Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

“Why didn’t your parents have more children?”
    “They did. My mother gave birth to two other sons.”
    I strain the wheat grains and dump them onto the stone to pound into gruel for bread.
    She looks confused but keeps adding wood to the fire below the three-legged clay oven.
    I explain before she figures out how to inquire. “Both times, my mother was forced to bathe the babies in pure red wine to test their constitutions, but the strong fumes only sickened the children and sent them into convulsions. My father brought each one to the Lesche for the elders to inspect. Both times my father came home empty-handed.”
    She stands up quickly. “What did they do with them?”
    “The infants were left to die in a chasm at the foot of Mount Taygetos.” I see her appalled look. “It was the sadness of both of my parents. My mother could never go near there. We would ride twice the distance to avoid the area on our way into the city. Not having a son in a Spartan household is an embarrassment. My mother didn’t want to go through the experience ever again, so there were no others.” Wanting to leave the thought behind, I ask, “Tell me of your family.”
    She goes back to chopping cabbage for relish as the water begins to boil. “They had to live in a state-granted house in Laconia which had two other families living in it. Each family occupied two small rooms. My mother had a half-Spartan/half-helot—”
    “A mothax,” I interrupt.
    She flinches at the sound of the word, but continues, “—a son, who was sent away to the Citizens’ Army, and we never saw him again. I was forced to marry a man at fifteen who was twenty years older. We had to live with my parents.”
    “Did you care about your husband?” Judging by the “forced” comment I gather she did not.
    “He had these disgusting big toes.” She starts laughing with her knife pointed up in the air. “I would look down and see these two, hairy, oversized toes, and it would make me sick.” She laughs so hard she has to look up. I laugh along with her.
    “Do you miss your family?”
    I drizzle the honey over the kneaded loaves, making golden glistening swirls.
    She glances up. “I miss my mother, but I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I can’t believe I’m this happy.”
    That night I make her practice running with me since the next day is the annual Festival of Naked Youths. We take our clothes off and sprint around the fields. Ever faster than Ophira, it is so much fun to hear her complain as she falls farther behind me. After racing, Ophira and I dance up on the cliffs to the rhythmic sounds of the ocean. This is something she does better than me, though. I sit back and watch her move, never needing music. I imagine steady, mysterious hip-drum beats, meandering abdominal harps, accented with the cymbaled climax of her delicate hands and expressive eyes. Even though she is a helot, she could’ve turned many suitors’ heads at the race tomorrow. It’s a shame I can’t bring her. Nereus is also forbidden, since Sparta punishes those who never married by not letting them attend any state events. I’ll have to brave it alone, but I’m sure I will win.

Chapter 3
    I strip my short, belted tunic off and rub oil all over until I shine along with all the other young men and women. We’ve been competing with each other since we were small: wrestling, throwing javelins, tossing discuses, and racing. Sparta believes that to make stronger men, you have to make the women who give birth to them stronger, and I’m glad for it. Once all the girls are oiled, we parade around and flirt with the boys we most admire. This is the time we can catch their attention and coax them into considering us for marriage. Many of the young men have been allowed a pass from their military school, Agoge, to compete.
    Even though I’m not light-haired, as most men cherish, I have the ideal female shape. I’m tall, almost as tall as a man, with long, thick legs that curve in taut muscle. My back and middle are powerful, with broad shoulders and strong arms.
    I am the racehorse of women.
    It’s my turn to wrestle, and I’m in the highest heat. I’ve already won the discus, javelin, and all three short-distance races. Although those were only against females, wrestling is much more challenging since I can compete with the boys.
    I pin the first two boys quickly by staying low and keeping my feet moving. I know I’m going to have trouble when