Spartan Run

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Rikki-Tikki Tavi raced into the long barracks and saw the four soldiers he was chasing 30 feet in front of him. On each side extended a row of double bunks, dozens upon dozens of them. At the foot of each rested a red footlocker. In racks mounted, on both walls were scores of weapons, primarily guns.

“Someone is after us!” shouted the last soldier in line.

“Stop him!” came the command from the front.

Immediately, the Spartan spun and blocked the aisle, his sword held at chest height.

Rikki never slowed. He was determined to stop the assassins before they reached King Dercyllidas, and he raised his katana in the ready posture as he closed. “Surrender!” he declared.

The Spartan laughed.

There was no time for fancy swordplay, no time for elaborate thrusts and parries, no time to go easy on the trooper, no time for anything but the exquisitely deadly art of kenjutsa. Rikki approached to within five feet of the Spartan, feinted to the left, and when the soldier blocked the strike, speared his katana under the sword and deep into the man’s chest.

Complete astonishment filled the Spartan’s face. His lips curved upward and he gave a slight nod. “Well done,” he said in appreciation, and died.

Rikki yanked the katana out and hastened along the aisle. A doorway appeared ahead, and he raced to it as fast as his legs would fly. In the next long room was more of the same: bunks, footlockers, and racks of weapons. The three Spartans were halfway to the next door, and one of them glanced back and abruptly halted.

“He got past Deiphobus! I’ll take care of him!”

The Warrior closed the gap. If just one of the death squad reached the king, the result would be disastrous. As much as he would like to match his katana against the next soldier’s short sword, he couldn’t waste a single precious second. He transferred the katana to his left hand and reached behind him with his right, his slim fingers opening the brown pouch he always kept strapped to the small of his back. In it he carried his yawara, kyoketsusgogei, and four shuriken. He extracted one of the throwing stars, drew to within two yards of the soldier, and threw it.

The glint of whirring metal alerted the Spartan to the fact an object was streaking straight at him, although he had no idea what the thing might be. Automatically he brought his sword up to deflect whatever it was, but he misjudged both the object’s size and speed.

Unerringly on target, the shuriken struck the soldier at the base of the throat and sliced several inches into his soft flesh, severing vessels. Blood sprayed out, splattering on his chin and chest. He gagged, released his sword, and clutched at his neck. His eyes acquired a bewildered quality as he sank to his knees, wheezing.

Rikki finished the Spartan without stopping, using the katana to finish the job the shuriken had started.

The last two Spartans were almost to the next door.

No! Rikki almost yelled, his arms and legs pumping. The door was closed, and he intuitively perceived that King Dercyllidas lay behind it. He couldn’t possibly prevent the soldiers from reaching the ruler first.

He’d failed!

One of the soldiers shoved the door wide and both men dashed inside.

Rikki frowned in disapproval of his performance and chastised himself for not trying harder. A flurry of activity took place within the next room, and he detected the swinging of swords and the sounds of a struggle. A moment later one of the men he’d been chasing staggered out, his face split, his mouth, moving soundlessly, then pitched to the floor. Rikki halted.

More Spartans poured through the doorway, ten of them in all, and they warily approached the man in black. The soldier leading them held up his right hand and they all stopped.

“You’re one of the outsiders.” he stated bluntly.

“Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, at your service.”

The soldier looked past the Warrior at the slain assassin. “You’ve been trying to protect our king. Why?”

“My friends and I want King Dercyllidas to live.”

At that moment, from the north end of the building, came a shout diminished by the distance. “Rikki! Can you hear me?”

“Who is that?” the leader asked.

“My friend Blade.”

The giant shouted again. “Leonidas has lost! We’ve got to leave!”

“Leonidas has lost?” the man at the front repeated, and the Spartans began talking among themselves, expressing their disbelief at the news.

Rikki opened his mouth to reply to Blade when he heard another yell.

“We’ll be back. Count on it!”

His friends were leaving? Rikki turned and called out, “I’m coming!”

“Hold it!” the lead soldier snapped.

The Warrior halted.

“I can’t let you leave just yet, not until I’m certain you can be trusted. I’m Captain Pandarus, and I must ask that you surrender your sword and place, yourself in my custody until our superiors decide your fate.”

Rikki pointed at the trooper he’d disposed of. “What does it take to earn your trust? If I wasn’t on your side, would I have tried to prevent your king from being assassinated?”

“No,” Pandams conceded. “But I still can’t permit you to depart. I have my duty to perform.”

“And I must rejoin my companions,” Rikki stated, and began to retrace his steps. He heard the soldiers pounding in pursuit and increased his speed, confident in his ability to outdistance them. He was the fastest runner at the Home and he had yet to meet his match.

“Stop!” Captain Pandarus cried.

Rikki had no intention of obeying. He drew closer to the dead assassin and tensed in preparation for leaping over the body instead of skirting it.

“Stop or else!”

Or else what? Rikki wondered, and glanced back to see if they were about to shoot him or hurl a spear. Neither was the case, so he faced front an instant before he leaped. Under ordinary circumstances he would have cleared the corpse with ease, but in his haste he neglected to look down at the floor. He jumped, and didn’t realize he’d stepped on slick blood until his legs swept out from under him and he crashed onto his back.

The Spartans!

Rikki shoved to his feet, his left palm contacting a sticky, slippery substance, and he was almost erect when it seemed as if a two-ton section of the ceiling slammed onto the top of his head. The room danced and he sagged, struggling to retain his awareness. Another chunk of ceiling crashed onto him, and an inky vertigo engulfed his senses. He was only barely conscious of his head striking the floor.

