold dread fell upon me.

“What is it Nikias?” Phaidon asked when he felt me shudder.

“What if this is the desire of my heart?  What if I will now lose all that I love?  I am not ready.”

“Then that is what will happen, but I do not think this is the desire of your heart, not even winning a crown.  I do not believe I am the desire of your heart.”

“But I love you.”

“I know and I love you, too, but our relationship, as it is now, is temporary.  It is too brief to be the desire of your heart.  We will be connected as long as we both live, but the true desire of your heart is not me.”

“Who is it then?  What is it?”

“I can’t answer that.  Likely, you cannot either, but the answer will reveal itself in time.”

“And, until then, I will take pleasure in what I have,” I said, then turned my face toward Phaidon.  He leaned down and kissed me.  I was content.

***

I was the victor of the dolichos for the youths, but I had one more competition ahead of me.  I had never before participated in the musical competitions and I was nervous as my turn approached.  They were considered of greater importance than the athletic events, especially in the Pythian games because Apollo was the god of music.  The athletic competitions were relatively recent additions to the games, but the musical competitions extended back in time further than anyone could remember.

Back home in Plataea, I composed my own hymn to Apollo and played it for Phaidon.  I asked if it was worthy of Apollo and he agreed that it was.  So did Alastor and Draco.

I had improved my hymn and practiced often since and thought I had a good chance to impress the judges, but I was far more concerned about pleasing Apollo.  I had always felt a special affinity for Apollo and considered him my own personal god.  I wrote my hymn not to compete, but for Apollo himself.  Unlike the athletic competitions, I did not care how I placed, as long as Apollo was pleased.

The kithara was a difficult instrument, much harder to play than the lyre, but it was beloved by Apollo.  It was an instrument beyond my means, but ours was a family heirloom.  There was a story that it was from the time of Achilles, but I think that was only a story.  While touched by time, I did not believe it was hundreds of years old, but who knew?

The musical competitions were serious business.  While winning was not my goal, as it had been in the athletic competitions, winning one of the musical competitions was every bit as prestigious as earning a crown in an athletic event, even more so.  Those with musical talent came from all over Hellas to compete.  Winning a crown for poetry, playing an instrument, or singing a hymn could bring one fame in every city-state, not merely one’s own.

Had my desire been to win a crown, I would have been downright terrified.  The best musicians and singers in Hellas were here to compete.  What was I compared to them?

I listened to the performances of others in the various categories without nervousness, dressed for the occasion in a chiton that I wore almost never.  Draco had helped me dress and had draped the linen cloth so that my right arm was left free for playing the kithara.

Alastor allowed me to wear a fibula that was once worn by our father to hold the cloth over my left shoulder in place. While I was not nervous about what place I would receive in the competition, because truly I did not think I would place at all, I was nervous to wear the broach for fear I would lose it.  That was unlikely, but it was one of the few mementos we had of our father.

My brother stood near me off the performance area in the theatre while I awaited my turn.  Phaidon and Draco sat among the crowd, and there was quite a crowd.  Hundreds and hundreds would hear me play and sing.

Alastor arranged my chiton when the time for my performance neared.  I knew the hymn by heart.  I had written it and had practiced it over and over so that it would never leave me.  I had practiced most at home, but I had done so here in Delphi, too, near the sacred spring where those who came to consult the Pythia cleansed and purified themselves before entering the temple.  I sensed Apollo when I performed there and I also sensed his approval.

The theatre where the performances took place was so designed that one sitting in the highest seat could hear a whisper from the orchestra.  When my turn came, my brother squeezed my shoulder and then I walked out and took my place in front of the skene.  I knew the audience could see the Temple of Apollo and the valley that descended to the sea behind me.

Even as I stood there, in front of hundreds, I still felt no nervousness or fear.  Instead, I felt pure happiness.  This was for Apollo.

I drew in a breath and began to play and sing.  The audience listened so intently there was not a sound in the theatre except for my voice and that of my kithara.  The hymns sung in the competition were sacred to Apollo.

I was clothed, but felt more exposed here than I had during my athletic competitions.  I competed in the races nude, but here the crowd saw my soul.  Even so, I did not think of the audience as I performed.  It was as if I could not see them at all.  I felt as if I was inside my song and my whole being was focused on it.  I think I would have been happy to stand there, sing and play my kithara forever.

My performance ended too soon.  I had made no mistakes in either singing or playing.  I had done my best and that’s all I could do.  I walked back to Alastor and he squeezed my shoulder again.

“That was truly beautiful, Nikias.”

Alastor left me to join the audience.  I would watch the rest of the performances, too, but first I wanted to return to our lodgings to put away my kithara and pull off my fine chiton.  I was far more comfortable in my usual dress.

On my journey, I walked through the crowded sanctuary of Apollo passing one small, but beautifully constructed and decorated treasury after another.  Most of them looked like little temples in the shadow of the great Temple of Apollo.  Their bright colors of red, blue, green, and yellow were muted by the strong light of Helios, but still dazzling.  All the statues too were painted in life-like hues and some even had eyes of marble, obsidian, and other stones.  Most looked as if they could step down and stride, bigger than life, through Delphi.

I was loath to miss any part of the performances, but even so I paused and gazed at the four horses of the Chariot of Helios dedicated by the Rhodians.  Like the statues, they looked ready to come to life.

“Nikias.”

I turned and smiled as I spotted Alkides.

“I tried to catch you, but I had trouble getting out of the theatre.  You may win for your performance.  Those sitting near me thought you the best so far.  I do as well.”

“I do not know about that and winning is not why I performed.”

Alkides nodded.  I had told him about my hymn for Apollo.  He knew what it meant to me.

“Even so, I still think you will win.  I have never been mesmerized by a song before.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you lingering here?  You can look at statues any time during your visit.  You are missing the other performances.”

“I want to put away my kithara and change.  Come with me if you like, then we can return to the theatre together.”

“I would like that.  I have spent too little time with you.”

I smiled.  Alkides and I had somehow formed a special bond.  We were competitors, yes, but also much more.  I felt a love for him I could not explain.

“I wish that our cities were allies instead of enemies.  Better yet, I wish we lived in the same city,” Alkides said as we began to walk.

“Our cities aren’t enemies.”

“Not at present, but they have been before and likely will be again.  If we find ourselves near each other in a battle, we must never fight each other.  It should be as if we are guest friends.”

“Agreed.”

“We shall make a pact then.  We shall compete with each other, but never fight.”

I nodded and we clasped forearms.

“I wish I could visit Plataea, but it is not likely.  My father would not allow it,” Alkides said.

“I would like to visit Thebes, but I doubt my brother would permit it.”

“Let us visit when we are men then and can make our own choices.”

“Deal,” I said and grinned.

“Tell me more about the pottery you make,” Alkides said.

I did so.  Alkides knew creating pottery was our family business, but little more, so there was much to tell.  I talked, and he listened with genuine interest, all the way to my lodgings.

I invited him in and he waited while I put my kithara away, stripped and then dressed once more.

“I feel better now.  That chiton is too fine for me,” I said.

“Nothing is too fine for you, Nikias.”

I smiled shyly as my heart fluttered in my chest.  How could this boy, who I had spent so little time with, and who lived in a different city affect me so?  Perhaps it was a question for the Pythia, but after our last encounter, I feared to speak with her again.  Also, I knew I would not be able to even if I wished.  Far more sought the wisdom of Apollo than could be accommodated.

We walked back to the theatre together, talking all the way.  It was as crowded as we had left it, but we managed to find seats.  This was a rare opportunity to hear music and singing that was not my own.   I often played the kithara at home and sang to myself and for my family, but the greatest musicians of Hellas came to compete at the Pythian Games.

If I competed against all the others, I would have no chance at all, but I was only judged against those in my age group.  That was competition enough.  A golden-haired boy from Athens had sung a hymn to Apollo before me that was so beautiful it made my heart soar.

I had performed and now all I had to do was listen.  The quiet of the theatre was a testament to the performers.  No one spoke loudly and few even whispered.  Even hawkers of figs, wine, and bread did so silently.  It was a contrast to the theatre in Plataea during plays when the audience often called out to the actors.

Alkides pressed his knee into mine.  I pushed his knee away playfully and he pressed it back against me.  We left off our game before we drew the attention and disapproval of our elders.  Even the least roughhousing now would be taken as disrespect to the god.  I knew Apollo would not be displeased with me.  He knew how I felt about him and there was no disrespect for him in my entire being.

I had waited a lifetime to visit Delphi.  True, I was only thirteen, but it was still my lifetime and I was lucky to be here.  I had visited Athens, Corinth and now Delphi.  I wished to see other great cities, but even if I never did, I would be happy with what I’d already seen.

The light began to fail.  As the torches were lit, the performances took on an other-worldly character and I felt cozy and safe sitting beside Alkides.  I enjoyed his company as much as I did that of Phaidon.  I found myself wondering how things would be between Alkides and myself if we lived in the same city.  I felt drawn to him even now and I don’t mean physically.  Well, yes, that, but something more.  I felt as if I wanted to spend my life with him.

I pushed the thought away as I did so many.  We were not from the same city, or even cities friendly to each other.  Chances were Alkides would always reside in Thebes and I would always live in Plataea.  Our situation was unlikely to change and I would have to be happy with here and now.  That wasn’t so bad.  This was one of the best times of my life and I knew I would remember it to the end of my days.

We remained until the last performance was finished and then Alkides walked me to my lodgings.  He gazed at me as we stood before the door and smiled at me, making me shiver even though the night was warm.   He kissed me goodnight upon the cheek, which was permissible between boys even though I, and likely Alkides, had an erastes.

He turned and I watched his retreating form until he disappeared in the darkness.

Chapter Eleven

I was dressed once more in my fine chiton, the one I didn’t think my brother should have had made for me.  I supposed he was right.  There were rare times when my everyday clothing was not good enough.  Today, was one of those times.  Today, I would receive my crown for my victory in the dolichos.

Phaidon and all those who had traveled to Delphi for the games waited at our door when Alastor, Draco and I stepped out.  I walked immediately to Phaidon and he nodded at me.  We began the long walk to the stadium where the crowns were presented.

“Everyone is looking at me,” I said, quietly, indicating our small group of perhaps a score.

“That is because you are a victor in the games.  It is a great honor.”

“I know, but…”

“I don’t think you realize how great an honor, Nikias.  I know you.  Do not dismiss yourself.  Do not think, ‘I am only me.  I do not deserve this.’”

“Can you read minds?” I asked with a grin because that was exactly what I was thinking.

“No.  As I said, I know you.  Winning a crown places you almost on the level of a hero.”

“This is too much for me.”

“No, it is not.  You competed in front of thousands.  Most would not have the courage.  The hard part is over.”

“You’d think so, but…”

“You are not one who likes too much attention.”

“Only from you,” I whispered.

“I am proud of you.”

“Then I am happy.”

Once in the stadium, I joined the others who won or placed in the athletic events.  Alkides found me quickly and stood by my side.

“Here we are again.  Well, more or less.  The last time we waited for an awards ceremony we were in Corinth,” he said.

“I still can’t believe I won.”

“I can!” Alkides teased.

“You did not make it easy.”

“I never will.”

His grin was mischievous.  Merely looking at him made my heart race.

The ceremony and the presentation of prizes soon began.  Those for the younger competitors were given out first for each competition, so it was not long before I walked forward to receive my prize for coming in second in the stade, a stirrup jar decorated with runners around the sides and filled with the finest olive oil.

I watched then as Alkides was crowned with a wreath of bay laurel and cheered for him along with everyone else.

Soon, I stepped forward again to receive my prize for coming in second in the diaulos, a fine bronze dagger, so fine that it seemed too great a prize.  It came with a scabbard and I was very pleased with it.

Alkides was crowned once more, forcing him to hold his other crown in his hands as he had done at Corinth.

My heart beat faster as the prizes for the dolichos were presented.  This time, Alkides received a finely worked bronze caldron for placing second.  He seemed as pleased with it as he was with his crowns.

I nearly froze in place as I was announced as the victor of the dolichos.  I think I would have frozen if not for Alkides.  He gently nudged me forward.  I stepped up to stand before all as a crown of bay laurel was placed upon my head.  The entire stadium cheered, for me.  I thought then that I could die happy.

Even so, I was a bit relieved when I’d accepted the last of my prizes.  A good while later, after all the prizes had been awarded, I waited until Phaidon, Alastor and Draco came to me to walk me to our lodgings.  Alkides and I grinned at each other as I departed.

Our trip back was made longer by all those who stopped to congratulate me when they spotted my crown.   A part of me wanted to take it off, but I knew that this was an event that would likely never come again.  I knew I should enjoy it while I could.

***

Now that I had finished competing, I had more time to be a spectator at events.  There was wrestling, boxing, the pentathlon and one of the most exciting, chariot races.  Phaidon took me to see the painting competition, where great artists created their works in public for all to see.  Most could never hope to own such a work of art themselves; such things were for the very wealthy, but merely viewing them was a wonder.  Watching as they were created was an experience I would never forget.

“Perhaps you should compete as an artist someday,” Phaidon said.

“My painting is not on this level,” I said.

“I disagree.”

“You are biased.”

“Perhaps, but I think not.  You can do anything, Nikias.”

I smiled.

Our days at Delphi were too swiftly passing, but all of us made good use of them.  We watched competitions, ate, drank and celebrated.  It seemed as if all those who came from Plataea wished to throw a small feast for me, one after another, to which Phaidon, Alastor and Draco were invited.  We certainly did not lack for food.

I was also allowed time to myself, and one morning, before it grew too hot, I set out to explore the slopes of Mount Parnassus.  While I loved to spend time with others, especially Phaidon, there were times when I wanted and even needed to be alone.

I had achieved my goal.  I had won a crown.  I had been so focused on my quest for victory that I hadn’t considered what came after.  Where did I go with my life now?  Yes, I would return to Plataea and continue in the family business, but should I continue to train so I could compete in the Nemean and Olympic games?  Should I turn my attention to something else?  I felt a bit lost now in a way I didn’t before my victory.

The terrain was steep.  I had not gone far above the stadium and already I could see Delphi below me.  There was the great Temple of Apollo where the Pythia had spoken words I wished I had not heard.  There were the treasuries, the theatre where I had performed and closer, the stadium where I had lost to Alkides and where I had won a crown.

I loved this place.  I felt closer to Apollo here.  I had always been drawn to him.  Part of that was because he was the god of music, but there were other reasons I could not name.

I climbed higher as Helios continued his journey across the sky.  I sought out the site where Apollo had slain the python and made Delphi his own.  I walked on and up, passing ancient olive trees, fragrant herbs and even a fig tree here and there.  The sky was clear, a brilliant blue and already the day grew warm.

I stopped near an especially large and ancient olive.  Not far above was a cave.  I felt something in this place, some lingering trace of the past.  Visions of Apollo battling the python entered my mind.

“This is it.  This is where it happened,” I said out loud.

I did not know how I knew it, but I was absolutely certain that this was the very spot where Apollo had fought and killed the python.

I sat on a large boulder in the shade of the olive, gazing at the sparse vegetation and the hot, dry earth.  I had been there some time when I detected a presence behind me.  Alarmed, I quickly turned, but my fear turned to pleasure as my eyes beheld Alkides.

“How did you find me?” I asked, not at all disappointed that my solitude had ended.

“I always know where you are, Nikias.”

“This is where Apollo killed the python.  I can’t tell you how I know, but I’m sure it was here, on this very spot.  Do you believe me?”

“Of course, I believe you.”

“Think of it, Alkides.  He was here, right here.”

“I remember it well.  It was but the blink of an eye ago.”

“What?” I asked, but Alkides was gone, replaced by a somewhat older and even more beautiful youth, one more beautiful than I had ever seen.

I stared at him, my heart pounding.

The youth held out his hand.  I stood and cautiously approached him, swallowing hard as I did so.  Was this… could this be… Apollo?

“Yes, it could be and it is,” the youth said.

My legs grew so shaky they would have collapsed under me, but Apollo caught me in his arms and cradled me against his strong chest.

I tilted my head back to gaze upon his face.  He was so incredibly gorgeous he took my breath away.  He leaned down and kissed me.  I did not even think to resist.  One did not say ‘no’ to a god.

“I see why Alexandros sought to possess you, but he was not worthy of you.  I prevented him from taking what he in his arrogance thought was his right.”

“You sent Phaidon to save me?”

“I merely guided him close enough to hear you.  I knew he would save you of his own accord.  He is worthy of being your erastes.  He deserves you.”

Apollo kissed me again and ran his hands over my body.  His features took on a feral look and he stripped away my garments and then lifted me up and pressed his hardened phallus between my buttocks.  I struggled out of reflex, but he forced himself inside me.  I felt not the least pain, only pleasure.  Apollo smiled with satisfaction as I moaned and whimpered.

I had painted this scene on a krater for Alexandros, only it was Zeus and Ganymede.  I did not feel worthy.

