The Argive Ch 076 080

The Argive -- Chapters 076-080

*****

Chapter 76: Playing with Dirt

Time seemed to move slowly from the prison of the cave.

At least, that was what Praxis thought as he watched the sun arc from east to west throughout the course of the day. He would have thought time would have moved faster, ushering him more quickly to certain death, but that wasn't the case.

It seemed to be taunting him, keeping him perennially on edge as he waited for the bands to return and for the king of the Band to carry out his sentence.

At least Lysandra was resting. The beautiful redhead was asleep, her head in his lap as she struggled for the least bit of comfort before the end. Even with all they'd faced in recent weeks, he never would have guessed this would be the way their journey finished.

How did they survive everything else only to die at the hands of bandits? It was madness.

Even still, Praxis didn't intend to go out without a fight. He had some semblance of a plan forming, but it was still dull and gray around the edges. He knew what he wanted to happen but not how to get there. It was as he watched the sun transit through the sky that he debated every possible outcome, and he struggled to find one that gave him the best chance of success.

"You look deep in thought right now."

Praxis looked over to see Zenais watching him. The buxom warrior had also seen better days. There was a bruise on the side of her head--evidence of the lost fight against the thieves--but her eyes also held a tiredness that surprised him.

It was almost like she was accepting of the fate they were about to share.

"Just trying to figure a way out of this that doesn't end with any of us being killed or raped," replied Praxis.

"Have anything solid yet?"

"I'm still working on it," replied Praxis with a shrug.

"Well, think harder, will you? We don't have a lot of daylight left, and I really don't like how those guys are looking at me."

That seemed true enough. Two of the guards hadn't taken their eyes off of Zenais. Without her armor, she was only wearing her ill-fitted men's chiton and it didn't leave a lot to the imagination.

"I know what I want to do but not how to start it," admitted Praxis quietly, being careful to stay out of earshot from the guards.

"That's not very comforting," hissed Zenais. "So what part do you have already?"

Before he answered her, Praxis looked over at the king. He could just see Archimedes from their vantage point in the cave, as it wasn't hard to tell which man was the king by his clothing. For being the king of thieves, he certainly looked the part, which was the spark of an idea that Praxis needed.

"Pride," replied Praxis quietly.

"What?" asked Zenais. "What did you say? Pride?"

Praxis nodded. "I'm going to use pride against him. His own hubris. I just need to figure out a way to get to him."

"Well, your chances of doing that are much easier now before the bands get back," whispered Zenais. "So do you need a distraction?"

She grabbed her breasts with both hands, leaving no doubt as to what kind of distraction she was going to offer. Praxis shook his head.

"As tantalizing as that offer is, we can't do it now. I have to wait until the bands get back."

"Are you crazy?" asked Zenais a little too loudly. Her voice caused the guards to glare at them, and she whispered her next statement. "How would it do us any good for the bands to be back here? You want to cut your way through

more

men?"

"It's hard to explain," admitted Praxis.

Zenais scoffed. "It's hard to comprehend too! Are you thinking with the wrong head again?"

Praxis actually laughed at that. "I don't think so. This plan doesn't have anything to do with you or Lysandra, beyond getting you to freedom. But it's just a little bit creative and I have to hope that we get this right, or else."

"That's not very comforting," groaned Zenais. "You better start praying to your patron god. I hope you've made a recent sacrifice."

"Athena has my back," promised Praxis. "I have no doubt about that."

"Well, at least you have good taste in goddesses," replied Zenais. "I also like Athena."

"Yet another woman gets between us," he teased. "This is starting to happen far too often now."

To his surprise, Zenais started to laugh. When she looked at him again, he saw a strange emotion in her eyes. It wasn't the muted disdain or perplexity that he was used to seeing from her. Rather, it almost looked like warmth. Or affection.

"You know, you're not like the other men that I've met," she admitted. "You're in a category all of your own."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"It's not a bad thing," she replied. "I just didn't expect it. Most men that I've met fall into two categories. There are those that have no redeeming qualities, no impressive strength or fighting capability. Those are easiest to handle. The other category are those that have some skill or intelligence but find themselves threatened by a woman that has them too. You really don't seem that threatened by me."

