The Argive Ch 136 141

The Argive -- Chapters 136-141

*****

Chapter 136: Last Chance for Peace

It was on the second day after leaving Argos that Praxis received the report about the arriving Spartans, who were only a short distance away with their entire army.

It had been an uneventful thirty-six hours. Yesterday, the army left at dawn to begin their trek south, saying goodbye to their loved ones before their heavy feet hit the road. By evening, they pitched camp not far from the Cynurian border, knowing that once they crossed, they would truly be in enemy territory.

Praxis arranged for the entire army to stop marching a couple hours early in order to allow for extra training. Since many of the men were still not much more than raw recruits, it was imperative that they be whipped into shape before they faced off against the Spartans.

After a few hours of training and a night of rest, the army rose early the next morning to get back on the road.

And it was just after they crossed the border into Cynuria that the Spartans were spotted.

"My king, we've received a runner from the enemy camp," noted Asterion, who was trailed by the Spartan runner himself. "Nikandros is asking to speak with you privately before the battle."

"Before the battle?" asked Praxis. "I wonder what for. What could he possibly want?"

"Maybe he wants to surrender already," joked Agemon. "Maybe he knows he can't possibly defeat us."

Praxis smiled at his friend but said nothing. As much as he would have loved to believe Agemon, that wouldn't be the case today. When Nikandros saw that he outnumbered Praxis by two-to-one, the Spartan king would be itching for an attack.

More than likely, this would be a face-saving measure, a plea for Praxis to surrender instead of the other way around.

"Let's listen to what he has to say," said Praxis before he turned to look at Agemon and Cypselus, who was nearby. "Keep the army training while I'm gone. I don't want to lose a single second to idleness when the men can be practicing the formation."

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Cypselus. "If it's a meeting between the kings, surely I should be present?"

"Not a bad idea," replied Praxis. "Agemon, can you handle the training?"

"Can I handle the training?" repeated Agemon before blowing air between his lips. "I can handle it. Just promise me that you'll leave a piece of Nikandros for me."

"Deal," replied Praxis.

With those words, Praxis and Cypselus left their army to attend to the Spartan king. They just so happened to be positioned on excellent defensive ground, which saved them having to search for it. The field they were in was shaped like a half-circle, where the edges were the raised ground that sloped down gently toward the Spartan position. About a half mile from the raised ground was a thickly wooded area, which would make operations with either the phalanx or the more traditional fighting style impossible.

Praxis' army set up a perimeter around the crest of the hill, which just so happened to be anchored to the road on the extreme left flank. If Nikandros wished to dislodge them from this position, he would have to spread his men out on the field, in front of the woods, and attack up the hill at them.

It was the best position to take advantage of their lack of numbers, and Praxis resolved to stay rooted to the spot until the battle could commence.

They met the Spartan king on a small open plain that was just a little further down the road. Like themselves, he was accompanied by a small bodyguard for protection. Nikandros smirked as they approached, as if he was about to have a joke at their expense.

"Well, if it isn't the great Praxis of Argos," said Nikandros before chuckling to himself. "And Cypselus of Corinth. How is it that we find ourselves on this battlefield, hmm?"

"You know very well why we're here," replied Praxis.

"Indeed, I do,

boy

," quipped Nikandros.

"Show him some respect," said Cypselus. "That boy is the King of Argos."

"For now he is," shot Nikandros. "Just like you're the present king of Corinth. We'll see how long that lasts." Nikandros turned his attention back to Praxis. "At least you have more courage than your stepbrother did. I've heard that Xanthos used to have nightmares about me being upset with him."

"Xanthos was hardly the type of man to be in charge of an entire city," replied Praxis. "But I'm already tired of this bantering. What do you want, Nikandros?"

"So feisty, aren't you?" taunted the Spartan king. "You've come a long way from that boy I met back in Messene a short time ago. Very well, I came here to inquire about the terms of your surrender to the Peloponnesian League."

"Surrender?" repeated Praxis as he laughed. "I think you have it all wrong. We are here to fight, not to bow to your whims like the other cities of the Peloponnese."

