Spartans in the Backyard
His muscles ached as he ran. Sweat from his brow clouded his vision.
"Halt! Halt! Hold up here men."
Armour clanked as the small group of soldiers came thudding to a stop. With one swift motion, the entirety of the troop turned about to face their enemy with raised shields and bristling spears.
"We'll hold them off here. Stand your ground!"
Leonydaz growled. There were too many of them. The Persians had them surrounded. They've had them surrounded for hours now. Leonydaz's band of weary Spartans had led them on a merry little chase all this while but the game was now up.
There were too many of them.
No! They must not fail here. They must not fail. The main army a few miles down at the Hot Gates were counting on them to hold this secret pass. How did they know? How did they find this place? Angry thoughts raced through Leonydaz's mind. A traitor! What else. A thousand curses upon his filthy hide! He will be found out before this day is done, whether they live or died. King Leonidas will grant him a swift death.
"They're coming sir. Look!"
An immense force of Persians were now streaming through the pass they just retreated from. They marched ruthlessly over their dead and injured, terrible casualties inflicted upon them by the Spartans in earlier hours of fighting. They smelt blood, knew they had the Spartans cornered at last, and were eager to finish them off. They were still intimidated though, and rightly so. The small group of fifty Spartans had systematically destroyed everything they had thrown at them. Their reputation was well-earned.
"Well-earned indeed Spartans. Your abilites and ferocity precede you."
A large, fat Persian ambassador squeezed through the front ranks. Gold bangles glittered on his arms. His horse whinnied under the strain. Leonydaz and his men stared with contempt and disgust.
"Certainly you know when you've been defeated. You have fought well Spartans, but are moments away from total annihilation. Save yourselves, and lay down your arms! Your false King Leonidas has abandoned you, leaving..."
His speech was cut short. A whistling spear had embedded itself in the ambassador's heart. His eyes widened, and with a last gasp of air fell dead from his horse. The troops in the vicinity stared, shocked at the swiftness of the Spartans' wrath. There would be no words. With a roar that echoed through the valley around them, the remaining Spartans charged the Persian line. They would either hold this pass, or die trying.
There would be no words. The sudden fury of the attack pushed the Persians back, but there were too many. Blood spewed and bones were cracked, limbs sliced and torn apart. The Spartan's shields were cloven, their spears broken and swords notched. Heads were hewed from shoulders, but still, there were too many. The Spartans used their helmets, their remaining hands, their teeth.....
"Leon? What the hell are you doing?"
"Eh?"
"You're trashing around in the dirt like an idiot. What the hell man? Ugghh, whatever, mum's asking whether you're done raking the yard or not, although I think I know the answer."
Leon grinned sheepishly at his older brother, who was standing over him whilst giving him a look of utmost incredulity. He opened his mouth to explain, but thought the better of it. Standing up, he brushed the leaves off his jacket and started looking for the rake he had been stabbing the air with a few seconds ago.
"The rake's over there you retard. You threw it and then started screaming like a bloody idiot. Been watching 300 again?"
"Yeah."
"Seriously man a vivid imagination is good and all but you're bloody crazy. See you later for dinner."
"Alright."
Leon stared after his brother. What did the fool know? A red mist descended upon his eyes.
The rearguard had fallen. Betrayed by a traitor. The Persians were coming from behind. King Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans steeled themselves.
Tonight, they would dine in hell!
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