Praxis shrugged. "I like you, I guess. Don't get me wrong--I don't like that you keep pursuing Lysandra. But I find that when we talk, we have more in common than we thought."

Zenais smiled. "I've found that too. And while I'm still committed to stealing your woman from you, at least I might actually feel bad about it when it happens."

"If it happens at this point," added Praxis.

"Too true." Zenais looked away for a moment as she bit her lip. "I guess I want to say sorry for the way I treated you. I'm not really sold on this plan of yours, so if this is to be our end, I'm sorry for what I've said to you. I had to create a third category of men today because of you, and I'm grateful that I did."

"You're not too bad either, Zenais," replied Praxis with a smile. "And I'm going to do everything we can to get all three of us out of here."

Zenais picked up a clump of dirt and let it sift through her fingers. "That's really refreshing to hear that because I'd really like to not get raped and killed."

Something clicked in Praxis' head at that point as he watched the dirt fall to the ground. He looked over at the guards and then back at Zenais. He finally had his idea.

"What?" she asked, noticing something was different. "You're

surprised

that I don't want to be raped?"

"No, I have my idea," he said with a grin. "The entire idea now, thanks to you."

Zenais winced. "I don't like the sound of this at all."

"Just trust me, okay?"

"Do I have any other choice?"

"No."

"Well, here goes nothing."

*****

It took just another hour before the first band returned, and it was quickly followed by the next. By the time the sun was going down in the western sky, the last band had returned and the entire group settled in for dinner and drinking in enjoyment of their fruits of victory.

Quite a few of the individual bands noticed they had two more prisoners on guard and many of them leered as soon as they got their eyes on Zenais. There was even one band leader that stopped by, a man whose face was familiar to Praxis and Zenais.

Ismenios smirked at them from just behind the guards. "Fancy seeing you two again! I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time."

Neither Praxis nor Zenais replied to that, turning their heads instead.

Ismenios let out a loud whistle at Zenais. "Can't wait to get my turn with you, sweetheart. At least the king hasn't marked you down as his personal wench like the redhead."

Ismenios was still laughing when he walked away. Praxis turned to Zenais. "What does he mean about being marked?"

"Lysandra told me about that whenever you spoke with the king," whispered Zenais. "No one has touched her yet, thank the gods. Apparently, Archimedes wants her for himself but he hasn't had a chance to take her yet. Although, I'm sure that will change tonight."

Praxis shook his head. "He's not going to get the chance. Now that all the bands are back, are you ready to carry out the plan?"

Zenais let out a heavy sigh. "Are you really sure about this?"

"Very sure. Well, mostly sure. Are you with me?"

"So comforting, Praxis. What other choice do I have?"

"That's the spirit," replied Praxis, chuckling. With those words, he looked over at one of the guards, locking eyes with one of them.

"Do they just let anyone join this band that wants to?" asked Praxis loudly to the guard. "Or do they just show preference to anyone who's fucked one of their sheep before?"

The remark landed exactly as Praxis wanted it to, and the guard grunted loudly and started huffing. From behind them, Lysandra had woken up and she quickly closed the distance with him.

"Praxis," hissed Lysandra. "What are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here," he whispered. "Watch this."

"What about the other guy with you?" asked Praxis loudly. "You two have a certain look about you. Like to diddle each other's bums, right? Which of you is the top and which is the bottom?"

The two guards looked at each other before glaring at Praxis once more. One of them took a step closer.

"I sure hope this works," muttered Zenais.

"Shut your mouth, boy," barked one of the guards. "Before we shut it for you."

"Yep, that's the one," said Praxis, pointing at the guard that just spoke. "The one with a face like Medusa. No wonder he has to fuck goats."

"Last warning," seethed the guard. "Before I knock your teeth in."

"You and I both know you won't do shit," taunted Praxis. "You have about as much skill with that sword as a blind priest with two left feet."

The guard whipped his sword out of the scabbard and started walking toward Praxis, taking slow, menacing steps.

"What's your problem?" called out Praxis to the other man. "Just going to let your boyfriend fight your battles for you?"

