The Argive Ch. 016-020

The Argive -- Chapters 016-020

*****

Chapter 16: Discovery

Both Praxis and Astara were temporarily frozen in fear. The sound of the booming voice from the doorway betrayed their illicit and forbidden union, and at that moment, Praxis could only think about the consequences of being discovered.

Especially if it was by her father.

Fortunately for them, the voice from the door belonged to someone else entirely.

Nico, Astara's younger brother, stood at the entrance to the room, his hands firmly planted on his hips and a look of defiance and authority on his face.

Astara rushed to cover her body as she turned a meek eye toward her brother.

"Nico, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," said the youngster before pointing at Praxis. "You told me this was nothing to worry about. This doesn't seem like nothing."

Astara lowered her eyes. "It is nothing to worry about."

Nico snorted. "I don't think Father would see it that way."

Astara groaned. "Horn of Hades, Nico, you have to promise me you won't tell Father a word about this. Nothing of the sort, do you hear me? You don't understand what's at risk!"

Nico's eyes flickered toward Praxis, who had been silent until this part. The look on Nico's face was surprisingly perceptive for his young age.

"How did you find us?" asked Praxis.

"It was more of a matter of findingyou," replied Nico. "And with all the trouble you've caused in Corinth this week, there were enough people able to point me in the right direction." His eyes turned toward his sister. "If I can find you, don't you think Father could too? Then what would we do? You know what his plans are in regards to Xanthos."

A look of disgust appeared on Astara's face. "Ihate Xanthos! I will not marry him!"

Praxis remained calm. "What will it take for you to hold our secret, Nico? What do you want?"

A small grin started to grow on his face. "I like where this conversation is going now. I was thinking that Astara could give me her allowance for the next two weeks and we could call it even. That seems like a small price to hold this big secret."

"Two weeks?" she shrieked. "That's blackmail, Nico!"

Nico shrugged. "I guess Father will have to hear about this then. It's too bad, I think he'll be greatly upset."

"Two weeks will be fine," said Praxis, earning a glare from Astara. "It's better off than discovery. She and I both know what's at stake."

A pouty look formed on her beautiful, pink lips. "That's still too high, Praxis."

Praxis thought about it for a moment before looking across the room at his things. He left the bed and approached his pack, where he pulled out a small knife and walked over to Nico, who started to look a little fearful at seeing what was in Praxis' hands.

"How about a trade?" asked Praxis, presenting the knife to Nico. "This is an old hunting knife that I've had since I was about your age. It's easily worth whatever allowance your sister gets, and what's more, all of your friends will envy you for having such a cool, new toy."

Nico's eyes filled with happiness. "I can have it? Truly?"

Praxis nodded and handed it over.

The boy couldn't have been more thrilled as he gleefully held onto it. "This is perfect. I accept this instead!" He then turned his face toward Astara. "I wouldn't have ratted you out by the way."

Astara frowned. "You wouldn't?"

Nico jerked his head toward Praxis. "I think he's pretty cool. But the knife is a good gift anyway."

By this point, Praxis was chuckling softly as Astara started to get indignant.

"Then get out of here," she ordered, pointing at the door. "And remember to keep your mouth shut!"

Nico grinned and waved as he left. "See you around, foreigner!"

Once he was gone and they were both alone, Praxis returned to bed with his laughter still on his lips.

"That little brat," said Astara as she pressed her warm body against him. "You didn't have to do that with the knife. I would have given up my allowance."

"It's quite all right. I have several of them at home, and I had a feeling he would like it."

"I should have figured. He hasn't shut up about you since we met on the way to Corinth. He's driving Father mad with all this talk."

Praxis smiled. "I rather like him. He's a shrewd negotiator."

"You mean he's a brat," she corrected before turning more serious. "A brat that needs to keep a secret. Especially now. I could have kept this from Father on my own before today. But now that we've... well, it will be just harder now."

Praxis understood what she meant. Now that they'd slept together, it was going to be harder to deny their connection to each other.

"Is it too risky for you then?" he asked. "Us sleeping together?"