"The only reason they bow to my whims is because they recognize strength when they see it," growled Nikandros. "Your stepbrother might have been a poor excuse for a man but at least he was smart enough to recognize that Argos can't possibly stand on its own against Sparta. Not even with Corinthian help."

"Neither Xanthos nor the others have what we have," said Cypselus. "Which is a proven track record against Spartan forces. Praxis' army has beaten your men twice already, and will do so again for a third time."

Nikandros pulled his head back and laughed. "Oh, how silly of me to forget! It's this spear phalanx I keep hearing about, right? This cowardly formation is the reason why you bested second-rate Spartan warriors, not to mention men from your own cities under the command of Xanthos. And for some reason, you think this formation is going to stand up against my army, bristling with the entire might of Sparta?"

"Your hubris will be your downfall," replied Praxis. "You don't take our army seriously, and my prediction is that you will come to regret that in the end."

"Want to know what my prediction for you will be?" asked Nikandros, taking one menacing step closer. "A shallow grave. Your head removed from the rest of your body while worms and vultures feast on your ruined flesh for all eternity."

Praxis met the serious glare of the Spartan king without backing down. For a tense minute, the two kings were content to joust without words, almost daring the other to take a step back. When Praxis remained unmoved, Nikandros showed the first sign of weakness.

"I can consider an alternative," said the Spartan king. "But only if you take my deal right now. March back to your cities with your armies and accept the suzerainty of Sparta and the dominance of the Peloponnesian League. Be my willing lieutenants for your cities and no one will have to die. If you truly want peace in the Peloponnese, you can have it, but only if you accept my offer right now."

Praxis would be lying to say that the offer wasn't tempting. How many men might die against the Spartans in battle? A hundred? Thousands? For what? Were they really naive enough to think that they could defeat Nikandros once and dissuade him from attacking Argos ever again?

Why couldn't they just yield now and save the bloodshed?

If only it were that easy.

"This is no promise or deal that you could make me that I would trust," said Praxis firmly. "You're a predictable kind of man, Nikandros. The only thing you value is power. You might try to extend the olive branch today, but we both know that come tomorrow, you would be trying to find a way to rid both cities of Cypselus and me. There is no sense in making any deals with you."

Nikandros snorted. "Perhaps you'd rather die on the battlefield then?"

"If that's what it takes to keep my city free, then that's what I'll do."

"You're a fool then," taunted Nikandros. "You can't possibly hope to win against my army."

"Then why are you here?" asked Cypselus. "Why negotiate with us at all if you are so confident of victory?"

"Because he's scared," said Praxis. "Scared to be beaten by those that he considers inferior."

"You

are

inferior," said Nikandros. "And when we fight, I'm going to prove it."

"Very well," replied Praxis. "We reject your deal. Tomorrow, we will fight it out for the future of the Peloponnese."

"It's your decision, Praxis," said Nikandros. "But that just means I'm going to have to kill you like I did your father."

Nikandros didn't wait for a response as he turned heel and began to march away. He took about ten steps before he suddenly turned.

"Oh, and by the way," added the Spartan king. "I have something for this battle that I didn't have before. A secret weapon. I think you'll find that it tilts the scales definitively in my favor. Good luck on the battlefield tomorrow. You're both going to need it."

"What in Hades is he talking about?" whispered Cypselus as Nikandros and his Spartans left the field.

"I don't know," replied Praxis. "Maybe his increased numbers? His army is certainly larger than it was before Messene."

"Do you think it's possible he's using the same formation?" asked Cypselus. "What if he's put his men into the spear phalanx as well?"

Praxis considered that thought for a moment before he ultimately shook his head. "I don't think so, Cypselus. You saw how much disdain he has for the phalanx. He considers it a cowardly way to fight, and Spartans are all about appearance. I don't think he would adopt something he hates that much. It has to be something else. But what?"

That was the biggest question as the two kings made their way back to their camp as the sun was starting to set. Upon arrival, they alerted the other war leaders like Agemon, Asterion, and Mikon about their conversation with Nikandros, as well as his secret weapon.

"Does anyone really believe that Nikandros is intelligent enough to come up with something as revolutionary as the spear phalanx?" asked Asterion after they discussed it for about thirty minutes. "The man is a brute. Power and strength are the only things he knows and respects. With that kind of thought, how do you change the balance of power on the battlefield?"

