The sun was setting over the mountains when the sad procession entered Laconia. Four of his finest warriors carried the body of Archidamos lying dead upon his shield, their heads bowed both in mourning and at the weight of the King of Sparta.
Timaea, the Queen, was waiting along with the widows of other fallen warriors, but there was no weeping and wailing, for this was Sparta and open displays of such weakness were not the Spartan way. News had reached the city by messenger a few days before, hailing victory in battle against the Corinthians, but bearing the terrible news that the old King had been killed.
First among the pallbearers was Araios, a young man of only 18 years old, but already with a reputation as a great warrior and proven in battle. The precocious youth glanced brazenly at Timaea as they passed through the city gates, but then bowed his head respectfully with a sympathetic look on his handsome face.
Archidamos was not the only King of Sparta, the state having a system of dual kingship and King Tyndareos would by now have been informed of the death of his rival. Timaea knew that this meant grave danger for her and for her young children, as Tyndareos was a ruthless and ambitious man. Above all he craved absolute power over Sparta and the neighbouring Greek states and would stop at nothing to achieve this, even the slaughter of innocents.
Timaea was a powerful woman in both intellect and physical presence. Even at the advanced age of 38, she was clever and beautiful - tall, lean and muscular in a society that valued such qualities. Now more than ever, she would need to call upon these strengths if she was to survive the coming plots and machinations of Tyndareos. The Queen's thoughts turned to the warrior Araios. The young man was from a prominent family in the capital Laconia and would be able to call upon the loyalty and fighting prowess of many hoplites.
Araios arrived at the royal palace straight from the tavern, a little drunk on wine and somewhat annoyed at the summons, having been close to bedding the helot girl serving at the bar. The royal bodyguard who had found him in the Laconian dive would have been quite difficult to resist, being an enormous bear of a man, not that refusing an invitation from a Queen was wise at any time.
The young warrior's irritation slowly turned to intrigue as he was ushered down dark corridors and asked to wait alone in the ante-room to the Queen's bedchamber. This was clearly not formal business of state, but something far more secretive and thus exciting to the youth. Araios had often fantasised about the stunning Queen and at night in his bed had dreamt about her beautiful face and lythe body as he stroked his teenage cock under the blanket.