Rumors of a Persian approach had been circulating for years. Tales of a great king in the highest, ruler of a world beyond Greece's measure. He, the great Xerxes, who commanded an army of monsters, who held all women in captivation, who held all men in complete fear.
A master.
A living god.
Leonidas had dismissed these rumors, every one.
"Tales like these are for children," he was known to have said. "I have heard of this Xerxes, but until I see him myself, I will not entertain such silly stories."
News traveled quickly of fallen Greek rulers, slain by the assassins in the god-king's employ. There had been small skirmishes between Greece and the Persians before, each fight becoming larger as the years went on and the generations changed.
All of Sparta knew that the Persian empire looked upon Greece with hungry eyes- empires had to expand, else they died out. None were more familiar with 'fight or die' than the Spartans, but it was a city like any other. Not every citizen was a warrior- there were many defenseless women and children within the city walls; whole families were left at risk in the villages outside of Sparta's protection.
Leonidas knew this. Leonidas also knew that he would have as good as sentenced all of Sparta to death if he had given his submission to the Persian messenger.
He was a Spartan. The beautiful chaos of war pulsed in his blood and in the blood of his wife and sons.
"War is coming to Greece, Gorgo. It cannot be avoided; no negotiations will take place now. It is war, I can feel it in my bones." Leonidas had confided to her.
Gorgo had been resting in their bed beside him. It was very late at night, soft silver light from the moon and stars poured in on them. The bedchambers were sacred to them. This was where they had first become man and wife. Their children had been planted here. It was here and only here that they could confess their doubts to each other. The only place where they were not judged.
She touched his shoulder, stroking his back. "We knew war would come upon us, husband. It was inevitable." She was silent for a time. "When will you march?"
Leonidas had hesitated. "It will be soon. I have already asked the Senate to allow me to take the full might of Sparta's warriors..."
"Leonidas?"
He sighed. "They will refuse me unless the Ephors and their Oracle conceed."
With those words, Gorgo felt her heart drop.
Gorgo had known that war would someday find her family. Sparta boasted to have the greatest warriors ever known to walk the earth; with such strong boasting, how could they have avoided challenge for long?
The Ephors had refused Leonidas, of course. Insulting him and his queen, content to allow him, his wife and children, content to allow all of Sparta to be enslaved or slaughtered, so long as they remained in their false seats of power.
Gorgo stood in the road, watching as Leonidas, the great king of all Sparta, followed after his warriors. He had agonized over the choice- to put Sparta to war, or not, it did not matter. His people would be killed regardless. Xerxes would not allow the Spartans to survive, and why bother to hope otherwise?
Xerxes had done more than absorb other cities into his empire- he had enslaved them.
Leonidas knew that he would die; he only wished for his people, all Spartans, to understand that he had faced down the enemy and fought to the death defending them. He could have taken the whole of Sparta's forces, but even as he had walked toward the mountain temple of the Ephors, he knew his words would fall on deaf and contemptuous ears.
The Ephors had waited, patient as snakes, and had their revenge at the cost of Sparta.
It is often said that cities die first from within. Corrupt and full of greed, power-hungry and ambitious, it was Theron- an advisor to the Senate!- that had sold Sparta to the Persians. Turning the Ephors had been simple once they heard promises of exotic Oracles and mountains of gold. Theron gloated to himself that he had overpowered Sparta with his cleverness, without lifting a finger.
Gorgo had cried alone over the pain she had allowed Theron to inflict upon her- a queen reduced to a man's whore while her king had sacraficed himself to save her. She had been desperate for support to release the might of Sparta upon the approaching Persians. She allowed him to use her brutally, hardly a sigh of pain escaped her as Theron had mounted her like a savage.
Forgive me, Leonidas...know that you have my heart forever...Zeus, give me the strength to endure Theron, if only so that I might be able to honor Leonidas in the end...
Theron had his way with her, but it was Gorgo that had triumphed. No sooner was Theron revealed as a traitor and his body strung up as a symbol of all things wicked, Sparta released its furies upon the Persians, leading all that remained of Greece.
Every night, Gorgo knelt upon a marble altar and prayed that Leonidas be returned to her safely. Even when she knew her prayers were in vain, the queen knelt and prayed.