The Argive Ch. 021-025

The Argive -- Chapters 021-025

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Chapter 21: Insufferable Loss

The loss of Astara hit him like nothing else had before.

Praxis was barely able to sleep the rest of the night after the fight with her father, when he'd absconded with his daughter back to their house. The fight had been short and ugly, and Praxis had certainly taken a beating for their transgressions. He had several bruises and even a nasty cut on the side of his face where her father drew blood after one quick jab.

Despite the beatings, he never should have hit back. It was instinct alone that prevented him from taking blows without offering a strike of his own, but it was that hit on her father's face that changed everything.

Not to mention, Astara wouldn't even look at him as she was spirited away. Their relationship seemed to be irreparably damaged.

The next morning, a sore and tired Praxis dragged himself out of bed and left the inn in search for breakfast. He stayed clear of the market, not wanting to chance a sight of Astara or her family. He ended up getting bread from one of the stalls near the outskirts of town, always a risky proposition since all the best bakers were near the market.

Predictably, the bread tasted just like he imagined it would. Praxis ended up throwing half of it away.

After breakfast, he returned to the inn due to the chance that Astara might return. Long after the time she usually showed up, he finally gave up and realized that she wasn't coming.

And there was a chance she might never come again.

It was that admission that hurt more than most.

Instead of dwelling in his pity, Praxis left the inn and walked to the other side of the city, where he could see the waters of the isthmus. He sat down on the edge of the cliff overlooking the waters, watching as several small ships made their way to the harbor. He never felt more alone than at that moment.

Astara was gone, and he was in a city where he practically had no one.

Even back in Argos, he didn't have many people he could count on. There was his mother, of course, but apart from her he had Theron, who was like a brother to him. His mind turned to Lysandra, and he wondered how she was doing right now. He hated to say that he'd rarely thought about her when things were good with Astara, and part of him questioned whether he was only thinking about the fiery redhead now that Astara was gone.

"There you are. I've been looking over half the blessed city for you."

Praxis jumped at the sound of the sudden voice, finding Agemon strolling in his direction. The big Corinthian looked extremely happy today as he moved to sit down next to him.

"You'll never believe what I did this morning," said Agemon, jamming his thumb back into his chest. "Guess who talked to Cora!"

Praxis turned his head suddenly. "Who?"

"Cora! Remember? The girl I talked to you about yesterday? The one from the market?"

Praxis gave him a knowing look once his memory was jogged. "Oh, that Cora. You talked to her? Really?"

That seemed like a big surprise. Agemon looked like he'd rather crawl through his own shit than speak to the girl that had so captured his attention.

The big warrior grinned with pride. "I did! I saw her this morning, moving through the market as I was looking for you, I might add. And I don't know what it was. Something just struck me but I talked to her. I really did it!"

Praxis broke into a smile. "What did you say? Did you get to know her?"

"I'll tell you exactly what I said," replied Agemon, using his hands in dramatic fashion. "I waltzed right up to her and I said..." The big warrior took a breath. "Hi. I said hi."

Praxis started to chuckle. "And? What came next?"

Agemon blinked. "Well, she said hello back."

There was a silence that developed right after that, which only made things more humorous.

"And did you two say anything more than just hello?" asked an amused Praxis.

Some color filled Agemon's face. "Well, at that moment, no. She was moving too quickly, you see. The moment ended before I could get another word out. But I said hello! And she said it back. I think that's a considerable amount of progress, don't you?"

Praxis could barely keep a straight face. "You don't have a lot of skill with women, do you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Oh, yes. But I'm happy for you. At least somewhere out there, Cora now knows that Agemon exists," joked Praxis. "And that he once said hello to her in the market."

Agemon grinned. "Next time, I will ask for her name just like you told me yesterday. I will be making slow and steady progress!"

"Horn of Hades, I wish you luck," replied Praxis. "I only wish I shared your optimism for the opposite sex right now. It seems while your fortunes have prospered, mine have been left in the dirt."

"Have a fight with your woman last night? Say something she didn't like?"