Her big, blue eyes locked on his. "It is risky. By the gods, I can't imagine what he would do if we were discovered. I don't even want to think about it."

Praxis gulped. "We don't have to do it again, especially if the risk is too great."

Astara barely let him finish his sentence before she pulled his face to hers, kissing him soundly.

"I don't intend to stop this whatsoever," she said once the kiss broke. "Even when we get back to Argos."

"But what about my stepbrother? We can't do this forever. You know that."

Astara let out a deep breath. "We'll think of something. We just have to. I mean it when I say I'm not going to marry him. Not after what he's done, not after who he is. It would be a fake marriage. And I'm not about to marry just because my father thinks it can enhance our family's standing."

"It's a dangerous game you're playing, Astara. Not only just because you want to be with someone else but more so because of who I am. The simple fact that it's me would only be rubbing salt in the wound for someone like Xanthos."

"Then I guess we'll just have to keep our secret for the time being," replied Astara, like it was the simplest solution. Her hand started to drift south, wrapping around his manhood. "I'm tired of all this talk about people I don't care about. Let's do something else."

The way she was stroking him left little doubt as to what that something else was.

Soon enough, any further protesting on Praxis' part died on his lips, especially as Astara mounted him again.

It seemed that the danger was just getting started.

*****

"Husband? Are you ever coming to bed?"

King Damian of Argos snapped out his daydream as his first wife, Eulalia, appeared at the door of his study. She was wearing a simple, white chiton for sleeping, and judging by her half-shut eyes, she'd been doing just the thing until noticing his side of the bed was empty.

"Eventually," he muttered, never taking his hand from his chin.

She didn't like his answer because she entered the room. Her shadow flickered against the wall by the soft light of the two candles, which provided the only illumination at this time of night. Eulalia moved just behind him, resting her hands against his shoulders.

"What troubles you?" she asked, gently kneading his back.

"You know what troubles me," he replied, shifting out of her grasp. He leaned forward, putting his hands together in front of him.

Eulalia moved around his chair to look at him. "The Spartans."

It was more of a statement than it was a question, and she was right on the mark. It had been no more than two days since the Spartan envoy had left Argos, and his departure wracked Damian with a profound sense of fear.

Not giving into the Spartans seemed like the biggest mistake of his rule. If only he'd been able to bend on that last item, the issue of the Spartan garrison, Argos would be the newest member of the Peloponnesian League.

Their standing within the Peloponnese, and in all of Greece, would be secure.

And yet, here he was without an alliance or any broader understanding with the Spartans.

Argos was in a tenuous and risky position.

"You know you couldn't have given them what they asked for," said Eulalia softly, reading his mind. "A garrison is unthinkable."

"Of course, I know that," he snapped. "The people would run us out of the city before they saw even one Spartan soldier billeted here."

"Then why do you continue to stress about it? It seems you only had one option."

Damian sighed. "Because I wonder if they backed me into a corner on purpose. I have to wonder if I've been played, or whether they even wanted Argos in the League in the first place. Their terms treated us like a defeated power, not like a potential ally."

"I think you're looking too deeply into this," replied Eulalia. "The Spartans make the same demands no matter where they go. Corinth and Achaea have already agreed to them only because they are weak. We are not as weak as they."

Damian snorted. "We will be weak when we are surrounded by enemies. We have yet to see what the Arcadians or the Messenians will do."

Eulalia shook her head. "The Arcadians are too disorganized to be a worthwhile ally. You know this better than anyone. And the Messenians? They shun alliances. The sun would more likely rise in the west than to see the Messenians join any Spartan-led league."

"Times are changing though," grunted Damian. "The old ways are dying. Power is centralizing in these states that can build a broad network of allies. States hardly fight one-on-one these days. The Spartans are doing it here in the Peloponnese and even the Athenians are grumbling about it with their Ionian lapdogs. Times are changing."

"You worry too much about things outside your control."

Damian chuckled. "What then should I worry about?"

"Firstly? About getting some sleep. The sun set hours ago, Damian. You need your rest."

"What I need is to figure out a way into that alliance," he corrected. "Before it's too late."