“You are,” Apollo groaned as he lifted me up and down on his phallus.  “You are as beautiful as Ganymede.  I will not say more so because that might kindle the jealousy and anger of Zeus, but you are my Ganymede, for now.  I would keep you for myself, but the gods are jealous and sooner or later they would destroy you, as Hyacinth was destroyed.  You are as beautiful as he, even more so, and I will not curse you by keeping you at my side.”

I groaned and my seed shot forth.  I could feel Apollo releasing his within me.  If I was female, I would have borne a demigod, but boys did not produce children.

Apollo did not stop, but kept going.  He leaned in and kissed me, even as he thrust into me.  We both shot our seed four times before he stopped and set me down before him again.

Apollo then took me to a grassy space under the olive tree and told me of his battle with the python, pointing out the exact locations where major points in the fight took place.  I listened with rapt attention and knew I would paint the scene upon pottery to preserve it forever in my mind.

Apollo leaned back against the tree and pulled me back toward him so that he could hold me in his arms with my head resting on his chest.  He toyed with my locks as we drew in the beauty of this place.

“Is this it?  Is this the deepest desire of my heart?  Am I doomed to lose all I love now?” I asked.

“I am not the deepest desire of your heart, Nikias.  You love me.  You have always loved me and because of that I favor you, but the desire of your heart is elsewhere.”

“Winning a crown was not it?” I asked.

“No, winning a crown is not the desire of your heart, even though you greatly desired it.”

“Will you tell me what is?”

“No.  I will not.  If I do you will change your path and that will lead to a far worse doom.”

“Worse than losing all I love?  What could be worse than that?”

“Many things are far, far worse.  Because I love you, I will not tell you.”

“Why did you reveal to me what will happen through the Pythia?” I asked.

“So many questions.  I did so to enable you to be prepared and also to cause you to enjoy every moment of every day.  All humans are mortal, Nikias.  They believe they will live forever, but that is reserved for the gods.  They do not appreciate life until it is nearly over.  I know you are wise enough to appreciate it, young as you are, but I want you to savor every moment while it lasts because before you know it, you will turn around and it will be no more.”

With that.  Apollo was gone.  I leaned back against the olive tree, alone now.

No one would believe this happened, but then that wasn’t the point, was it?  This wasn’t for others.  It was for me.  I would tell those close to me, but whether they believed me or thought I imagined it did not matter.

I did not like what Apollo had told me.  Losing all that I loved was the best I could expect.  I wondered what worse fate there could be, but Apollo assured me there were worse and he was infinitely wiser than me.

I was going to take his advice.  I appreciated everything in my life, but from now on I would savor every pleasant moment, every kind glance, every triumph.  I would stop to take in the beauty around me and spend all the time I could with those I loved.  I would appreciate it all before it was gone.

I stood and began to walk back down the slope toward Delphi.  It was morning still, but already the day grew hot.  I breathed in the warm air scented with olive, sage and rosemary.  I felt changed, as if I was somehow more because Apollo had made love to me.  He had chosen me when he could have anyone.  I felt special, but I would not let it go to my head.  Instead, I would remember my time with him and continue my devotion to him.

I paused at the stadium, now oddly silent when it had so recently been filled with life.  I thought not only of being crowned and accepting my prizes, but of racing and of Alkides’s smile.  I wondered if I would race here again or if life would set me on another path.

I walked through the sacred district, crowded already with throngs of visitors.  I stopped to gaze at the Omphalos stone, the naval of the world.  Zeus released two eagles at the far ends of the world and right here, they met.  Delphi was the center of the world.

I paused also to gaze up at the statue of a past winner of the games, Antinoos who was victorious in the pentathlon before my father was born.  His handsome face and muscled body were painted dark tan, as if he had been long in the sun.  His hair, curled and long, was painted black and his blue eyes were gems that sparkled in the light of Helios.  His body was proportioned perfectly.  I wished I could grow into such a man.

I continued on.  As much as I wanted to stop and sniff each rose and gaze at each statue, I was expected back and could not linger.  I guess that was life.  There was never time to do everything one wished.  One could only do as much as possible with the time available.

Was it my imagination, or did people turn and look at me as I passed?  I dismissed it and continued on.

Phaidon stood with my brother outside our lodgings as I approached.  They turned and gazed at me with intense curiosity.

“You have a glow today, little brother and I could swear you are taller than when I saw you last,” Alastor said.

“Glowing?” I said, foolishly looking at my own hand as if light might radiate from it.

“I mean you look exceedingly well and fit.”

“I, too, swear you are taller,” Phaidon said.

“Perhaps, I am.  Something happened on the lower slope of Mount Parnassus, where Apollo defeated the Phyton.  He came to me.  He spoke to me.  He… made love to me,” I said, gazing at Phaidon.

He showed no disapproval.  The gods did as they wished with mortals.

“My eyes do not deceive me then.  What did he say to you?” my erastes said.

“He told me that winning a crown is not the desire of my heart.  I asked what was, but he would not answer, saying that if I knew I would change my path and face a far worse fate.”

My brother looked at me with wonder, almost as if he did not know me or how to act near me now.

“You believe me, don’t you?” I asked.

“I would believe you even if I saw no evidence and I knew at a glance something had happened to you.”

I smiled.  “Thank you, Alastor.”

“Perhaps we can take a walk before we catch one of the musical performances,” Phaidon suggested, gazing at my brother for his permission.

“I would like that,” I said, also looking to my brother, who was the head of my household.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.  Draco left for the theatre early and I planned to depart as soon as you returned, Nikias,” Alastor said.

I nodded to my brother and Phaidon and I began to step through the streets of Delphi.  Here, by our lodgings, were other similar lodgings as well as homes and small businesses.  It was less crowded here than in the sacred district, but there were still many people.  I was sure it was far calmer when there were no games and when the Pythia was not seeing those who came for advice.

“You are not angry with me, are you?” I asked my erastes, even though I had seen no anger in his eyes.

“No, you are an honorable boy, Nikias.  You have done no wrong and I am not angry with you.”

“Even though… I enjoyed it?” I asked.

“Even though,” Phaidon said with a smile.  “I knew you were a special boy, but I did not realize how special.  Gods do not choose mortals lightly.”

“I do not feel special or beautiful enough to be chosen by a god, or even by you,” I said.

“Your modesty is a part of what attracted me and no doubt part of what attracted Apollo to you.  If your face and form were exactly as they are now, but you were vain, you would not be so beautiful.  Many boys spoil themselves with arrogance.  You do not.”

“Not knowing my mother, and losing my father was hard, but I know I am lucky to live the life I do.  I have a brother who is like a father to me.  He is kind, but not so much so that he will fail to punish me if I do wrong.  I have Draco, too, who is a member of the family, good friends, and you.  I could just as easily have been rejected and left to die at birth, fallen to sickness, be a slave or live in dire poverty.  Instead, I have all that I have.  I could die in this moment and be satisfied.”

“If more were as wise as you, Nikias, they would be happier.”

“I do not think I am so wise.  What I do not know would fill the sea.”

“That is true of all of us, but you speak of knowledge.  Wisdom is a different thing and you have it my beautiful young friend.”

“I almost cannot believe I was with Apollo.  At first, he appeared to me as Alkides, perhaps so that I would not be frightened, but then he changed into an older and still more beautiful youth.  You would not believe his beauty, Phaidon, or the perfection of his body.”

“He is a god, Nikias.  He can take any form his wishes.”

“I wish I could do that.”

“You could not choose a form more beautiful than the one you already have.”

I looked up at Phaidon and smiled.  He meant it.  I did not agree, especially after seeing Apollo’s perfect body, but knowing that Phaidon meant his words made me feel beautiful.

We walked on together, mostly not speaking, but I could feel Phaidon beside me.  I wished we could remain just as we were forever, but things would change.  I would grow older until I was no longer a boy.  When that happened, Phaidon would no longer be my erastes.  We would still be friends and connected for life.  I was sure of that.  Until I lost him.  I would lose all I loved.  That made this day, this moment, all the more precious.

Chapter Twelve

Our time in Delphi was near its end.  I did not want to leave, but truly what more could happen?  I had won three prizes and one of them a crown.  I had received a prophecy from the Pythia and Apollo himself had come to me and taken me for his pleasure.  My dream of winning a crown had come true and as for my encounter with Apollo, that was the stuff of legend.

“I don’t see why I have to dress up,” I said when Alastor told me to change into my fine chiton, the one he’d had made for me to wear during my performance.

“You might win a prize.”

“Did you fail to listen to the other performers?  I will win no prize.”

“Do as I say.”

“Yes,” I said, lowering my eyes.  I walked into my room and changed as ordered.  I could argue with my brother, but when he made his mind up, I obeyed him.

I did think there was no need to wear the fine chiton.  My everyday one was quite good enough.  If Alastor had asked, instead of surprising me with a fine chiton for my performance, I would have told him it was a waste of drachma.

I changed and gazed at myself in the bronze mirror.  It was a nice chiton, far too fine for me.  I felt grand when I wore it.  That concerned me.  I did not want to become arrogant or guilty of hubris.  The gods punished those with excess pride.

I gazed at myself in the mirror.  I was handsome enough, but beautiful?  I did not see it.  I was glad.  There was no danger of hubris when one did not think too highly of oneself.

“Are you pleased now?” I asked when I returned.

“Yes, I want you to look your best when you win.”

I began to open my mouth to argue, but Alastor was entitled to his opinion, even when it was wrong.

“You deserve to win,” Draco said.

“We will soon see,” I said.

Phaidon soon arrived and the four of us walked through the town and then the sacred district until we reached the theatre.  There, we parted.  As one who had competed, I was required to sit in a section in the front and to the side.  I did wonder who would win.  My bet was on the boy who had performed before me.

As with the athletic competitions, the winners of the youth contests were announced first.  It was not long before my category was up.  I sat quietly and applauded with the others as the third and second place prizes were rewarded.  My favorite for the crown had not yet won a prize and I felt a touch of smugness.   I was now certain he would win.

My mouth gaped open when my name was announced instead.  I truly did not think I had a chance to place at all, let alone win a crown.  The very boy I thought would win pushed me forward when I stood still in shock.

I walked out in front of the crowd, completely astonished and accepted my crown.  I smiled broadly as everyone applauded and cheered.  I felt as if I was on top of the world.

After all the prizes were presented, I sought out Phaidon, my brother and Draco, which was no easy task even though we had arranged a meeting point.  Just as it was when I won my crown in athletics, there were many who sought to congratulate me.  I had heard it once said that winning a crown in the games was the closest one could come to being a god.  I understood now what that meant.

“Well, I suppose I was wrong,” I said when I reached my brother.

“Suppose?”

“I really did not think I was the best, or even among the best.”

“The judges thought differently and all of us agree with them,” Phaidon said.

I blushed.  This was almost too much for a boy of thirteen.

Phaidon walked with Alastor, Draco and me to our door.  There, I took the crown off my head and held it out to my erastes.

“I want you to have this.  Much of my success belongs to you,” I said.

“No, Nikias.  That is something you should keep, to remind you of your victory.”

“I have another and I want you to have this one.  Please.”

Phaidon reluctantly took it and smiled at me.

“I am very proud of you Nikias, and I am speaking of much more than winning prizes.”

“Thank you,” I said and blushed.

Phaidon admired the crown I had given him.  I wondered if it reminded him of his own victories.  I was very pleased to be able to give it to him.

“I will keep this always, and it shall forever remind me of you,” he said, and I knew he meant it.

***

We departed the next day.  I swear I had not a moment alone on the entire voyage to Athens.  My crown, like my other prizes were packed in a trunk, but there were many from Plataea on the same ship, and every one of them wanted to speak with me.  The more they talked about me, the more everyone else wanted to speak with me as well.  I was also asked to perform, which I did because it would have been rude to refuse.  I also liked to play and sing, even when I was alone.

“You could become a singer and musician, you know,” Phaidon said after one of my performances.

“It is mostly something I do for myself and those around me.  My true love is creating fine pottery.”

“Then that is what you should do.  Remember what I tell you, Nikias, follow your dream, no matter where it takes you, no matter what others think of it.”

“My dream is simple, to work by my brother’s side in our workshop, run at your side and play and sing when time allows.  I need nothing more.”

“I hope you can have all that for as long as possible.”

We disembarked at the port of Piraeus and this time we lingered long enough in Athens to visit the Acropolis.

I had wondered about the temples on the top of the Acropolis the first time I visited Athens on our journey to Corinth and the Isthmian games.  They were so high up they looked small, but I had long heard about the great Temple of Athena.

Alastor, Draco, Phaidon and I traveled first from the Piraeus to the city itself and then made the journey up and up until we reached the top of the Acropolis.  There was the Propylaea, the monumental gateway.  What seemed so insignificant from below was massive close up.

Next to the Propylaea, the bronze statue of Athena Promachos towered over us.  She was at least six times my height and maybe more.  We next examined the exterior of the Temple of Athena Nike to the right of Propylaea.  This temple was far smaller than the great Parthenon, but I thought it beautiful.

We admired the elaborately painted panels that covered one of the wings of the gateway and then walked through the main building.  There was the Parthenon before us.

We gazed up at the sculptures of the pediment and at the metopes many feet closer to the ground, but still far above us.  The sculptures were likely life-sized, but looked smaller from where we stood.  They were painted in bright colors, somewhat dulled by the brightness of Helios.  The Parthenon was the most incredible structure I had ever seen.  It was far greater than the temples in Plataea and even greater than the Temple of Apollo in Delphi.

We could not enter, naturally, because the temple was the home of Athena when she visited Athens.  I had entered the Temple of Apollo, but that was because the Pythia asked for me.  Others who consulted her entered the main temple as well, but not the most sacred area hidden from view.

Bronze bars blocked off the front colonnade of the temple and sitting beyond the bars were tripods, cauldrons, shields, weapons and precious objects without number, all offerings left for the goddess.  Beyond them, I could see the great statue of Athena, so tall her head nearly reached the roof.

We walked around the Parthenon, marveling at its construction.

“The columns look perfectly straight.  Every line of the temple looks straight.  How is it possible to build something so perfect?” I asked.

“Because the builders were wise enough not to use a straight line anywhere in the temple,” Phaidon said.

“I don’t understand.”

“If the columns were perfectly straight, they would appear to bulge.  If the base was straight, it would appear to be curved.  The architect used curved lines to achieve an illusion of perfection.  If he had created perfection, it would have appeared imperfect.”

“You’re telling me that the base isn’t’ straight?” I asked, pointing at the stone platform upon which the temple stood.

“Yes, will one of you walk to the far corner and place something on it, a large stone will do,” Phaidon said.

“I will go,” Draco said.

“Now, if Draco sets a stone on the corner of the platform down there and you put your eye to the edge at this corner and look straight toward the other end, what will you see?” Phaidon asked.

“The stone.”

“Will you?” Phaidon asked with a smile.

I noticed my brother watching with interest.

We watched as Draco found a stone, large enough he had some trouble lifting it, and placed it upon the far corner.

“Now, take a look.”

I did so, then jerked up my head in surprise.  “I can’t see the stone.  It’s gone,” I said, looking to see if Draco had removed it.  He had not and was headed back to us.

“Let me see,” Alastor said and took a look.  “It’s as if it disappeared.”

“The curvature hides it,” Phaidon said.  “The temples in most cities use the same trick.  It was discovered long ago.”

“I had never heard of it.”

“I have an interest in architecture or I would not have either.”

Draco had a look and was as astonished as me that the stone seemed to disappear.  Many passersby did as well when they heard us talking.  Still more checked it out as we departed to view the Erechtheion, the sacred marble temple that honored Athena, as well as many other gods and heroes.  I was fascinated by the six statues of maidens that held up the roof on one side.  The acropolis was filled with wonders.

We lingered long, seeing all there was to see, then descended back into the city of Athens itself.  It seemed a marvelous place to live, but Plataea was home and I was eager to return to it, my friends and my work, which wasn’t truly work because I loved it.

We checked out the agora, so we could pick up a few things that weren’t so readily available in Plataea and then took lodgings for the night.

We set out early the next morning.  Not much of note happened on the journey, until we neared Plataea, but then quite interesting things began to happen.  Word of my two crowns had arrived before us and I began to receive congratulations even before we reached the city.  Once we did, I was cheered by all those we passed.  We were sometimes mobbed and Alastor put me on his shoulders so that everyone could see me.

My welcome when I returned from the Isthmian games was enough to turn my head, but was nothing compared to the one I received now.  Painted banners and signs painted on the sides of buildings greeted me.  I was treated as if I was a great hero who had single-handedly saved the city from destruction.  It was so much; it was too much.  I was proud that I had won, but I did not think I deserved all this.

I was actually cheered as my brother carried me through the city streets.  Phaidon and Draco gently cleared a path for us.  I lost count of the number of people who touched me as I passed, as if doing so would give them good luck.

At last, we were inside and away from the crowd, but I knew our peace would not endure.  I did not mind overmuch.  Who doesn’t like adulation?  I also knew it would diminish over time, so it was another of those things I intended to enjoy while I could.