"To say the least," grumbled Praxis. "And now I fear our fling is over."

"What did you say?"

"It's not so much what I said but rather who found out about us together. In our case, it was her father finding out."

"Ouch," said Agemon, wincing at the statement. "I'm guessing the father doesn't like you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"I have an idea," said Agemon, thinking it over for a moment. "I will find out if Cora has a sister that we can set you up with. What do you think about that? That would make us as close as brothers!" Agemon elbowed Praxis in the side several times, the grin never leaving his face.

Praxis couldn't help but laugh. "You are a good friend, do you know that? I never would have thought after our first encounter that you and I would be sitting here like this. But then again, stranger things have happened."

"And you're not bad either," replied Agemon. "Especially for an Argive!"

Praxis snorted. "It's funny to me. You're one of the only people who will call me an Argive. Even my own people call me foreigner, often to my face. It's ironic that I find the acceptance that I'm looking for amongst a different people."

"So you did not grow up in Argos? Where are you from then?"

Praxis shrugged. "My father wasn't from Argos. I grew up in the city with my mother but I do not know what became of my father. I'm not sure if he's alive or dead, and my mother refuses to talk about him. He left so long ago that most people in Argos never knew him and those that did refuse to speak of him because of my mother. I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place."

"Perhaps you will find him someday," said Agemon. "Maybe he is still living. That would certainly be interesting, no? I'd imagine you'd have many things to ask him."

"Many things indeed," grumbled Praxis, as the questions started to form inside his mind.

Why did you abandon your family?

Where did you go?

Why were we not enough for you?

He sighed after pushing them from his thoughts. Agemon noticed and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Come, the hot part of the day is approaching. We should get some rest and then prepare to take our positions later this afternoon to take down the Spartan."

Praxis nodded and let himself be walked back toward the city. He parted ways with Agemon and saw that the big man was nearly skipping back to his house after the excitement of this morning. Praxis could only hope that he could feel that way about a woman again.

He skirted the edge of the market again just to play it safe and then he started moving down a side street with little activity. It was as he was turning a corner that he nearly bumped into a woman with dark hair, and he had to do a triple-take once he saw who it was.

It was Astara.

Her eyes got big once she saw it was him, and she seemed to be almost paralyzed standing in front of him. Like her, Praxis didn't know what to do or to say. Memories of the previous night assaulted him at that moment, and he found himself tongue-tied and confused.

In his hesitation, Astara's gaze hardened and she moved to slip past him without a word. It was only once Praxis grabbed her wrist that she stopped, but the look she hit him with next was more like a glare.

"Let me go, Praxis," she said firmly, her words seeming to mean two things at once.

"Wait, can't we just talk?" he asked but it was too late. She'd already wiggled out of his grasp.

"We have nothing to say to each other," she said quickly. "My father could see us at any moment!"

"We haveplenty to say to each other," he replied. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't know how he found us or how it had to devolve to that point."

Astara crossed her arms in front of her chest. She opened her mouth several times to say something before she finally yanked him to a more concealed alley so they could talk privately.

"You broke my father's nose," she said finally. "You hit him hard enough to break the bone."

"It wasn't my intention, I promise you. He wouldn't stop hitting me and I had to end it. I didn't mean to--"

"Maybe you didn't," she interrupted. "But what is done is done. You hit him in the face. Don't you remember what I told you about Xanthos? What did he do that so upset me? Can you remember?"

Praxis' heart sank as he remembered that conversation. "He struck your father too," he muttered.

Astara nodded. "And now you're no better than him."

"Wait just a moment," said Praxis, now getting angry. "I had to do something in self-defense. You don't think I'm just going to keep letting him hit me, do you? What I did, and what Xanthos did, are two completely different things!"

Astara shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Praxis. I'm never going to be able to get that image out of my head. And maybe you have a point but the only point that matters is this--you were right. We shouldn't have done what we did. We shouldn't have been seeing each other or carrying on a relationship in secret. It was wrong of us. We were irresponsible and naive."

