The Argive Ch. 051-055

The Argive -- Chapters 051-055

*****

Chapter 51: Opening Up

"Horn of Hades, that fucking hurts!"

Praxis gripped the bed with all the strength that his hands would allow. His wrists and his side burned with a fire that should be reserved for the underworld. The pain was excruciating but he got the sense that if he could just sit upright, it might be worth it.

That notion was quickly put to rest as his side started to actually pulse with pain once his feet hit the ground. Praxis ground his teeth together as he tried to withstand it but he couldn't take it any longer. His back hit the bed within seconds, causing him to let out a subtle moan of pain in his retreat.

"I'm never going to get out of this bed," he grumbled, clutching his side.

It had only been a day since he woke up in the small, nameless village in Arcadia. It had been a day filled with agony--both in the physical and the mental sense. The physical was obvious but the mental was owed to the fact that Praxis was now an exile.

He was a man without a home. He was nothing more than a vagabond in a world that was cold and unfeeling. What was even worse was that he'd dragged someone else into his misery.

"Praxis, what did you try to do?"

Lysandra must have heard the commotion because she rushed into the room, not stopping until she was at his bedside. She took one look at his body and gasped.

"Your wound has opened again. Blessed Demeter, what were you doing that caused it?"

There was no use lying to her. Not after they came this far.

"I was trying to get on my feet," he explained. "I'm tired of being in this bed, bored out of my mind. I figured if I could just stand up, I might not feel so damned helpless."

He might as well have admitted to cheating on her because the reaction was the same. Lysandra's face turned red in anger.

"You stupid man, what were you thinking?" she bellowed. "You know what Demetrios said! You can't get out of bed for a week at minimum! Why would you do something like this that's only going to prolong your misery?"

"I can't imagine being any more miserable than I am right now," he muttered. "You try being stuck in this bed."

Lysandra gave him a knowing look. "You think I'm not bored too? I'm stuck in this house just as much as you are."

That was indeed true, as Demetrios had warned them about going outside, especially into the rest of the village, which would just as soon give them up to the Spartans in order to maintain their protection.

"At least you can get up and walk around, Lysandra. I'm just stuck here."

Her rage finally cooled some. "I know it's hard but it's the only way. You should be thankful that you're still here in this world. I was afraid you might have gone to the underworld for a little while."

"I nearly did," replied Praxis, remembering the dream he had while he was unconscious. Or was it a dream? "Thankfully, Athena wasn't ready for me yet. She still needs me here."

She gave him an odd look. "One of these days you're going to have to tell me about this sudden pivot to Athena. It's a little out of character for you."

"I can tell you now, seeing as we have all the free time in the world. Athena is my new personal goddess. I've given up Apollo for her."

"Why?" asked Lysandra before lowering her voice. "Is it because your mother is gone? Or your adopted family? I know how closely they were associated with Apollo."

Praxis shook his head. "Nothing like that. It just struck me that Athena is better suited to be my patron than Apollo ever was. I mean look at me and then look at what Apollo is known for. Revelry, drinking, parties--is that me? Athena is more representative of who I am."

Lysandra shrugged. "If it makes you happy. And as long as Apollo doesn't get upset with you for the abandonment."

"I'm happy with Athena's blessing. She's taking care of me now."

It was almost as if the goddess had heard his words. A stiff breeze blew into the room, carrying a scent from far away. It was the scent of olives--a symbol of Athena. Praxis smiled a little as he thought about what happening in his dream. Athena was watching after all.

Lysandra smirked at him. "I thought it was me that was taking care of you."

"You're doing an excellent job at it as well, let me assure you," said Praxis. He held out his arm and Lysandra took the invitation, slipping into bed with him. It wasn't for any kind of adult activity but rather for the closeness. Praxis found that he liked having her body against his. It was calming in a way that he hadn't expected.

"As long as you know who's doing the heavy lifting," she teased.

"Trust me, I know," he muttered.

