Eleutheria

XXVIII

XXVIII

“Stop moving!” Kyros snapped, accentuating the irritated statement with a smack to the back of Erasmos's head.

“Ow,” Erasmos glared over his shoulder at his healer. “You're supposed to be fixing my wounds, not giving me more. And that stuff stings.”

Nikia laughed. “Well, your attitude is back. That's progress.”

As the three men tried to work together – or against each other, depending on how you saw it – Hypatia stood back and watched them with quiet eyes.

Erasmos had his match today. Rounds in the games could not be rescheduled for anything; not weather nor illness, and especially not for injuries sustained during the games or training. Nothing could delay this match and the only thing they could do was try their best to fix Erasmos and numb his pain enough that he couldn't feel it without effecting his mind.

They had arrived early at the arena, as usual. Erasmos had already eaten and was back under the not-so tender hands of Kyros to try to bandage the wound. As far as Hypatia could understand it, Erasmos had ripped the muscle in his back during training. The way he had turned had torn his wound open but, more than that, had split his muscle like a piece of wood with an ax through it. The pain was unbelievable and the healing time for such a wound was far longer than they had right now. He wouldn't be at full strength for this round, he wouldn't be at full strength for the next round if he even made it through this one. The ripped muscle was also going to prevent him from wielding a weapon with his dominant hand which meant that he had to use his left from now on. He promised he could, but Hypatia knew he wasn't as skilled with it.

All of them were now on high alert, working hard to make Erasmos's task as easy as was possible with such a grave wound. Hypatia couldn't delay the fight, and neither of them was willing to drop out at this point. They had to soldier on.

Galen was off now in the tunnels, looking for Iros. He was going to bring back a list of the injuries that the archon's slave had that might aid them. At this point in the games, all of the slaves had their fair share of injuries. Hypatia was certain though that Erasmos's was the worst of them. That didn't mean though that there wasn't a disadvantage to them as well.

Hebe was with Sostias, as usual. The broken slave served as inspiration to Erasmos. Though his hands were beyond repair, he had taken to learning to fight with his feet. As if seeing Erasmos's determination to continue had also made him want to as well, Sostias had begun training this morning with his legs. If he couldn't use his hands, he said, he would learn something else. Seeing him sweating, a few of his own wounds open and bleeding a bit from the workout, filled Erasmos with more than a little pride and determination.

Sostias was also sporting a wound to his back identical to Erasmos's before the rip. He was giving his own tips on how to fight with his non-dominant hand and with smaller weapons. Together, they were trying to work out the best way to fight crippled the way they were.

Anaxos was there as well. He was busy mixing something in a goblet that bubbled threateningly and that Hypatia did not envy Erasmos for needing to drink. Because he could not work on the muscle that was injured directly, he would have to do it indirectly. He was making a concoction that would relax Erasmos's muscles. It would hamper his fighting ability, true, but not so much as the pain from having his back torn in twain would. He was still working his fingers on the muscles around those though. The extra load from doing what the torn back muscle usually did would make them tense and sore and likely full of knots that needed to be smoothed away.

Eutropia and Hebe were laying out Hypatia and Erasmos's clothes. Chara was with Pammon's daughters, having taking a liking to them and being quite happy to care for them. As far as Hypatia understood, they were in the stands preparing Hypatia's seat for her.