"Those words sound like they first came out of your father's mouth," said Praxis, which only served to harden her glare.

"Maybe he has a point! Maybe we should've listened! I'm not naive enough to put the blame on you. I take the blame for what I did. But it cannot be. This cannot be," she said, gesturing between them. "It was nice while it lasted but it was just a dream. And now we have to wake up and get back on with our lives."

"Just like that?" he asked, his anger still boiling below the surface. "When I told you that it was dangerous, it didn't matter, but when your father does, now all of a sudden we can't see each other? Despite the way we feel about each other?"

"I don't feel any sort of way for you, Praxis," she whispered.

The words nearly broke his heart. To hear Astara saying that she had no feelings for him was one of the biggest shocks of his life.

How many times did she talk about keeping their affair secret when they got back to Argos? Was it not she that devised a way they could see each other in the city once they got back, courtesy of her friend's house?

Was it also not Astara who whispered loving things in his ear during and after coupling?

Who was this emotionless woman in front of him?

"You don't mean that," he whispered in return.

"I do mean it," she replied, her force more firm. "I don't want to see you anymore."

Praxis whipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Their lips mashed together for the briefest of moments before her arms pushed him away.

"No!" she yelled, putting distance between them. "We're over! No more, Praxis! I don't want to see you anymore!"

Before he could respond, she stormed away, leaving him in the dust.

Just like that, his whirlwind relationship with Astara was over.

Chapter 22: Forgotten History

For the longest time, Praxis felt like chasing after her.

He thought about letting her cool down for a couple hours before arranging a secret meeting where they could talk with cooler heads. He told himself that Astara was still upset about the fight with her father as well as his admonition to stay away from Praxis forever.

But what he couldn't tell himself was that she was done with him for good.

There was an instinctual feeling that Astara would need more than just a few hours to cool down, and it was why Praxis vowed to give her some space. Perhaps there was a chance she would come around before they left Corinth.

Or perhaps it wouldn't happen until well after they were back in Argos.

Either way, he was going to leave the decision to her. She knew how he felt about her, and when she was ready to talk, he would be ready too.

For now, he had a job to do.

"Ares' cock, these Spartans piss me off," cursed Agemon as they watched the Spartan garrison from their hiding place that evening. It was several hours since they last met near the isthmus, and now that the day had cooled off, it was time to start their reconnaissance again.

"I mean would you look at that," continued Agemon, gesturing to the Spartan soldier a short distance away. "He's harassing that older woman! Where does he get off in treating her like that?"

Praxis was also watching the event unfold in front of them. The Spartan soldier, a member of the garrison under their commander, Dion, had been haggling with the old woman over some fruit displayed from her cart. When the haggling didn't go the way the soldier wanted it to go, he simply stole what he wanted without so much as paying it.

"I wish I could tell you that was something that never happened before but we both know the Spartans have no respect for any other Greeks," grumbled Praxis. "They think they're better than us because they're professional soldiers. And this kind of behavior is even more pronounced toward members of their own alliance." Praxis turned to look at Agemon. "Do you see now why I'm so against getting involved with them?"

Agemon grunted. "If only Telestes had such foreknowledge, it would have saved all of us a bunch of trouble. I had no issues with any Spartans until they came to Corinth. They treat us like a subjugated people. Complete bastards, I tell you."

"More than that," added Praxis. "I'd like to see every one of them dead and burned."

"Blessed Demeter! You have some fire in you! What did the Spartans do to you to earn such enmity? Did they burn down your house or something?"

Praxis took a deep breath. "Worse than that. They killed my brother."

Agemon's face turned serious as he looked over. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"I don't anymore. I haven't had one for more than fifteen years," replied Praxis quietly. "When I was younger, I had a brother. I was older than him by no more than a year. I barely remember him now but the Spartans killed him."

"How?" asked Agemon. "Why?"

Praxis shook his head. "He was so young. Lampros had barely turned two before he got away from my mother during a Spartan visit to Argos. He ran out into a crowd of soldiers. Instead of stopping for the boy, which was the humane thing to do, the Spartans were trained to never let anyone stop their marching. They trampled over the boy despite my mother's pleas for help. By the time the procession went by, he was already dead."

