The Sparabara Series

Prologue

Thermopylae, 480 BC.

Avadun spun his spear at the organized horde of the so-called Spartans, fighting off the Persian soldiers that disembarked from their ships reaching the beach. They were assembled in a shield wall fighting relentlessly against the Persian might. Avadun thrust his spear into the darkened sky, while the storm crackled behind him. The Spartans were waiting like feeble sheep. To be slaughtered. Two days of resistance had passed since the Persians had set their eyes on the fabled warriors of Greece. The cowardly Athenians ran away from their city, and only the Spartans, were the remnants of that failure that now stood against them. They represented the pride of Greece. The pride of Greece they were, for they were clowns in front of the Persian Empire.

Avadun and his men traveled a long mile from Susa, leaving their wives and sons. They weren't going to give up this second chance that Ahura Mazda had granted them. Revenge on the Greeks. Those pompous Greeks thought they were the best. The most refined. The most well mannered. They would learn what Persian sword and shield would be. And they would never forget it. Avadun had not forgotten how the Greeks had spilled his grandfather's blood and hung his body across the mountains of Ionia.

A reminder to the Persians that they should never dare to cross the Greeks. Avadun spat. Today the Greeks would suffer the same fate as well. They called themselves Greeks. Greeks? A simple name for a band of pathetic city-states that had nothing better to do than to fight each other. It was Greek agents that had betrayed his father, befriending him in the city of Tyre before his body was eaten and ravaged by wolves. The Greeks had shown no pity then. They had laughed like merciless dogs.

Today was a day the Spartans would never forget. Avadun banged his shield. The troops roared, desperate and lingering, ready to destroy the Greeks that had corrupted and infiltrated their empire. Rain poured from the heavens of Ahura Mazda. The Phoenician ship paved up and down a slow path among the mighty waves. Making ready to disembark on the shores of Thermopylae.

A wave splashed onto the vessel, some men flying into the distance taken away by the impact of the crashing waves. The skies darkened like demons flying with their horses across the sky. Only the angels of Ahura Mazda would come and vanquish them. The mountain path came into clear view as Avadun saw the other ships making their way towards the beach. The other ships carrying the Persian Army disembarked on the shore, directly proceeding to the top of the mountain. The Bloodsoaked Spartans waited for them, . A desperate last stand. A desperate pathetic attempt. A small contingent of the so-called Spartans. Men with bronze armour and large shields. Avadun smirked. If he'd ever cross an Assyrian with a spear, or a Phoenician, then these Greeks were no different. They stood with bright red plumes on the top of their helmets. Red and gold. Those were the colours of Xerxes himself. Avadun would bring the loot of the Spartans to the King. They would be discarded like rotten trash.

Avadun turned to his young friend who stood beside him clasped with shield and spear. Ara. The young man had been in an arranged marriage in Caramania before he was whipped into service. The wind howled against the young man's ears. Avadun roared over the sound of the heavy wind. 'Long way away from home isn't it boy?'

Ara nodded. 'Yes. Considering that we travelled over twenty thousand miles, I'm nervous. Those Greeks are crafty people. Wouldn't trust any of them if I was the last man on the earth.'

'What did the Greeks do to you Ara? To them, we are foreigners and invaders. And in their eyes, we will always be that.'

Avadun noticed the ship getting closer towards the shore. He turned to face his men.

'Persians! You have travelled miles across mountains and deserts. Every one of you is a father, a husband, a grandfather, a son. For years the Greeks have meddled into our affairs, pondering Persian against Persian. When our Great King commands, it is the will of Ahura Mazda himself. Have we not conquered the world? Have we not built an empire that has lasted for four hundred years? We come now to conquer and finish the Greeks once and for all. They say we make slaves of the Greeks.'

He paused as the men chuckled with each other. Avadun briefly smiled. 'Slaves? Greek fights against Greek. Greek fights with us against his city state. Now! Summon your courage men! By Ahura Mazda, I will have every Spartan on that mountain killed! They may be warriors, but when they see our culture, they will submit! They will surrender. And they will cower! To me men! When we disembark, we run up that hill and await. Spare none! Cut them down! The Empire will be victorious! For Persia!'

The men rattled their shields and cheered, whooping and taunting the Greeks. Avadun held his grip on his spear tighter.

The Greeks would dearly regret this day. And he would kill Leonidas himself.

It was hours later, that their ship was reaching the shore. Avadun and his men were desperately waiting to get out of the ship. Standing too long was tiring them already. The ship hit the beach with a thud. Avadun and his men jumped from the ship, landing onto the shore. They marched in an organised manner as hundreds of archers jumped from their disembarked vessels. Ready to pour a storm of fire upon the tiny Spartan force.

'To me! Single file rank!' Avadun shouted. Marching up the hill alongside thousands of Persians, the Spartans came into view on the top of the hill. Avadun turned to see the archers marching behind them to stop. The officers bellowed as they let loose a storm of fire arrows upon the outnumbered Spartans. They were cut down like kennel dogs. Rain poured down onto the hill. Fire raged across the mountain pass. The Spartans were slaughtering Persian after Persian, killing and sparing none. Avadun admired their bravery, but it was a foolish hope. No matter the beauty of their shields and helmets, they were nothing in front of Mazda's sons. Leonidas slashed a Persian in half with his sword, while banging a Persian with his shield. The King shined wearing the brightest golden armor that Avadun had ever seen.

'Shield wall!' Avadun roared.

His men arranged themselves into a tight formation. 'Hold your courage men! Spartans slaughtering Persians isn't a new phenomenon. We've dealt with the barbarian Scythian tribesmen, the Eastern barbarians, a bunch of bronze warriors should be the last thing in your mind! For are you not the King's men!'

His men roared with him.

Avadun thrust his spear at Leonidas. 'The Spartan King wishes to make a last stand to rally all of Greece to his side. I say, we drench his blood! We will kill him before he even has a chance to do so. Are you with me brothers? For our sisters, for our daughters, for our wives. We will destroy Greece if we have too!'