That certainly did it, and now both men were rapidly closing the distance between Praxis. He waited until the last possible second before giving the signal to Zenais. "Now!"

At that moment, both Praxis and Zenais pulled back their arms. In their palms was a small mound of dirt. They each took aim at a separate guard and then launched the dirt directly at their faces.

The guards never expected it. One moment, they were moving forward quickly to teach Praxis some manners. In the next, they were blinded, desperately trying to rub the dirt out of their eyes.

It was the opportunity that Praxis needed. He leapt into action, barreling into the first guard and knocking him off his feet. In the process, the guard dropped his sword while Zenais did a similar move with the second guard. Their surprise couldn't have worked out better for the prisoners. In a matter of moments, Praxis and Zenais were able to get their hands on their swords, quickly dispatching the guards. They then turned to each other, using their newly-acquired swords to cut the ropes that bound their wrists and ankles together.

"Too easy," said Praxis gleefully as both men were silenced for good. "Just like I planned."

If only the rest of it was that easy. Despite the surprise attack, the commotion had drawn the attention of the band nearest to the cave. Those men watched their fellow bandits get their throats slit by the prisoners and they quickly reacted, moving to surround the cave. Their action spurred on more bandits until quite suddenly, the entire Band gathered around the cave, weapons out and ready for a fight.

Even the king had his sword out, and he glared at Praxis from behind his men.

"What now?" hissed Zenais nervously. "Is this part of your plan?"

"Just follow my lead," replied Praxis as he looked over at the king.

"Archimedes, I challenge you for the leadership of the King's Band!"

Chapter 77: The Duel

There was a deafening silence amongst the Band as Praxis uttered his challenge. Many of them didn't know what to do. Quite a few wondered if the challenge was even serious or whether this prisoner had lost his mind.

There were some, like Ismenios, who would have paid to watch that fight, if only to see this Argive taught the last lesson of his life. The last he would ever need.

When no one responded, Praxis repeated his challenge.

"Are you man enough to defend your kingdom?" yelled Praxis while pointing his sword directly at Archimedes. "Or are you too afraid to fight me?"

Rather than get insulted, Archimedes started to laugh.

"Very amusing," he said while shaking his head. "But ultimately foolish. You have no way to escape, not when all my men are here. I'm not sure what your little plan is but if you don't want to be skewered like a wild boar, you might want to throw down your weapons now."

"Who said anything about escape?" challenged Praxis. "I'm not trying to escape. I'm trying to take your place! That is, if you're man enough to fight me. You remember how to fight, don't you, Archimedes? Or has the passage of time robbed you of your strength?"

Archimedes seemed to find that greatly amusing but one thing that gave Praxis hope was watching the reaction of the others. Many of the bandits weren't showing any hints of a smile. For them, challenging the king was an ambition that many of them could ascribe to at one time--a matter to be taken seriously.

And even a prisoner could hope to challenge the king. That was the nature of their Band. The man who defeated the king became the king, no matter his standing before the challenge.

As such, they looked with some sincerity back at Archimedes, who was now finally beginning to understand how precarious his position was.

"He's not serious," said Archimedes to his men, once he noticed the change in their demeanor. "He's a fool and a prisoner. That doesn't give him the right to make that kind of challenge."

"Not from where I see it," said one man, a grizzled, middle-aged man with a shaved head. He then pointed at Praxis. "Our rules are very simple, King Archimedes. Any man that hopes to take the throne must spill blood to get there. His challenge sounds real to me."

"My challenge is real," insisted Praxis. "And I already have a weapon. I swear it by the gods that I will take Archimedes' life before nightfall."

That boast caused a degree of chatter to erupt from the bandits and by now, Archimedes seemed to realize that things were turning against him. All amusement left his face, only to be replaced by something resembling disdain.

"You can't defeat me," mocked Archimedes. "You couldn't even rescue your women! What hope do you have of challenging the king of the Band?"

"I don't need hope for what I'm about to do," replied Praxis grimly. "All I need is to see your broken body lying on the ground before me. Only that will satisfy me."

Archimedes growled at him. "Then you'll get your wish! You want a fight? You got one! Let's go right now!"

