Aristomenis, the dog who defied Sparta

They went out into the open and started climbing uphill. His mind worked feverishly to find a way to escape, but the phalanx of the Homoi surrounded him. As they ascended the rugged slopes of Mount Taygetus, he began to notice that along the path, light infantry were stationed, bows and spears in hand. At one point, he stumbled. The phalanx stopped, and everyone turned their spears toward him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light infantry further ahead raising their bows. So they feared him that much… He straightened his back and moved proudly toward the chasm. Gradually, on the steep slope, the rocks began to part, forming a gap. His mind told him it was all over, there was no escape. Yet his heart still hoped. He remembered having once said that as long as it beat, he would fight. And if he were to die, he would do so with his head held high, like a Messanian. A gust of cold air snapped him out of his thoughts. Before him yawned the chasm with its mouth wide open, like the gates of Hades. The chill emanating in the midsummer air testified to its bottomless depth. How many of my own might lie there, he wondered. How silent this tomb… The Spartans did not let him think further. With the same step they had climbed, they now pushed him toward the abyss. They did not give him a moment to stand, to perhaps say something. They would kill him as one kills a puppy one does not want—silently. Suddenly, the instinct for self-preservation overcame his pride. Terror filled his mind. He tried to pull back, but a crowd of bodies pushed him toward the cliff. His bare feet slipped on the loose dust. For a moment, everything froze. He stood at the threshold of Hades. He could smell the earth and the dampness. As they pushed him one last time, he planted strength in his legs and leapt into the void. He would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream.