The Argive Ch. 026-030

"Bad business?" asked Damian. "Because I'm already up to my eyeballs in bad news and I don't need any further."

Praxis shook his head. "Nothing of the sort. Just an offer that was extended to me that I promised would get to you."

Damian started to shake his hand. "I don't have the time to listen to any offers right now. I still have much to do and not enough time to do it. It'll have to wait."

Praxis bit his lip. "How long? Can we speak tomorrow morning?"

"No, I have things to do. How about tomorrow after the family dinner?"

"What family dinner?" asked Praxis as he looked over at Doris.

"Did you already forget, Praxis? Tomorrow's meal will be for our family alone, a way for us to celebrate the start of the feast. It's another reason why I'm glad that you're back today. I didn't want to see us eat without you."

"So then after we eat dinner?" pressed Praxis. "I don't want to hold onto this offer for too long, Stepfather. It's something you need to hear."

Damian rolled his eyes. "Fine, after dinner then. I'm sure one more big surprise for the day won't be too bad."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Praxis, his curiosity piqued.

Damian looked him right in the eye. "Xanthos wants the entire family gathered tomorrow for dinner as well. He has a big announcement to make, one that he assures me will be quite ground-breaking."

Chapter 28: A Brush with Destiny

"Maybe he's giving up his inheritance to become a servant of the Oracle? I hear that kind of thing is attractive to strange men? And Xanthos is one of the strangest men I've ever met."

Praxis resisted the urge to smile as he sat with his friend, Theron, the following morning. The two men had finished their breakfast and were now walking through the city, catching up on everything that had happened in the last two weeks.

At the current moment, they were discussing what Xanthos' big announcement could be about that evening.

"I doubt it, knowing Xanthos like I do," said Praxis. "He would rather be the king of an ant hill than be a servant to a god. Besides, it takes a strong nose to be constantly covered in perfume all the time like the servants of Apollo, another thing that Xanthos can't stand."

"Maybe he's acquired a way to plug his nose?" suggested Theron, making the two men laugh.

"For some reason, I think it's nothing good," replied Praxis after he stopped laughing. "But what could be worth telling the entire family?"

Theron gave him a funny look. "You don't think it could be a Spartan alliance after all, do you? Do you think Xanthos did something on his own?"

Praxis shook his head. His mother had told him everything last night about what happened when the Spartan envoy came to Argos. They'd made their demands, and each one was more preposterous than the last. For the first time, Praxis had to actually commend Damian for not caving to the Spartans and putting the garrison in the city.

At least the old man had some sense left.

"No, it won't be the alliance, although I'm sure Xanthos was upset that nothing came of it," said Praxis. "My guess is that it's some self-serving measure. Something that will make me roll my eyes, no doubt."

"Maybe something that will make you wish you were back in Corinth," joked Theron. "How was it by the way? I mean, apart from the Astara business."

Praxis frowned as he remembered the dark-maned beauty. He hadn't seen her yet in Argos despite the fact that she left Corinth the day before he did. Frankly, he didn't even know what he'd do if he did see her. Astara had made her feelings known for him when they were still in Corinth and their relationship seemed to be over before it really began.

"It wasn't bad," said Praxis, taking his mind back to Theron's question. "I met one of the warriors there, a man by the name of Agemon. You would like him. He fights well but he could use your prowess in talking to women. In that regard, he's a little hopeless."

Theron grinned. "It's a skill only the best of us learn. And some of us never have to learn it at all. We're just born with it."

"Anyway, you would have liked him," continued Praxis. "We certainly had our adventures while we were there."

Praxis hadn't spared any of the details about his time in Corinth, telling Theron everything about Cypselus, Dion, and Telestes. He wouldn't have told just anyone due to the nature of the story, but he trusted Theron with his life, and he knew his friend wouldn't go blathering about it to anyone else.

"It brings up a good question though," said Theron. "If the Corinthians are out of the Peloponnesian League, just what will the Spartans do? How quickly will they retaliate?"

"You think they will retaliate?"

Theron nodded. "Only a matter of time with them. The Spartans never forget a grudge, no matter how little. They won't take the loss of an entire city very well. By the time the garrison gets back to Sparta, they'll meet an army that's ready to march."