"If that is your mindset, then the only way is by adding more men," reasoned Praxis.

"Precisely," said Asterion. "It's the only thing that makes sense. In Nikandros' mind, more men equals a greater chance of victory. In a way, he's right because as potent as the spear phalanx is, there's always the chance he could spread us too thin."

"But we will have to extend our lines to cover all of his men though," noted Cypselus. "Otherwise they'll come up on our flank, and not even the spear phalanx can take being attacked from two sides at once."

"No, but we might have to take the precaution of thinning out the phalanx anyway," said Praxis. "Not even Nikandros is rigid enough to stack his men in deep ranks. My guess is he's going to spread out and take advantage of his numbers. We might need to make do with a thinner phalanx just for this fight."

"But what if they mass their men and break through the phalanx?" asked Mikon. "Then what?"

No one wanted to answer that question, for good reason. But Praxis was the one to do it moments later.

"We just can't let the phalanx break," he said. "No matter the cost."

Chapter 137: The Night Before

While Praxis was having his discussion with the other leaders, Thorax was attending to some last-minute training. It was already starting to get dark as he oversaw a group of Corinthians who were amongst the rawest in terms of training. The last few hours since the army stopped moving for the day had been a needed break, and it allowed Thorax the opportunity to get them up to speed.

"Position left!" he ordered, waiting as the small group of fifty took their command. They all made the turn, with those on the far right having to keep walking forward long enough for them to turn and keep the formation.

Once Thorax was satisfied with the results, he nodded his head.

"You look a lot better than you did this morning, that's for sure," said Thorax. "I think you're ready for battle. Go get some food. From what I'm hearing, the big fight will come tomorrow. Eat hearty and sleep well; you're going to need it."

With those words, he dismissed them and grabbed some water, splashing it on his dirt-covered face. He was exhausted too, and in the mood to eat. As he was trying to find something to eat, he saw that most of the army was now retiring as well, no doubt with similar plans.

Thorax ended up at a small fire with his brother, Hippias, as well as Cilix, who would command their entire group in the morning.

"How are the men?" asked Cilix as he used a small stick to stoke the flame.

"Most of them are scared shitless about the fact they'll be facing Spartans in the morning," replied Hippias. "But at least they're happy they don't have to do it tonight."

"That's entirely normal before battle," said Cilix. "I'm not worried about the men in general. They'll do what they are supposed to do tomorrow. How is their training coming along? You two had some of the most inexperienced groups of Corinthians. Can they stand and fight?"

"Mine will," promised Thorax. "They are drilling much better, and I have all the faith in them that they will perform in the morning."

Cilix grinned. "As I have faith in their teachers. You two have made leaps and bounds yourselves. You were the joke of the entire army not long ago. Now look at you both. Leading your own groups of men."

Hippias gave a look at his brother. "We had some personal issues to sort out. Once that was out of the way, everything else kind of fell into place."

That was quite an understatement. The resentment that Hippias had for Thorax poisoned everything the brothers touched. It was like a small mountain weighing them both down, preventing either from giving anything a hundred percent.

Once it was gone, their progress was swift and satisfactory.

"Whatever you did, it'll make a difference tomorrow," said Cilix. "I only wished I had an army full of you both. We'd never have to fear the Spartans again if that were the case. Everyone is proud of you--myself, King Praxis, and the city. I hope you both know that."

Hearing those words made Thorax's chest swell with pride. A quick glance at Hippias revealed much the same. Cilix stood up and tapped Thorax's shoulder before ducking away, leaving the two brothers alone.

"He's right, you know," said Hippias after a few moments of silence. "We have come a long way. If only Maera could see us now, I know she'd be proud too."

"I think Maera could already see that something was different," replied Thorax. "I'm just ashamed that it poisoned our relationship for so long."

Hippias scoffed. "You're ashamed? You're not the one that harbored the grudge.

I'm

ashamed. But it's not too late for us. It's never too late to bury the hatchet."

Thorax couldn't agree more. Though he didn't know what tomorrow would bring, he knew that he would face any challenge as long as his brother was fighting by his side. Even if that meant they were all tasked with killing the Spartan king himself.

