章 3: The chains of pain

I looked at the man intently, assessing his demeanor and trying to gauge whether he could be trusted. "What's your name?" I asked, hoping to establish some rapport.

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "Niketas. I'm here because I couldn't pay my debts. The bastards sold me off to the army as a slave."

I nodded, understanding the bitterness in his voice. "What do you know about the training? What can we expect?"

Niketas leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's brutal. They want us to become fodder for the front lines. The training is similar to the Spartan agoge. They'll starve us, beat us, push us to the brink. We're expected to steal food to survive, but if we're caught, the punishment is severe."

Before I could ask more, another slave nearby, a burly man with a wild look in his eyes, shouted, "Bullshit! It's all lies to break our spirits! They want us scared and weak!"

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone watching the ranting man. His eyes darted around, daring anyone to contradict him. "They think they can turn us into warriors with a few weeks of torture. It's a joke! They don't care if we live or die!"

Niketas sighed, shaking his head slightly. "He's not entirely wrong," he muttered. "But it doesn't change the fact that we need to survive."

I turned my attention back to him. "Do you understand what the guards are saying?"

"A bit," he admitted. "I'm Greek by origin, so I can make out some of their orders and conversations. I can help you with that, but it'll cost you a portion of your rations."

I paused, considering his offer. Information could be invaluable, especially if I was planning to escape. "Alright," I agreed, though inwardly I was already assessing Niketas. He was taller than me, with broad shoulders and a muscular build, though his strength was diminished by his current starved state. His dark hair was cropped short, and his eyes were sharp and calculating.

I needed to figure out if I could get away from him or fight him off if it came to that. For now, I would play along. Niketas might think he had the upper hand, but I was determined to learn as much as I could and be ready for any confrontation.

Niketas and I settled into a tense partnership, sharing information and resources. Each day was a struggle, filled with grueling training and harsh punishments. I stole food when I could, always careful to avoid getting caught. The threat of a beating loomed over every meal, every stolen morsel.

Despite the constant danger, a spark of hope flickered within me. The battlefield, chaotic and deadly, would offer the perfect opportunity for escape. And when that moment came, I would be ready. Until then, I would endure, learn, and prepare for the fight of my life.

The second week had arrived, and the nights had become a nightmare. The Spartans, finding no use for women in their army, decided to have their fun with the female slaves, treating them as property. It was sickening. The nights were filled with screams and sobs, as the women were sexually tormented, raped, and beaten.

Every night, I would lie on my bunk, hearing the horrific sounds echoing through the camp. The screams were seared into my mind, a constant reminder of the cruelty we were subjected to. Some of the male slaves tried to intervene, hoping to protect the women, but they were quickly beaten into a pulp by the guards. The Spartans showed no mercy.

I had gone to sleep one night, only to be jolted awake by the desperate, piercing cries of a woman. The sound was unbearable, filled with pain and hopelessness. I clenched my fists, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and rage. It was happening again, and there was nothing I could do.

The next morning, the courtyard was eerily quiet. The women who survived these brutal nights were often left broken, their spirits shattered. Many of them chose to end their own lives rather than endure another night of torment. The sight of their lifeless bodies was a grim testament to the horror we lived through each day.

Niketas and I exchanged a glance as we were herded out for training. His eyes were dark, filled with a hatred that mirrored my own. "This can't go on," he muttered under his breath.

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "We need to find a way out of here. Before it's too late."

The training had become a blur of pain and exhaustion. The guards pushed us harder, and the punishments for failure were brutal. My body ached from the constant strain, but I couldn't afford to show any weakness. I had to survive, to bide my time and wait for the right moment.

During a rare moment of rest, I turned to Niketas. "We need a plan. Do you know of any weaknesses in their routines? Anything that might give us an advantage?"

Niketas glanced around, making sure no one was listening. "They get complacent at night, especially when they're… occupied. We might have a chance then."

I nodded grimly, my mind reeling with the horrors I had witnessed. The women, dragged by their hair, kicking and screaming as they were abused by the Spartans. It was a sight that filled me with rage and helplessness.

"We wait until they send us off to war," I said

Niketas looked at me with intense disbelief, his eyes wide and his voice tinged with urgency. "Wait? Are you mad?" he hissed under his breath. "We can't just wait for them to send us off to die! We need to escape while we still have a chance. How are we going to fight off the guards, let alone enemy troops, if we don't even know how to survive out there?"

His words cut through me, stirring a mix of doubt and determination. He was right—we couldn't afford to wait indefinitely. But I knew deep down that rushing into an escape without proper preparation would be suicide.

"We need to learn," I replied firmly, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. "Survival isn't just about escaping. It's about knowing how to endure, how to fight when the time comes."

Niketas shook his head, frustration evident in his expression, but he didn't argue further. Instead, we turned our attention to the day ahead, where the grueling training awaited us once more.

---

The next day dawned with a harsh clarity, the sun rising over the Spartan camp with an indifferent glare. We were herded out into the courtyard, where the training grounds awaited us like a battlefield in miniature.

The training was relentless. We were put through a series of drills designed to push our bodies to the limit. Running laps, carrying heavy loads, and enduring punishing physical exercises tested our endurance. The guards barked orders, their voices harsh and demanding.

We were taught the basics of combat—how to wield a sword, how to parry and strike. The swordsmanship training was brutal yet methodical. Each movement had to be precise, each strike calculated. Sweat dripped from our brows, mingling with the dust kicked up by our movements.

I struggled to keep up, my muscles burning with exhaustion. Every mistake was met with a sharp rebuke and sometimes a harsh blow from the guards. The pain was a constant companion, driving me forward even as my body screamed for rest.

Niketas and I stood side by side, our swords clutched tightly in sweaty hands. He glanced at me, his eyes filled with determination. "Focus," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the din of training. "We need to learn this. It's our only chance."

I nodded, gritting my teeth as I swung my sword again and again, trying to master the movements. The weight of the weapon felt unfamiliar in my hands, but I knew that mastering it could mean the difference between life and death.

As the day wore on, the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows over the courtyard. The training continued relentlessly, pushing us to our limits and beyond. But amidst the exhaustion and pain, a glimmer of hope remained—that one day, we would be ready. Ready to fight, to survive, and to escape the grasp of our captors.

Niketas and I exchanged a determined look, our resolve unshaken despite the hardships. "One day," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "One day, we will be ready. One day, we will escape. And one day, we will pay them back for all the pain they've caused us."

He nodded solemnly, gripping his sword tighter. "We will endure," he affirmed, his voice steady with conviction. "We will learn everything they teach us, and then we will turn it against them."

With renewed determination, we returned to our training, each swing of the sword a promise to ourselves. One day, we would seize our freedom. One day, we would reclaim our lives. And until that day came, we would fight, we would learn, and we would endure.