Chapter 1: Unexpected bonds
Intro notes:
This first chapter is not much different from the original by choice, but the next ones are more unique. I have taken some liberties with the timeline so this work of fiction isn't historically accurate. The characters are as they're portrayed by Ubisoft. English isn't my native language so excuse my mistakes and typos, it's hard to correct everything alone. I would appreciate your opinions and reviews. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
. . .
March 429 BC
It is almost late afternoon and Kassandra is hiding behind some bushes near the port of Lawlessness, where the Monger's warehouse is. Ikaros, her eagle, has located some men guarding the place and she waits for the right moment. It won't be long until dusk and most men have finished their work.
There are fewer civilians passing and even less wandering near the port while only a couple of men still working. The increasingly spreading veil of the dimming light is the perfect cover for the woman hiding in the shadows to jump into action unseen. As well as, it prompts most people to gather in their homes to prepare for dinner. The breezy air already carries a pleasant distinguishing smell of roast meat from the nearby households.
The misthios thought about sneaking in the night but then the fire would be spotted from the guards much quicker. Although she doesn't mind sending these thugs to Hades, for the moment her job is to burn the building. She is eager to have the job done, so Anthousa will give her information about her mother, Myrrine.
Kassandra's life was never easy but after leaving Kephallonia, it became even more confusing and difficult. She met with her father, Nikolaos, the man who threw her off mount Taygetos obeying the orders of Sparta.
She was still feeling angry and betrayed by him, whom she used to love with all her heart. No matter how much his actions ache her, she spared him. Killing her father with her own hands is impossible. Yet she can't forgive him, her heart will remain in pieces for a long time. Maybe even forever.
He put his love for Sparta over his family and obeyed the state's orders letting his children face death despite the protests and pleads of his wife. Though, Kassandra and her brother were lucky enough and somehow, they both survived the fall. A fact unknown to most.
Myrrine is an Agiad, daughter of king Leonidas of Sparta. She was trained and prepared for rough circumstances but she didn't bow to the instructions. She yelled, begged Nikolaos to not let this happen and kicked the soldiers that held her.
How comes if her mother objected that her father did not? Her mother was kind and loving of course, but she was stricter and demanding of Kassandra whereas her father used to be proud of her only if a little hard to please when he trained her; he was her best-loved and she seemed to be his.
After the night on the mountain, she fled and had to grow up alone. All these memories and the unbearable feelings she endured came back and deluge her mind.
Then she learnt about the Cult of Kosmos that took her brother after the fall, since he was only one year old and manipulated him, poisoned his mind. Her dear baby brother Alexios is now a vicious man called Deimos, brainwashed, bloodhungry.
As if these are not already enough, she learnt that her family, all her bloodline is the Cult's target. The Cult is looking for her mother right now. Myrrine is somewhere alone and Kassandra must find her to make sure she is and will remain safe.
Ikaros chirps and brings her back to reality. Her observation on the watch goes on for a while longer. After a while, only two guards are near the warehouse at the front.
In a quick natural move, she picks up and wears the Wolf's helmet before leaving her hiding place. It's the usual routine to take it off whenever she needs to be unnoticed. The protection it offers and emotional value at the cost of practicality.
She sneaks in lighting up a torch and throws a fire arrow at some hay at the far end corner. Her initial plan is stalled by a pleading voice. Walking towards the source, she spots a cage at the shadows behind some wooden boxes.
It's a man begging her to free him. From what she can tell he is a slave. The Monger uses people to work for him by force hitting and torturing them.
"Please misthios, set me free."
"Are there more captives here?" she asks as she unlocks him.
"Oh, thank you. There are many, I'll help those upstairs."
"Let's move quickly."
There are slaves all over the warehouse kept captives in cages, she frees them and quickly resumes her job. She hears a man shouting alarmingly at the slaves notifying the other guards.
She has just been able to make certain there is no one else trapped, when thugs come inside and circle her before she can find any other safe way out.
All the safe routs are blocked by the guards. She is one against seven and there isn't much time before more of them come, or the roof collapses, or civilians start to gather outside.
