"Nice throw," Kratos said with rare approval.
"They've probably spotted us by now. Soon, the harpies will begin searching for whoever dared trespass on their territory," I replied.
My fears were confirmed. Harsh, birdlike cries echoed in the sky more harpies began to appear overhead, circling warily above us, not yet committing to attack.
When the sky was thick with dozens of them, they finally dove, wings outstretched, claws bared.
"Lock shields!" Kratos ordered.
We tightened our formation, shields interlocked, spears pointed outward. The harpies crashed down on us from above, but our defense held. Like a tortoise under siege, we pushed forward slowly under their onslaught. They circled, screeching, slashing at the gaps between shields and dropping stones from above.
"We can't keep moving this slowly," Kratos growled. "If we do, we won't complete the reconnaissance in time. The enemy will strike before we can act."
I knew he was right. We had to find a way to deal with the threat from the skies.
"We need a cave. There, we'll split up," I said.
"Agreed," Kratos answered, already seeing where I was going with it.
Soon, we found a suitable spot a rocky shelter half-covered by large overhanging boulders. We took cover. The decision was made swiftly: from here on, only the two of us would continue. Kratos and I were strong enough to face any patrol that might cross our path. The rest of the unit would retreat and draw the harpies away.
As they left the cave, the harpies predictably took the bait, wings beating furiously as they pursued the decoy group. We remained inside, silent, waiting. Gradually, the noise faded. A few harpies flew past the entrance, but failing to detect us, soon disappeared into the distance.
"Move out," Kratos said curtly.
Alone, we advanced far more swiftly. I noticed immediately just how much stronger Kratos was than the average Spartan in both endurance and raw strength. Our path led through a valley between two mountains, descending into its depths before climbing back up.
And then, from a high vantage point, the enemy camp came into view.
"They weren't lying. There are many of them," I said, eyes narrowing. Even from this distance, we could see the lines of soldiers stretching across the plain.
"That's cavalry. No fewer than three thousand," Kratos added, pointing toward the mass of horses gathered near the center.
"In open field, that's a serious threat. If the Spartan army advances and that cavalry strikes from the flanks, even our phalanx won't hold," I said grimly.
Sparta's phalanx was legendary but on open plains, against coordinated charges backed by infantry and archers, even our famed formation could crumble.
"You're right," Kratos muttered, thoughtful. "Where did they get so many riders?"
Messenia had always had a cavalry force and fertile lands for horse breeding, but their maximum known capacity was around a thousand. A few hundred more were kept in reserve. Unless…
"There are no banners. Maybe the cavalry came from Arcadia or Aegis?" I suggested.
"Most likely," Kratos said, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the camp. "The infantry looks like freshly drafted farmers. But that cavalry they could've been moved quickly. Which means the main army is still arriving."
"If we move a detachment through the mountains and strike their camp from behind, stampeding the horses, we can neutralize their biggest advantage," I said.
"A solid plan," Kratos nodded. "Without horses, those riders are nothing. Our army would tear them apart no matter how many there are."
"We must report all of this to Heron immediately," I said firmly.
"Let's go."
We were already retracing our path when I caught a strange rustle. Then the twang of a bowstring. I spun around instinctively, just in time to see an arrow flying straight at me. With a surge of reflexes, I caught it mid-air. The archer's eyes widened in disbelief he hadn't expected that.
"We've been spotted."
More arrows flew from the thicket. They were scouts likely patrolling these mountains.
"AARRGH!" Kratos let out a furious battle cry and charged, weaving through the incoming arrows with inhuman agility.
I followed. Our enemies were mostly archers, armed only with short swords for close combat. Against our spears, they stood little chance.
A few drew their blades and rushed to meet us. The rest continued firing. They were fast and well-coordinated but we were Sparta's finest.
We crashed into their formation. Our spears tore through them with ease, shields deflecting arrows. I spotted one trying to flank us. I pivoted and hurled my spear, striking him down before he could act.
As if sensing the attack from behind, I raised my shield just in time to deflect a blow. I summoned my weapon back, struck low into his gut, then again upward into his skull.
Kratos fought like war itself. It was as if the battlefield were his natural habitat. Every movement of his was clean, brutal, precise. I couldn't help but marvel he was born for this.
The enemy soon realized we were no ordinary Spartans. Even with numbers on their side, they couldn't match us. Panic set in they broke and fled.
"They'll report back. We must kill them all," I said, lifting my spear.
They scattered in all directions. I sprinted after one while Kratos went the other way. My target darted downhill, fast even over rough terrain. But I anticipated where he'd turn. I cast my spear high, leading the throw. As he veered around a boulder, the point drove into his back from above. Without pause, I turned and threw again this time striking another between the shoulder blades. He fell silently.
But I made a mistake I thought they were all running.
One had stayed behind, hiding, waiting. His arrow struck the back of my knee, piercing through. Pain dulled my focus, but I advanced, using my shield to block further shots. When I reached him, I drew my sword and drove it through his throat. Clever bastard he'd stayed to delay me, to give the others a chance. But he failed.
"This'll hurt," I muttered, gripping the shaft of the arrow.
With a sharp jerk, I snapped it. Then I grasped the head and began to pull. A sickening crunch bone cracked. Blood poured out. The arrowhead came free, but with it I felt a tendon snap. I clenched my jaw. The bleeding stopped quickly, thanks to my healing. I pushed forward, leaning on my spear.
For a moment, my vision blurred then cleared.
Poisoned? I thought. But thankfully, I had resistance.
I made my way back to the battlefield, then followed the trail Kratos had taken. He was nowhere to be seen until I finally looked down from a cliff and saw three bodies below.
"Damn it," I muttered.
I descended and approached. Kratos lay among them. For a heartbeat, I considered leaving him. Walking away. After all, he was the reason chaos would soon engulf all of Greece. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came. I believed in Spartan brotherhood how could I abandon him?
Kratos had broken bones several, by the looks of it. Unconscious, but still breathing. His heart still beat.
"Kh… kh…"
"Kratos?" I called.
He groaned softly, barely aware. Fevered. I had no time. I couldn't leave him, and there was no way to hide the enemy corpses. I could only hope the scent of blood would draw harpies they'd take care of the rest.
I hoisted Kratos onto my shoulder, grabbed his gear, and with everything secured, leaned on my spear and pressed on. Time was running out.
It was pointless to return to Heron. I'd never make it in time with this burden. Only one path remained straight to the main army. More dangerous, but shorter. I still had a chance.
Why must everything be so hard?
Because that's life.