Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

citizenship.
    “—or live with the helots down in Laconia.”
    “You’re not happy here with me and Alcina?”
    He looks at me quickly as I sit down across the table from him. “I need to be around helots my own age.”
    This strikes fear in both Ophira’s and my heart. He is our world. We don’t need anyone else.
    As soon as he leaves for bed, Ophira looks at me with shoulders shrugged. “He’s growing up, and with that comes his independence. He can’t stay with us forever on this farm. We’re going to have to find some safe place for him.”
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    Sparta’s armies are away so long that an elected magistrate of Sparta drives up to the house. Ophira and Theodon come running at the sight of the stately chariot. My thoughts jump first to Leander falling in battle, but then they heighten into the more likely fear of Arcen killed in agoge.
    The ephor says at the sight of me, “Be calm, Mother, we have news sent by the kings.” He holds his hands out to me. “Your husband and son are fine. This has to do with you and Sparta.”
    As soon as he walks into the house, he sniffs the air and with a thick grin asks, “Is that fresh bread I smell?”
    With only a nod, Ophira fetches the ephor some bread, and we all sit down at my table in silence as he quickly stuffs in the bread, still steaming.
    He finally explains, “Sparta’s men have been away at war for years, and normally, our men come back at breaks to provide Sparta with children.” He picks at one of his teeth and draws back to see what he found, obviously disinterested from continuous retelling. “But now there’s no time for breaks. We’re at war on every front, and the future of Sparta rests in our mothers’ hands.”
    We wait for him to continue.
    “Dire times are cause for dire actions, and the kings have instructed our Spartan women to go forth and procreate. Even half a Spartan is better than no Spartan at all. Our mothers must choose wisely. Pick the strongest, healthiest helot you can find.”
    He then eyes Theodon’s powerful physique with his steel-grey eyes. “Any mother who does not procreate within the next six months will be fined heavily. By order of the kings.” He bows his head to me, and on his way out, says to Theodon, “You’re aware that the Citizens’ Army takes full helots, aren’t you?”
    Theodon nods.
    “And you know it is the only way you can win your freedom? No one else can grant you that, since you belong to Sparta.” The ephor eyes me. “You fight in the army and you win full freedom and citizenship.”
    He turns and walks away, glancing back at Theodon’s perfect form one more time.
    Ophira and I look at each other and laugh. Later on, during our walk from the barn, Ophira points down to the helots working below and says, “How about that one?”
    Then she grabs my arm and points to another one. “What about him? Ahhh,” she cries out, “that’s a nice one there scratching his backside!”
    She giggles away as the swarthy helot digs his hand halfway into his pants, too far away to hear our peals of laughter. We fall over each other in fits. Theodon doesn’t think it’s so funny, and he walks back into the house without waiting for us.
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    I’m standing on my cliff, when the ground tremors just like it had so many years ago. I run for cover and watch as an old wind-beaten cypress splits in two. After the shaking ceases, a young child with strawberry-blonde hair emerges out of the torn trunk. She laughs like a nymph and claps her hand as I pick her up and spin her in the sea air.
    Waking up in the grey haze before the sun shows, I miss the child of my dream and wonder if this was the result of the ephor’s visit. I realize I do have to take the order seriously, though, since they’ll fine us heavily and Leander would want me to comply. I go out for an early walk alone to try to see if any of my helots are in satisfactory condition as the sun begins to retrieve the night’s dew. I fold my arms up under my chin and lean against the fence overlooking the work fields, when Theodon comes up next to me. The barley is blowing in the wind coming off the sea, carrying with it smells of the newly fertilized field. A piece of my hair blows across my eyes, and he reaches up, sticks it behind my ear, and looks back down with a smile.
    He clears his throat. “The helots who work for you are a worthless bunch, all of them drunkards.