After all of this, what couldn't they accomplish together?

"I should probably get some sleep," said Hippias, who yawned shortly after the statement was out. "With it being a big day tomorrow, rest will be paramount. I can't kill Spartans if I can't even open my eyes."

"Rest sounds very inviting right now," replied Thorax. "I'll be doing the same shortly."

Like Cilix, Hippias put his hand on Thorax's shoulder before he left, a gesture that the elder brother had never done before. It was a sign that the troubles of the past were now truly behind them, and they would face whatever happened tomorrow as a united force.

He only hoped that the rest of the army was ready to do the same.

*****

Praxis was still troubled as the evening wound down and the army started to get some sleep. Thoughts of what Nikandros might do in the morning consumed his mind as he stared deep into the fire. He was so lost in his head that he barely heard Astara's question.

"Huh?" asked Praxis, snapping back to the present. "Did you say something?"

Astara gave him a funny look. "You haven't said a word in nearly thirty minutes, Praxis. I was just asking if you were okay."

"I recognize that look on his face," added Lysandra, who was sitting next to the brunette. "We might as well get some sleep like Zenais. We're not going to get anything else out of him tonight."

"I'm sorry," said Praxis before rubbing his eyes. "I'm just thinking about tomorrow. I'm trying to go through every possible scenario that could happen to us. Nikandros didn't get his reputation for no reason. He will try to trick us tomorrow."

"Have you ever thought that maybe he doesn't have anything further?" suggested Astara. "We know he greatly increased the size of his army. Maybe that's what he's talking about?"

Praxis nodded. "I think you're right, I really do, but I have to be prepared for the eventuality that it's something else."

"Do we have any one scouting his campsite?" asked Lysandra. "We might be able to figure out what's going on if we just get close enough."

"I have plenty of scouts out but they can only get so close without running into his scouts," replied Praxis. "So far, nothing appears out of sorts. He still outnumbers us two-to-one but I just don't see anything else that's truly new yet."

"We will figure it out," said Astara adamantly. "Nikandros might be many things but at the end of the day, he's just a brute. And you can't tell me that he can outwit you on the battlefield, Praxis. You're more of a man than he is."

Praxis let out the tiniest smile. "I'm glad I have your vote of confidence."

She stood up and kissed him on the lips. "And you always will. I'm going to bed. Please don't stay up too late? This army needs a fully-rested commander in the morning."

"I'll be there soon," he promised.

Lysandra came next after Astara walked away. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him just below the ear.

"Is there anything I can do to make you settle?" she whispered. "Anything at all?"

Her tone was highly suggestive and the fire that he saw in her eyes wasn't just a reflection of the flames in front of them.

"Maybe I should focus," replied Praxis. "Might not be the best idea right now."

Lysandra pouted. "If you reconsider, you know where to find me. But you ought to think it over. Letting out some tension will help you relax."

She didn't wait for his response. Lysandra gave him a kiss with some serious heat before slipping away, joining Astara and Zenais.

For the longest time, Praxis considered taking up her suggestion. Some intimacy with his women might just make him feel better, but the obligation to be strong and focused for his army overrode anything else. He continued to stare into the flames as exhaustion took him, and soon enough, his eyes closed on their own accord.

Praxis knew he wasn't dreaming almost immediately. This world, for lack of a better term, was familiar to him in that he'd been here before. It was more filled-in than the world of his dreams, and he was able to move about the nearly empty field in front of him.

It was only nearly empty because of the temple situated just to his left. It looked much like the temple of Apollo from his first vision, and Praxis couldn't help but enter it moments later. However, there were no orgies or scenes of wild debauchery here.

Only a single, lovely goddess opposite a bare altar.

Athena.

She turned to face him as soon as he neared, her face looking triumphant as she clutched a spear in her right hand.

"My hero," purred Athena, giving him the warmest welcome he'd ever received. "You've arrived!"

"I didn't know you were expecting me," replied Praxis.

"Do we not always chat before something major happens?" she asked before setting down her spear. In the process, it left her wearing only a shimmering, white dress. "And there will be something quite momentous occurring in the morning."