There was silence for several minutes. Despite the closeness of Lysandra, he couldn't help but drift back to think about Argos. Praxis wondered when he would ever see his home city again, or whether he would even want to go with Xanthos in charge of it. He also thought about how many had died in that last attack. Many were friends of his like Theron and Lysander.

None of them deserved the fate they received.

"Hey."

Praxis turned his head to look at Lysandra.

She caressed his jaw softly. "You're far away again."

"How could you tell?"

"There's this look you get in your eyes. Even when you're looking right at me, you're distant. It's like you could be on the other side of Greece. What's wrong?"

"The same thing that was wrong yesterday and the day before," replied Praxis. "Argos."

Lysandra swallowed heavily and nodded. "I miss it there. And I really miss my brother."

"Something's been weighing on me," admitted Praxis. "And I feel the need to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry that he died."

She shook her head. "It wasn't your fault."

"If he hadn't trained with me, he might not have fought back. He might have stayed put and he might still be alive today."

"But he's not," said Lysandra. "I get what you're doing but we can't play the what-if game. Lysander did what he thought was right. Isn't that what you told me right after we left Argos?"

Praxis nodded. "You're right."

"Well, then we don't need to go down this road. He's not coming back, but I miss him greatly. Sometimes, it just hits me that I'm never going to see his face again. After all we've been through, that hurts the most."

Praxis held her close to him, listening to her soft breathing. He thought that might be the end of the conversation but Lysandra surprised him with what she said next.

"Ever since our parents died, it's only been Lysander and me. So many years have passed that I can scarcely remember their faces. All I remember is that I was ten which would have made Lysander six. Our parents owned some property in the Argolis--a small farm that wasn't very productive but it allowed us to have a house in the city. One day, they told us they were going out to the farm to bring their olives into the city. We never saw them again."

"Do you know what happened to them?" asked Praxis.

Lysandra shook her head. "I assume it was brigands but I don't know for sure. All I know is that they never came home. We waited for days, even attempting to go to the farm on our own in search of them. We never found them. I can only imagine what happened to them but they would have to be dead. After all, who else would just abandon their children like that?"

Lysandra sniffled and continued. "After that, we were lucky that my mother's brother was still alive. He would support us for the next six years until he died. Our uncle wasn't a rich man by any stretch of the imagination but he helped us stay afloat with money. The first thing that had to go was the farm. That bought us about a year or two of money but when that ran out, we sold the house in the city next. Our uncle found us the current house we were living in--much smaller than what we had before but more manageable. It was around that time that I started to work full-time as well. My first job was as a baker's assistant. It wasn't much but it allowed me to take care of the house and Lysander."

Lysandra wiped a tear from her face. "Most people don't have to grow up that early but we didn't have a choice. Looking back on it, I don't know if I could have done it just on my own. I had my brother with me. He needed me and if I let him down, it meant starvation, or worse, death. He was the one that kept me going. At least if I had nothing else, I had him."

She took a deep breath as her body shuddered. "Now what do I have? I have no family, Praxis. They're all dead and it's just me. What else am I here for?"

Praxis pulled her close. "You have me, don't you? Doesn't that count for something?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "Thank the gods that I do because I don't know what I would do otherwise."

"You'd be strong," said Praxis. "You're one of the strongest women I know, Lysandra. I know it might not feel like it now, but you're resilient. You'll get through this and you won't have to do it alone. This pain that you're feeling is only temporary. Together, we'll move past it."

Lysandra closed her eyes for a moment. "You know something? There isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank Hera, Demeter, and all the gods that you're in my life. I don't know how you do it but you always know how to say the right thing."

"My stepfather would have disagreed with you," replied Praxis. "But I appreciate the sentiment either way."

She actually smiled at him. "Your stepfather was wrong. You're a good person, Praxis. And though I only have one person left in the entire world, I'm glad it's you."

Praxis leaned over to kiss her. "You won't do this alone, I promise you."

"And I'll give you the same promise. No matter where this journey takes us, you'll never do it alone. I don't care where we go. If it's Messenia, then I'll gladly follow you. I'm not trying to replace my brother but rather, I'm trying to be thankful that even though someone has been pulled out of my life, the gods have seen it fit to put someone new into it."