Just then, all of a sudden, a man turns up from her left, throwing his spear through one of the thugs' chest. He seems to be a spartan soldier, judging by his armor and shield. He is gorgeous, a proper warrior both in physique and technique. He is tall with wide shoulders, muscular, strong and well-shaped body.
The soldier's sudden attack startles not only Kassandra but the Monger's men as well for a few seconds.
''Come and get it'' he dares them after retrieving his spear from the man who lies now dead on the ground.
He charges, slicing the men with little effort using equally his spear and shield to strike. After the second man is down, he turns back and glances at Kassandra as though to assure her that he is on her side.
Shortly, she joins him and they fight the thugs in unison cooperating as if they have been training together and known each other's moves for years.
The brawl unfolds with the strangely appeared soldier and Kassandra covering each other and collaborating amazingly in perfect synchronization. It's a heated violent group choreography, where only the leading duo remains standing till the end, after the perilous dance with the flames, blood and smoke.
At a moment it looks like there are no other men to deal with and she stares at the mysterious soldier only to find him looking at her ready to charge with his spear. Instinctively she fixes her stance to repel his blow and attack him back, but at the last moment as she slips to her right to dodge, she sees a thug behind her being stabbed by the soldier's spear.
Once again, he proved to be her co fighter so she leaps over his shield to stab a thug behind him and return the favor. They continue fighting back-to-back the rest of the men that came to the warehouse upon seeing it on fire.
She covers him and he covers her blindly. The warehouse is heavily ablaze with horrific fire at the point of collapse. The smoke is making the air heavy and difficult to breathe when they deal with the last man.
Together they shove him against one of the big doors which cracks open and they step out of the burning building. There are some more hostile men with weapons right outside and the newly composed duo deals with them as quickly as possible to leave the place before they are spotted and chased anew.
A few minutes later, they are running away from the backside, north east towards the river's estuary to sit down at the opposite shore, having the city walls between the crime scene and them. Now that they escaped to safety, her mind starts to wonder about the stranger sitting next to her.
He helped her, he is a handsome man, impressive in many ways, but who is he? It cannot be a coincidence that he showed up that moment in a warehouse at the edge of the town.
Her thoughts halt for a moment as she takes in his appearance in more detail this time.
His hair is brown and short with a small braid going around his head like a crown hanging at the back of his neck, the Spartan way. He has a big pointed beard that is well groomed and light brown eyes, like honey, full of sparkle. A scar traces his face along his left cheekbone, indicating his experience in combat. Judging by the smooth lines at his forehead he must be at his early thirties.
The soldier breaks the silence first with his baritone voice, which is steady despite they both just stopped to catch their breaths.
''You fight like a Spartan! There's resolve in you.''
She glances towards him not sure if she wants to give away any information about her at this point, although he assisted her. So, she decides to refrain from important revelations until she is assured and answers with a little diplomacy.
''We have that in common.''
The man nods. "I saw innocents trapped in the flames."
She looks at him puzzled. Is he playing with her, testing her for some reason? She is certain she opened all the cages, releasing everyone. Also, she wonders how does he know. It's not the first time she is approached by someone who has a far vaster knowledge than they claim and it doesn't usually end well.
"The ones in the warehouse? I freed them already."
The man gives a small smile and prize at her action. "A good soldier acts when he is told. A great one is two steps ahead. Thank you."
His contained smile seems genuine, it reaches his eyes. As if he cares for those people's lives. As if those slaves' lives have value for someone who grew up in a nation where helots are treated like property. How unusual for a Spartan soldier in particular.
Kind and compassionate people are extremely uncommon. Neither in Sparta nor in Kephallonia where she spent most of her life, did she meet anyone fitting this description. Everyone is selfish with motives of their own, she cannot trust this stranger is different although she has a strange and unusual feeling that he is trustful. Maybe his good looks blind her and took over her mind. She tries to shake the thoughts away and reply to him.
A few too many seconds passed without her replying and she notices him looking at her with an unreadable expression.
"I did what I could." she says with a small sigh taking off her helmet and placing it to the ground beside her.
"We can't save everyone." his voice sounds a bit sad and he shortly adds in his previous tone. "My thanks anyways for your effort."
