The Argive Ch 026 030

Chapter 26: A Job Well Done

"You two are back far sooner than I'd imagined."

Both Praxis and Agemon gave confident grins as they presented themselves to Cypselus back in Corinth two days after the death of Telestes. It was late in the evening, and the sun had already gone down, but Cypselus was most eager to hear from them once he heard they were approaching the city.

"Job well done, I'd say," said Agemon as he shot a look at Praxis. "You won't be hearing from Telestes again. Let's just say that no one will. Unfortunately for him, his body was left near the waters of the gulf the first night we arrived. A really sad affair if you think about it."

Cypselus actually chuckled. "Serves him right. I've actually had to arrest two prefects since you've been gone. Telestes had been busy trying to buy their loyalty for when he made his attempt to take the city. What you two did solidified my place here in Corinth even further."

"Telestes' fate couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," said Praxis. "He kept trying to buy us off as well. He was offering his house, his money and even his niece to get us to let him go."

Cypselus raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't take him up on that offer because why? Agemon, I can understand your position, but why you, Praxis? Surely you desire having nice things and good-looking women?"

Praxis thought over his answer before he responded. "Not like that, I don't. I want renown that goes beyond the average man, but I want it because I've earned it. Not because some fool of a man tried to buy me off. Telestes could never offer me what he didn't have in the first place."

"Wise words," remarked Cypselus. "Your stepfather would do well to pay attention to your career. You would be a good ruler, Praxis."

Praxis shrugged. "Luckily for me, I never have to venture into the realm of politics thanks to my stepbrother."

"Well, that is unfortunate," said Cypselus as he started to rub his chin. "So what took you both so long to get back to Corinth? You killed him on the first night you arrived, right? What's happened since then?"

Agemon beamed with a grin. "We paid a visit to Telestes' house and helped to relieve him of some excess supply of food and wine. Since it was his fault that we had to go to Megara in the first place, we figured it was the right thing to do."

Cypselus started laughing. "I'd expect nothing less. How was the hangover the following morning?"

Praxis grunted and rubbed his head. "Brutal. I think I can still feel it at times. If I turn my head too quickly, it reappears with a vengeance."

"You two certainly got an additional perk for your troubles. And it seems that everything is moving to plan here in Corinth as well. The Spartan garrison is preparing to depart, although there have been many rumors about why they are really leaving," said Cypselus, shrugging in the process. "It would appear that our rumor about the Spartan lovers absconding into the night isn't being taken too well."

"What do you make of that?" asked Agemon. "Are they figuring out that it's not true? Or is it all just talk for now?"

"Only time will tell," muttered Cypselus. "There have been some rumors about the official story not holding much weight. That Dion wasn't the type to run off with a male lover. That the other Spartan would never consent to a woman's role during coitus. In any case, they can't prove anything without a body. And as long as you two did your jobs right, they'll never find one."

"Not unless they want to go examine the bottom of the Gulf of Corinth," quipped Praxis. "That's about the only way they'd ever find them."

"All the better for our cause but this is still only part one of the plan," said Cypselus. "The real fun begins whenever the Spartans are gone and we tell them the alliance is broken. I'm anticipating a heavy-handed response from them."

"Are you worried about that?" asked Praxis. "After all, Corinth can't stand up to the Spartans alone."

"No, no she can't," agreed Cypselus. "But with a little bit of luck, she won't have to stand up on her own. Especially if she manages to talk one of her neighbors into an alliance."

"A neighbor like Argos?" suggested Agemon.

"Precisely," answered Cypselus, looking directly at Praxis. "I know you'll be heading back to your city tomorrow. I need you to do everything possible to get Damian into an anti-Spartan alliance with me. Corinth and Argos standing together just might have the power to stand up to Sparta. Even if Damian is hardheaded about the future of Argos, you need to try for all of us. We're the only block that might counter Spartan power."

Praxis took a deep breath before he offered a response. He knew that Damian would never consider acting against the Spartans, and it was madness to even suggest it to him.

And yet, Cypselus had shown him this week just how quickly the unthinkable could happen. In that time, a firm Spartan ally was now on the brink of rejecting them completely.

