Years had passed since the young king made his return of triumph to great Sparta, each day holding a new lesson, a new challenge, a new test.
Leonidas adjusted himself, conforming to the ancient standards set for a Spartan king. He had received only the wisest men as his tutors, many of them long trusted advisors to his own father. He had grown much since his return from the wilds; the wolf beast had become a symbol synonomous with his name. Like the wolf, Leonidas was as cunning in strategy as he was ruthless in battle. No man, Spartan or other, could deny that he was the born king of his father.
The time when Leonidas would take the throne was upon them, all of Sparta could feel it.
Again, Leonidas was not unhappy at the news. He was no coward when it came to responsibility, and he feared nothing. The only thought that could chill the bones of Leonidas was that, when it came his time to rule, that he might disappoint Sparta, or even worse, fail his father's trust.
The crown was indeed a heavy burden.
Leonidas had grown used to this feeling, a mixture of excitement and dread, and he dealt with it as he did with every other part of his daily rituals. He would wake with the dawn, dress himself in the loose linen robes of an expectant king and give thanks to the gods. He would tend to his duties, review his lessons and speak with his father before touring the farmlands or marketplace of Sparta. He grew familiar with the ebb and flow of the city, he was a welcome and hopeful sight to the people. Always, as it had been from the moment he set foot back into the city, or so it seemed to him, Leonidas would read through the scrolls penned by proud Spartan fathers, boasting of their beautiful, willing virgin daughters.
Leonidas had devoted so much time and effort towards his studies that he had given little thought to choosing a wife. He had given no such order that meetings with patrons should begin. If pressed, Leonidas might admit that he would prefer to take his crown before taking a wife, but as yet no one had asked. Sparta's future king was no longer the ignorant boy he was when first reentering the city, nor was he the willful young man he had been weeks ago- Leonidas now understood why having a woman by his side would be such a great thing in the future.
Dilios, a new friend and young soldier in his first fleet, had not hesitated to humanize his king somewhat by inviting him out to a certain tavern with a group of friends. The tavern had held a long-standing reputation as one of the finest brothels in all of Greece, welcoming all Spartans, but the warriors especially. Leonidas was a responsible young man, his position commanded it, but even his father thought it would do him good to simply be a man, rather than a king for a night. He had been surprised to find he'd enjoyed himself- drinking and gaming with the other warriors seemed to deepen their bond; no longer would they follow him simply because he was a great king, they would follow him because he had become a great friend.
Upon the realization that he had yet to take a lover, or any woman at all, a group of older warriors decided to gift their king with a woman for the night. They had teased him good-naturedly that Leonidas would enter the woman's room a boy and step out a man. No longer ignorant of what a man and woman could share, he had gone into the room feeling excited and slightly unsure of how to go about mating her.
The woman had been only a year older than his own twenty-eight years, but she had shared great wisdom and experience with him, bringing hm into his manhood with gentle instruction and passionate skill.
It had been a strange, wonderful experience, and one that Leonidas desired to have again and again- to him being with a woman could rival the thrill he felt in battle. Still, as much as he desired to do so, he had not returned to the tavern or taken up with another woman. He could feel in his bones that the time to choose a wife was close, and he had to choose wisely. No whore, of course. Talented and experienced as they were, he would never jeopardize the crown's honor by aligning himself with a wanton female. He could not live with himself if the parentage of his future heirs came to be in doubt.
No. Leonidas knew that when he chose his wife, he would know, in his heart, that she would be the only woman he could ever want in his bed- and he would be the only man that had ever lain in hers. He thought of Gorgo. She had grown, just as he had. No longer a coltish girl, she had blossomed further into a strong Spartan woman. Beautiful as Aphrodite, cunning as Artemis...he had not seen her for some time, nearly ten days since he had seen her last, as she had been training. Women were trained to handle weapons, but not to serve as warriors- Gorgo had determined herself to learn how to handle a sword as well as heal the wounds that occured from the blade.
He appreciated her tenacity as well as her beauty. It occurred to Leonidas that he might save himself much trouble if he simply took Gorgo as his queen. She was a beautiful, young noblewoman of pure Spartan heritage. He had known her for years- her twentieth birthday was upon them, and she had been a close friend to him. It would be a wise union, to be sure, but Leonidas was hesitant.
Gorgo was not the same as any other woman a man could meet in Sparta, she was different. Leonidas knew that the promise of a life of comfort would not be enough to have Gorgo agree to be his wife; she wanted more. He didn't know what she wanted, but the stately life of a queen might prove to be a bore to her. She was a joyful young woman, and often prone to speak up among men when another woman might wisely keep quiet.
There were other complications as well. Leonidas knew little of her private life; he might not be the only man in consideration. Once, a year ago, he had been walking through the palace gardens, searching for her, and had caught sight of her with one of his younger cavalry officers, kissing. It had been innocent enough, he supposed, but for all he knew they might be promised to each other.
The idea left him uneasy, and Leonidas admitted that he wanted Gorgo for himself.
