Eleutheria

VII

VII

Hypatia's eyes were on her scrolls again. She was very close to being finished with reading the series now. The ending in sight threatened to make her sloppy, make her skip over words, so she had to force herself to calm down and read the letters on the page properly.

The oppressive heat of the summer air was beating down on those in the courtyard relentlessly. Most had chosen to go without their tops simply for the sake of staying cool. Hypatia was also considering unclasping her peplos to catch some of the faint summer breeze. Her lady's maids had wasted no time in doing so themselves. They stood in the shade of Hypatia's tree, fanning her gently to generate more of a wind, while making sure to keep everyone present properly hydrated.

The warriors before her needed water to ensure they did not succumb to sun sickness. Erasmos was the only one that Hypatia made sure got as little water as possible, everyone else took long breaks in the shade between their turn at fighting the slave.

Hypatia was having him once again fight a never ending round of soldiers simply coming at him from any side at any time. The best guards in the household were attacking him without mercy. His body was sporting bruises and welts all over from the metal, hot from the sun, striking his exposed flesh. He was sweating, bleeding from a few falls and strikes that had done more damage than intended, and he was quickly tiring.

Hypatia's training session today was not limited to sword play. Every guard would grab a weapon at random – sword, spear, trident, shield, bare fists, whatever was available – and come at Erasmos. In the beginning, her slave had only his hands to defend himself. She had been very pleasantly surprised at how well he fought without a weapon. Since then, he had managed to relieve one of his opponents of their spear and was using it to great effect.

He was faster today than he had initially been. Though they had only been training together for a week and a half, he was getting better because of how hard she was working him. She was not kind, she gave him no mercy, and her training sessions were harsh. However, she danced just on the edge of being too dangerous and didn't go over.

When he wasn't fighting, he was pampered like a prince. Hot and cool baths to ease tired muscles, massages to prevent cramps, only the finest foods to keep a fighter strong, and quarters that were far more luxurious than the standard slave would ever receive. It was only here, in the courtyard, that Hypatia was a harsh mistress.

The loud crashes of men fighting echoed loudly through the almost still summer air. They had an audience by now. Members of the household – staff that was on break mostly – had heard about Hypatia's training of Erasmos and would come to watch when they had free time. They would bring food and water to the weary who fought, but mostly they just sat back to observe and be entertained by the struggle going on below.

Hypatia knew that they were taking bets on how soon before she caused Erasmos to collapse. They were all sure that she was being too hard on him, that she had no idea what she was doing. He was going to not only lose, but die in the first round, they said. She didn't need to hear them speaking to know they said it, gossip from the servants reached her ears easily through her maids who spoke to themselves when they thought she wasn't listening.

She ignored their whispers. They would all see soon enough. She swallowed her pride and forced herself to focus on training, on reading, on preparing for that horrid first round. Making it past that hump was the only thing she truly feared. So long as Erasmos could last through the first round, she was sure he could take her far into the games.

Even as she had that thought, she heard the crack that was the breaking of wood. She looked up to see that someone had brought a hammer to Erasmos's much abused spear and snapped the wooden pole in half.