"My name is Kassandra. I would thank you too if I knew yours."
In spite of her initial regret for her recklessness to blurt out her name, she managed to satisfy her impatience which grew more and more with each passing second. As for the man, he looks like he's pleased she introduced herself and calmer than before for some reason, causing her to settle for a friendlier confrontation.
"Brasidas of Sparta. You are a newcomer to Korinth."
The certainty in his words create an upheaval to Kassandra, who goes back and forth from reliance to doubt. This conversation, with unstable feelings and reflections in her mind causes her to clench her fist.
"You are a spy?"
"An old Spartan tactic." he admits crossing his hands at his chest and lifting one to touch his beard adds, "I have my ways."
"That must be the Korinthian hobby. Anthousa has her hetaerae watching every post, too."
Brasidas makes a face at Kassandra's words like he has just put the pieces together.
"Ah, Anthousa. We have a common enemy but we disagree on how to act."
"The Monger" Kassandra notes and he nods affirmingly.
Risking she decides to talk about the Monger and Anthousa's plan in an attempt to determine if he's an insidious threat. They exchange opinions about possible ways and how to take this thug down.
He prefers to avoid bloodshed or reduce it to minimum. He admitted having used political diplomacy to remove this thug from being the leader of Korinth, but the attempts were unsuccessful. Still, he firmly insists the people shouldn't be provoked. Anarchy could be destructive for the city.
His focus is on the consequences. He doesn't command her neither request her assistance. It's more like he's talking sense into her, in some kind of advice based on logic. They way he speaks and his thoughtful notions are adding to his good character and therefore reliability.
Since Anthousa mostly cares about seeing the Monger dead and out of her way, it's fine for Kassandra to do it her way. The hetaera should be pleased with the outcome. Killing the Monger discreetly won't lead the Cult straight to Kassandra's tracks, so she agrees with Brasidas's plan and he thanks her.
"Sparta will be in your debt."
"I was Spartan once."
He looks into her eyes as he repeats. "Once...?"
She stands up and takes a few steps towards the sea crossing her arms to her chest as her lips form a thin line. She has made up her mind, she's going to hasten the outcome whatever it may be.
"Until I was thrown off Mount Taygetos as a child and then chased to be killed."
He proceeds her words for a few moments completely still. His gaze momentarily moves to the ground and then back to her form.
"You are alive. You are General Nikolaos's daughter. Impossible…"
She turns to face him. He is stunned and something else Kassandra cannot tell. By the look on his face, she at least assumes that he does not detests her now that he knows who she is. His eyes are wide, glistening the silver light of the full moon, but rather warm not cold as she feared.
"I survived the fall, fled in a boat and ended up in Kephallonia where I grew up."
Her voice is strong but a bit of sadness can be detected albeit that she tries hard not to break thinking of Nikolaos's betrayal.
Brasidas looks a lot like her father when he was young. Although it's been fifteen years ago, it's difficult to talk about these things. Having someone in front of her who looks similar to her father, an image of his face is being formed in her mind while he held her by the wrist seconds before he let her fall.
The Spartan brings her back from her thoughts once again.
"All of Sparta knows your name and what happened that day. Those of good character will forgive and should be forgiven."
Her gaze falls while her face slightly wrinkles. Before she can say anything, he steps closer and puts a hand on her shoulder.
"I am sorry Kassandra."
She lifts her gaze up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, then notices that his eyebrows are furrowed. She shakes her head taking a short breath before speaking up.
"It's fine. Do you know anything about my mother? I'm looking for her."
He removes his hand but looks at her sympathetically. "Myrrine left Sparta that night, right after what happened. No one knows where she went."
Kassandra sighs heavily. She hoped he would know something, yet again she has no clue about her mother.
"You know Nikolaos?"
Brasidas nods. "He trained me at the agoge, a good general, but stubborn Spartan."
"Rewarded for his loyalty."
It is hard to keep her mouth shut and not comment it. The Wolf is known as a good General after what he did to his family.
"You should know that he disappeared, his body was never found. The state pronounced him dead."