"I guess it all depends on how tactfully Cypselus manages to eject from the alliance," said Praxis. "He's going to have to be quite cunning if he hopes to pull this off without bloodshed."

"At least if the Spartans are focused on Corinth, it will take the focus off of Argos," said Theron. "I think everyone was shocked but also quietly relieved that your stepfather didn't enter the alliance with them. I think the people expected Damian to fold quite easily."

"Well, he might have just bought us all some time," said Praxis. He was about to say something else when he noticed movement around the base of the Aspida Hill. A man was moving quite quickly through the crowd, moving with purpose.

It wasn't just any man either.

It was Xanthos.

"Where is he going?" muttered Praxis, his curiosity piqued. He turned to see Theron looking at him.

"Did you see that?" asked Praxis. "Xanthos is scurrying through the city like a man on a mission."

Theron shrugged his shoulders. "With a man like Xanthos, who knows? Why is it troubling you though? Do you think he's up to no good?"

"Xanthos is usually up to no good," mumbled Praxis.

He thought about following his stepbrother for a moment, wondering just where he was going. Praxis wondered if this had anything to do with the announcement coming tonight, and once more his mind raced with possibilities.

Ultimately though, he chose not to follow Xanthos. If his stepbrother found out Praxis was following him, it would start trouble again. And Praxis didn't need to be exiled from the city once more.

Praxis kept walking with Theron until he reached Theron's house, parting ways with the man as noon approached. He made his way back toward the Aspida Hill, catching no sight of Xanthos in the process. Praxis could only imagine what kind of mischief his stepbrother could be into now, but he decided it was better off to wait until tonight to find out.

Crossing close to the market, Praxis deliberately found himself in the part where he might see a familiar face. He did so subconsciously but he wasn't the least bit surprised to see the long, dark hair of one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.

At this very moment, Astara was alone. Praxis could see other patrons passing in front of her stall but none of them were stopping to purchase anything.

As if guided by fate, he found himself walking closer to her.

Astara's eyes centered on him by chance at first and then by purpose. They narrowed on that second look as she registered just who was approaching her.

Hardly a good sign.

"Astara, can we talk?"

She didn't answer him. She crossed her arms in front of her breasts and looked in another direction. At that moment, Praxis remembered just how it felt to have those breasts pushed against his chest as they had sex.

Why did that memory seem like another lifetime ago?

When she still didn't answer, Praxis cleared his throat.

"Are you just going to pretend I don't exist?" he asked, his voice louder and more firm. "Will you ignore me forever?"

Finally, Astara's glare centered on him again. "I have nothing to say to you, Praxis." For a brief moment, her tone softened. "Not now anyway," she mumbled.

Praxis wasn't finished yet.

"Can we at least talk about what happened in Corinth?"

"No, Praxis, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because what's done is done," she said after a heavy sigh. "We're just fooling ourselves. Wewere fooling ourselves. I don't want to talk about it again."

"You can't tell me you didn't like every minute of it."

Astara gave him a shocked look, clearly not expecting that statement. She stuttered for a moment before finding her words.

"What I felt about you isn't relevant."

"It is relevant," he insisted. "I didn't forget all those things you whispered in my ear those nights. All those feelings you told me about."

"Stop, Praxis. Cut it out."

He continued anyway. "You told me that you never wanted to be with anyone else. That you loved when I was inside of you--"

"Praxis, stop!"

Her words echoed from the stall, causing several nearby patrons to stop what they were doing to look at them. Praxis knew this kind of attention was dangerous in regards to her family and he stopped talking at once.

Astara pointed toward the market exit. "Just leave, please? Move on and see somebody new. I can't do this with you. Not now. Not after what's happened."

There was something about the way she said not now that got his attention. What exactly had happened? Was she talking about the discovery by her father or was this about something else?

Praxis didn't stick around to find out. People were still looking at them, and he knew it was very likely that a member of her family might appear at any moment. Seeing the moment lost, he said one more thing before he left.

"I'm not going to forget about you," he promised as he walked away.