“If that doesn’t turn your head, nothing will,” Alastor said.

“It will not turn his head.  The head of Nikias cannot be turned,” Phaidon said.  I smiled at him.

“Wasn’t that something?  I expected a greeting, but nothing like that,” I said.

“I’ve already heard a feast of welcome is being prepared and that honors will be bestowed upon you,” Draco said.  “Many spoke of it as we passed.”

“I heard the same,” Phaidon said.

“It all seems a bit much,” I said.

“You deserve it, and remember, it will be a celebration for everyone, a celebration of Plataea.  You are a son of Plataea and what you do reflects upon all.  It is as if the entire city has been crowned.”

“Well, if it’s for everyone, that’s okay then.  I do like a party.”

For the moment, I simply wanted to rest.  After kissing me, Phaidon departed.  Alastor, Draco and I each went to our room.  Mine looked almost strange to me now after having been gone so long.  It was most certainly not as fine as our lodgings in Delphi.  It was primitive by comparison really, but it was all I truly needed.  I did not want to make the mistake so many others had by always grasping for more.  I sought mostly now to hold onto what I had.

Phaidon returned the next morning for our run.  We picked up where we’d left off as if no time had passed since our last run into the countryside of Plataea.  As always, we stopped at our spring, which is how I’d come to think of it.

“What are your plans for the future, Nikias?” Phaidon asked me as we took a short rest.

The question took me by surprise, but the answer fell easily from my lips.

“Continue on as I have in the past.  I have a feeling Plataea will ask me to compete in the next games and even if not, I wish to continue running.  I want to keep on with my work in our workshop and I hope you will continue to teach me to fight.  I know I have much to learn when it comes to fighting with a sword and spear.”

“That last is true enough, but you already know more than most your age.”

“Thanks to you.”

Phaidon inclined his head slightly.  “I am glad to hear your plans.  Some who have won a crown might think to turn their entire attention to the next competition.”

“If I must give up the rest of my life to train, then winning a prize or even a crown at the games is not worth it.  Remember the inscription we read at Delphi, ‘Nothing too much.’  Devoting myself to training would be too much.”

“How can you continue to be my eromenos when you already know all I wish to teach you?” Phaidon asked with a grin.

“Easily, because as you know well, I do not already know all you wish to teach me.”

Phaidon pulled me to my feet and kissed me then.  Our hands began to roam and soon he was inside me.  He did not take me by force as Apollo had.  I yielded to him without struggle.  I had heard that many eromenos only took their erastes’ phallus between their thighs and not inside them.  They missed most of the pleasure.  It hurt some, but even the pain soon became pleasure and being taken by my erastes excited my passion.  It was not long before I cried out in ecstasy and felt Phaidon throb inside me.

We ran back to the city, which was awake now.  One individual after another greeted us and called us by name.  We had been well-known before we had departed, but now word had spread that I had won not one, but two crowns.  I liked the city knowing that we were erastes and eromenos.  I was proud to be Phaidon’s boy.

The next couple of days were not normal.  More people came to view my prizes than had after the Isthmian games.  This time there was also one of my crowns to view.  I would have thought the bay laurel would have withered greatly, but it looked much the same as it did when placed upon my head.  That was no doubt because the laurel was cut from a sacred grove.

We sold one piece of pottery after another; cups, kraters hydrias, lekythos, amphora and more.  Thankfully, we had worked hard and built up our stock, but even so it looked like we might actually sell out.  That was a good thing, but it took time to make each piece and paint it properly.  We did not turn out shoddy wares.  We had a reputation for fine work and intended to keep it.

I drew even more attention when I walked through the streets later in the day.  Everyone knew my name.  I was greeted time and again and I often heard someone whisper, “crown winner” to those near.

It was a relief to enter the gymnasium during the hours set aside for youths.  It was busy as always, but I knew my friends would be there.  I smiled as I pulled off my chiton in the changing room.  I had missed them all and now I could see them again.

“Hyperion!  Timon!  Hermokrates!” I called out as I neared.

“Well, at least he still speaks to us.  I thought we might no longer be worthy,” Hyperion said.

“Oh, well, you were never worthy, but I spoke to you anyway.  Why should that change?” I said.

My friends playfully shoved me around.

“Nikias!  Nikias!  Nikas!  It’s all I hear, even at home,” Hermokrates said.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if they erected a statue to you.”

“Don’t even say it.  I get too much attention as it is,” I said.

“Two crowns!  Do you know we’re popular now just because we are your friends!” Timon said.

“Speak for yourself, I was always popular,” Hyperion said.

“Delusions in one so young is a sad thing,” Hermokrates said with a smile.

“Would you like to wrestle?  I will make you pay for your words.  Then again,” Hyperion said, taking in Hermokrates’ muscles, “I think I shall let it go this time.”

“I appreciate your kindness,” Hermokrates said with a smirk.  He was the strongest of us all and could beat any of us.

“What’s news since I left?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing happens here!  Tell us about Delphi!  What was it like being crowned?” Timon asked.

I told them about Delphi as we took turns with the discus and then the javelin; what it was like to compete and what it felt like to win.  My tales continued the entire time we exercised.  I did not tell them about my encounter with Apollo.  I was known for being truthful, but wasn’t sure they would believe it.  I also thought of it as an intensely personal experience.  It was enough to share with my erastes and family.  I also did not tell them of the words spoken by the Pythia.  Why trouble my friends, especially when they were a part of what I loved?

I was troubled as I gazed at them while we cleaned off the dirt and sweat with our strigils after exercising.  If I was to lose all I loved, and I did not doubt that I would, what would happen to Hermokrates, Hyperion and Timon?  Did a doom hang over their heads, too?

I hoped that losing them meant simply that we would lose touch when they married and raised their own families someday.  Perhaps it was only that.  If so, it would not be so bad because I would probably still see them from time to time.  As for myself, I couldn’t imagine marrying a female and producing children.  I sensed I was different from most, but I was young and in love with Phaidon.  That was a relationship that would alter when I began to grow hair on my face.  Perhaps then I would be ready to marry.

I pushed it out of my mind.  Most men did not marry until at or near the age of thirty.  I was thirteen.

“Why are you troubled, Nikias?” Hermokrates asked as he began to dress.  “Too much attention?”

“It is a bit much,” I said.

“I fear you will have to suffer for a while.  The feast is soon and you will receive a huge amount of attention then.”

“Oh, you poor little victor of the Pythian games.  We all pity you for your acclaim,” Hyperion said, mussing my hair.

“Ten to one there will be poems written about him,” Timon said.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled at my friends.  They had a way of putting things in perspective.

I had no more than reached home when Alastor called out to me.

“Nikias, someone was here for you.  The city has commissioned him to carve a statue of you in marble.”

My mouth fell open.  I remembered the words of Hermokrates.  His jest had come true.

“A statue?  Of me?  That seems far too much.”

“It will glorify Plataea.  You cannot refuse.”

I sighed.  “Well, if I cannot refuse, I will not think about it at all until I must.”

“I, for one, will be proud that a statue of you will be erected for all to see,” Alastor said.

“Well, you don’t have to take jabs from my friends.”  Alastor grinned and mussed my hair as Hyperion had.  “Seriously, they will give me no end of trouble.”

“You are tough.  You can take it.”

“I suppose so, but that doesn’t mean I will enjoy it.”

***

Alastor and Phaidon escorted me to the feast held in my honor.  Draco came with us, of course.  He was a slave, but only because he refused to be freed, something that continued to confound me.  He was a member of our family and treated as such.

“I feel foolish wearing my crown,” I said as we walked toward the agora.

“This celebration is about your victory.  Everyone will expect you to wear it and be disappointed if you do not,” Alastor said.

“I still don’t feel like I deserve all this,” I said.

“You most certainly do,” Phaidon said.  “A victory in the games glorifies Plataea, as you know well.”

“Thinking about it as a celebration for Plataea makes me feel better about the whole thing.  I would be lying if I said I didn’t like attention, but it’s too much attention.”

“I am confident you will bear up under it well,” Phaidon said, grasping my shoulder for a moment.  His touch set me on fire, as it always did, but there was no time to think of such things now.

I was placed in the very center of a table on a raised dais.  On either side were the leaders of the town, men who were well above my family in social status.  We were craftsmen, not aristocrats, but these men deferred to me as if I was not only equal to them, but above them.

Soon, came the inevitable speeches.  Thankfully, I was not required to give one.  Listening was quite enough to endure.  Hermokrates caught my eye from one of the tables down below just as the speaker was going on and on about my athletic prowess and musical abilities.  A superior expression crossed his features that I knew was meant to represent me.  I could do nothing but smile back and he knew it.  Too many eyes were upon me.

My eyes widened when I was awarded free meals for life at the expense of the city.  It was an honor sometimes bestowed upon victors, but I had not expected it.  In truth, I didn’t feel quite like a victor.  It all seemed rather above me.

Then, plans for the statue were announced.  I could almost hear my friends snickering.  This truly seemed too much and yet a part of me was very pleased.  Perhaps, centuries from now after we were all long dead, my likeness would still exist.  It was a sort of immortality, the best a mortal could hope for in any case.

The food was the guest of honor as far as I was concerned.  I could not see if those down below were eating the same things as me, but I was served fish and roast mutton, olives, mashed vegetables flavored with rosemary and olive oil, breads, cakes sweetened with honey and more, all with wine, naturally, suitably diluted so as not to dull the senses too much.

There was plenty for everyone, which was cause enough for celebration.  I had no idea of the cost, but I was certain it was considerable.  Such feasts were not held often.  This was only the fourth in my lifetime.

After the feast, there was drinking, dancing and general merrymaking.  Everyone wanted to speak with me and congratulate me.  In fact, talk with admirers was all I was able to do.  I did not have a spare moment.

It was late when Phaidon, Alastor and Draco escorted me home.  I felt a bit lightheaded, which could have either been from the wine or from all the attention.  In any case, I was glad when I was in my own bed, alone.  Too much of anything was not good and I’d had too much attention tonight.

***

I had never posed for a statue, that much was certain.  I reported to the workshop of Damian, who was considered the finest sculptor in Plataea.  He was held in such high esteem he was often called to other cities for his services, but for now, he was sculpting me.

I bought my lyre and my crown as instructed.  He asked me to disrobe, then placed the crown upon my head.  This took longer than I would have believed possible because he was intent on placing it exactly so.  Next, he handed me a strigil and positioned my right arm at my side.  Finally, he handed me the lyre and then worked on the positioning of it and my left arm.  Once all this was done, he began to sketch me.

“This pose will be perfect.  The strigil represents your athletic prowess and your victory in the dolichos.  The lyre, naturally, represents your musical victory.  The single crown stands in for both.  I have positioned you thus to show your physique to the greatest advantage.  I will capture not only your youthful beauty but your essence,” Damian said.

Standing still for a long time was more difficult than running a long distance.  My muscles felt as if they were growing stiff and I longed to change position, but I could not.  Thankfully, Damian finally finished his sketches and told me I could dress.

“This is the block of marble I shall use.  It is the finest available.  It comes from Paros and has often been used for monuments at Delphi, so it is especially fitting.”

“Isn’t it rather large?” I asked.

“You must understand that I shall carve much of it away, but the statue is to be larger than life size.”

Damian told me more, most of it too technical for me to properly understand.   He then dismissed me and said he would call for me when he needed me to pose again, but that it would be many days.

Far too much of my time was taken up by posing in the next few months, but slowly what was a block of stone began to look like me.  I would much rather have been working in the shop, playing my lyre, running with Phaidon, training with Phaidon or doing anything with Phaidon for that matter.   What I liked most with him were our frequent sexual encounters.  I came to so enjoy feeling him inside me that I feared it was something I could not give up when hair appeared upon my face.  It was fitting for a boy to submit to a man, but it was not fitting when one became a man.  I had asked Phaidon if there were men who did so.  He said he was certain there were, but none would admit it.

Phaidon, Alastor, and Draco stood near me at the unveiling when the day finally arrived.  Hermokrates, Timon and Hyperion were there too.  They had been merciless in teasing me about my elevated status, but it was all in fun.

There were speeches again, but fewer and shorter and then came the unveiling.  There I stood, larger than life, with a crown of laurel upon my head, holding symbols for athleticism and musical talent.  The statue was truly beautiful.  The youth it portrayed was absolutely stunning.  His face, his form, everything about him was beautiful.

I thought about that.  I had never thought myself as beautiful as others claimed, but the statue was a thing of great beauty and it looked exactly like me.  I was forced to admit to myself that I must be beautiful, too.

Fear passed through me for a moment, fear that I would become arrogant and vain, but I smiled when I thought of my faults, my clumsiness and how I could never win when I competed with my friends and other youths throwing the javelin and discus.   I might be beautiful, for now, but soon what beauty I had would fade.  No matter how others praised my appearance, I was still only a boy, not a god.

I was quite thankful that, this time, more attention was showered upon Damien than me.  It was he who had created this stunning work of art for Plataea.  I could call it stunning with no conceit, because it was his skill that made it so.  The statue looked exactly like me, at my best.  I was a skilled painter, but how anyone could chisel away at stone and create something like this was beyond me.

My friends did not approach me, but they all grinned at me mischievously.  I knew I was in for far more teasing than ever before, but I did not mind.  With them around, there was no chance of ever slipping into arrogance.

I sighed as I walked back with Phaidon, Alastor and Draco.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“What is there for me to do now?  I have won two crowns and now there is a statue of me on display for all to see.  Where do I go from here?”

“You work to improve your skills as a painter,” Alastor said.

“You also work to improve your fighting skills, you have much to learn,” Phaidon said.

“Further, you live your life and take from it what you can,” Draco said.

I nodded.  “You are all correct and I am glad to hear your words.  I suppose there is always something more to accomplish,” I said.

“Accomplish or merely experience.  Life is short for most, Nikias.  There are those who live for decades, but he is a lucky man who reaches forty,” Phaidon said.

“I hope we all do.”

“Time will tell.”

431 B.C.E.

Chapter Thirteen

“Up!  Enemies are in the town!” my brother shouted at my door.

My eyes flew open.  I jumped from my bed and hurriedly dressed, quickly put on my breastplate and grabbed my sword.  I rushed to catch up with my brother and Draco as they sped outside.

Rain wet my long hair and I slipped as we ran toward the shouts, screams and the sound of bronze on bronze.  Lightning illuminated the scene for a moment and we could see torchlight ahead.  We joined the fight and I was shocked to see even woman fighting the invaders who had somehow entered the city.

I had no time to consider this wonder before I was in the thick of the fight, facing a larger and armored soldier.  I did not hesitate.  I was no longer a mere boy.  I was sixteen and trained to be deadly.

I put to use the training of Phaidon and parried the blow of my enemy, coming back with a swipe to the legs that was deflected only partially by his grieves.  The warrior cried out in pain and I finished him by slicing into his neck.  I was glad I could not see him well.  I had never killed a man before.

I spotted Timon for a moment in the torchlight, but before I could think to move toward him, more enemies were upon me.  I jabbed, sliced and swung while evading the efforts of my foe.  He came close to taking my head off, but I jumped back just in time.

Phaidon appeared at my side and I felt immediately braver.  How he found me, I did not know, but I was glad to have him close.  I had become separated from my brother and Draco almost immediately in the confused and half blind fight.

Soon, there were no more enemies to fight and there was only the sound of the thunder and rain.

“I am going to find out what is going on.  Stick close to your brother,” Phaidon said and then disappeared as quickly as he had come.

Alastor was soon at my side.  He grabbed a torch and we searched for our own among the dead as others did the same.  I saw then the warrior I had killed in the beginning of the fight.  I identified him by the tree and lion upon his breastplate.  His eyes stared up sightlessly.  He was not so much older than me.  I had killed him.  I had ended his life.  I knew this was an enemy, but I did not rejoice in his death.  Instead, I felt only pity.

Far more of the enemy than our own were dead, but dread fell upon me and I upon my knees when I discovered Timon, eyes as sightless and as dead as the warrior I had killed.

I could not keep the tears from my eyes.  Perhaps it was unmanly to weep, but if so, I would be unmanly for a while.  I remembered Timon’s bright smile and his wit.  I remembered the taunts he tossed so easily at me and our friends and how he teased me after the statue of me was unveiled.  No more taunts would come from his lips.  Nevermore would he know the pleasures of his erastes.  He was my age and he would grow no older.

Alastor, Draco and I soon returned to our home.  We had barely cleaned up when a knock came at our door.  Alastor opened it, holding his sword, but it was Phaidon.

“It was the Thebans,” he said.

My thoughts immediately went to Alkides.  Was he among the attackers?  Did he lay dead like so many, like Timon?  The very thought wretched my heart.

“The Thebans?” Alastor asked.