"Not bad for a one-night stand either, is it?"

Lysandra started to laugh. "Not bad at all. Not bad at all."

Chapter 52: Sparta Returns

"Form up, men! Stand together and make ready for battle!"

Agemon was in a hurry and today was a very bad day for getting left behind. Just to his left was the pride of the city of Corinth. The city's army occupied a flat plain only about four miles southwest from the city. Older and younger men alike moved forward in one line several ranks deep. Most of them held their swords and spears like they might reach back and bite them. Their mettle would be sorely tested today, as the army of their enemy was now taking the field.

Agemon looked on the other side, where he could now see the Spartans marching onto the field in orderly fashion. Even from this first vantage point, it was obvious that the Spartans were better trained and drilled than the Corinthians. Their ranks marched closely together and at the same speed, moving like one giant beast instead of many small insects.

Agemon swallowed heavily and decided to keep moving. If Corinth was going to win the day, he had to keep up the men's morale. Only men with a firm and patriotic purpose could hope to stand against the Spartans.

It was the only advantage they had.

He moved quickly through a section of the line made up of about three hundred volunteers--men who'd answered Cypselus' call to fight Spartan tyranny. These were men from Athens, from Thebes, from Thessaly and other small cities in between. Their numbers were much needed but even with the volunteers, the Corinthians were outnumbered by a third.

If there was ever a need for divine intervention, today was the day for it.

Agemon continued moving until he reached a group of men just beyond the foreign volunteers. Many of them were men that he recognized, being part of his ad hoc training group that he'd set up after Praxis went back to Argos. They saw him coming first.

"Agemon, there you are!" yelled out one of them. "We thought you might join us in giving the Spartans a traditional Corinthian welcome today." The man grinned and thrust forward with his sword, leaving no doubt as to what the welcome would be.

Agemon laughed and nodded his head. "I'll never miss a chance to welcome the enemy to our city. They're going to wish they never took our form of welcome though."

"We're going to have to give out many such welcomes today in order to stay on the field. The Spartans outnumber us and they're good fighters," added another man, clearly more apprehensive than the first.

There was some grumbling around him, showing Agemon that their anxiety ran deeper than he imagined.

"Don't give into your fears," said Agemon quietly. "Those men across the battlefield? They're still men, just like you and me. They might be wearing a fancy red cloak but they still bleed. And they're going to need that cloak to hide all the blood that we're going to draw from them today, right?"

There were some cheers that erupted from that speech and the second man said nothing more. Truthfully, Agemon knew he had a point but it would do no good for the men to hear that. They had to go into battle with confidence to the point of insanity. It was only the only way they might beat the odds stacked in front of them.

"Remember our training today," continued Agemon. "This isn't just some fight for the sake of fighting. This fight is for all of Corinth. It's for your families, for your wives, and for your children. Today, we're going to show Sparta that they should have never left their city. Today, we're going to show Sparta what it means to be a warrior from Corinth. Are you with me, my friends?"

A loud deafening roar erupted from the men, warming Agemon's heart. He knew they would fight with courage and skill today. Raising his sword, he nodded to them and kept moving, having similar speeches with men all down the line for the next half hour.

Finally, it was time for Agemon to take his place. He moved to the right flank, taking his position near another group of his handpicked men just as the Spartans started to cross the field. Even here, they seemed to move as if one giant beast, their shields all at the same level and perfectly faced. Agemon swallowed heavily as the Spartans got closer.

"Prepare your spears!" he bellowed once they were close enough.

All along the Corinthian line, those men with spears yanked them back, waiting for the right moment to launch. Just across from them, the Spartans came to a halt to prepare the same movement.

In a sudden blur of activity, the Corinthian spears were released, sailing through the air into the Spartan host. A good number of Spartans were felled, although Agemon was disheartened to see how many were still left standing after the volley. After that, it was their turn.