Though he had no way of knowing it, a tear fell down her cheek after he left. It wasn't joined by any others but the sentiment still remained.

Praxis kept walking until he was on the outskirts of the market. Before he could head back to the palace, he felt a small hand grab at the back of his chiton.

Turning around, he saw the face of Nico, Astara's younger brother.

At least Nico acted like he was happy to see him.

"You came back to Argos," said the bright-eyed youngster. "When did you come back?"

"Just yesterday," replied Praxis. "The day after your family left."

"Oh, I see."

Nico thumbed his finger in the direction of his sister. "She still has feelings for you, you know? Despite what she says."

Praxis looked past the young boy toward Astara for a brief moment. "How do you know?"

Nico shrugged. "I just do. It's hard to miss when it's your own sister, but I know she still likes you. I know a bad thing happened when our father found out about you two but she still feels the same way about you, even if she doesn't want to."

"So what am I supposed to do now?" asked Praxis. "Give her space? Or keep trying to talk to her?"

Nico made a pained face. "I can't say. Let's just say that it's not for me to say, okay?"

Praxis gave him an odd look. For the second time, he was getting the feeling that he wasn't hearing the whole story.

What did both Astara and Nico know that he didn't?

He was still trying to figure it out when Nico stepped forward and patted his elbow. "I'm sorry. I should go now. Father will be back any time. See you around, Praxis."

Just like that, the young boy was gone, disappearing into the market and leaving Praxis with even more questions.

So far, Praxis was beginning to think he should have just stayed in Corinth.

With heavy shoulders, he made his way toward the palace, crossing through several neighborhoods in the process. It was hot today, and the sun was already beating down on the streets with unrelenting fury. Sweat was heavy on his brow, and more than anything, he thought about taking a nap before tonight's dinner with the family.

It was as he neared the palace that he heard a very familiar voice call out to him.

A feminine voice that halted him in his tracks.

Chapter 29: Sweet Mischief

Praxis turned around quickly, only to see flaming red hair and a mischievous smile that he would recognize anywhere.

Lysandra still looked as gorgeous as the first day he saw her. Memories of their first meeting, and the night that it spawned assaulted his brain. For a brief moment, he was able to put away the troubling thoughts of Astara and focus on the intense feminine energy of Lysandra.

She had scarcely gotten out a greeting before she barreled into him, colliding against his chest. She hugged him tight before pulling away, her green eyes locking on his.

"I've missed you terribly," she said, her lips forming into a sexy pout. "Your two weeks away felt like a small lifetime."

"It's really great to see you again," replied Praxis, meaning every word. "I've missed you as well."

Though it was nice to see her, he wasn't being entirely truthful about that last part. Lysandra had rarely entered his brain after meeting Astara, and he felt a little embarrassed about it now that she was right in front of him.

Had Astara blinded him that much?

Or was it because he hadn't had much time with Lysandra before his exile?

"How was Corinth?" she pressed. "I haven't been there since I was very young, even before Lysander was born. I'm sure you missed being home terribly?"

"Corinth had its perks," said Praxis, being intentionally vague. "But you're right--I'm definitely glad to be home."

"And home just in time for the Feast of Hera," she said with a beaming grin. "I'm really looking forward to this festival. Your mother has been all over the city preparing for it, and it looks like this is going to be a year to remember. I just wish she knew how appreciated her work was in setting up for it."

"She's been running herself ragged just trying to keep up. She really needs more help before the feast starts. I'm not sure how much of it she can take" said Praxis, remembering how his mother looked this morning. It looked like even with a night of rest, Doris had somehow looked worse. He couldn't wait for this feast to be over.

To his surprise, Lysandra jumped all over that. "Do you think she would let me help if I offered? I'd be more than happy to do anything she needed."

"Really?" asked Praxis. "Seriously, that would be wonderful. Come with me to the palace. We'll go see what else needs to be done. I think just having an extra pair of hands would be great for her."

Lysandra beamed with a genuine grin. "I'd love to help her. She's done so much for the city after all, and there's no one here who doesn't have a kind word to say about Queen Doris."

Praxis was about to say something else when another redhead came strolling up behind Lysandra.

"Praxis! You're home!"