The balance of power was shifting. There was never a better time to make a big move.

But how could he get Damian to see that?

"I'll do everything in my power to make it happen," promised Praxis, already hating the vow on his lips. "I swear to the gods that Corinth won't stand alone against the Spartan rage."

Cypselus gave him a genuine smile. "You're a good man, Praxis of Argos. A very good man. And I don't intend to stand alone, even if Damian rejects us."

Praxis gave him a funny look. "What do you mean by that? Who else would stand alongside you?"

Cypselus reached into his belt and pulled out a worn message.

"For the first time in ages, I have promising news of a strong offer from Messenia," said Cypselus with a beaming grin. "King Nicomedes is receptive to an anti-Spartan alliance."

Praxis' jaw dropped. If Messenia joined them, they'd have not only the power to resist Sparta but to push her back on the defensive.

This might just change everything.

*****

There were few times in Xanthos' life when he didn't feel like a man.

One of those times was right now, as his father watched him approach his desk in his study. Damian had the kind of stare that could appear all-knowing, as if he could read every dark thought in your mind.

It was a feeling that produced a healthy amount of anxiety in Xanthos, for a very good reason.

"You're late," said Damian once Xanthos came to a stop. "Why are you always late?"

"Forgive me, Father, but I was in the middle of attending to some business," said Xanthos, praying that his father wouldn't ask about the nature of such business.

The truth of the matter was that Xanthos had been sleeping, catching up on his rest after a late night out on the city. Though he had plenty of duties for the daytime hours, he ended up shirking most of them in order to catch up on his sleep.

And ironically enough, Damian's expression seemed to indicate that he knew exactly what Xanthos had been up to.

"I'm terribly troubled to pull you away from such important business," quipped Damian, his every word dripping in sarcasm. "This won't take long, and then you can resume whatever task you had at hand."

"Thank you, Father," replied Xanthos, figuring he was getting off lightly. "What can I help you with?"

Damian's stare narrowed. "The Spartan envoy, a man by the name of Dorrusas, has been seen in Argos once more. He was the man that I met with, and the one that I couldn't make common ground with. Do you have any idea why he was in the city again?"

"Not in the slightest," lied Xanthos. "Perhaps he's here to renegotiate?"

"He's already gone," replied Damian. "Which is very curious in itself. Why come back if not to meet with me? And why would he leave without that happening? Something is not quite right in the city, and I can't put my finger on it yet. I have to wonder if this is indicative of a plot being formed behind my back."

Xanthos swallowed heavily and focused on keeping an innocent expression. "Do you think one of your enemies could be preparing to make a move? Our family has plenty of them in the city."

Damian regarded that question for several moments before he answered. "I don't know. It has been many years since someone has moved against my control of the city. I thought most of the resistance had been broken, but perhaps someone needs to be reminded again why our family rules Argos?"

Xanthos licked his lips. "Perhaps they do, Father."

"What I want to know is whether you've heard anything on the streets?" asked Damian, leveling his son with a serious glare. "Have you heard any whispers? Any discontent? Do you know if that envoy met with anyone?"

Xanthos made a show of thinking over the answer for a moment before shaking his head. It was a performance that he was immensely proud to display.

"Not a thing, Father. But I will ask around. If something is afoot, I will find out about it. And we will punish those that are responsible for it."

Damian nodded after a moment. "Yes, we will. Yes, we most certainly will."

Xanthos felt several seconds of intense tension as his father continued to stare at him. Did he know something? Was he toying with him? Was his end near?

Finally, Damian seemed to relent and the strength went out of his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Xanthos. I get too intense sometimes. There are some nights when I think I must see imaginary threats because they seem real to me but to no one else. Your mother thinks I don't get enough sleep. Perhaps she's right."

"We're all worried about you, Father," said Xanthos. "The mantle of ruling has been yours for many years. I worry that it's robbed you of your strength."

"Horn of Hades, I'm not an old man yet, Xanthos," said Damian, a smile growing on his face. "And I can still handle Argos. I may not be the same strapping young man I used to be but I can still be the king of this city. You can count on that."

"The people need a strong king," replied Xanthos ominously. "And I have no doubt they will always have the king they deserve."