“It is believed someone let them in.  They were about three hundred in number.  At first, they attempted to persuade the leaders of the town to join Thebes and their allies.  Some say the leaders agreed, but then realized how few Thebans were within the walls.  That is when the fighting began.  Perhaps half were slaughtered, but many escaped.  Some tried to jump from the city walls and fell to their deaths.  Messengers have been sent to Athens.”

“Are we needed?” I asked, ready to go out again.

“No.  Everything is well in hand at present.  Guards are now on all the walls, but there do not seem to be more Thebans outside.”

Phaidon turned to me.  “You did well tonight, Nikias.  I am proud of you.  Are you hurt in any way?”

“No.  I had a close call, but your training proved useful.”

Phaidon smiled at me.

He was soon gone.  Alastor drew me close and hugged me to him, then released me and smiled at me.

“Phaidon is right.  You did well tonight, very well.  I, too, am proud of you, and our father would have been proud, too.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”  My face darkened.  “Timon is dead.”

“No.”  I could hear the distress in my brother’s voice.  “Are you certain?”

“Yes, I saw him once during the fight and then found him when we surveyed the dead.”

I felt like crying again.

“I am sorry, for him, his family, for you, and for your friends.  I know it is a great loss to you.  I did not know him as you did, but it is a loss to me as well.”

“He died fighting.  His father will be proud.”

“Yes.  All of Plataea will be proud of him and of all who gave their lives this night.”

There was nothing more to do, so we went to bed.  I could not sleep.  I kept seeing the dead eyes of the warrior I had killed, and those of my friend.  Eyes that could no longer see.  Just like that, they were gone.  I had loved Timon in my way and now he was no more.

I thought of the words of the Pythia, uttered so few years ago.  I had now lost someone I loved, but I had gained nothing.

I was tense and uneasy when I awakened the next morning after my fitful sleep.  The first thought that came to me was that Timon was dead.  I had hoped I had dreamed it, but I had not.

Phaidon came soon, but we did not go running as we so often did.  It was not safe to leave the city.  No one knew where the Thebans might be or if they might attack.

“What word?” Alastor asked, as Phaidon joined us in our workshop.  We had begun our day’s work because we were not sure what else to do.

“Another messenger was sent to Athens and one came from Athens early this morning, instructing that the Theban prisoners not be killed, but too late.  Last night, many Thebans were locked inside a building, but were soon removed and slaughtered,” Phaidon said.

“The peace is broken,” I said.

“Yes.  Few are surprised.  The enemies of Athens must control Plataea if they want to support each other.  This is but their first attempt.”

“So, they will come again?” Alastor asked.

“Yes.  The only question is when.”

When turned out to be two years later.

429 B.C.E.

Chapter Fourteen

“The Spartans and their allies are coming,” Alastor said as he entered our shop.

“Are they near?” I asked.

“Near enough and the force is said to be immense.  There is no time for the Athenians to help us, if they have any help to send now.  They have suffered through a plague and the death of Pericles.”

Draco and I put aside our tasks and joined the others in preparing for the arrival of the Spartans.  Much had already been done.  This day had been long expected.  Great stores had been laid in and the city was inhabited only by boys and men fit for military service.  The exceptions to this were few.  Others had taken refuge in Athens, but with the plague and other calamities there was little safety there.

I was eighteen now—tall, fit and trained to fight.  While I might not be considered a full-fledged warrior, I was close enough.  Phaidon and I still ran together, but the focus on my training had turned to fighting not that long after my victories at Delphi, which now seemed so long ago.  Our relationship had also changed.  Since I was no longer a boy, we were no longer erastes and eromenos.  I must admit I missed that and yet was consoled by our continuing relationship.  The sexual side of our association was over, but the rest continued.

It was not many hours before the Spartans and their allies were spotted from the walls.  They had come in great numbers.  I soon learned that the Spartan King, Archidamus himself had come.

The Spartans were known for their fighting skills.  They alone in our world dedicated themselves solely to a military life.  I had even heard that Spartan boys were raised separately from their families beginning around the age of seven.  They were underfed, brutalized and trained to deal out death.  It was the Spartans who had held back the Persians long ago at the Pass of Thermopylae and fought until they had all been slaughtered.   They were known throughout the world for their bravery and now we would have to face them.

Hermokrates, Hyperion and I hurried up onto the walls near one of the city gates to get a look for ourselves.   The force was vast and closer than I had expected.  I heard so many different counts of the enemy that the numbers lost their meaning.  What I viewed from the walls looked to me like warriors beyond count.

“Do you think we will go out to meet them?” Hyperion asked.

“Possibly, but I doubt it.  Their numbers are too great,” I said.

“I would rather meet them than wait for them to come to us,” Hermokrates said.  “I will pay them for killing Timon.”

“Those are Spartans out there.  The Thebans killed Timon,” I said.

“Yes, but they are out there, too.  You can count on it.  They are allies.”

“I’m sure Spartan allies from many cities in their league are with them,” Hyperion said.

“I am with you, Hermokrates.  I would rather meet them than wait, but waiting may be the wiser course.  The easiest way to lose a fight is to let your emotions rule instead of your mind,” I said.

“That sounds like Phaidon talking,” Hermokrates said with a smile.  “Kallias taught me much the same.”

“Yes, but Nikias listens better than you, hot head,” Hyperion said.

“True, but I am stronger.”

“Are you?” I said, stepping up to him.  I was now slightly taller than him and easily a match for him in strength.

“We could wrestle to decide,” Hermokrates said.

“Save it for the enemy,” Hyperion said.

Hermokrates smiled at me.  We were evenly matched in wrestling now, unlike when we were younger and he always won.

“What are they building?” I asked, pointing.

“It looks like a wall,” Hermokrates said.

“Look further up the slope.  They are felling the trees,” I said.  This caused me greater grief than anything else.  Phaidon and I ran among those trees.  They were a part of the world I knew.

In the coming days, more and more trees came down off the slopes of Mount Cithaeron and the Spartans used them to build a palisade surrounding the town.  At the same time, they began to throw a mound up right against the wall, using stones and more of the timber to hold the earth in and keep it from spreading.

As the mound grew, Phaidon put forth the idea that we Plataeans should build a new wall inside, some distance from the threatened wall and fill the area with bricks taken from nearby structures.  This work occupied many of the men of the town, including Alastor, Draco, my friends and I.

Our work area was covered with skins and hides to protect the woodwork and those of us working from burning missiles, which the Spartans were not long in firing over the wall.

After many days of working as hard as we could, it was obvious our enemies were making greater progress.  There were far more of them and they worked in shifts without stopping.

Someone, I do not know who, came up with the idea of removing part of the wall against the mound to allow us to use the earth placed there by our enemies.  We set to this work, but the Spartans soon countered us by twisting up wattles of clay into the breech.

Both sides kept digging, but we slowly lost ground.  There were too few of us pitted against too many of them.

The days passed.  We toiled, but our efforts did not seem to amount to much.  My muscles were tired and I yearned for the days when I could sit in our workshop and create things of beauty.

“We could mine our way in,” suggested Akakios, the former erastes of Alastor.

His suggestion was taken up and we continued to take earth from the enemy by tunneling into their mound and using it to strengthen our defenses.

“Is anyone else tired of digging?” Hyperion asked when he paused to catch his breath during our third day of tunneling.  Like the rest of us he was covered with dirt and sweat.

“What?  No?  This is the most fun I’ve had in years,” I said.

“You need to have more fun then.”

“When I tire, I think of the Spartans piling on more and more earth, not realizing their mound grows slowly or not at all because we’re digging it out from underneath them.”

“It is kind of them to supply us with what we need,” Hermokrates said.

We laughed.  We needed a laugh.  Our situation was, at best, grim.  The city was mostly surrounded by a wall now so there was little chance of anyone getting out.  The Athenians might come to relieve us, but they had troubles of their own.  A plague had reduced their numbers by a quarter or even a third.  I wondered how many Plataeans who had sought refuge there had died of sickness.  No.  I did not think the Athenians would help us.  I did not believe they could.

Each day, we dug until we were exhausted, then others took our place.  We returned to our homes, cleaned up as best we could and I, for one, collapsed upon my bed.

Our days were now filled with countering the efforts of the Spartans and their allies to take the city.  It was not all digging.  It was also building new defenses in case the wall by the mound failed.  Soon, we were also occupied in battling the siege engines of the enemy.  Some we lassoed with ropes and broke.  We set up our own engines to counter their battering rams.  Those wiser than me invented or knew about these contraptions.  I could not have created them, but I marveled when I saw them in use.

Being inside the city, and not outside trying to get in, we had a far lesser task than the Spartans and their allies.  We eventually reached a point where our workload lessened, which was almost worse because with free time came the opportunity to consider our dire straits.  Unless help arrived, which was extremely unlikely, it was doubtful that any of us would survive.

I thought about the prophecy I’d received when I was a boy. I was likely days away from losing all that I loved, including my life, so where was the deepest desire of my heart?  It seemed unfair that I should pay such a tremendous price and receive nothing in return.  Life was not fair, I knew that, and I might have despaired as others were doing, but the prophecy that had frightened me for many years now also gave me hope.  I trusted Apollo.  He would not speak to me falsely.  That meant I had a deepest desire to be gained.  But, what?  Would I gain it only to die immediately after or did all that I loved not include my own life?

One positive side of a lesser workload was that I had time to indulge in leisure activities.  I could not run outside the city, naturally, but I pursued some of my interests.  I once again fashioned pottery, a large krater on which I painted scenes of the siege of Plataea.  There was no one to buy it and it would likely be destroyed when the city was taken, but it was the act of creating it that was important.  It gave me peace and enjoyment when there was little to be had.  I wondered if it was like this for the Trojans when my ancestors besieged Ilium.

I also created songs, about the siege of Troy and about our own city.  Doing so came so much easier now, perhaps because events gave me topics for songs.  Most evenings, I took my lyre to the scant evening meal and played and sang to help the others through this dark time.  Doing so relaxed me and allowed me to do something else I loved.  Here, so close to what I believed to be the end of my life, such things as creating and singing became all the more precious.

The attempts of the enemy so far having failed, they added fire to their weapons of war.  They brought up brushwood, set it aflame and tossed it down into the city.  It was not long before a part of Plataea was a roaring inferno the likes of which probably had not seen before.  For a while, it looked like the fire might spread through the entire city.  Plataea was not large and it could have easily happened if the wind had favored the Spartans.  Instead, the gods sent rain to put out the flames and save us.

All this time, the Spartans and their allies worked on the wall surrounding Plataea.  This they completed with a ditch to make attack harder should we dare it.  This wall they manned, leaving off their other efforts.  They had only to wait and they knew it.

The days passed, our supplies ran low and we became steadily more desperate.  We would have been in serious trouble much faster if so many were not sent to Athens before the siege.  As it was there were about 400 Plataean men, eighty Athenians and 110 women who had remained to bake the bread, which was our main food.  Even so, it was necessary to ration out our food and all of us were always hungry.

***

Hermokrates, Hyperion and I stood in the open air of the gymnasium, where we’d wrestled, threw the javelin and discus and raced so many times.  We did not do so now.  It was foolish to waste energy.  Phaidon and I did not run either, although I yearned to do so.

“What do you think Timon would say if he was with us?” I asked, remembering our friend.

“He’d probably talk about which one of us he’d most like to eat,” Hyperion said.

We laughed.

“He could always find humor in bad situations,” Hermokrates said.

“I wonder which of us he would pick,” I said.

“You,” Hyperion said.  “You are the handsomest by far and he’d probably think you’d taste the best.”

“I’m so honored.  It has long been a dream of mine to be selected as the first eaten,” I said.

“I’m glad my mother and sisters aren’t here, but I wonder if they survived the plague,” Hermokrates said.

“Let us hope so.  If they did survive, their chances there are much better than ours here,” I said.

“Unless Athens is besieged as well.  I’ve heard most of the force that besieged us has gone to attack other cities.  It is mostly Spartans and Boeotians now,” Hyperion said.

“Maybe he’s not out there then,” I said.

“Who?” Hermokrates said.

I looked up, realizing I had spoken my thoughts out loud.

“Alkides.  The Theban boy I competed against at Corinth and Delphi who won nearly all his races.  I only managed to beat him once.  We became friends after a fashion.  I… truly liked him.”

“He is probably far, far away,” Hyperion said.

“I hope so.  I know the Thebans are our enemies, but I hope he is well and safe.”

My friends nodded.  They understood.

“Remember when we used to race here,” Hyperion said.

“Yes, and how Nikias always won.”

“Just as you almost always won at wrestling, Hermokrates,” I said.

“Poor Timon.  He did not often win at anything,” Hyperion said.

“He did at times and we never teased him about it, although we teased each other about nearly everything else,” I said.

“I wish we were back in those days, with Timon still alive, competing against each other, having plenty to eat.  We were happy, weren’t we?” Hermokrates said.

“Mostly,” I said.

“What do you think will happen to us if we must surrender?” Hyperion said.

“The women will be enslaved, the rest of us will be killed, but I think we will fight before we will surrender.  I would rather die in battle, hopefully taking as many of the Spartan bastards with me as possible,” Hermokrates said.

Hyperion and I nodded in agreement.  To die in battle was an honorable death.

“At least we have now and the three of us are together.  We have been friends all our lives,” I said.

“Yes, dying together will not be so bad,” Hermokrates said.

“I wish Timon was here to die with us,” I said.

“Even though he’d want to eat you first?” Hyperion asked.

“Yes.”

We remained in the gymnasium, talking about old times and remembering all the stupid and annoying things Timon said.  He was here with us, in a way.  We would never forget him.

Chapter Fifteen

Hermokrates was correct.  We would fight before surrendering.  Our leaders decided that we would try to break out.  At first, it was to be all the men, but we knew our chances of success were so slim only 220 of us were willing to make the attempt.  Among that number was Phaidon, my brother, Draco, Hyperion, Hermokrates and me.

Once the decision was made, there was nothing to do but wait for the right opportunity.  I spent some of my time in our shop, painting pottery as if all was well.  Food was in such short supply we would have traded our finest piece for half a loaf of bread, but we knew there would be no takers.  Nothing had much value now if it could not be eaten.

I spent as much time as possible with Alastor, Draco, my friends and, of course, Phaidon.  He came to see me often.  We were no longer erastes and eromenos, but that did not diminish the love that had grown between us.  He still taught me things too, about fighting mostly because that is what would be of the most use to me.  The only thing that had changed is that our relationship had no physical side.  A part of me yearned for things to be as they were.  I often yearned to feel him inside me again, but I was a man now and it was no longer considered proper.  I did not truly understand and I did not agree, but that was tradition.  It was the way things were.  I would not have felt less if Phaidon entered me as he did when I was a boy, but others would see me as less.  It wasn’t fair, in my opinion, but then life isn’t fair.  It merely is, until it is not.

“Do you think we have any chance?” I asked Phaidon as we sat close together in our courtyard, enjoying the light of Helios while trying to ignore the gnawing in our stomachs.

“A chance, yes, but a poor one.  That is why we wait for the best possible opportunity.  Some of us may make it through, but all of us will not.  It is a fool’s errand, perhaps, but it would be more foolish still to wait here until we starve.  Succeed or fail, our efforts will benefit Plataea.  There will be 220 less mouths to feed.  Those that remain can hold out a little longer.  In the end, only those of us who try to break out have any real chance of survival.”

“I do not greatly fear death, but when it comes down to it, I don’t want to die.  I want to paint and run and exercise in the gymnasium.  I want things to be the way there were when I was a boy.”

“Nothing remains the same, Nikias.  Even if the Spartans were not at our door, you could not go back.  You were a boy and now you have become a warrior.  The only way to stop change is to die.”

“I wish we would get on with it,” I said.

“I, too, am impatient, but let us enjoy this little time we have.”

Phaidon turned and smiled at me.  I almost thought he would kiss me, but he did not.  That was okay, the feelings were still there.

“You know, I do not think I would change my life if I could.  Our present is grim and our future questionable at best, but I have had quite a good life,” I said.

“Yes, few win a crown and you won two.  Your statue stands even now, preserving you as you were then.”

“It’s more than that.  I mean simply living, my family, my friends, and you.”

“I would not change things either.  Did you know that I was nervous when I began to court you?  I feared you would refuse me,” Phaidon said.

“You were nervous?  Countless boys no doubt wished you would court them.  I was one among many.”

“You were the most beautiful by far, in face and form, and more than that, in many ways you were already a man when you were a boy.  I knew that you would never disgrace me.  I knew you had the courage to face anything that might come.  You were also so very talented.  I think you can excel at anything you put your hand to, and find joy in it.”

“You have a higher opinion of me than I do,” I said.

“That only adds to your attractiveness.  A part of me wishes you could have always remained a boy, but that is the selfish part of me that wants to keep you for myself.  The larger part is pleased to have seen you become the man you are now, Nikias.”

“I could not be as I am now if it weren’t for you.”

It was almost as if we had no troubles as we sat there together.  It was almost as if nothing had changed.  For a short time, we lingered in what once had been.