"That can wait until the morning. For now, you need rest. A weary mind is a weak one. Give it strength by embracing your slumber."

"You won't let this go, will you?"

Eulalia crossed her arms in front of her breasts, giving him the answer he expected.

"Fine, I'll come to bed," he said, pushing off his chair. "But I do so under protest."

"As long as you do so, I don't care. Besides, tomorrow will be a good day. Our son will return home tomorrow."

Damian grunted. "Has it been a week already?"

"Indeed and a long week it has been. Xanthos is greatly missed here at home. It will be wonderful to see him again."

"Let's just hope he remembers his place when he arrives. I'm getting awfully tired of the fighting between those two boys."

A sour look appeared on Eulalia's face at the mention of the two boys. Damian knew exactly why.

"There needs to be more separation between Xanthos and Praxis," she said, spitting out the last name like it was foul-tasting wine. "Our son has enough distractions. The only thing he needs to focus on is being a good king like his father."

"A good king would have come away with an alliance," replied Damian, coming back to the initial topic.

Eulalia yanked his arm carefully. "A good king knows when to come to bed. Come now, and be the example for our son that he needs."

Damian went only reluctantly but just like the night before, he found that sleep didn't come easily.

The Spartan threat was still out there, and his worst fear was that they would turn on him.

But how could he prevent that from happening?

Chapter 17: For the Want of a Woman

As it turned out, Astara wasn't one to be denied what she wanted.

For the next several days, they were rarely separated. She would usually start her morning by sneaking down to the inn where he was staying, and they would trade orgasms before she had to slip off to rejoin her mother's side.

She would always return though, coming back around late afternoon to get one more round in before meeting up with her father for dinner.

That meant that most days, they were having sex two or sometimes three times. Funnily enough, they never really got the chance to spend the nights together. Her father kept a close watch over the family during the night hours, and they deemed it too risky to attempt a meeting. Even still, the pace they'd set already was one that was hard to keep up with. After the fifth day, Praxis looked at his member, finding it nearly raw after frequent couplings with Astara.

And yet, he still had a smile on his face. There was no more beautiful sight in the world than watching her dip her head, her dark hair mashing against the bed while her mouth opened wide, surrendering to orgasm. Nor was there anything more captivating than watching the red flush that developed across her upper chest as they fucked, or the way she gripped the bed when she was approaching orgasm.

Despite the risk, Praxis was incredible content and satisfied, and by all accounts, so was she.

"So I've been thinking," she said one afternoon, a few minutes after his last orgasm. Praxis was at the moment using his thumb and finger to gently pinch her nipple, enjoying the way it stiffened at his touch.

"Now that is dangerous," he joked. "What have you been thinking about?"

"About when you get to go back to Argos," she replied. "I know that your two weeks is almost up, and I know my father won't be staying much longer here either. I was thinking about how we can keep up our pretenses."

"Ah, I see," said Praxis, knowing that "keeping up pretenses" was code for keeping their relationship secret. "And what did you come up with?"

"I have a friend of mine that has a house not far from the Temple of Demeter, near the base of Aspida Hill," she said. "In any event, it's just her and her father, and he's often away for business. He's a trader that frequently goes to Ionia to trade. I was thinking that we might be able to keep up our pretenses at her house, far away from the prying eyes of both of our families."

"How good of a friend is she?" asked Praxis, raising an eyebrow. "Will she mind that we are coupling under her roof?"

Astara giggled. "She's usually doing the same thing whenever her father is out of the city. I don't see any reason why she wouldn't make one of the rooms available for us."

Praxis chuckled. "You've given this a lot of thought I see."

She leaned over to kiss his neck. "I don't intend for this to stop anytime soon. And I know as soon as we leave Corinth, I'm going to be going through withdrawal when it comes to your affections. I had no other choice but to find a place where we could continue our illicit union."

It was those last two words that brought a frown to Praxis' face, for Astara was being entirely correct about the nature of the relationship. It was illicit, forbidden even, and she was making plans for a future that in all likelihood, didn't exist.

It was a troubling thought, one that he was quick to strike from his mind lest it spoil the mood.