The excruciating pain awakened him.

Rikki lay still, flat on his back, his eyes closed and took stock of his condition. Waves of agony pounded at the inside of his skull. He gritted his teeth and inhaled softly through his nostrils, endeavoring to compartmentalize the anguish. But the pain resisted and tried to swamp his consciousness, almost like a living creature that was trying to devour him from the inside.

Remember the Zen teachings, Rikki reminded himself. All created beings knew pain and grief at one time or another. Humankind only learned wisdom from tribulation. One of the greatest of afflictions was never to know hardship. The one who knows that pain is universal is at peace even though adrift in a world of pain.

Embrace the pain.

Become one with it.

And in the process, dominate it with the sheer force of indomitable human will.

Rikki relaxed his body and accepted the pain, allowing his consciousness to adjust to its presence. Slowly he came to control the sensation, to master the agony instead of letting it master him. As he did, he perceived sounds all around him, the murmur of muted conversations.

One in particular stood out.

“—food in the barracks?”

“You should know better. It’s against the law for our unit to eat anywhere but in to public mess. We don’t have so much as a crumb.”

The Warrior recognized the first speaker as Captain Chiton, and he believed the second to be Captain Pandarus.

“We can hold out for three or four days at the most,” stated another person in a forceful tone. “After that, our bodies will be too depleted of energy to withstand the rigors of combat.”

“How are we fixed for water, sir?” Chilon asked.

“We have a faucet in the small room at the rear of the barracks,” replied the forceful one. “But General Calchas knows about it, and I have no doubt he’ll cut off our water supply. He won’t waste the lives of more good men when he can simply wait us out, then pick us off easily when he ventures from the barracks.”

Rikki finally identified the third speaker as General Leonidas. He opened his eyes and glanced to his right. Sure enough, there they were: Chilon, Pandarus, and the general. Leonidas sported a wide bandage on his left shoulder. Rikki discovered he was lying on the top bed of one of the double bunks, and next to his right arm lay his katana in its scabbard.

“Go check on the progress of the casualty count,” Leonidas directed Pandarus.

“Yes, sir,” the captain said. He did a smart about-face and departed.

The general stared down at the floor and sighed. “Damn my luck! If I hadn’t taken a spear we might have won.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, sir,” Chilon stated.

“And why not? If the men had let me lie there instead of trying to protect me, our line wouldn’t have broken and Calchas wouldn’t have breached our phalanx. The fault is mine for being careless.”

“The men were doing their duty by safeguarding you at all costs,” Captain Chilon remarked. “You’re the best officer King Dercyllidas has under his command. If anything happened to you our cause would be bleak.”

“Our cause is bleak,” Leonidas stated. “Dercyllidas is at death’s door.

General Calchas has us trapped. We have no food, and soon the water will undoubtedly be cut off. And to top it all off, the outsiders and their van are unaccounted for.”

Blade and Teucer were missing? The revelation upset Rikki, although he took comfort in knowing his friends wouldn’t desert him.

“Not all the outsiders are unaccounted for,” Chilon commented.

Rikki saw both men look at him, and smiled. The mere movement of his lips intensified his discomfort. “I take it you’re talking about me.”

“Rikki!” Chilon declared, and stepped over to place his hand on the Warrior’s shoulder. “Thank God you’ve revived. The doctor told us you would be all right. How do you feel?”

“Where’s the debris?” Rikki responded, and rose onto his elbows to survey the room in which they had placed him. He spied the north doors 30 feet away, closed and barred and guarded by six soldiers.

“The debris?” Chilon repeated quizzically.

“From the part of the roof that came down on my head.”

The captain grinned. “If it’s any consolation, Captain Pandarus feels very bad about knocking you out.”

“Not half as bad as I feel.”

General Leonidas moved up to the bunk. “I’d like to extend my apology for what has happened. My subordinate believed he was doing his duty.”

“He does it very well.”

“Can we get you some water?” Leonidas inquired. “I’m afraid that’s all we can offer.”

“Water would be nice.” Rikki placed the katana in his lap, then swung around and draped his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Get him a glass,” the general instructed Chilon, who promptly hurried off.

There were Spartans standing at every window, and scores of them seated on the bottom bunks, most sharpening their swords or talking quietly.

“I heard you mention my friends,” Rikki said. “What happened to them?”

“I don’t know,” Leonktes answered. “I was injured during the battle and carried back to the barracks, so I didn’t note where they went. Some of my men reported that your vehicle was last observed heading into the city. Do you have any idea why Blade would go there?”

“No, but he must have an excellent reason.”

“King Agesilaus is still in the city. He’ll never let them return.”

Rikki grinned. “If you knew Blade as well as I do, you wouldn’t be worried.”

“And if you knew Agesilaus as well as I do, you would be.”

“I understand you’re trapped in here,” Rikki noted, staring out the nearest window. Beyond stood a row of soldiers holding their shields in front of them. Only their heads, necks, and legs from mid-thigh down were exposed to view.

“General Calabas has us surrounded, yes. I suspect he intends to simply wait us out. Hunger will drive us into his hands.”

“Perhaps you won’t mind if I offer a suggestion?” Rikki tactfully said.

“Be my guest.”

But before the Warrior could elaborate, a loud crash shattered the hushed atmosphere in the confines of the room as a heavy spear smashed through a window on the west side.

“They’re attacking!” someone cried.