***

The waiting seemed endless, but when the time came to act, it almost seemed too sudden.  When I received word, I took the krater I had worked on during the siege to the Temple of Apollo and left it there for him.  I did not ask him to preserve my life or even the lives of those I loved.  I simply wanted to present him with a last gift in remembrance of all he had done for me.

I wondered about the words of the Pythia, Pain, darkness and despair awaits you.  Only by losing all you love will you find the desire of your heart.  Darkness was upon me.  No doubt pain and despair were soon to come.  I had already lost much and this night I would likely lose much more.  Where was the desire of my heart?  I still didn’t even know what it was.  How could I find something when I didn’t know what I should seek?  Was it death?  Did I desire death to erase my pain?  Perhaps, but I did not think so.  I had pondered the desire of my heart often, but now, when I was likely almost out of time, I was still no closer to an answer.

Alastor helped me prepare as lightning flashed and rain poured outside.  This was what the waiting was all about—a night that would obscure the vision of the enemy and perhaps drive them from their walls.  My brother checked to make sure my greaves, breastplate and scabbard were secure.  I checked his too, and we both made sure Draco was prepared.

“If we are separated, make for Athens.  The Athenians will need us,” Alastor said, looking at both Draco and myself.

“I wish you had allowed us to free you, Draco,” he said.  “Now it is too late, but remember that we have always considered you not only free, but a member of our family.”

“I do, which is why I never felt the need to be freed.  I am free already,” Draco said.

“Little brother, you are little no longer,” Alastor said, gazing at me.  “I am glad.  It will take a warrior to survive this night and that is what you have become.”

I gripped Alastor’s arm and smiled at him.

Phaidon soon came for us, looking magnificent in his full armor, holding his helmet under his arm.  He was soaked, as we would all be soon after stepping out the door.

My brother and Draco found excuses to make themselves scarce.  Phaidon met my eyes and smiled at me.

“It has been an honor to have you in my life,” he said.

“It has been a greater honor to have you in mine.”

Phaidon moved in as if to kiss me, then stopped himself.  I stepped forward, grabbed the sides of his head and kissed him forcefully.  We kissed for several moments as we had done when I was a boy and then pulled back.

“If you survive and I do not, know that I love you,” Phaidon said.

“And, if you survive and I do not, know that I love you, too.  If things could be different…”

I left the last unsaid.  He knew what I meant.  He knew I wanted to be with him.  Was that it?  Was that the greatest desire of my heart?  Perhaps, we still had a chance.

“We must go,” Phaidon said, loudly enough for Alastor and Draco to hear.

They reappeared.  I took one last look around our home and shop.  Kraters, cups, and other pieces still sat upon the shelves.  Unfinished pieces waited to be finished, but I knew in my heart none of us would come back to this place.  I drank it all in with my eyes and then turned and departed with the others.

My helmet protected my head from the rain, but the rest of me, including what hair extended below the helmet and down to my shoulders, was soaked as we walked to the meeting point.  There, we found Hyperion and Hermokrates among the others.  I clasped their forearms.

“If we are to die, we will die together,” Hyperion said.

“I plan to live and kill as many of the enemy as I can,” Hermokrates said.

“I like your plan.  Let’s do that,” Hyperion said with a grin.

A handful of minutes later, 220 of us slipped out of Plataea.  That was the easy part.  Our entire force tried to remain together, but the darkness was so intense it was hard to see more than a short distance.  Before long, we had broken into smaller packs, but perhaps that was just as well.

Lightning provided the only real light.  I slipped and slid in the mud.  It was a thoroughly nasty night, perfect for our purpose, but the same conditions that worked against the Spartans also worked against us.  At least they had little chance of spotting us with torchlight.  I saw but few sputtering torches as we neared the walls.

It seemed as if we moved forward forever, but we could not possibly have come upon the ditch more than a few minutes after we left the city.  Soon, I heard cries and then the sound of sword upon sword.  The Spartans had spotted us.

I did not have time to wonder about the other groups because I was too busy using my shield to deflect a spear aimed at my heart.  In moments, I was in the thick of it, first jabbing with my short spear and then, when the fight became too close, slashing and hacking with my sword, dodging and parrying, hoping I did not skewer a friend in the confusion.  It was too dark to see at all well and water ran into my eyes.  I slipped in the mud and nearly fell, but regained my footing as a warrior hacked at my neck, I dispatched him with a quick thrust of my sword, but slipped once more and this time fell upon my back.  As I tried to crawl to my feet, another ran at me with a spear.  I could not stand fast enough to defend myself, but a warrior dashed in front of me and attempted to deflect the spear with his shield, but was instead run through.  He fell, his lifeless eyes staring up at me, unseeing.  Phaidon.  It was Phaidon who saved me, but paid with his own life.

I roared and attacked the warrior who had slain him.  I sliced into his neck and he fell.  I turned toward Phaidon, but another enemy attacked and then another.  I thrust and hacked with my sword and deflected blows with my shield, but more and more of enemy swarmed in.  They seemed everywhere at once.

I watched, powerless to help, as Hyperion was impaled with a sword.  In the next moment, Hermokrates fell, his neck hewn nearly through.  Everyone I loved was dying.  I nearly gave up, but I could not see my brother or Draco.  I did not know if they were near or far, but I needed to fight on to increase their chances of escape.

I slashed and hacked, but it was not long before I was surrounded.  I turned in every direction, brandishing my sword to keep my enemies at bay, but strong hands grabbed my arms.  My sword fell from my hand.  A warrior stepped in front of me.  He ripped off my helmet and looked down at me as others forced to me my knees.  I struggled against them, but it was to no avail.  This was it.  This was my end.  Odd, the prophecies of the Pythia were known for coming true, but not this time.  I had lost all those I loved, I was about to lose my life, but I had not found the desire of my heart.

I was ready to die.  I had lost everything.  There was no longer any need to live.

I did not show fear.  I stared into the eyes of the warrior in front of me as he pulled back his sword to deal the death stroke.  He was my age.  I wondered how many friends he’d lost this night.  With a scream of rage, he swung his sword at my neck with all his might.

“STOP!”

The blade halted a hands width from my neck.

I turned my head to see the warrior who had spoken.  He was tall and well formed, but I could not make out more in the dark.  Of his features, all but his eyes and mouth were hidden by his helmet.  He faced off with the warrior who had come within a heartbeat of separating my head from my body.  They stared into one another’s eyes.

“This one is mine!  You may have his armor, but I claim his life.  You will not sway me.  I will have him, one way or another.  Chose now!”

He spoke with such authority that other warriors stepped back.  I thought for a moment that the two might fight over possession of me, but the first relented.

“As you wish.  He is yours.  I care not, but I will have his armor.”

He and the others quickly stripped away my armor.  I did not resist.  If I did, I would likely still die, although perhaps that would be best.  The fate that waited for me might be worse.  Phaidon, my friends… all dead.  I would never see my home again.  Alastor and Draco were gone from my life, whether they lived or had been killed.  I had lost all that I loved.  I could not help but cry, but no one could tell in the pouring rain.

The warrior who had claimed me roughly pulled me to my feet by the hair, bound me by my wrists and then pulled me away from the carnage.  He did not communicate with me and I did not dare to speak.  I didn’t resist as he took me past the wall and toward one of the camps of the enemy.  Whenever other warriors were near, he shoved me roughly.  Once, I fell and he and the other warriors laughed at me.  I dreaded what was to come and wished I had died with my friends.

When we were within the camp, he pulled me inside one of the tents.  There, in the torchlight, he took me by the chin and examined my face carefully.

“Nikias.  It is you,” he said.

I stared at him in shock.  Who among the enemy might know me?  No one, except…

Alkides

Chapter Sixteen

“Alkides,” Nikias said as I pulled off my helmet.

I smiled at the boy I had met during the games, the boy I could never get out of thoughts.  He was a man now, but I could easily see the boy within the man.

“I heard you singing and playing your lyre.  Your music came over the wall on many nights and I was not alone in listening.  I knew it was you.  There was no mistaking the voice that won a crown at Delphi.”

“It was me.”

“Are you hurt?” I asked, as I unbound his wrists.

“No, but Phaidon…” Nikias began to cry.

“I am sorry.  I know what he meant to you.  I, too, lost a good friend tonight, but we have no time to mourn.”

I began stuffing my belongings into packs as quickly as I could.

“I am sorry for the loss of your friend.  I lost all mine tonight and perhaps my brother and Draco as well.  I do not know,” Nikias said.

“Perhaps they still live.  Only a handful were killed.”

“I guess I am not much of a warrior then, if most escaped and I did not.”

“You and those near you were unlucky, that is all.”

“What is to become of me?” Nikias asked as I shouldered my packs.

“I will save you if I can.  You must trust me.  Come.  We do not have much time.”

“Do not risk yourself for me.”

“I will risk everything for you, Nikias.  Everything.  Always.  Come.”

I checked outside, the camp was still in some confusion.  We did not expect the Plataeans to try to break out and had been caught unawares.  Most of our forces and those of the Spartans were attempting to track down the many who had escaped.  I led Nikias out beyond the camp and toward Thebes, a direction the Plataeans were unlikely to choose.

I feared to be challenged, but I would not allow Nikias to die.  I would not lose him, now that I had found him.

We walked through the camp with purpose.  Skulking would only serve to draw attention.  To look as if we were seeking escaped Plataeans was our best bet of escaping ourselves.  We walked past many warriors and no one paid attention to us.  I was known, and while Nikias was not, the mere fact he was with me caused the eyes of others to slide over him as if he was not there.  We made it through the camp unchallenged and slipped into the countryside.

The sounds of camp and the warriors searching for the Plataeans began to subside.  I began to feel more at ease, but then a form surged forth out of the darkness.

“You found one.  Why have you not slain him?”

I did not know his name, but the Spartan warrior drew his short sword as he took in the situation at a glance.  I shed my packs before he could strike and placed myself between him and Nikias.  He struck, but I evaded him with the quickness of a man who could not afford to lose.  I thrust where I knew the Spartan armor was weakest and he cried out in pain.  With a slash I separated his head from his shoulders.

“Come,” I said.

“Let me take the packs,” Nikias said.

I nodded.  I was burdened with armor and weapons.  He was not.  It was unlikely we would run across anyone from my city now, but the Spartan proved we were not out of danger.

We hurried on in case any had heard the sound of the fight.  I was sorry to kill the Spartan and hoped the gods would forgive me.  He was an ally and I had struck him down.

We moved through the night.  I knew the land well, having run here often in the endless dull days of the siege.  Waiting was all there was or had been for as long as I could remember.  We filled our free time as we could.  I used mine to run as if I was once again training for the games, thinking how Nikias may well have run on the same trails.  Even in the dark, with only an occasional bolt of lightning to reveal the terrain, I was able to pick our way through the pouring rain.

We continued until dawn, then hid ourselves within the scrub and lay exhausted.

“We’ll rest here for a while.  I don’t think we need fear discovery now and at last the rain has stopped.”

I struggled to sit up so that I could take off my helmet.  I was so tired it was not an easy task.

“Let me help you,” Nikias said.

He had to be as tired as me, or nearly, but I gratefully accepted his help as I shed the burden of my armor.  Once it was off, we both collapsed upon our backs again.

“What have you done in saving me, Alkides?”

“Tossed away my life as I knew it.  If I am lucky, I will be considered lost among the dead.  If I am not, I will be cursed as a deserter and labeled a coward.  Either way, I can never return to Thebes.”

“Oh, Alkides.  You should have let them slay me.”

“That I could never do.  I was not sure it was you who was about to die.  I could not see your face clearly enough, but I could not take the chance.  I have watched for you since we came to Plataea, hoping against hope to find you.  Then, when I heard your voice singing, I knew you were inside the city.  I have waited long for my chance to save you and have had much time to consider the cost.  When we were boys, competing in the games, I wanted to be with you.  I wanted you for my own, but many things kept us apart, as you know well.  As the years passed, I prayed to Apollo for a way to find you and be with you at last.  Losing everything is not too high a price to pay to be with you.”

“I wanted to be with you, too,” Nikias said.  “I’ve loved you since I first saw you.  I…  The words of the Pythia were true.  Pain, darkness and despair awaits you.  Only by losing all you love will you find the desire of your heart.  It’s you, Alkides.  You are the desire of my heart.”

I closed the distance between us and kissed Nikias.  He melted into my kisses and then began to cry.  I wrapped my arms around him, held him close and let him cry.  Nikias had lost so much.  He had lost all.  Even my own losses were nothing compared to that.

“I am sorry for all you have lost and hope with all my heart that Alastor and Draco are alive and well, but I am also happy because you are with me at last, Nikias.  I received no prophecy from the Pythia, but you are the desire of my heart, also.”

The rain stopped.  When we had the strength, we stripped and spread out our clothing to dry.  Helios slowly brightened the sky and the light and warmth was welcome.  For the first time, I saw Nikias’s adult body in all its glory.  He looked like the statue of Apollo in Thebes.  His body was perfection itself.

We drew together and kissed again.  I felt his phallus harden along with mine.  My need for him grew.  I wanted him, all of him.

“I want you to take me, Alkides, take me as if you were my erastes and I your eromenos.”

Nikias’s voiced trembled as he spoke.  I smiled at him.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Nikias nodded and turned onto his stomach.  I climbed on top of him and pressed my phallus between his buttocks.  I pressed against him and then slipped inside.  Nikias hissed, then moaned as I sank inside him.  The sensation was absolute bliss.

Nikias whimpered and moaned as I slid inside him over and over.  I thrust harder as lust consumed me.  The moans and groans of Nikias urged me on.  My phallus began to throb and I released my seed inside Nikias.  I felt him shudder and tremble as he moaned and knew he released his as well.  I remained inside him for a few moments more, then pulled out and rolled onto my back.

Nikias turned onto his back and took my hand.

“I am truly yours now,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, smiling at him and twirling a lock of his long hair in my finger.

“Do you think less of me now?  It is considered unseemly for an adult man to allow himself to be penetrated as if he was a boy,” Nikias said, the concern in his voice evident.

“I could never think badly of you, Nikias.  What is between us is between us alone.  No one need know what we do when passion takes us.  There are no rules for us in this, Nikias.”

He smiled, then yawned.

“Let us sleep now,” I said.

I expected I could not sleep, but I was so exhausted by battle and lovemaking that I fell almost instantly asleep and dreamed no dreams, or if I did dream, I did not remember.

Day had not yet ended when I awakened.  Nikias sat naked beside me, his knees drawn up to his chest.  He stared in the direction of Plataea, although it was too far to see his city.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“Phaidon, Hyperion and Hermokrates.  Yesterday morning, they were all alive.  Now, they are all dead.  Everything is changed overnight.  Phaidon died to save me.  Did I tell you that?  He leaped in front of me to take a spear meant for my chest.  His last act was one of heroism.  His last act was for me,” Nikias said.

“He was a great man, and a kind one.  This I know from our brief meeting in Delphi.  He knew I desired you.  I could see it in his eyes.  He was proud to be the erastes of a boy others wanted for their own,” I said.

“He did so much for me and I did so little for him.”

“You underestimate yourself, Nikias.  You underestimate the value of your smile, your kisses, and your very presence.  I have no doubt he considered he got more out of the relationship than you.  Last night, I gave up my home and my life in Thebes, where I am honored.  I did it without hesitation because I would rather have you than all that.  I am sure that Phaidon believed giving his life for yours was a bargain.”

“He should not have done it.  You should not have given up all that to be with me,” Nikias said.

“It was my decision to make, and it was a decision that required no debate.  I had long to think upon it, as I said, but I’ve always known I would give up everything to be with you.  Phaidon gave up his life so that you could live.  I am sure he did so without hesitation.”

I leaned in and kissed Nikias.  He kissed me back, which led to another round of lovemaking.  Soon, I was inside him, the most beautiful boy in the world.  He gave himself to me freely and I felt him release his passion even as I seeded him once more.

After we finished, we dressed.  My armor and weapons seemed of little use now, and yet we might have need of them in the coming days.  Our future was uncertain, but I did not care as long as I was with Nikias.

“Where do we go now?  Athens?  I fear it will be no refuge.”

“No, we must avoid Athens.  It is besieged, not unlike Plataea and it is filled with illness.”

“We cannot go to Thebes, and certainly not back to Plataea.”

“No.  There is war over most of Attica.  There is no safe place for us here.  Delphi.”

“Delphi?”

“There is no war there.  No one will attack the home of the Pythia and risk the anger of Apollo.”

“Can we?  I have a special love for Delphi and not merely because I won crowns there,” Nikias said.

“I have always been drawn to Delphi as well.  Delphi it shall be.  We shall make our new life there, but to do that, we must get there and the road will likely be dangerous.  Even in times of peace, travel is a risk.”

“Neither of us fear danger.”

“True, and it is the journey never started that takes the longest, so let us set out.  There is much time before darkness comes again and the further we are from here, the better,” I said.

“I will carry the packs again since I am not weighted by armor,” Nikias said.