The elusive metaphor went over his head entirely. "Yes, as you say," Damian replied, distracted. "By the way, the Feast of Hera will start in two days. Your stepmother has been working feverishly to make this an important event this year. I want to make sure you're in attendance. The people need to see their next king cares for his city."

Xanthos bowed his head. "Of course, Father. I wouldn't miss the celebrations for the world."

Damian gave him a stern look. "And don't forget that Praxis is due back from exile this week as well. I don't want any more fights to break out between the two of you. You've gotten in enough trouble because of that boy. Let him train the army while you focus on the city. You two don't need to cross paths any more than what is necessary."

Xanthos' lip curled up into a sneer that his father didn't see. "Don't worry, Father. I have many other matters to occupy my time right now. Praxis is at the very bottom of that list."

Chapter 27: Coming Home

The following morning was the last one that Praxis spent in Corinth. The return to the city, alongside the killing of Telestes, coincided with the expiration of his two-week exile from Argos.

It was a bittersweet feeling to leave the city, especially considering that Praxis rather liked Corinth. There were the occasional hard feelings in the city, mostly connected with Astara, but for the most part, he enjoyed living there as well as the friendship he'd struck up with Agemon.

"Safe travels to you, my friend," said Agemon, offering a firm hand that morning just before his departure. "You'll have to keep in touch once you get back to your city."

"I will do that," replied Praxis. "And you'll have to stay out of trouble while I'm there. No more killing Spartans or losing your legendary temper."

Agemon grinned with pride. "I can promise you my temper will not lose so easily but as for killing Spartans, well, there won't be any Spartans left in Corinth after today."

That was certainly true, and Praxis had heard the rumor of their departure this evening to go back to Sparta. Cypselus was quite satisfied to see them go as were the rest of the people of Corinth, eager to be freed of their occupational tyranny.

"Let's hope they never come back," said Praxis, nodding his head. "And that Corinth will be truly free moving forward."

Agemon waved his hand. "I have a feeling it won't be that easy. This was merely the first stage of the game. I'd rather hope the next stage goes to our plan as well. But if the Spartans come for Corinth, I'll be ready for them."

"

You'll

be ready," corrected Praxis. "But the rest of your people might not be. You ought to train them. Turn them into a formidable fighting force. If every Corinthian fought like you, your city would be invincible."

Agemon's chin rose. "Not everyone in the city can fight like me. I'm the best of the best, you know that."

Praxis started to chuckle. "Yes, I know. But with your help, you can turn bad warriors into mediocre ones. And you can turn mediocre ones into good ones. The better prepared you are for war, the better your chances are at surviving to see the end of it."

"Is that what you do with the Argive forces? Is that why you train them so hard?"

Praxis nodded. "Argos has always had very aggressive neighbors. From the primitive Cynurians to the dominant Spartans, our warriors have had to answer the call of defense too many times. It certainly helps when their skills are better than their enemy's."

"I will train them then, like you do," promised Agemon. "That way, when this talk of an alliance with King Nicomedes of Messenia comes into fruition, he'll find an army of Corinthians ready to uphold their freedom."

Praxis pursed his lips. "Do you really believe Cypselus when he says the Messenians are offering an alliance? My stepfather has dealt with the Messenians for a long time. They disdain alliances with other cities, even to their detriment. A Messenian promise doesn't hold a lot of weight to me."

Agemon shrugged. "I'm not sure but I'm inclined to believe Cypselus. If it falls through, then what else can we do? There are still other cities that might resist Spartan hegemony."

Praxis wasn't so sure about that, especially if they were talking about other cities on the Peloponnese. Sparta, Argos, Corinth, and Messene (the capital city of the Messenians) were the four most dominant cities. Everything else, like Cynuria, or Olympia in Elis or Sicyon in Achaea, were much smaller, almost the same size as Megara.

Quite frankly, there weren't any other lands of size that could tip the balance of the scales against the Spartans if the Messenians didn't cooperate.

Praxis didn't verbalize his doubts though. He wanted to believe that the Messenians were coming around, and they had a chance against the Spartans, even if it was a small one.

Hope was a lot more palatable than despair.