Lysandra's younger brother, Lysander, stopped in front of Praxis and offered his hand. The young man was flushed and sweaty, which seemed unnatural even in this heat.

"Good to see you, Lysander," said Praxis, shaking his hand. "What have you been up to? Were you running laps around the market or something?"

"No, I've been training," replied Lysander. "I'm trying to take your lessons to heart. Ever since you've been gone, I've really thrown myself into my training, hoping that you would see the results the next time we sparred together."

Lysandra started to laugh and her hand on her brother's shoulder. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one. He's been training obsessively, Praxis. I think he wants to become just like you."

Lysander managed to look embarrassed. "Horn of Hades, will you not say things like that in front of him?"

"It's quite all right," said Praxis, grinning. "I'm looking forward to getting back to training myself. I feel rusty after all those days in Corinth."

"When will you be leading our group training sessions again?" asked Lysander. "I thought you might be there this morning but you weren't."

"I'll be there tomorrow for sure. And that's when you can show me everything you've learned in the last two weeks."

Lysander nodded eagerly and then leaned in closer. "From what I hear, we might be putting our training into motion sooner rather than later. Most of the men are talking about the Spartans. They think we will surely be next to be targeted by them, and we will need to be ready to defend Argos."

"That's always a possibility," replied Praxis. "Although we can hope it doesn't come down to that. I'd rather not face Spartan power on our own."

"But we can still do it, can't we?" asked the intrepid youth. "If you're leading us, we can take on the Spartans and win!"

Praxis only grinned and shot a look at Lysandra, who was also amused. "We'll do our best. And with men like you there, I'd pity any Spartan who lined up to fight us."

That was definitely what Lysander needed to hear. The young man chattered about training for another few minutes before he excused himself, leaving Praxis alone with Lysandra.

"He still worships you, as you can see," she said with a giggle. "Hardly a day goes by when he doesn't talk about you. There are times when I think he won't be satisfied until heis you."

"He can be me if he really wants it," said Praxis, chuckling. "My life is messy and complicated. It's not that great once you're actually living it."

"Oh, I don't know," said Lysandra, taking a step forward until her chest was brushing against his. "I enjoyed my time with you nearly as much as he did. In a much different way, of course."

"But of course," replied Praxis, taking a moment to steal a glance at her lips. They looked just as soft and inviting as he remembered. Somewhere inside him, his hunger began to build.

Lysandra looked around for a moment before her green eyes locked on his. "Do you have time that we can be alone? With no disruptions?"

There was only one meaning behind a question like that one. Praxis found himself nodding his head quickly.

"I don't have any plans until dinner tonight. We have the afternoon to ourselves."

She grinned coyly. "In that case, I think we have a few body parts that need to be reacquainted. Two weeks can be a very long time."

Praxis wasted no time in honoring her request. He brought her back to the palace, where they dodged various members of his family before entering his private quarters. No sooner were they alone than was Lysandra pulling off her chiton, leaving her body stunningly naked before him.

"Gods, you're breathtaking," said Praxis as he looked at her.

He truly meant it. Even though Astara had pushed most of his thoughts of Lysandra out of his mind, it didn't mean the sexy redhead was any less gorgeous. Having Lysandra in bed would be the highlight of just about any man's life, and Praxis mentally chastised himself for forgetting about the sweet music their bodies made together.

It seemed that Lysandra wanted to waste no time in reminding him either. She'd barely stroked him to hardness before she was mounting him, not stopping until his manhood slipped entirely inside her body.

Their movements were rapid and fiery--a reminder of that very first night. Lysandra came multiple times before she was satisfied, but when she finally collapsed on his bed, she was wearing a very content smile.

"I really don't want to go two weeks without that again," she said, stroking his chest with her finger. "That was amazing."

Though Lysandra seemed completely happy with the way the afternoon went down, Praxis was feeling a little conflicted. He'd succumbed so easily to sex with Lysandra after trying so hard to get Astara back earlier this morning. What kind of a man was he?

Even though Astara was quite adamant about their relationship being over, he knew the truth was much more complicated than that. And it wasn't like he hated what he did with Lysandra either. In fact, he enjoyed every second of being with her.