I did not argue.  Nikias was now a warrior, tall and strong.  He could easily bear the burden and we would need what I had so quickly packed.

“All roads will be dangerous, so we will avoid them as much as we can.  We are lucky we set out in the direction of Thebes last night.  As you know, Delphi is beyond it, far beyond it,” I said as we began our long trek.

“How about the sea?”

“It will be no safer, but we will most certainly make part of our journey by sea.  We cannot reach Delphi by land alone.  I know the lands near Thebes in every direction and can keep us off the few roads and tracks that exist.”

We had slept through much of the day, but the heat was still intense.  I carried my helmet.  I intended to part with it and my armor soon.  I could trade them for supplies and I had something in mind for Nikias, something useful.

“I wish we were traveling to Delphi in happier times,” Nikias said.

“Such as when we were boys and competing against each other?”

“Yes.  If the world had not changed, we could still compete.  It seems unfair.  We are both eighteen now.  Think how fast we could run.”

“As I recall, you ran fast enough to beat me when you were thirteen.”

“Once, only once.  I actually suspected you were Apollo in human form.  Did I ever tell you that?” Nikias asked.

“I do not remember.  I do not think so.  I do not think Apollo would appreciate the comparison.”

“Why not?  Gods can take any form they wish.” Nikias chewed on his lip for a moment.  “I have always been truthful with you, have I not?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I once saw Apollo in your form, on the slopes above Delphi, at the very spot where he slew the great serpent.”

“You met him?” I asked, astonished, but with not the slightest suspicion the words of Nikias were untrue.

“Yes, he came to me, disguised as you, and then took another form, an older beautiful youth.  He spoke to me, he kissed me.  He took me and told me I was his Ganymede for the moment.  Afterward, he told me about his battle with the serpent as we lay together on the grass and then he left me.”

“I thought I was fortunate to find you last night and save you from death, but I do not think it was fortune.  I think Apollo guided me to you.  Something drew me to that spot.  I knew not what at the time, only that I knew I must be there, but now I think I know,” I said.

“Then we have yet another reason to be thankful to Apollo.  When I am able, I will make a great offering to him,” Nikias said.

“We will make a great offering,” I said.

Nikias nodded.

“I knew you were special, but I did not know you were the beloved of a god.”

“I think that is saying too much and placing me too high.  I was one boy among many that Apollo fancied and took for his own for a short time.”

“Perhaps you were one boy among many to Apollo, but he still chose you.”

“He told me our time together had to be short, or else it might arouse the jealousy of Zeus.”

“Yes, or another god.  If Apollo showed you too much favor you might have ended up like Hyacinth.”

“I cannot think of myself in such company,” Nikias said.

“I can.”

All knew the story of Hyacinth, a Spartan prince of remarkable beauty who became the lover of Apollo.  Other gods desired him, but he chose Apollo, and Zephyrus, the god of the West wind, was so jealous he blew the dart of Apollo off course so that it struck and killed Hyacinth.  Apollo tried to heal him, but failed.  Apollo wished to join him in death, but was immortal and could not.  He created a flower, the hyacinth, in his memory.

“I think Apollo has succeeded in not showing me too much favor.  I am more grateful to him than I can express that we are at last together, but the cost is steep, for us both.”

“True, but having paid the price we need not fear the anger of any god.  Surely, none would think we have received more than our share, and yet, I have yearned for you so deeply, even a thousand times the price would not be too much.”

“You will turn my head and make me conceited if you keep saying such things,” Nikias said.

“No, not you.  The greater part of your beauty comes from your inability to comprehend your own beauty.”

“I know that I am good looking, but many are.”

“Yes, but you do not know how beautiful you are, even after a god chose you for his own.”

Nikias shrugged and I smiled.  I truly loved him.  I had since I’d first set eyes on him when we were boys.  Now, we were together.  Despite everything, I was happy.

We walked on, keeping parallel to the road, which led to Thebes.  Nikias no doubt knew this land as well as I, but the farther we travel from Plataea, the more we would pass into territory familiar to me alone.

This was a land of wild olive, grasses and brush.  It was not what one would call lush, but most of Hellas was rocky and mountainous.  It was the mountains that hindered travel, cutting off one town from another.  Travel by sea was generally faster and easier, even though the distance was often much greater.

“What will your people think of you?” Nikias asked as we trekked on.

“They will think I am taken or slain most likely, even though they will not be able to find my body.  None will dream that I would simply leave as I have done.  I am too loyal to my city and have far too good a life there.  If they do discover I have fled, I will be considered a coward and a traitor, as I have said, but I think there is little chance of that.”

“Perhaps you should not do this, Alkides.  You can still go back to that life.  I think Sparta and its allies will defeat Athens.  Life will be good for the Thebans.”

“No, I do not want that life any longer.  I would much rather be with you.  My life in Thebes has been nothing more than a long wait until I could be with you, Nikias.  I feel the connection between us as powerfully as you, perhaps even more so.”

“What about those you leave behind?”

“I will miss my friends, but I have no family.  My mother died while trying to bear my father another son shorty after we returned from Delphi.  The baby did not survive and my father died two years ago.  I have always refused to own slaves, so I took in a family and they have taken care of me in turn.  I have left documents with the temple of Apollo leaving everything to them.  They will mourn me, and for that I am sorry, but all that I had will be theirs.  When I can, if I can, I will send word that I live, but that they must not speak of it.”

“I am sorry about your family.  I know what it is to have no parents.”

“Many do.”

“True enough.  Few live to great age.  We have likely lived half our lives already,” Nikias said.

“Yes, but think of the lives we have led.  We have both had our sorrows and pains, but few get to experience what we have and now we set out on another adventure.  Perhaps we will encounter the Cyclops like Odysseus.”

“I’d rather not, thank you,” Nikias said with a laugh.  It was the first time I had heard him laugh since I spotted him on the battlefield.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, and I am all for adventure, as long as it doesn’t involve battling beings many times our size.”

I pulled Nikias to me for a moment and wrapped my arm around his neck.  It was good to finally be with him.

Our journey continued uneventfully for many days.  We passed through the lands I’d known since I was a boy and then beyond.  I turned us in the direction of the sea before the hills turned into mountains and we continued on and on, walking for long hours.  We mostly traveled from before dawn until the heat of the day became too much.  Then, we rested, slept in what shelter and shade we could find and then set out again in the evening, walking far into the night for as long as we could see by moonlight or starlight, or as long as our legs would carry us.

It was on one of our morning treks that we encountered our first real trouble.  We were set upon by bandits and caught mostly unaware because we thought ourselves far from any well-trod path, but it was not so.  We were in lands unfamiliar to us and had wandered onto a main route, even though it was a track so faint it could only be recognized as such by those who traveled it often.  We were surrounded by four men in a moment, but we were not easy prey.  I had my sword.  Nikias had no weapons, but one of the packs sufficed as one.  He struck an attacker, knocked him down, seized his sword and killed him, all within moments.

I fought with two at once with my sword, but these were not warriors.  They were wayward men who got by on what they could steal from the unsuspecting.  I have no doubt they would have sold us as slaves if they could have taken us, but one of their number lay dead already and others were wary. They fought bravely enough, but soon I reduced their number to two.

I am proud to say that Nikias slew his second foe, leaving only one.  He would have run, but I hewed his head from his body before he could retreat.  I would rather have let him go, but feared doing so, not knowing how many more of his kind he might bring down upon us.

“I don’t much like killing,” Nikias said.

“I do not either, but sometimes it is necessary.”

“I still feel guilty.”

“You shouldn’t.  This was their doing not ours.  Would you have slain them if they’d merely passed by us, doing no harm?”

“Of course not.”

“Exactly.  They attacked us.  We did not attack them.  If we had not defended ourselves, we would now either be dead or captives soon to be sold into slavery.  They gambled and lost.”

“I know you are right, but I still do not feel good about it.”

“You should never feel good about killing.  Let’s see what they carried of value.  It may be of use to us.  A sword and dagger will certainly be of use to you,” I said.

We searched the dead, taking their weapons.  There were no coins, which we could have definitely used and nothing else of use or value.  When that was done, we set out again.

Our journey was happily uneventful for some days after that.  We were not waylaid by bandits and we left battles further behind us.  Mostly, there was walking, lots of walking and I did not mind because Nikias was by my side.

“You know, when I thought I was about to die, I thought the prophecy of the Pythia was wrong.  Death was upon me and yet I had not obtained the deepest desire of my heart.  I found that very disappointing, not that I was about to die, but that I had waited for something that would never come, that I would never even know what it was I had waited for through all the long years,” Nikias said.

“The words of the Pythia are never wrong.”

“I should have held onto to that, but it’s not so very easy when one expects to be slain in the next moment.”

“I do not believe Apollo will blame you for that.”

“Instead of death, my deepest desire stepped into view, although I did not recognize you.”

“The same prophecy applied to me, but I think I am the luckier because I did not know it,” I said.

“Are you sorry everything has changed so much?”

“No.  I am sorry for those who have died.  I am sorry for what has been destroyed.  I am sorry there is no peace, but I am not sorry my world has changed because now I am with you.”

“When we met, who would have guessed we would end up here?”

“You speak as if our journey and our lives are at an end.  They are not.  We do not yet know how our story will end.”

“Except that we will die.”

“Hopefully, together,” I said.

***

“There it is, Nikias, another day or two and we will reach the shore,” I said as the Gulf of Corinth came into view at last.

“I am ready for it.  Walking day after day is not my favored activity.”

“The rest of the trip to Delphi will be quicker.”

“It has been a long time since I traveled by sea.”

“The Gulf of Corinth has its own dangers, but it is not so dangerous as the wider sea.”

We stopped on the rise so that we could look to the sea while we took a rest.

“Did you have many long marches as a soldier?” Nikias asked.

“A few, but the Thebans did not have to travel far for their battles, not like the Spartans.  Plataea and Athens are not that distant.”

“What are the Spartans like?  I have never thought to ask before now.”

“They are tough and excellent fighters.  All they do is train for war, even from a young age.  I think they like battle because it breaks up the tedium of training.  They eat the most horrible food.  I tried it and they laughed at the expression on my face.  I think their food is the reason they are so willing to die.”

Nikias laughed at that.

“They are magnificent men when it comes to physical strength and prowess, but they lack knowledge in all things beyond war.  They value dancing, singing, art and poetry little.  They build almost no great temples and those they do build are plain and dull, like them.  From the description I had of Sparta, I think that if someone in a thousand years were to judge them by what they leave behind, they would think them of little note.  I pity them.  Their life is no life to live.”

“That is sad.  I cannot imagine a life in which I could not create.  I am happiest when I am fashioning or painting a pot, creating a song in my mind or singing it.  To live only to fight is, as you say, no life to live.”

“I would rather be myself than a Spartan king.  We are luckier than the lot of them and I am thankful,” I said.

We set out again.  The growth grew lusher as we neared the sea, but it was still a wild, untamed country where few traveled.  There were no roads, but then that was true of most of Hellas.  Mostly, there were tracks, muddy in winter and dusty in summer.  I preferred the wild.  Here we were among trees, bushes, and even an occasional rose.  It was all beautiful to me, but not as beautiful as Nikias.

At last, we reached the sea.  We stripped and swam in the warm salt water.  Soon, we wrestled like boys and that led to a round of lovemaking, right there upon the shore.  There was no one to see, other than the wildlife.  I was tired and also hungry, but so very happy.

We dressed and followed the shore.  In a day’s time we came upon a village.  There, we traded my helmet and what weapons we’d taken from the bandits that we did not need for food, supplies, a few coins and passage to Delphi.

Our vessel was little more than a fishing boat, but large enough to sail within the gulf.  The captain was gruff, the crew his son, a boy only a few years younger than us.  We helped as we could, which made the captain less grumpy.

We glided through the water as the shore passed on our starboard side.  The land on the other side of the gulf was well within view because the gulf was narrow.   The remainder of our voyage was a matter of a handful of days now, but soon we had come as far as we could by sea.  We bid our companions ‘farewell’ and set out on a track that climbed toward Delphi.

“This is bit different from our last trip to Delphi, isn’t it?” Nikias asked as we started up the steep incline, no more than a trail, that led from the shore to join the actual road to the city.

“Yes, I came with my father and others from my city.  We were not at war.  I was a boy, hoping that the boy I’d competed against during the Isthmian games would come for the Pythian games,” I said.

“I was with my brother, Draco and others from my city.  I was excited to finally see Delphi, and I hoped the beautiful boy I’d first glimpsed at the Isthmian games would come.  I do not think I realized how good my life was then.”

“I don’t think we ever do.  Our life is good now, but do we truly know it?  I know, we have both experienced tragedy and loss and have uncertainty hanging over our heads, but was it not the same when we were boys?”

“I suppose you are correct.  I grieve for my friends and my city and I wonder if Alastor and Draco are dead or alive, and if alive, if they are well, but I am glad to be here with you.  I am excited that we are returning to Delphi together, although I do not know how we will make our way.”

“Our old lives are over.  We start new lives together now.  We will find a way,” I said.

The trail changed into a path as it was joined by other ways and then later into a track.  It was some hours before we reached the actual road and even this climbed steeply.  We were finally back in familiar territory.  We had both come this way before, but not together.

The light failed and we moved off the road and into a small grove of trees to stop for the night.  We were well accustomed to camping now, and truly it was not that different from living in camp.

We shared the bread and cheese that were part of the bargain struck for our transportation through the gulf, then we made love under the stars.  One night like this with Nikias was worth losing the life I had known, and we’d already had many such nights.  I hoped we would have many more.

We slept together and awakened together the next morning.  We then set out, eager to reach Delphi.  We traveled by day now.  Our need for secrecy was long past.  We were no longer warriors aligned with cities.  We were travelers on our way to the center of the world.

Our spirits brightened at the prospect of returning to the city.  The traffic on the road was much less than when I’d traveled this route before, but that was to be expected.  No games were in progress and this was not one of the times the Pythia was available for consultation.  I had no doubt there were always lots of visitors to Delphi, but nothing like there was during the games.

“There, I see the city,” Nikias said after Helios had traveled some distance across the sky.

I looked and he was correct.  I could just make out the upper portions of homes or shops.  We were near.

Nikias smiled at me and I returned his smile.

“I wish my friends had been able to come and see the center of the world,” Nikias said.  “I described it to them, in detail, but they were never able to travel to Delphi.”

“They saw it, in their minds, thanks to you, Nikias.  You brought Delphi to them.”

“As well as I could, anyway.  I was lucky to have such friends.  I wish they had lived.”

“Do you know the story of Cleobis and Biton?” I asked.  “Statues of them reside in Delphi.”

“I do not believe so.”

“They were the sons of Cydippe, the priestess of Hera.  In their home city of Argos, they were noted for their devotion to their mother and their athletic prowess and strength.  During a festival honoring Hera, their mother was called to the temple, but her ox team could not be found.  The brothers took up the yoke and pulled their mother to the temple.  Cydippe begged Hera to grant her sons whatever was best for mortal men as a reward for their piety.  The boys went to sleep that night and never awakened.”

“Death was their reward?” Nikias asked, skeptically.

“Freedom from toil, pain, worry, struggle and old age was their reward.  I know you wish that your friends had not died, but in doing so they escaped the pain of our world.”

“That makes their deaths seem better, but I cannot help wishing they were with us now.”

“Then I wish it, too,” I said.

Nikias rewarded me with one of his smiles.

“We will need a place to stay,” I said, as we walked on.

“I’ve been thinking about that.  My brother, Draco and I became friendly with Chares, who provided us with lodging.”

“Yes, but we have few coins and what we have to sell will not last long if we spend it for fine lodgings.”

“I do not mean to stay there.  I mean to ask him where we can find cheaper lodgings and perhaps a way to earn what we will need.”

“That sounds like a wise course,” I said.  I had not thought of such a thing myself, but then Nikias was more streetwise than me.

Soon, the city as I remembered it came into view.  Last time, I entered as a competing athlete from Thebes.  Now, I entered as a homeless youth of eighteen.

It had been some years, but Nikias remembered the way to his former lodgings.  He knocked upon the door and a young man opened it.

“I am Nikias of Plataea.  My city hired rooms for me and my brother some years ago when I competed in the games.  This is Alkides, who also competed in the games.  We come seeking information and advice.”

“You won two crowns,” the young man said.  “I am Euphranor, son of Chares.”

Nikias smiled.  “Yes, I remember you now, you have grown.”

“As have you.  Come in.  I am sure my father will wish to speak with you.”

We were not only ushered inside, but upon being presented to Chares, were soon seated and offered wine, bread, cheese and olives, which we gratefully accepted.

Nikias told Chares our story, the main points that is, and asked where we might find inexpensive lodgings and how we might earn our way here.

“I have lodgings for you myself, less grand than here and therefore far less costly, but comfortable, although small.  As for making your way, have you forgotten you won a crown for singing and playing the kithara, Nikias?  There is your answer, unless you have lost all your skill, which I doubt.”

