Chapter 126: Foreigner No More
The next morning, it only took about an hour of marching before Praxis and his small army arrived near the western gate of the city of Argos.
For Praxis, it was a bittersweet homecoming. While it was incredible to see the city in front of him,
his
city, it was still held by the enemy. Argive warriors manned the gates, bolstered by a Spartan garrison that gave them a tactical advantage.
And yet, it was so close. Here it was, directly in front of him and well within his grasp. Everything now hinged on making Argos the center of operations, his base to continue the fight against Nikandros.
They just couldn't fail today. Not after coming this far.
With the army drawing up in front of the gates, Praxis, Asterion, and Mikon scouted the city's defenses as well as their plan of attack.
"Well, in terms of numbers, it's the smallest force we'll be going against," said Asterion, kicking off the war council. "But it's also the first time the spear phalanx will be on the offensive. And with it being against a fortified position, that makes me a little nervous."
"The city's defenses are considerable," said Praxis. "But not invincible. The Spartans took it easily enough months ago, and there's no reason we can't do the same. The biggest question for me today is what will happen when we attack."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Mikon.
Praxis gestured toward the city. "There are Argives
and
Spartans defending that gate. I expect the Spartans to fight but will the Argives? I think their entire defense predicates on cooperation. If the Argives won't fight, will the Spartans?"
"Do you think it would come to that?" asked Asterion. "Do you think the Argives wouldn't fight us?"
Praxis shrugged. "I don't know. They know me, which helps the situation, but this is still a Messenian force for the most part. They might see us as a foreign force."
"Kind of like how they still see you as a foreigner?" asked Asterion.
Asterion had a good point. The people in Praxis' home city still thought of him as the foreigner, the one that was different from them. If they couldn't fully accept him after living there his entire life, what made him think they might not fight him during his homecoming?
In the end, they had to be prepared for all eventualities. Even if that meant that Argives had to die today.
"We can only do the best we can," said Praxis finally. "One way or another, we know there aren't that many Spartans in the city, with a good percentage being pulled to support the fight against Messene. The Argives will be an unknown quality too. If we strike decisively and quickly, we might just find ourselves the masters of the city sooner than we might expect."
"No time like the present then," said Mikon. "My men will support the phalanx as best we can. Lightly-armed warriors will be useful in the city to guard the army's flanks."
"The army's confidence is high too, especially after the last two battles," said Asterion. "If there is any force that can get the job done, it's this one."
"That's all I needed to hear," said Praxis, grinning. "Let's get ready to make our assault."
Within half an hour, the army was moving forward against the western city gate. They were locked together in tight formation, with each man's shield protecting the man to his left. Praxis had the normal size of the rank lessened so they could make it through the gate, which had the effect of just creating more ranks at the end of the formation. In doing so, he would be able to rely on the force of the entire army to "push" against the defenders.
As the army moved closer, the Spartans and Argives at the gate moved to counter them. They set up in a loose formation, giving each man room to fight in the more traditional style, however, once they were closer, Praxis could see a look of uncertainty in the eyes of many in the defending army.
Especially as they saw him at the head of his own forces.
The Argives in the defense started to chatter amongst themselves. They pointed at Praxis, and he could even see them mouth the word foreigner. As shocked as they were to see him, it didn't change anything just yet. They kept their positions as Praxis gave the order for his army to halt when they were only yards away.
What followed next was always the most anxious part of any battle--the time before the fighting when both armies could look into the faces of the men opposite them. They could size up their enemies and put a human face to the carnage that was about to happen. For many men, it was the worst part of the battle, worse than the threat of dying.
It was at this impasse that Praxis had an idea. He was already near the front so he moved from his position into the ground between the two forces. He was close enough to the defenders that any slinger might be able to take him out, but something was driving him forward. Something also forced him to start speaking to the defenders.
"My name is Praxis of Argos," he said with a booming voice. "Many of you here know me already. Several of you have trained under me when I still led the army to this city, the same army that was betrayed by my stepbrother when he let the Spartans enter the city uncontested."
There was some jostling in their ranks but Praxis could tell he had their complete attention, even that of the Spartans posted with them.
"Argos has been done wrongly by the Spartans in recent months," continued Praxis. "They've disbanded our army, leaving only a skeletal force. They've forced Argos onto her knees, becoming no more than a servant to the vicious Spartan king. They've gone on campaigns of carnage throughout the Peloponnese, subjugating one city after another in their thirst for blood. Today, I say no more. Today, I say that the Spartans have come far enough."
"That's why I'm here now, to take back
my
city," said Praxis, beating his chest. "My stepbrother, King Xanthos, is dead, killed by my own hand. With his death comes the death of Argive servitude to Spartan masters. To the Argives of the city, I have no quarrel with you. I want you to join me in making a better Argos, a freer Argos. I want you to join me in throwing out these Spartan dogs so we can retake our rightful position as the leading city on the Peloponnese!"
Now there was some serious contention within the defending ranks. The Spartans could be seen yelling at the Argives, reminding them of their obligations to King Nikandros. In a way, it was only reinforcing the words that Praxis had just given them, and it was only making their position worse.
"Join with me now, my brothers," yelled Praxis. "And let's put an end to Spartan hegemony once and for all!"
Just behind him, his army gave a mighty cheer, bashing their spears against their shields in support, but to Praxis' utter amazement, the Argives opposite of them cheered too, which caused the Spartans to break ranks in an attempt to discipline them.
It didn't work. Several of the Argives fought back, using their swords against any Spartan reprisals. A few Spartans fell, but so too did some Argives. The vast majority melted away though, coming to Praxis' side with looks of gritty determination.
When it was all over, the defenders had been greatly weakened. They could tell too, as their confidence quickly evaporated in the face of the odds in front of them. With an enemy force in front of them and a potentially hostile city to their rear, the Spartans did the only thing they could do in that situation.
They retreated.
It was a marvelous sight. Praxis had never seen the Spartans retreat in such disarray before. It was ironic in a way, because their disastrous rout mimicked the one that he faced in Argos so many months before.
With their force broken, there was nothing stopping Praxis from giving the order to advance. The Messenian force moved through the gate, their flanks guarded by Mikon's men as well as the Argives who'd come over to their cause already.
They found a city brimming with curiosity. As they moved down the main thoroughfare of the city, the Argives came out in droves to watch the procession. Many of them spotted Praxis immediately, leading to lively commentary as they passed.
"Is that the foreigner I see?"
"No, it can't be. I thought Xanthos had him killed!"
"I think it was the opposite. Xanthos is dead!"
"The foreigner is back? Praise the gods!"
By the time the army reached the base of the Aspida hill, crowds were starting to gather. The unity of the phalanx was starting to falter as the Argive citizens celebrated the soldiers coming to their rescue, hugging them and offering them bits of food. Ordinarily, Praxis might have told them to maintain their discipline but he found that the Spartan barracks near the palace was deserted, with those warriors no doubt joining their friends in the retreat from the city.
With the city secure, there was only one thing left to do.
As the army celebrated with the Argives, Praxis ascended to the palace alone. The last time he'd been here, Xanthos had just murdered Damian, and the Spartans were taking over what was left of the city. Today though, the palace looked oddly pensive, like it was still waiting to pass judgment on him as he entered through the main entrance.
He found that it hadn't changed much in the time that it belonged to Xanthos. Many of the rooms and hallways still looked the same. Even his own bedroom, which Praxis thought might not exist at this point in time, was kept the same.
At one time, it belonged to a wayward boy without much promise for the future.