"You don't like my idea?"

Praxis turned his attention back to her, where she was now studying his face for answers. Judging by her expression, she wasn't liking what she was seeing.

"It's just going to be harder to maintain the fiction of what we're doing," he said finally. "Especially once we're back in Argos. It's hard enough here sometimes even with just your brother knowing."

"Nico hasn't said a word about it though."

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "We just need to be careful."

Astara nodded her head like she understood, even though it didn't seem like she was too happy with his answer.

She didn't stick around for much longer, as it was now nearing the time for dinner. She dressed quickly, hiding her stunning body behind the folds of her chiton before fixing her hair. With one last, lingering kiss, she slipped back out onto the street, leaving him alone.

Praxis let out a long stretch once he had the bed to himself. The Astara question was one that was constantly on his mind, but there was never an answer to it that he deemed practical, short of running away with her. Even that was something he would find hard to stomach, not wanting to leave his home city.

Shaking all thoughts from his head, Praxis pushed off the bed and dressed quickly, hoping to purchase some bread for a meager dinner before it got too late and all the street vendors closed up shop. He also hoped to grab something to drink at a local watering hole that he was becoming quite fond of, finding that if he couldn't spend his nights with Astara, it was a satisfactory replacement.

He found a shop that had slim pickings and picked out some bread that had been passed over many times. It was as he was eating it while leaving the shop that he felt the blade against his back.

"Do I even need to ask who would put a sword to my back while I'm eating?" asked Praxis, still not turning around.

"Someone who you ought to fear, that's who," came the menacing reply.

Praxis turned around to see the eyes of Agemon, the same man who'd picked a fight with him on his first day in Corinth. The man looked stiff and serious, but the way he was holding the blade suggested that fighting wasn't the first thing on his mind.

"Trying to get a rematch?" challenged Praxis. "Don't think I won't whoop you again?"

"You didn't whoop me at all," growled Agemon. "But I'm not here for a rematch. I'm here on official business. Even though part of me would love to cast it aside and teach you some manners."

"You might try," taunted Praxis before curiosity got the better of him. "What kind of official business?"

"You don't need to know yet," replied Agemon, lowering his sword. "Come on, let's get out of the middle of the city. It's not time yet and the last thing we need is to be busted by another prefect."

"Why should I listen to you?" asked Praxis. "I'm still not sure this isn't a trick. You haven't proven yourself trustworthy yet."

Agemon sheathed his sword. "Happy now? I'm not a threat to you, at least at this moment. Now my patron has requested that I bring you to meet with him, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. You can either follow me or I can drag you along behind me. One way or another, you're coming with me to see him."

Praxis judged his offer for a few moments before answering. The look of rage that so characterized Agemon last week wasn't there, only to be replaced by something that looked like pragmatic determination. Though his guard was still up, he decided to follow the man for now.

"I'll come with you," said Praxis. "But only because I have nothing better to do. And as long as you don't disturb the rest of my dinner." He took a giant bite of his bread as if to punctuate the point.

Agemon rolled his eyes. "Eat to your heart's content. You won't bother me in the slightest."

Agemon started a path to the outskirts of town, close to where the water lapped at the shore. It was near the place where Praxis had promised to meet Astara one evening, but where he'd ultimately ditched her.

At least she didn't hold the grudge against him.

"So who is this patron that you're taking me to see?" asked Praxis, just a step behind Agemon as they moved through rows of houses. It was easy to see that many of the people that lived here respected Agemon, for they moved out of his way whenever they saw him coming.

"Again, you don't need to know that right now," replied Agemon, his feet splashing through a puddle that had been made by spilled water. "My patron asked that I bring you to him but that I not answer your questions just yet."

"If I was a betting man, I'd say that sounds like an ambush to me," said Praxis. "You sure you're not planning to make good on your humiliation from a few days ago? I can see a man like you wanting to get even, especially seeing as how the people respect you around here."

Agemon looked back at him, his eyes narrowing. "I lost no respect whatsoever. If the prefect hadn't interrupted the fight, you would have been a dead man!"