“The problem with that is that I no longer have a kithara,” Nikias said.

“You will have.  I will sell my armor and buy you one,” I said.

“Alkides, that armor is an heirloom of your house.”

“Such things mean nothing now.  My heirlooms are the memories in my head.  I need nothing more.  My fighting days are over, unless Delphi needs me.  I will have no need of armor.”

“Alkides…”

“Providing you with a kithara is my part.  It is you who will support us both at first, until we can establish ourselves here.  I will listen to no arguments.  I will sell or trade my armor.”

“I know where you can get a good price,” Chares said.

“I knew coming here was a good idea.  I was sure you would guide us,” Nikias said.

“Having one who has won a crown in my lodgings brings honor and prestige to our home and business,” Chares said.

“Alkides has won many, far more than my two,” Nikias said.

Chares demanded a full account of my competitions and victories.  His sons and others listened intently.

“Delphi is fortunate that you have both come to reside here.  You will be welcomed, I assure you.  Our city is great, but not large and you will add both to our number and greatness,” Chares said.

After we had eaten, Chares took us to the accommodations he would provide for us.  It was in a busier and less peaceful, but not disreputable, part of town.  He led us to a small and unassuming house of a single room, furnished with a cot stuffed with grasses, a table and two stools.  That was all, but the price was more than reasonable.

“I know the space is small, but there is also a little courtyard,” Chares side, leading us through the open doorway at the back of the room.

We entered a very small walled courtyard formed by the walls of surrounding homes.  It was so small that an olive tree growing in one corner provided shade for the entire space.  I liked it.  This would be my home with Nikias, at least for a time.

“This will do very well, don’t you think?” Nikias asked.

“Yes, it’s all we need to start over again,” I said.

“I have no doubt you will soon be moving onto to better accommodations,” Chares said.

We thanked him and he departed.

“Do you really like it?” I asked when Chares had gone.

“Yes, and more important, it’s affordable.  All we really need is a place to sleep and make love,” he said.

His words caused my phallus to stir, but we had business to attend to if we were going to get on with our lives.

“Come, let us go and sell my armor.  Then, we can purchase a good kithara for you.”

“I am still not comfortable with selling your armor,” Nikias said.

“What need do I have of it here?  Besides, we are one now.  What is mine is yours.  What is yours is mine,” I said.

“But I have so few possessions, only the clothes that I wear.”

“Possessions mean nothing.  You have yourself.  You possess talent and athletic abilities that won you crowns in this very city.  You are the very essence of manhood that is the goal of all men.”

“You see too much when you look at me, Alkides.  I am not all you think.”

“You are all I think and far more than you think.”

“I am not going to win this argument, am I?” Nikias asked.

“No, because I will never give in.  In this, I am right and you are wrong.”

Nikias smiled and shook his head.  “Come on then.”

We followed the directions provided by Chares to a dealer in arms and other metal creations.  Upon entering, it was immediately obvious that this was no mere blacksmith, but the workshop of an artist.

“How can I help you?” asked a bearded man who had moments before been hammering out a delicate design upon a bronze caldron with the smallest of hammers.

“I have armor to sell.  You were recommended by Chares as a fair and honest man,” I said.

“That I am, one does not run a successful business through cheating and dishonesty and such a man isn’t much of a man at all.”

“Agreed.”

“Let me see what you have.”

He carefully examined the breastplate and other pieces.

“This is very good work, old, too.  This was made by someone who knew what they were doing and took pride in their work.  It has seen action,” he said, noting the few dents and the scratch created by a blade.  The breastplate had saved my life the day it was scratched.

“Yes, this is armor passed down in my family.  I have worn it in battle, as my father and his fathers did before him,” I said.

“Are you sure you want to sell it then?”

“Yes, for friendship I have given up my old life and seek to create a new one here.  The armor is no longer of use to me, but what you give me for it will be.”  I gazed at Nikias and he smiled at me.

We agreed on a price, more than I thought I’d receive and Nikias and I departed with more than enough for our needs.

“Now, on to our next task,” I said.

We walked through more streets of Delphi.  This was not the sanctuary with its treasuries and temples, but the actual city where most of the living and working took place.  Here were the homes of those who lived in Delphi the year ‘round.  There were bakers, shops that sold cloth, potters and sellers of most everything one might need.  This was a much smaller place than Thebes and yet it seemed to offer as much as my former home city, perhaps because the world came to Delphi to consult the Pythia and to watch or participate in the games.

We found our way to a seller of instruments and found it was attached to a music school.  We had such a school in Thebes, but for most, any musical instruction was provided by the family or an erastes.  Only the wealthiest could afford the luxury of a professional instructor.

“Welcome, gentlemen.  How can I serve you?” asked an older bearded man with white hair.  I noted that he eyed Nikias, but then many were drawn by his beauty.

“We are looking for a kithara for Nikias, a fine one,” I said.

“Nikias, you say?”  Now, the old man turned his full attention on my beloved.  “You are of the proper age.  Nikias of Plataea, who won a crown for his hymn to Apollo when he was but thirteen?”

Nikias looked surprised.  “Yes, that is me.”

“It is a great honor to have you in my establishment.  I will show you my finest, one suitable for a victor.”

He led us to what looked like an exceptional instrument to me, but my knowledge of such things was limited.  It was certainly beautiful, made of inlaid woods and was a work of great artistry.  The old man handed it to Nikias.

“The true measure of any instrument is how it sounds,” he said.

Nikias took a seat on a stool, positioned his hands and began to play.  The space was immediately filled with music the likes of which I had not heard since Nikias played during the Pythian games.  The owner of the shop stood enraptured.  Others came in from the courtyard and soon there were many where before there were only the three of us.

“Marvelous.  You have talent worthy of the gods,” the shop owner said when Nikias stopped.  The others agreed and only reluctantly departed.

Nikias inclined his head.  “I’m a bit out of practice,” he said.

“That is certainly news to me.”

“I’m afraid this one is above our means at present,” Nikias said.

“It is costly as is appropriate for such a fine instrument, but a fine musician needs the best.”

The cost was greater than our funds when stated.

“We’ll have to earn more and return,” I said.

“We could buy one less costly,” Nikias said.

“No, you must have this one.”

“Take it.  Pay what you can and pay me the rest when you can.  I have no doubt whatsoever that your services will be greatly desired.  I would ask you to become an instructor, but that is beneath you.”

“I think I would enjoy teaching a boy to play, if he’s truly interested in learning,” Nikias said.

“There is one.  He is very dedicated and has no little talent.”

I stood back as Nikias and the owner of the shop struck a bargain, one that made my eyes widen at the sum mentioned.  It far exceeded the usual rate charged, according to the shop owner.

“Come back tomorrow.   I will know by then if his father is willing to pay the price.  He is a fool if he does not, and he is no fool.  Give me no coins now, but take the kithara with you.  You may pay for it out of our earnings.”

“Thank you,” Nikias said.

“No, thank you,” the old man said and obviously meant.

We stepped out of the shop and into the street.

“I have never owned such a fine instrument,” Nikias said.

“It suits you.”

“He is a master craftsman.  It’s beautiful, but the sound, that is where the true artistry shows.”

“Such things are beyond me to even comprehend,” I said.

“Only because you have not tried.”

“I leave music and singing to you.  Our funds will last much longer now.  Let us buy bread, cheese, olives and figs to celebrate.  We also need to purchase a few utilitarian pieces of pottery since we don’t own so much as a bowl.”

“Yes!” Nikias said with a grin on his face.  “It is a dream come true, setting up a household with you.”

“I know that I have dreamed it,” I said.

It was not difficult to find what we needed.  We stopped in at a potter’s last of all.  Nikias turned sad when we entered, no doubt thinking of his own workshop where he, his brother and their slave worked, but soon brightened.

“I like this very much.  I like the holes on the rim so that the bowl can be suspended,” he said, holding and examining a small shallow buff colored bowl decorated only by simple lines on the thick rim and the inside and outside of the bowl.

I left it to Nikias to pick out what we needed.  We purchased enough that we were furnished with a slave boy to help us carry it all home.

The boy was perhaps thirteen and followed along behind.  He was well dressed, so he was likely well treated, as most slaves were, except those who worked in mines.  That was a fate worse than death.  Fortune could turn anyone into a slave.  For some, it could actually be an improvement, but not for those who toiled in the mines.  Those slaves worked until they died and likely looked forward to death.

We were nearly at our door when the boy stumbled and lost hold of one of the bowls he carried.  It broke in three pieces.  The boy looked up at us, clearly frightened.  He did not know us and likely expected to be backhanded.

“It is okay,” Nikias said.  “My brother and I made pottery and I cannot count the pieces I broke.  Think nothing of it.  We will say nothing to your master.”

“Thank you, sir.”

After we reached our home and the boy carried his burden inside, we sent him on his way with a handful of figs to eat on his way back.

“Now, we can eat like civilized men.  We have what we need,” Nikias said.

“Perhaps, minus one bowl,” I said with a smile.

“I truly have broken many, but I pitied the boy.  Do you think he’s mistreated by his master?”

“No.  I think he feared we would punish him.”

Nikias nodded and began arranging our purchases on the table.  He soon had bowls hanging from the wall and cups set up in a built-in recess.

We sat down to eat.  Along with the other items, we had purchased wine, not very good wine, but good enough.  My cup was glazed black with no decoration.

The room was dim inside, even with the door open and the light coming in from the courtyard.  At night, it would be pitch black except for the small pottery lamp we had purchased and it would give out poor light.  Even so, I was content because I was with Nikias.

Chapter Seventeen

Nikias was off to teach his lesson.  I headed for the gymnasium where I had been hired to teach boys the various athletic arts.  When the leaders of the town discovered I was the winner of multiple crowns, I was offered a position.  I was as pleased to accept as Delphi was to have a victor instructing boys in their gymnasium.

During this time of day, I was one of only a spare handful of adults allowed in the gymnasium.  Boys had to be carefully guarded.  The penalty for abusing or misusing one was severe, even up to death, but that did not stop some from trying.  Boys were generally escorted to the gymnasium by a slave or traveled in a pack together.  Except for the very few who had good reason to be there, adults were forbidden during the part of the day set aside for boys.  I believe it was the same in most cities.

The gymnasium here was nearly as large and fine as the one in Thebes.  The boys under my care soon entered, nude, of course, and took up positions on the starting grooves carved into the stone set at the edge of the courtyard.  The first instruction on most days was in running, especially sprinting.

The boys at this time of day ranged in age from about nine to twelve.  Later, the older boys, aged up to nearly eighteen would have their time.  This younger lot was fiercely competitive, but then we were a competitive people.

Space was limited in the courtyard, but there was room enough for short races.

“Take your starting positions,” I said, then walked first in front and then behind the line of boys.  “Georgius, do not extend your right foot back so far.  You cannot properly push off like that.  Heron, extend yours more, yes, that’s it.  Remember what I told you.  The correct beginning stance is key.”

I moved to the side.  Each of the boys was tensed and ready.

“Go!” I shouted and they bolted toward the finish line at the other end of the courtyard.  I easily outpaced them so I could judge the end of the race.  Two boys crossed at nearly the same time.  I announced the winner.  There was no argument even though the two boys had no way to know which had actually won.  Only I was able to discern it from where I stood.

“How do you always beat us to the finish and by so much, Alkides?” Athos asked.

“Because he is a man and a victor in many games,” Georgius said.

“Yes, and the length of my legs alone gives me great advantage.  Your time will come.”

I remembered being a boy, wishing to be like the older youths I saw who were stronger and faster, yearning for a time I could make my own decisions.  I knew telling these boys they would someday be older, stronger and faster would not help them much.  To a boy, one year was a thousand.

“How old were you when you first won a crown?” Marios asked.

“Ten, but you are here to train, not hear tales about me,” I said.

“One more question only then, how old were the boys you raced?”

“They ranged in age from ten to seventeen.”

“You beat youths nearly men when you were ten?  Are you descended from a god or a hero? Athos asked.

“Sorry, you have used up all your questions.  Now, let me show you how to run the diaulos.”

“What is the difference from running the stade?  Running is running,” Georgius said.

“You will never win a prize in the games if you believe that.  Each race is different.  Each requires a different strategy and a different use of your body.  Pay attention and I will show you how to win a prize.”

That held their attention and stopped the endless flow of questions for a while.  Did I ask so many questions when I was their age?  I did not mind their questions when they pertained to their training, but a boy’s mind wandered widely.

I focused on running exercises until the boys grew too tired, we then spent the rest of our time on the discus.  I was not the expert with the discus that I was with running, but like most, I was well versed in the discus, javelin and wrestling.  I was quite capable of instructing the boys in all of them.

When the time came, I dismissed the young boys and prepared for the older group that would soon arrive.  I had never considered becoming a trainer, but in the short time I had been training boys, I found that I enjoyed it.

After my day at the gymnasium was done, I walked through the streets of Delphi alone.  My life was not as I imagined it.  I had thought to live out my life in Thebes in the home I had grown up in and among all those I knew so well.  I had yearned for Nikias since I first caught sight of him, but he was more a dream than a reality.  He was a desire that could never be satisfied and so, although I longed for it, I never expected any of this.

When Thebes decided to try to convince Plataea to ally themselves with Sparta instead of Athens, I hoped that I might see him again, but fighting had broken out and then began the siege.  I made sure that I was there.  It pained me to see the city of the boy I loved besieged and yet the only way I could possibly help him was to be present.

I doubted I would see him, but I felt as if I was meant to be there.  Had I not been, Nikias would now be dead.  Instead, he was here, in Delphi, with me.  I did not regret the choices I had made.  I did not bemoan the cost.  I was with Nikias and that is all that mattered.

Nikias was not home when I arrived, but my day was shorter.  The gymnasium was given over to adults in the early evening so my work was done then.  Sometimes, I remained to train, but often I came home, tired from all the hours in the sun.

This was the life we had settled into.  With both of us earning a good income, we could have moved to nicer lodgings and yet we did not.  The truth was, our home was little more than a place to sleep and make love.  We were more often than not out and about.  Word of the amazing talent of Nikias had spread and he was greatly desired for all types of get-togethers.  It was a good thing he had taken on only one student because he would not have had time for more.

***

Once well established in Delphi, we made the decision to return to training.  Neither of us had done so for quite some time and both of us were eager to run again.

On our first morning of running, we arose before the sun, and, because the day would turn hot soon after the sun came up, wore the bare minimum of clothing, only enough to cover our most private parts, although athletes actually had no parts that were truly private because we competed nude.  Even so, now that we were no longer boys, it would not have been appropriate to run through the town naked.

“Do you realize, we have never trained together?” Nikias said as we stepped out our door into the cool early morning air.

“That is because we have never lived together before.  It would be hard for those from different cities to train together.”

“True enough.  I have missed running with Phaidon.  I have missed running.”

“I have missed it, too.  Let us start,” I said.

We ran down our little street that joined a larger one, and then on through the city of Delphi.  It was much like other towns with homes, shops and workshops, but existed in the shadow of the sacred district and the Pythia.  Most cities of good size had at least one temple, but in Delphi, Apollo’s oracle dwelled and the god himself had been spotted from afar by many.  My Nikias had even met him.  I was honored that Apollo chose my beloved for his own, even for just a little while.  Indeed, that was all the better.  Had he taken Nikias away to Olympus on that day, he would have been lost to me.

We ran side by side through the city, which was quiet at this hour.  Even the cocks were not yet up.  We were not entirely alone.  A very few were out and about, but precious few.

We passed into the sacred district and I thought how lucky we were to live in this place.  Thebes had temples and monuments, but it was not the center of the world.  In Delphi stood the treasuries of many cities, filled with dedications to Apollo.  There were items within the treasuries from the most significant events of the history of Hellas.  It was as if time itself was stored here.

So many came here for the games or to consult the Pythia and so many of those who came were known throughout the world.  Anyone and everyone of importance eventually came to Delphi.  It was as if the world came to us.

We passed statues of past winners of the games and I felt proud that Nikias and I were among them.  There was no statue of us here, but we had both won crowns.  Perhaps, if we trained long and hard enough, we would again.  My beautiful Nikias certainly could with his music and fine voice and I had little doubt he would be a terror in the stadium as well, once we were back in running shape.

We passed the Temple of Apollo and ran on, eventually passing the very stadium where we had raced as boys and where Nikias had finally defeated me.  It was a fair won victory.  As much as I wanted him to be victorious, I owed to my city, myself and even him not to hand victory to him.  He ran the faster and I was forever proud of him.

We left the last traces of Delphi behind and ran upon the slopes.  Somewhere up here, Apollo had appeared to Nikias and had taken him as Zeus had Ganymede.  When Nikias first told me I did not doubt it in the least because not only was Nikias always truthful, but his beauty was such as a god would desire.

This is not at all where I imagined my life would be at this point, but I was content, more than content.  I could not have imagined that I would actually get to be with the one I loved as Nikias and I were together now.  I was very sorry for his great losses, but was equally glad to have him here with me.

