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The Spartans hailed Brasidas as a hero.
In the early days of the war, when their futile occupation of Attica dragged on,
and the expected victory never came,
Brasidas was a rare figure of inspiration:
the protector of Spartan honor against vicious Athenian pirates.
But the Athenian raids endangered more than Sparta’s honor:
turmoil in the Peloponnese threatened the very foundations of Spartan society.
Centuries earlier, you see,
the Spartans had marched across the mountains into Messenia, conquered its entire people,
and forced them into perpetual serfdom.
Hereafter the Messenians were called helots
and toiled year-round for their Spartan masters.
The Spartans were utterly dependent on these helots —
as dependent as they were fearful,
for they knew that given the slightest chance,
the helots would gladly eat their masters alive.
Like a field of dry heather,
the Peloponnese would need only a tiny spark to burst into flames —
and the Athenian raiders knew it.
Brasidas donned his helmet, its horsehair crest swaying in the salty breeze,
and marched down to the coast.