Forbidden love in Greece - chapter 3 (The Lioness of Sparta) (Patreon)

The next morning, the mountains were unnaturally quiet. The Queen of Athens has told her she promised the queen she would help return her to Sparta to finish the war and defend her people, but she asked for her people to be protected in return.

High in the northern mountains of Athens, Jessifoni stood among Athenian soldiers preparing for battle. She towered over many of them, and her presence is enough to unsettle even the most fearful warriors.

“Tch bandits..." She muttered under her breath, her voice low and scornful. “Low-life scum attacking helpless Athenians...”

Her words carried not only to the soldiers beside her but across the mountain pass toward the enemy camp sprawling before them.

Beside an Athenian general, she studied the enemy’s position. At first she admired the strategic placement of the bandits... until her gaze caught the massive stone arch towering above the narrow path.

A plan sparked in her mind. If she could break the arch, the entire encampment below might be crushed beneath its weight. Before she could speak, the general stepped forward, and his voice echoed across the valley.

“Listen well, you warriors! These bandits have been a thorn in our side for months. They strike at our supply routes, kill our livestock, and terrorize our families. We are Athenian warriors, proud defenders of Athens! This ends today!

As if on cue, a roar of voices and clashing steel erupted from across the valley. Enemies surged forward, their boots pounding the earth, weapons flashing in the sun.

Jessifoni snapped her head toward the advancing horde. Too many...far too many to be mere bandits.

This was coordinated. Organized.. Something was terribly wrong...

Jessifoni without hesitation, seized a javelin, drew back her arm, and hurled it forward with terrifying force. The weapon sliced through the air, trailing a violent gust that whipped the soldiers’ cloaks and forced them to shield their faces.

It struck far ahead, piercing through not one but dozens more enemies in a single brutal line.

Jessifoni scoffed. "Athenian soldiers? Don’t make me laugh...”

The soldiers stiffened at the challenge

“The Athenians I’ve heard of were stronger. Braver. Just like the Spartans of old. Where are those Athenians now?”

Her voice boomed over the clash of weapons, but not with derision, but with a fearless call that demanded courage... Calling them to rise.

The soldiers glanced nervously between the Spartan queen and the advancing enemy.

Jessifoni turned sharply toward the general.

“You are proud Athenian soldiers, aren’t you?” she said. “Men who dedicate their lives to protecting your homes and families. Then stand and fight"

Jessifoni snatched a spear from the general and shoved it into the hand of a nervous soldier forcing him to stand up straight and patting him on the shoulder.

“Steady yourself,” she said, her gaze locking on him. "Prove that Athens does not cower."

Jessifoni climbed steadily onto the wooden platform that rose above the broken wall, her gaze sharpened. Gripping her spear firmly, she brought its sturdy shaft down with deliberate force against the rough-hewn boards beneath her feet. The sharp, resonant crack that erupted echoed powerfully through the narrow mountain pass, rolling like the thunderous beat of a war drum, stirring the spirits of the soldiers and signaling the fierce resolve of the battle ahead.

“These bandits are like ants!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Mindless drones, blindly following whoever leads them to slaughter!”

She pointed sharply toward the enemy horde, and her gaze were fierce.

“But you...” Her voice grew louder, booming like distant thunder. “You are soldiers of honor and democracy! Sons of warriors who came before you, and fathers to those yet unborn! Today, we stand and fight!”

A sense of resolve washed over the troops, and they straightened up. Fear started to subside as shoulders straightened, eyes gleamed with a fresh sense of purpose. Their hesitant breaths transformed into steady, determined exhales as she faced the charging horde, and murmurs of agreement spread between them.

You are proud Athenian soldiers, aren’t you?” she called. “Men who devote your lives to protecting home and hearth, stand now! Let no bandit make you cower!”

With a powerful twist of her hips, Jessifoni launched another spear. The weapon carved a deadly arc through the air before driving deep into the enemy ranks.

As bodies crumpled, her eyes caught a sudden glint among the fallen.

Bronze armor...

Persian army...? Her jaw clenched tightly as this confirmed her suspicion. This was no ordinary bandit raid..

Persian influence had silently crept into the mountains- either as puppet masters pulling the strings or shadowy manipulators behind the scenes.

A fierce flame of rage ignited within her chest.

Her mind flashed back to the blood-soaked fields of Thermopylae, where Spartan warriors had made their legendary last stand against the Persian invasion.

The memory blazed through her veins like fire. Without hesitation, Jessifoni leapt from the platform, charging forward with a spear and shield poised for battle.

The clash of bronze and iron rang through the narrow pass as she slammed her shield into a cluster of bandits, sending several crashing to the ground. Her spear struck next, piercing two foes with brutal efficiency.

She twisted the shaft violently until it snapped, then kicked the broken bodies aside. A battle cry burst from her lips, fierce enough to make the ground tremble beneath her feet.

Jessifoni tore through the enemy ranks like a storm. She stabbed, crushed, and drove forward with unstoppable fury. One hand gripped the shattered spear while the other smashed enemies aside like a charging bull.