"No matter what shakes out, you'll always have a friend in Argos," said Praxis finally, putting his hand on the big Corinthian's shoulder. "And if you ever find yourself in my city, you'll need to come to the palace."

Agemon grinned. "I think I'd come just so I can knock around that stepbrother you told me about. From the sounds of things, I could use it as an opportunity to put him in his place."

Praxis started to laugh. "I'd pay to see that happen."

"As would I. Anyway, safe travels, my friend. By the next time you see me, big things will be afoot," promised Agemon before leaning closer. "And hopefully, Cora will be my woman by that time. I have a speech ready to give to her and everything."

Praxis raised his eyebrow. "What kind of speech?"

Agemon held up his hands. "It goes like this--hello, beautiful morning, isn't it?" Agemon let out several fake laughs as part of the sketch. "Would you happen to know where I can get several wagonloads full of shit?"

Praxis recoiled backward. "Horn of Hades, why would you possibly ask her about where to find a wagonload of shit, Agemon?"

The big man never stopped beaming with a smile. "Her family owns a farm outside the city. I'm sure they have plenty of shit from their animals. And it's good fertilizer all the same. It's the perfect entry into further conversation with her!"

Praxis gave him a weird look. "But what would you do with all that shit? You don't own a farm, Agemon. Even if she gave it to you, what would you do with it?"

Agemon opened his mouth and then paused, the smile finally dropping from his face. He struggled for a moment to find the right words before he admitted defeat. "Maybe I should try another angle."

Praxis couldn't contain his laughter. "Just start with her name. Don't commit to buying anything from her family, no matter how good it sounds in your head."

"I still have much to learn about women," said Agemon a bit too honestly. "But hopefully, there is still time for me."

"I hope so too," replied Praxis. "Take care, Agemon. I will see you soon enough. Stay out of trouble!"

The big Corinthian waved at Praxis as they separated and Praxis made his way to the western city gate.

Traveling at this time of the day meant falling in behind one of the many trading caravans that were heading toward Argos, and Praxis found one smaller one that was making good time. Unlike the first journey to Corinth, the return trip had nothing out of sorts. There wasn't a hint of any bandits, although Praxis wasn't naive enough to think they were gone forever.

Not with the way Damian ran Argos. A temporary reprieve was all that had been earned for the travelers between the two cities.

It was close to dark by the time Praxis saw the familiar city gate of Argos. He greeted two of the guards standing watch, men under the employ of Damian who belonged to the household guard, and one of them escorted him to the palace.

Not surprisingly, the first familiar face he saw at the palace was his mother's.

"My son!"

Doris swept into her son's arms and he held her against his chest for several moments as she wept with happiness.

"I'm so happy you're back," she said once she let go, looking into his eyes.

Praxis was certainly glad to see her as well but she didn't look that great. She looked like she'd aged two years in the space of two weeks, and for a woman of her age, that was saying a lot.

"Mother, you look exhausted," said Praxis, his hand touching her silver hair. "Are you not feeling well? What has you so down?"

Doris gave him a small but exhausted smile. "You know the Feast of Hera starts this week, Praxis. All the accommodations for the feast have fallen on my shoulders, and I'm not exactly as young as I look. This year's feast really has me feeling my age."

"Well, we need to get you some help then," said Praxis. "You need some time to rest. You can't do it all yourself."

Doris waved her hand. "But that's the only way I know that things are getting done the way I want them. In any event, it's quite all right, Praxis. The Feast will begin in two days, at which point I can get some rest. My ordeal is almost over."

Praxis wasn't that relieved to hear that. Even two more days at this pace would run her ragged.

"Still, I will find you some good help," he promised. "Anyone that might be able to lessen your burden."

"You can do that but I guarantee she won't use them," came another familiar voice.

Praxis looked up to see Damian entering the room. His stepfather had none of the warmth of his mother as he approached. Quite honestly, he looked almost disappointed to see that Praxis was now home.

"I trust you didn't get into too much trouble in Corinth?" asked Damian, his eyebrow arched. "Or did you manage to get yourself exiled there too?"

"I managed to make some new friends while in Corinth," announced Praxis. "Which reminds, Stepfather, I would like to have a word with you about some business that came about in the city."