They pulled back their spears as one and launched them directly into the Corinthian line. Screams and yells were heard instantly as a great mass of men on Agemon's side fell. For many of them, it wasn't a killing stroke but it was enough to disable them for the rest of the battle as their limbs were pierced. Agemon was further discouraged to see that the Spartan spear volley was much more deadly than their own had been.

After the spears had been exchanged, it was time for combat.

"Hold fast, men!" yelled Agemon. "Make them wish they never came to Corinth!"

In a great wave of humanity, the Spartan line crashed against the Corinthians moments later. Almost instantly, the Corinthian side wavered from the force of the blow. Several men fell over, never to rise again before the Spartans even started their butchery.

And butchery it was because they left no one alive who could even bear a sword, even those that were merely wounded were quickly dispatched by a sword to the chest. The Spartan juggernaut continued onward, its neatly packed ranks loosening to allow for individual combat. It was here that the superiority of the Spartan warrior showed its value. Their better-trained men were too good for the Corinthians, who couldn't match their moves nor stand up to them for very long.

Even Agemon had a hard time with it. The first Spartan to square off against him drew blood as his blade nicked the side of torso not covered by armor. Agemon got his revenge moments later when he severed the Spartan's arm but he was one of the lucky ones.

Most of the Corinthians were already trying to retreat.

"Stand your ground!" he yelled at the men trying to run from the field. In his anger, Agemon raced after them, bellowing at the top of his lungs for them to get back in the line.

It was a lost cause. So frightened were they by Spartan power that most of them had already forgotten the boasts they made before the battle to send the invading power back to where they came from. Now it was only a matter of survival.

It was in this chaos and panic that the entire army started to disintegrate. Men kept streaming from the rear ranks, making their way back to the city as fast as their legs could carry them.

Just when Agemon thought it couldn't get any worse, the Spartans broke through on the left flank, chopping all the Corinthians stationed there to bits. Any semblance of control disappeared at that point as the entire Corinthian army broke and ran back to the city.

Just as quickly as it began, the battle was now over. Corinth was as good as lost.

*****

The news couldn't have reached the city in a more devastating manner. Cypselus and his family were watching from the main gate, waiting for word of any movement. Though his two young daughters seemed blissfully unaware of the importance of what was going on, the look on his wife's face spoke volumes.

"Strength to you my husband," said his wife, Lyra, as she hugged him tightly. "The army is fighting for its home. They won't falter so quickly."

"But the Spartans are fighting for loot and plunder," replied Cypselus. "I wonder which motive will carry the day?"

He didn't have to wonder for very long as the first streams of Corinthian men made their way back to the city. Some of them limped, having taken wounds from the battle. Most of them ran, moving as quickly as their legs could carry them from the Spartan beast.

Seeing the magnitude of them, Cypselus knew they were bested. There would only be a short time before the main host of Spartans arrived, and they would occupy the entire city.

As long of a day as it had been for Corinth, the true test for its inhabitants wouldn't begin until the Spartans entered. That's when they would all feel the Spartan fury.

"We must go," said Cypselus to his family. "We cannot stay here. The Spartans will be here quickly."

Lyra said nothing except for a quick word to their daughters to move quickly. They weren't the only ones watching the road, as many of the citizens of Corinth had done the same, hoping to be the first to see the news of the battle.

Now that it was here, they rushed in a panic to get out of the city before the Spartans arrived. Ordered anxiety turned to disordered panic quickly. By the time Cypselus arrived at his house, the city was almost riotous.

"We need to leave now," he yelled at his family. "Before it's too late!"

Soon they could hear men at the door, many of them pounding to have it opened. Cypselus knew why they were doing so. More than likely, there were some citizens that hoped they could spare their fates with the Spartans if they presented the dead king at their feet. Cypselus swallowed hard and clutched his sword, ready to defend his family to the death if need be.

Suddenly, the door swung open widely as a large familiar face entered, his sword drawn and covered in blood.

It was Agemon.

"We need to get you out of the city," he said to Cypselus. "I just had to kill three men who were trying to get to you first."