Within moments, a ring of bodies marked her path, fallen soldiers scattered across the ground. Then, the enemy ranks split, revealing a figure that made the air itself seem heavier.

From the gap, a hulking brute emerged, clad in a grotesque patchwork of stolen Athenian, Spartan, and Thracian armor. In his massive hands gleamed an iron mace, each cruel spike catching the sunlight like jagged teeth.

He let out a booming laugh that rattled the valley.

“Bahahahaha! A woman dares fight a man’s battle? How amusing! Xerxes will have a fine concubine!” Belittle Jessifoni for being a woman in a warrior role assuming she can't match a man in battle.

Jessifoni’s lips curved into a slow, deadly grin- not a hint of amusement, only intent. She moved forward like a lioness stalking its prey... As she let her broken spear and shield fall to the ground. The air around her seemed to tense, as if the battlefield itself recognized the predator in their midst.

Δειλός…“Coward...” she breathed, her voice low and cold, yet the words carry weight across the valley like the roll of war drums.

“Do you even know who stands before you..?"

A sharp crack split the mountain air as her fist struck her open palm. The sound echoed through the narrow pass, bouncing from stone to stone. Several bandits flinched at once, their confidence faltering as they instinctively took a step back.

Jessifoni stood her ground, as her gaze fixed on them without the slightest trace of doubt. There was something in the way she held herself that made the men hesitate.

Her grin widened, a flash of steel cutting through the chaos around her.

“Queen of Sparta...”

The brute hefted his mace, yet even he hesitated, ensnared by the fierce intensity of Jessifoni's gaze. Her eyes never left him, it seemed to pierce his very spirit. She sank into a battle stance, her muscles coiled like drawn steel, embodying the poised ferocity of a predator ready to strike. Her heartbeat was steady, yet it pulsed with the rhythm of a war drum, resonating powerfully through the narrow mountain pass, a testament to her unyielding strength and determination.

“With the fury of Laconia made flesh,” she growled, her voice low, deadly, and commanding. “I am the storm that will break you.”

Their clash was brutal and primal, dust swirling as sweat and blood mingled on the battlefield. Around them, chaos reigned, men fighting for survival, honor, and the future of Greece.

A glancing blow struck her side, igniting pain. Jessifoni staggered briefly, but then she smiled. Pain was a reminder of life, a testament to her fight for something greater.

With a final, crushing strike, the mace flew from the brute’s grasp and clattered across the stones. Before he could recover, Jessifoni seized the front of his armor and yanked him forward with brutal force, dragging the massive man down as if his size meant nothing.

The brute staggered, his boots scraping against the ground as she hauled him close.

One thing about the queen; she rarely wore a helmet. It mattered to her that her enemies saw the face of the one who would crush them. Dark braids and loose strands clinging to her sweat-slicked skin. Across her eyes, streaks of crimson war paint.. but it was her captivating eyes that froze him in place. Despite the piercing blueness, the faint ring of red around her pupils that seemed to burn like fire on ice.

The enemy gasped for air. His confidence began to waver for the first time since the conflict started. The woman before him was anything but ordinary. She was staring directly at him, and for an instant he thought the gods had descended to the battlefield.. “Remember this day..." she hissed. “Today, Sparta and Athens stand united. And today, we show Persia the strength of free men and women.”

Her hand emerged from the folds of her armor, revealing a finely crafted dagger made for her alone, its steel catching the sun in a deadly gleam. The brute struggle, massive hands clawing at her, leaving shallow, stinging scratches across her shoulder and arm... but Jessifoni didn’t flinch. She saw nothing but red. With lethal precision, she drove the dagger into the base of his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, coating her face, streaking through her dark hair and war paint but her eyes never wavered, just staring coldly on him.. The brute fell forward, eyes wide in disbelief, life draining fast from him before he hit the ground with a loud thud.. And Jessifoni pulled the blade free.

The enemy ranks faltered, their lines breaking under the renewed fury of Spartan and Athenian warriors. The once overwhelming horde scattered in fear, retreating into the shadows from which they had emerged.

As the dust settled, Jessifoni stood among the wounded and weary, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. The soldiers looked not only to their weapons but to the queen who had rekindled their spirit.

An Athenian general approached her, deep respect and hope etched on his face. “Your courage saved us today, Queen Jessifoni. Athens owes Sparta and you a debt that words alone cannot repay.”

Jessifoni nodded solemnly. “The debt is mutual. Our peoples are bound by more than war..." she replied, her voice steady yet filled with emotion. “We share a destiny.”

She looked out over the battlefield, reflecting on the unity forged in blood and battle. “Together, we have shown the world the strength of our alliance.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the mountains in hues of fire and blood, Jessifoni stood alone at the edge of the battlefield. Her thoughts drifted to Sparta, to the war she must soon return to. True victory, she realized... It wasn’t measured by the enemies falling at her feet. It was in the soldiers who lifted their heads when fear had gripped them, in the fire she saw light in their eyes, and in the fragile hope that freedom might survive another day.