Kassandra quickly waves him off. "It's all right. I haven't seen him in years."
It's a white lie she is going to retell to anyone who would ask or be familiar with her father. She confronted Nikolaos recently but only for a few minutes. Barnabas is the only one to whom she confessed her feelings and thoughts about her father and she has no intension to change that.
Silence takes over once again strengthening the sense of cool night air. Kassandra contemplates in her mind her next moves, what she has to do to find Myrrine. She is looking down at her hands when Brasidas's voice interrupts her thoughts.
"Chin up Spartan."
He is smiling at her and she smiles back.
Her gaze falls on his lips. She feels an unusual, strong attraction towards him, one she cannot recall having before for any stranger. Her mind races to uncontrolled thoughts, how much she wishes she could make a move. This man has something different and it's not just the looks. The way he talks, his friendly approach, he seems kind and she has learned to value kindness.
Definitely, the soldier regards her as a woman warrior, not as a common mercenary as most people. It gets harder and harder to ignore that irritating sense at the end of the day when they think they can be mean just because they pay her. His perspective, however, gives her some hope for better days. When she could live among others, have a home, be a local. Having a normal life seems like a lost dream, but she won't cease seeking some kind of family again.
If only life was easy, but she knew her life would never be easy. She tries to push the thoughts away, remind herself that she was meant to struggle and fight hard for everything, both metaphorically and literally.
She will hardly be able to have a partner or stay with a man some day; leaving behind so many enemies who chase her bloodline. Even if she did, she would put her loved ones in danger. Additionally, could she trust a man again? She would hate to risk her heart and surely, she should stay away foremost from a Spartan. A loyal soldier who would love Sparta more or, if she was lucky enough, equally. No that was not even possible, her own father didn't love her and her brother as much as he loved Sparta.
Brasidas looks so tempting for some reason, she's keenly drawn to him, however she's aware she should not surrender to the urge to kiss him. If she makes this mistake, she may break her heart and the blame will be on her.
She must forget him.
Kassandra realizes that she is staring at his lips this whole time and moves her eyes to meet his and take in his face. He has again that blank unreadable expression and she wonders what he is thinking.
All this time Brasidas has been busy with his own thoughts. He saw Kassandra staring first at his lips and then been lost in her thoughts and he tries to use his experience as a spy to understand her. It wouldn't be wise to let himself become distracted by Kassandra's out of ordinary beauty and strength.
He has not much information but he thinks her feelings are hurt by some man and probably she is reminded of him. A theory occurs to him, she is looking at a Spartan, he may remind her of all their nation that hurt her. Possibly of her father, too.
He hasn't comprehended enough things yet. He has lots of gaps to fill in, but he is pretty convinced she isn't a bad person even though he has just met her. He's going to give her some time to prove worthy of his trust. A small research for her should be sufficient to determine her motives.
He resumes planning of the Monger's demise in his mind. He is considering the available options to find the best when Kassandra's voice is heard.
"Drachmae for your thoughts?"
He looks up relieved, he does not have to lie as he would minutes ago.
"Trying to figure out how we will lure the Monger in the sacred cave. Wouldn't be wise to spy on him all day."
Kassandra nods in agreement. "You're right. We can put a bait, but it will be dangerous."
Brasidas's face brightens up. "That's it! Wait for my signal tomorrow at the fountain of Glauke at the hour of Elete."
Before even Kassandra can respond he takes the long road by the river towards the city gates and disappears in the dark shadows of the walls.
. . .
Notes:
1
In ancient Greece they divided the day from dawn till it got completely dark in twelve "hours" (NOT 60mins each). Elete was the 8th hour, it was probably somewhere between 15:00-17:00 depending on the time of season.
2
The two kings of Sparta were two family bloodlines originated from two twin brothers, sons to the King Aristodemos of Sparta. The Eurypontids and the Agiads.
Myrrine (fictional character) was a king's daughter from the Agiad bloodline, both through Leonidas and Gorgo. Generally, all Myrrine's kids would be Agiads; heirs.
3
The word drachmae (plural) or drachma (singular) is used whenever there is reference to money. It's the old Greek currency since ancient times, until the use of euro.