Polemidas's Arc

Chapter 12 of 7

Three days after the king named him savior, the summons came. A steward found Polemidas in the courtyard by the little stone pond, watching Valour paw at a lily pad. The man bowed and held out a sealed letter. "The court requests the hero at the border," he said. "Raiders. They ask for you by name." Polemidas took the letter but did not open it. This was the third summons this week. Each one pulled him back to the spear. Each one called him hero, warrior, weapon. He looked at his hands, wet from the pond, and knew the court would never stop asking. To them he was one thing only. He carried the letter inside. The bedchamber he shared with Heliodorus was warm. A carved oak bed stood against the wall, dressed in red and gold. In the corner rose a stand that held gleaming gold armor, red at its heart, a gift from the court. They had built him a new set. They wanted him to wear it and ride out. Heliodorus sat on the bed and read the letter over his shoulder. "You don't have to go," he said. "My father would send another captain." "They asked for me." Polemidas set the letter down. "They will keep asking. Every time I answer, I become the thing I am trying to leave behind." Fury pushed her nose against his knee. He rested his hand on her ear, on the white spot there. He made his choice then. He would answer the summons, but not as they wished. He walked to the gold stand and lifted the breastplate. It was heavy and bright and made for a hero. He set it back down. He would not wear it. Instead he took up his own Spartan armor, the plain bronze, scarred from real fights. He strapped it on. Then he walked to the great hall where the court waited. The councilmen rose when he entered. One gestured to the gold he had left behind. "You honor us poorly, hero, coming in that old iron." "I am not your hero," Polemidas said. His voice filled the hall. "I will ride to the border because men are in danger, not because you named me a legend. When it is done, I return here. I will not wear your gold. I will not answer to that name." The hall went quiet. A councilman opened his mouth, then shut it. King Leonidas, seated above them, studied Polemidas long. At last he nodded once. "Then go as yourself," he said. "And come back as yourself." It was not the answer they expected. The court had wanted a monument. Polemidas gave them a man. He turned and walked out, and no one called him hero again. He had drawn a line. But refusing their name did not tell him his own. He still did not know what he was under the armor. That question rode out with him.