I could tell I had not kept up with my training.  I did not run as easily as I had when fit.  Nikias seemed to struggle a bit, too, but truthfully the only times we ran together had been in races, which was quite a different thing.  Before, we had each trained with another.  Now, we trained as one.

We ran well up and across the slopes above Delphi and then down again.  By the time we ran back through to the city to our home, Helios had risen and begun to travel across the sky.  The heat had intensified and we were well pleased to stop, go inside and prepare for our day.  That initial morning run was but the first of many.

***

“Did you ever dream that someday we would own a home together in Delphi?” Nikias asked as we gazed upon the villa we had purchased.  It was on the edge of Delphi, elevated enough to give us a view over most of the city and also a grand view of the Temple of Apollo and the sacred district.

“Dream, yes.  Believe it would come to pass, no.”

We stepped inside into what could best be called a reception room, larger on its own than the small dwelling we had inhabited until now.  Passing through it, we entered a large courtyard, with not one, but four olive trees, a small pool of water in the center and much greenery and other vegetation among walkways and benches.

Doorways opened from the courtyard into the various rooms, not great in number, but more than enough for our needs, far more than enough; a room for the storage and preparation of food, another for sleeping and three more for whatever we wished, six in all with the reception room.

“This is larger than my home in Plataea,” Nikias said.

“It is not so large as mine in Thebes, but quite large enough.

“What will we do with all this space?”

“We will come up with ideas.”

Indeed, I already had one as a surprise for Nikias.

“Taking care of it will require much help.”

“We will get help,” I said.

“Not a slave.”

“No, not a slave.  We will hire someone.”

“Someone who can cook,” Nikias said.

“Yes, that is not a talent either of us possess in great measure.”

“We also have little time for it.”

“I will ask around.”

Our new home had been purchased fully furnished; the owner had died and the heir had no desire to live in Delphi.  There was everything we needed here, and more.  We had also brought along our few belongings from our previous lodging, which was precious little since that small house was furnished, too.

We walked through all the rooms together.  The wide doorways allowed much light into the interiors, more than I expected.  I was sure we’d spend most of our time in the courtyard, but being inside would be made more pleasant with the light.

We settled into our new home and came and went together and apart.  Soon, it seemed to me as if we had lived there together for a lifetime.  How odd was that I thought so little about my previous life in Thebes.  It was as if that had not been my life at all, but was instead the life of another.

***

“Don’t be mad,” Nikias said as he entered the courtyard.

“Why not?  What have you done?” I asked suspiciously.

“I bought something.”

“What?”

“He’s waiting in the entryway.”

“He?”

“Yes, and he is supposed to be an amazing cook.”

I stared at Nikias, astounded.  We had specifically stated we would have no slaves and he’d gone out and bought one!

“It will be okay.  Meet him and hear what we have to say before you explode.”

I nodded because I was too angry to speak.  How could he do this?

“You can come in now.”

A young man, little more than a boy actually, entered.  He was handsome with black hair and brown eyes.

“Alkides, this is Priam.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Priam, as for you,” I said, turning upon Nikias.

“Hear me out.  I spoke with Priam before purchasing him and discovered he is an amazing cook.  I also agreed that we would free him, a process I have already started, and pay him a monthly sum, as well as room and board.”

“This is acceptable to you?” I asked Priam.

“Freedom and a good paying job, doing what I love?  Most certainly!”

“What of your family?  Don’t you wish to return home instead?”

“I am all that is left of my family.”

“Ah,” I said, my anger much diminished.

“Priam and I agreed he will come and go as he pleases and when he wishes to set out on his own, he may do so,” Nikias said.

“I am sorry for becoming angry.  I should have known you would not suddenly change.”

“You know me better,” Nikias said.

“True.  Welcome, then, Priam,” I said.

“Thank you, Alkides.”

“Come, and I will show you the rooms available.  You may have your pick,” Nikias said.

I smiled as I watched the pair disappear into the first of our unused rooms.  The expense of purchasing a slave and then freeing him was considerable.   It would have been far more inexpensive to go out and hire a good cook, although doubtless difficult.  How like Nikias to think of another and not count the cost.

Soon, Nikias rejoined me.

“You aren’t angry, are you?” he asked.

“Not anymore, although you might have consulted me first.”

“There was no time.  Another was looking Priam over, an ill-favored man who had a cruel look to him.  I feared he would mistreat him.”

“Very well, all is forgiven.”

“Priam insisted on preparing us something to eat.  He has departed to purchase supplies.  He deemed what we have on hand insufficient for a good meal.  I told him he could take this evening to settle in, but he insisted.”

“I like him already.”

Priam returned later and disappeared into the kitchen.

It was a good long time, so long that Helios had retired from the sky, before Priam came out carrying two large plates, filled with cooked vegetables, including onion and fish.

“See what you think of this,” he said.

I took my plate, tasted it and looked at him in wonder.

“I have not tasted better.  How did you do this?” I asked.

“It’s all a matter of seasoning.  There are common herbs that most do not know that add complex flavors.”

“Join us,” Nikias said.

“Are you certain you wish it?”

“Yes, in our household, you are not a servant, you will be treated like family,” I said.  “You will eat with us always.”

Priam beamed as if he couldn’t believe his luck.  He was lucky.  I knew of no one but us who would purchase a slave only to free him.

Priam joined us and began to tell us of himself.  He had come most recently from Naxos, but had lived his early years near Troy, the very Troy of the Trojan War, and was named for that long ago king and had been told his family was related.  His village had been raided by seafarers, his family killed and he taken captive, only to be sold and purchased by a man from Naxos who had his elderly slave teach him culinary skills.  The older slave soon died and Priam took his place, but soon, his master was carried off by sickness and he was sold by one of the sons.  He ended up here, in Delphi, where Nikias found him.

We told him of ourselves, our cities of origin and what had brought us to this place.  We talked long after we finished eating, so long we all departed for our beds.

With Priam, our lives took on a new rhythm.  Nikias and I set out each morning when there was only a hint of color in the sky.  By the time we returned, Priam had a meal prepared for us.  He made much use of a large stone griddle above a small flame to make large flat cakes of grain and also of eggs.  This was far better fare than what we had prepared ourselves, which was mostly bread leftover from the day before and cheese.

Nikias and I then set out for our respective tasks, mine concerned with training the young and his with music.  Some days, Nikias had no need to depart.  Instead, he remained home, created and practiced his music.  In the evenings, we were all together again.  Nikias often departed once more to perform.  When possible, I accompanied him.  When not, I remained home and busied myself while waiting on his return.

I spent much of my free time in the evenings working on something for Nikias.  I let Priam in on my secret and he helped me when he was not otherwise occupied.  Nikias knew I was up to something because I made him promise not to enter one of the rooms.  I wanted it all ready before I revealed it to him.

Preparing was not an easy task and required finding the proper workmen and suppliers.  Slowly, it all came together.

One evening, as the three of us ate yet another wonderful meal, this time fish cooked with vegetables and herbs and a wonderous flavored bread prepared by Priam, Nikias peered at me.

“What are you grinning about?” he asked.

“It’s finished.”

“What is?”

“Your surprise.”

“Oh, Priam already told me all about that.  He described every detail.”

“I didn’t, I swear!” Priam said.

“You are not being truthful, Nikias.”

He laughed.

“In all this time he has refused to give me the least hint and ignores my guesses.  I even threatened to reveal his secret sweet bread recipe that he holds so dear and he would not budge.”

“That wasn’t much of a threat since you do not know the ingredients.”

“I tried to bluff him.  It did not work.  He is too intelligent.”

Priam grinned.

“When do I get to see?”

“As soon as we are finished eating.”

Nikias pretended to eat with impossible speed until it made him laugh.

“This is too good to rush.  I can wait a bit more,” he said.

Not too long after, we had all finished.

“I will go light the lamps,” Priam said.

He disappeared behind the door and reemerged several long moments later.

“It is ready.”

“Come see,” I told Nikias, then took his hand and led him in.

Priam and I watched his face as he took in his surprise.  He quickly turned his face to us.

“You did this for me?” he asked.

“Who else would have the talent to use it?”

“Thank you!”

Nikias grabbed me, pulled me to him and kissed me upon the lips.  Priam had seen such things between us before.  Each time he smiled, so I knew we did not have to worry about disapproval from him.

“Thank you, as well, Priam,” Nikias said, taking his hands and smiling at him.

“I merely assisted here and there.  Alkides did nearly all.”

“Workmen did much of the work.  I have not the knowledge or skill.”

“A workshop.  I cannot believe you built me a workshop.  It looks much like the one I left behind.”

“It is meant to do so.  If you ever wonder if I listen when you speak, this is proof that I do.”

“I wondered about your many questions.”

“Now you know why I was so inquisitive.”

“I love it.  I cannot wait to make something.”

“I did my best to gather everything, but I am sure you’ll need to find a few things more before you can begin.  My knowledge of pottery production is slim.”

“It will not take me long.  When I get going, I will make anything you need for cooking, Priam.  I will not have time to produce items to sell, but I shall make things for our own use and perhaps for gifts.”

I had not seen Nikias quite so happy in a long time.  All my efforts were worth it.

***

A boy nearly knocked Nikias and I down as we walked through the sacred district, but instead fell flat upon his butt.  I thought that I recognized him and, sure enough, one of the fishermen from whom we often made purchases came huffing up behind him, grabbed him by the ear and pulled him to his feet.

“I am very sorry.  This one’s only talent is causing trouble.  He certainly does no work.  I was robbed when I purchased him.  A good worker indeed.”

“I detest the smell of fish!  I know nothing about that business.  My father made pottery.”

His statement drew the immediate attention of Nikias.  I also noticed the fish seller did not backhand the boy, a fact that I liked.  I did not like the mistreatment of slaves.

“Well, I am not a potter.  I am sorry to disappoint you.”

“Your father was a potter?  Mine as well,” Nikias said.

“Yes, in Rhodes, but by misfortune on the sea he was lost and I became a slave.”

“I lived in Plataea.”

“Come on, you!  I’ve wasted enough time to chasing you.  Keep it up and you’ll wear a chain, although I detest having to resort to such a measure.”

“Hold on,” Nikias said.

He had that look in his eye.

“No,” I said.

“I will pay for him.  Please, Alkides.”

I groaned.  I could not say no to Nikias and he knew it.

“Perhaps he is not even for sale.”

“Oh, he’s for sale all right.  I’ll be happy to let you have him for the price I paid and it was a good price, too.  I thought I was getting a bargain.  Instead, I was cheated.  Be warned, you’ll get little use out of him.  He’s not worth his keep.”

“You are an honest man.  How much?” I asked.

The price was good for a slave of his youth and beauty.

“We will take him,” I said.  “We will bring the money to you before Helios finishes his journey across the sky.”

“You may take him now, then.  I’ll be happy to be rid of him.  I know of your reputations.  I know you will not cheat me.”

He immediately turned and walked away.

“Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you!  You have my endless thanks.  He was not cruel but he and everything about him smells constantly of fish!” said the boy.

I laughed.

“What is your name?” Nikias inquired.

“I am Perseus.  My father said we are the sons of the Perseus who founded Mycenae.”

“An excellent name.  I am...”

“You are Nikias, the famed musician who won a crown and you are Alkides who won many crowns for running events.  I have heard your names many times since I have arrived.”

“And, here I thought we went unnoticed,” I said.

“I will do the best I can for you.  I am not lazy.  I merely cannot stand that smell of fish.”

Nikias smiled.

“Come with us,” Nikias said.  “We did not purchase you to work for us.”

“Oh, well.  I will serve you in that way then.  I am sure a slave, and especially me since I have little value, is far cheaper than a whore.”

“That is not our interest in you either,” I said.

Perseus looked up at me, confused.

“Why did you purchase me then?”

“Your turn,” I said, looking at Nikias.

“Because your father was a potter.  Mine was a creator of fine pottery.  So was my brother.  So was I.”

“But you are a musician, one of the best!”

“Thank you.  I love music.  I love to create.  I am as happy making pottery as I am composing, playing and singing.”

“I love to make pottery!  I am good at it, too.  I was going to take over my father’s shop, but...”

Nikias squeezed his shoulder.

“Then, that is what you will do.  Alkides built me a workshop so that I could create pottery in my spare time.  I shall teach you all that I know.  At one time, pottery created by my family rivaled that made by the best in Athens.”

“I am very pleased to be your slave then.”

“You will not be for long,” I said.

“Oh?” Perseus said, his happiness evaporating in an instant.

“We intend to free you.”

“But, I have done nothing to earn...”

“There is no need.  Neither Alkides nor I shall have a son.  We hope that you can join our family.”

Tears welled up in the eyes of Perseus.  He hugged Nikias around the middle and then me.

“Why do you not take wives if you wish a family?”

“We do not want wives.  We want each other.  Do you understand?”

“Oh.  Oh!”

“He understands,” I said.

“That is... unusual,” Perseus said.

“Unusual and unacceptable to most, but that is what we choose,” I said.

We walked on in silence for a while as Perseus no doubt thought about what we had told him.   A relationship between a boy and a man was acceptable.  One between two men far less so.  Thankfully, as victors in the games, Nikias and I could go against the norm with more freedom than most.

“Here is your new home,” Nikias said as we entered and walked to the courtyard.

Perseus looked around as if he could not believe his luck.  Priam approached from the kitchen, looking perplexed.

“We will have one more for the evening meal, permanently.  Meet the newest member of our family,” I said.

“You’ve been shopping again?” Priam asked, looking at me with a smile.

“We have.”

“I am Priam.  I am very glad to meet you.”

“I’m Perseus.”

“Come.  Let’s go see your room,” Nikias said.

“I have my own room?”

“Oh yes.”

“You two go ahead,” I said.

“He is stunning.  He must have cost you a fortune,” Priam said.

“He is nice to look at, but no, he was owned by a fisherman, who was glad to be rid of him.”

“Troublemaker?”

“No, shirker.  He detests the smell of fish.”

“He is lucky he did not have a master less kind.  Many would have beaten him to make him work.”

“True, but he will no longer have to worry.  We will free him, as we did you.”

“I must return to my work.”

“Need any help?”

“I’d rather you not.”

“What are you trying to say, Priam?” I teased.  He did not like interference in his kitchen, especially mine.

“It is what I’m trying not to say.”

I laughed as he departed.

I had a good feeling about Perseus.  Nikias was obviously delighted.  So was I.  All men wanted a son.  We could not produce one between ourselves, so we had purchased one.  It was an excellent solution for all of us.

Epilogue

On a rare evening when we were both free, Nikias and I walked through the city and into the sacred district.  We passed the treasuries of the great cities, the statues of heroes and athletes and paused outside the Temple of Apollo where we had made an offering soon after our arrival in thanks for leading me to Nikias in time to save his life and for bringing us safely to Delphi.  We had made additional offerings in thanks for Priam, Perseus and our prosperity.  We were both quite certain that Apollo’s hand directed our lives.

We walked up past the temple and past the theatre where Nikias had performed and won his second crown.  We continued on to the stadium, where we had competed as boys and where Nikias had finally managed to best me.

“It is so oddly silent now.  Where there were the voices of a multitude, now there are only the sounds of cicadas and birds,” Nikias said as we gazed out over the stadium.

“It was in a stadium such as this that our life together truly began,” I said.

“At the Isthmian Games, where I mistook you for a god,” Nikias said.

“Which only proves you are not good at recognizing gods in human form.”

“You so far surpassed all others you seemed like a god to me.”

“No, I was merely a boy the gods gifted with swift feet.”

We took a seat in the empty stadium.  Nikias took my hand and held it.

“Are you happy here with me, in Delphi?” Nikias asked.

“Yes, and I will be happy wherever I am, so long as you are there.”

“Even after losing so much?”

“Yes.  You have lost more.  Are you happy?”

“I am.  It seems wrong to be so happy when so many of my friends died, but each of us has only a little time here.  We cannot waste time on sorrows.  Even our time together is short.”

“We have much to be happy about.”

“That is very true.”

“What will happen when one of us dies?  It will happen.  Someday, only one of us will be left,” I said.

“Perhaps we will be lucky enough to die together, like the twins you told me about on our journey here.  If not, whichever of us is left will have the memories of our time together to relive.  If you live longer than I, know that I want you to be happy.  If you find that happiness with another, I will be content.”

“I wish the same for you, if you survive me.  The less time you spend in sadness, the better I will be pleased.”

“We also have Perseus.  He will always be a son to us.”

“Could you have imagined that when we raced against each other in this place?” I asked.

“I would not have dared to dream if I had.  I would have feared the jealousy of the gods for such prosperity and happiness, but we have paid dearly for it.”

“We lost all that we loved,” I said.

Nikias squeezed my hand and smiled at me.

“Until the day one of us dies, we will make the most of our lives together.”

“We most certainly will,” I said and kissed Nikias upon the lips.

Table of Contents

- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Epilogue