Agemon put his hand on Praxis' shoulder. "I grieve with you. What a horrible fate for one so young."

Praxis swallowed the lump in his throat. "The Spartans maintained their innocence even after what happened. They argued the boy should never have ran into their way, that he got what he deserved. Their lack of humanity is what caused me to hate them, even from a young age. I think it had something to do too with my father leaving, although I don't know for sure and my mother won't tell me. I lost my younger brother and my father right at the same time. In that way, I can say I never really knew my father. He was gone before I was even aware of him. And to this day, my mother refuses to say my brother's name. I think it's easier for her to pretend he never existed."

"It sounds like your mother is holding a lot of things from you," noted Agemon. "Perhaps to protect you."

Praxis shrugged. "I'm not a child anymore. I don't need protecting."

"To your mother, you will always be her child, no matter how old you get."

Praxis let out a deep breath. "Even still. A man ought to know where he came from. That's why the 'foreigner' name rankles me so much. I don't know anything about my father and by the sounds of it, I never will."

"Perhaps we will make him proud today?" said Agemon. "Perhaps by killing this Spartan we can begin to avenge your brother's death?"

Praxis managed to smile. "That's a good way to look at it."

The two men went back to watching the garrison. Praxis felt somehow lighter after sharing the story with Agemon. It was one that few people knew back in Argos, and his sense of comradery with the Corinthian was deepening.

They continued to watch until night fell, at which point Agemon started to elbow him in the side.

"There he is," hissed Agemon. "It's Dion again."

Sure enough, the Spartan commander once more emerged from the garrison. By this point in the evening, he was heading back to his house, a property that Praxis and Agemon had found the previous night when they watched his movements.

The house would be an ideal ground to take him hostage. The orders from Cypselus had been to bring him back alive to see him, where he intended to question the man about plans to move against Cypselus. Once they had all the information out of him, they would kill him using a rare and fast-acting poison that would make his death look quite natural.

It was imperative that they didn't kill him outright, especially with a sword. If that happened, the Spartans would know he was removed via foul play, and they would have a reason to come down hard on the entire city.

"He's moving quickly!" said Agemon, pushing to his feet. "Come on, let's go!"

They followed behind him at a short distance, careful to keep their prey from finding out he was being hunted. The Spartan commander moved quickly, his scarlet cape flowing behind him. He didn't stop until reaching the same house as yesterday, and he threw open the door, stepped inside, and then slammed it shut.

Praxis and Agemon hid within sight of the door. It was time to put their plan into action.

"Take a lap around the house and tell me if you hear anything inside, especially talking," said Praxis. "It's better off if he's alone in the house."

"Got it, wait here for me."

Agemon took the better part of five minutes to do the reconnaissance before he returned.

"Quiet as a mouse in there. Sounds like he's alone."

Praxis nodded. "Good. Let's make this quick then. Remember, we need to take him alive."

They waited until all traffic on the street had passed before making their move. Praxis took the left side of the door while Agemon took the second. They both unsheathed their swords and prepared to rush in.

"Nice and easy," said Praxis quietly. "Go now."

Agemon used his shoulder against the door, pushing it open and slipping inside with Praxis hot on his heels.

Praxis expected to find the Spartan commander in some stage of disrobe or getting ready for bed but what he did not expect was to find the man right in front of them, seemingly waiting for their arrival.

What was even worse was that he was still fully armed, with his shield and sword at the ready.

"So my entertainment has finally arrived," said Dion, the commander, as his lip curled into a sneer. "That's a good thing, I was getting bored!"

Agemon stepped to his right while Praxis took the left side.

"What are you talking about?" growled Agemon.

"I knew I was being followed yesterday," replied Dion before gesturing to Agemon. "You have the stalking skill of a wild boar. I've never seen another man whose feet made so much noise just by walking."

"And yet you still let us ambush you here," said Praxis. "Bad move on your part."