The men standing between Praxis and Archimedes parted ways, leaving a clear path for him to follow. On the other side, Archimedes began to pace from side to side while brandishing his sword. He was so upset that he was snarling, looking like some kind of rabid dog that needed to be put down.

And while Praxis was elated that his plan looked to be working, he still needed to fight and beat the best warrior on the plateau. One who had never lost in all his time as their king.

Praxis felt the weight of the challenge with every step forward he took. He cut a path through the Band, feeling all of their eyes and expectations upon him. Some of them sneered at him, only waiting for the moment when he would be struck down by their king while others seemed to be silently urging him forward, perhaps because they were tired of Archimedes' leadership.

One way or another, the focus of the entire Band was on the two men as they squared off with each other in the center of the plateau.

"Stupid boy," growled Archimedes as they circled one another. "You were going to die one way or another tonight. And now you've chosen the way of pain."

Praxis gripped his blade in his hands and said a silent prayer to Athena. He placed his feet so that he could begin his attack when ready. When he was set, he met Archimedes' eyes.

"Your reign ends tonight," said Praxis calmly.

Archimedes barely waited for the sentence to end. His face contorted into a look of anger as he charged, raising his sword above his head.

The fight was on.

Praxis parried the first blow, bouncing the king's thrust out of the way before pivoting to the side to launch an attack of his own. Archimedes was expecting the area of attack and he brushed it away easily.

"Pathetic," barked the king. "I hope you have better moves than that if you want to defeat me!"

The king moved quickly to force Praxis off guard, driving the younger man backward toward the rest of the Band. At that moment, Praxis had to be careful to keep his footing as the rocks of the plateau could easily send him tumbling if he took the wrong step.

Meanwhile, Archimedes looked like a man that was quickly returning to form. He had great speed and he was focused on bringing it to bear against him. No sooner had Praxis parried one thrust than he was rushing to block another, leaving him perennially unfocused.

He had to find a way to regain control of the fight.

And the first thing that came to mind was the same tactic that sparked the fight to begin with.

"You fight like a man that's much younger than you really are," said Praxis, moving out of the way of another blow. "That's probably your biggest weakness."

"Weakness, I have no weakness," yelled the king, swinging his sword across Praxis' midsection. Praxis barely leapt out of the way in time.

"You move with no care for defense," continued Praxis. "Just for offense. Again, the moves of a much younger man."

"I only need offense," replied the king. "There's no room for defensive fighting in the Band! We take what we want because we are the best fighters in all of Greece!"

A temporary cheer went up from the Band upon hearing that. It caught Archimedes' attention, which allowed Praxis the opportunity to launch a new attack, forcing the king back. In doing so, they moved back to the center of the plateau, and the king was placed on the defensive.

"A well-rounded warrior knows how to defend as well as attack," said Praxis, showcasing his own moves. He made several sharp thrusts at the king's flank, nearly catching him. The king took a step back onto a rock that jutted out from the plateau, using it as leverage to lunge forward and begin another attack.

"Why don't I teach you a few lessons of my own?" said the king, attacking once more. "Never start a fight that you can't hope to win!"

His moves this time around were deadly but they were slower than the first attack the king launched. Praxis could even see it in the king's face. He was exhausting himself with his constant attacking. After two more back-and-forth rounds, the king was breathing heavily and slowing down even further.

At that moment, Praxis knew he just had to keep enduring and he would eventually wear him down.

The king seemed to sense that too. His attacks became more desperate as time went on, like he knew he was on a timer that was going to give up any second.

"Stop dancing around like a girl and fight me!" yelled Archimedes, now wheezing because of his exertion.

The moment Praxis had been waiting for arrived. He lunged forward, unleashing a series of thrusts on the king. They were the same moves that the king had easily blocked earlier, but his fatigue made it so that he could barely keep up. Archimedes was pushed back steadily until he made his first mistake.

The king yelled out as Praxis' blade swiped his side, cutting deep into his flesh. Gritting his teeth, Archimedes hunched to the side, protecting the wound but throwing him deeply off balance. After centering himself, Praxis pushed through with his last attack.