He paced his chambers, restless as a caged animal, wondering what course of action to take. Leonidas felt he had to be direct. He would seek out Gorgo and ask if she was promised to any man. If she was, he would wish her a wonderful life and even provide her and her worthy husband with a villa in the south as a wedding present. If she was not...
Decided, Leonidas left his chambers and headed out to the courtyard where she could usually be found when the sun was high, practising strokes with her small sword. He saw her there, with her teacher, a weathered man that had fought countless battles beside his father. "Good, good, Gorgo!" He encouraged her as she advanced on him, sparring with vigor. "Keep this up and the king might put you into battle!"
Leonidas moved closer to them, exposing himself from the shadows of the palace doorway. "I would never use her in battle, we want to defeat our enemies, not wipe them off the face of the earth!"
Both Gorgo and her instructor paused in their fight and turned to him. Gorgo's face was smeared with dirt and coated with sweat, a slight sunburn was showing on her exposed arms and her body was trembling from the fight. She smiled and moved to meet his approach. Leonidas smiled at her in return. He looked up to the old solider and nodded his respect. "Adelphos. Would you leave us? I must speak with Gorgo alone."
The older man nodded, and left them in the courtyard to return to the palace. Leonidas turned to look at Gorgo and smiled slightly to see her attempting to swipe the dirt from her face. "Don't bother," he teased. "You look like a Spartan fresh off the battlefield."
Gorgo laughed and gave up trying to freshen her appearance. "Thank you, my lord. I will never fight on the field but at least I can look the part!"
Leonidas nodded and inclined his head toward the gardens. "Warrior or woman, you'll always be Gorgo to me. I must speak with you."
Catching his serious tone, the smiled faded from her face. "Leonidas, my king, is everything all right? Nothing has happened to my father?"
King Androcles had sent her father, Cadmus, to attend to a summit in the south to address nighboring territories encroaching too closely to Greek farmlands. There had been no word yet from Cadmus, and as far as Leonidas knew, the man would return at the end of the month as planned.
"It's nothing to do with your father, Gorgo. I wish to speak with you concerning us."
She appeared confused. "Us? Well, what of us?"
Leonidas frowned slightly in irritation. "Walk the gardens with me, and I'll tell you."
Gorgo swallowed and began to shift her weight from one foot to another. The expression on her face and the knowing gleam in her eyes told him that she knew, or thought she knew, what he wished to speak to her about. She was nervous, uncertain, and Leonidas thought he saw a flash of regret in her gaze. "I...may I change first?" She asked, motioning to her light metal breastplate and the leather tunic beneath it.
Leonidas understood her tactic- she was stalling for time, but he allowed it. "Go, bathe yourself quickly, but you will return here in one hour." He declared, suddenly annoyed by her.
Her eyes flashed at his command, but she said nothing as turned and stalked back to the palace, heading towards her chambers.
When Gorgo returned to him, Leonidas felt the breath catch in his throat. It must have been a form of feminine revenge against him, he was sure, for her to have dressed herself in such a way. He'd ordered her to bathe herself, and Gorgo had gone far beyond his expectations. Rather than one of the simple linen robes she wore during the day, she had chosen instead to wear one of the garments usually reserved for formal ceremonies or visiting Greek leaders.
It was the bright, blinding white of a winter snow; tiny gold beads were woven in about the neck, the ends of her long skirt were dyed deep green and blue, the colors of a peacock, the goddess Hera's creature. Her garment was thin, too thin not to be distracting. In certain light, Leonidas could see the outline of her breasts, the shadow of her sex. He closed his eyes for a moment and swallowed a gulp of air as she approached him.
"My king," she greeted him, bowing her head slightly before him.
He took a deep breath, not yet trusting himself to speak. They began to walk their familiar trail through the garden in companionable silence. After a while, Leonidas gestured to a stone bench within an alcove formed of cyprus trees. Gorgo sat down first, and Leonidas followed her. She frowned at his uncertain expression. "You claimed we had to speak, my lord. Please, you are acting very strangely...what has happened to upset you so?"
Leonidas shook his head, "No, Gorgo, nothing has...well, I lie to myself. As you know, the time for me to ascend the throne is growing near. Another year, possibly two, and I will be the true king of Sparta." He felt restless suddenly, and began to pace before her in the soft grass.
Gorgo nodded beside him.
"My father has a few good years left, and since my return from the agoge, he has imparted many lessons and wise words upon me. The most wise of his advice has been that once I am king, I am to choose a queen to rule by my side. He warned me that not any simple woman will do- it would be nothing for a peasant to wear a crown for a day, but a true queen would rule by my side until the end of our reign. This woman, the queen I choose, she would need to be intelligent and strong but not without caring or humor. A woman of appropriate age to bear children, of course, a good mother. A good wife..."
He turned back to Gorgo to see her face pale and her eyes wet with unshed tears. Leonidas moved to sit down beside her on the bench, taking her hands into his own. He rarely touched her, but he was alarmed that her hands felt so cold and trembled within his grip. He took a deep breath and forged onward. "Gorgo, you have lived within the palace for years and in you I have seen both the warrior and the woman. If...if you are not promised to another, I choose you as my queen."