The Argive Ch. 051-055

Cypselus looked relieved at first until he remembered the danger he was in. He eyed Agemon's sword warily.

"Are you going to help us, Agemon? I'd understand if you didn't but I need to know where you stand right now."

Agemon shook his head fiercely. "As far as I'm concerned, you're the King of Corinth as long as you're alive. I told you at one time that I'd always fight for you and for our city. Nothing that's happened today has changed that."

Cypselus let out a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods, Agemon. I don't know what I would do if we lost you too."

"Come on, we can talk about that later," said Agemon. "The Spartans will be here soon! We need to move!"

Cypselus and his family decked themselves out in hooded cloaks to obscure their identities. They exited out the rear door, joining a whole host of citizenry who were now making for the east gate--the only one that led away from the Peloponnese and the Spartans. Before they could leave though, Agemon made a quick detour to stop a plain-looking woman near the gate. He spoke with her for several moments before rejoining Cypselus.

"Who was that?" asked Cypselus, gesturing to the woman.

"Someone I care about greatly," replied Agemon. "Her name is Cora and with your permission, she's going to join us."

"Fine by me, but we need to keep moving," said Cypselus.

Luckily for them, they weren't waiting for Cora very long. The young woman joined their group as they exited out of the east gate, not stopping until they could see the city just in the distance. The Spartans were in full control already.

"I'd hoped I'd never have to see the day when I had to leave Corinth in this fashion," admitted Cypselus quietly as they looked out on the city.

"We may have lost this battle but not the war, my king," replied Agemon. "There is still hope for us. As long as we're alive, there's still hope."

"I hope you're right, Agemon. The gods know we need all the hope we can get."

Chapter 53: On the Strength of Women

"I'm sorry, Praxis. I just don't feel like talking much right now."

It was an excuse that was becoming all too common. In the past two days since their talk about Lysandra's family, she'd had her ups and down. Praxis imagined that after getting it all out, like they did in their talk, she might not be nearly as melancholy as she was when they first arrived in Arcadia but it was the opposite.

Lysandra seemed like she was pulling away from him. It happened yet again this morning when Praxis invited her into his bed after she fixed the dressing on his torso. It wasn't for a sexual purpose either and yet Lysandra wasn't interested, giving him the usual excuse and going to the other room.

It confused him to no end. As much as he tried, Lysandra kept waffling back and forth between morbidity and reluctant acceptance. It was the worst kind of pain to deal with--knowing that she was suffering but having no idea about how to help. How could he help someone who didn't want it?

At least Praxis wasn't the only one to notice.

"Lysandra doesn't seem in the right headspace right now," noted Demetrios as he brought in a foul concoction that he called medicine. Truthfully, Praxis would rather drink goat's piss than that medicine one more time.

"Why is she still so upset?" continued the older man.

"Lysandra hasn't had the easiest life," replied Praxis. "She doesn't have any family left in this world. Her parents and her brother are both dead. You can say the realization is taking a toll on her. She seems to have her good days and bad days."

"But she has you," pointed out Demetrios.

Praxis shrugged. "Some days, I guess that's not enough."

"I suppose not. Losing family is hard though. I've lost enough family and friends throughout the years to be somewhat hardened to it but that comes with age. Young people like yourself probably feel it especially more. The pain is more raw."

"That's not mentioning that her brother died violently," added Praxis. "It certainly doesn't help the situation."

Demetrios looked at Praxis' wound and raised an eyebrow. "If I had to guess, it was in the same fight you were in? Was he also part of the Argive army?"

Praxis nodded and said no more. Other than the fact that he was an Argive, he'd told Demetrios nothing further about his identity. He didn't know if it would help or hurt to know his relationship to Damian but he was going to keep that information inside him until he deemed it worthy of escaping.

"I lost my brother to fighting at one point," said Demetrios, handing Praxis the concoction. "Nasty business but every land has the need for warriors. He fought because he believed he needed to fight--a delusion that most young men suffer from. He had gumption inside of him, lots of it too. Myself on the other hand, I was never much of a fighter. I wanted to heal things, not kill them."

"The world needs a lot more people like you in it," noted Praxis. "Maybe less like me."

"One way or another, the gods find a way to bring the world into balance," said Demetrios. "I always saw my brother and I as that kind of balance so it never bothered me. Well, it never bothered me until the day he died."

Demetrios took a deep breath before he continued. "At least for his sake, my daughter ended up with a good degree of his genes than my own."

"You had a daughter?"

Demetrios grinned at him. "What? You think Rastus just sprung up from the ground or something?"

Praxis found himself laughing at that while the old man continued.

"No, my daughter was much like my brother. I recognized it from a young age. At first, I tried to squash it. Most of the other girls her age wanted to be just like their mothers, or perhaps their older sisters. They wanted to find nice men to marry and start a family. Not my girl though. She wanted to trample through the mud and throw clumps of earth at the boys. As soon as she was old enough, she wanted to learn how to wield a sword, and she was an expert with it by the time she was twelve."

"Twelve, you said?" asked Praxis, raising an eyebrow. "That's a young age to be waving a sword around let alone to be an expert."

"Such is life in Arcadia," replied Demetrios. "This is a hard country where only the strong survive. Children must learn to grow into adulthood quickly, while they still have the chance. My daughter was one that took that to heart but in her own way. Instead of asking for my permission to marry one of the local boys, she wanted to run away to join some foreign army." Demetrios laughed and shook his head. "I don't think she knew that Arcadia was an exception to the rule. In other lands, they don't allow women to be warriors."

"She must have been disappointed by that news."

Demetrios blew air out of his mouth. "Heartbroken. You would think it was the end of the world. There were days when I thought she might still run away just to see if I could be proven wrong. Surprisingly, she didn't try it. She was a smart girl and I think she knew that I had no reason to lie to her."

"Not even to keep her safe?"

Demetrios chuckled. "I'd given up on that a long time ago. I just wanted her to be happy. She was always going to find the means to it on her own so I had no reason to delay her. It was never going to change her mind."

"So what happened next?" asked Praxis. "Where is she now?"

A look of profound sadness appeared on the old man's face.

"She's not here anymore. Like I said before, Arcadia is a wild and dangerous land and my daughter was determined to fight. She finally found the fight she was looking for, alongside a man that she couldn't look away from. For nearly two years, they tried to rid Arcadia of all the brigands that the land attracts but one day, she bit off more than she could chew. She failed to come home, leaving me stranded with a newborn Rastus. I was devastated, much like your friend is right now, but you can say that I was prepared for it."

"Prepared? Why is that?"

"It's just the kind of life she was meant for," he said, shaking his head sadly. "My daughter was never going to die old. I knew she was going to go out with a sword in her hand. That's just how she was. I accepted it a long time ago, and I learned to view her skills as her greatest strength. She was one of the strongest women I know. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her."

Praxis found himself nodding. "Speaking of strong women, I knew one myself. One that also is no longer with us. My mother. Her name was Doris and she was amongst the best."

Demetrios gave him an odd look. "I've heard that name before. Where have I heard it?"

Praxis didn't answer the question for him, though he could easily. Thankfully, the old man didn't dwell on it.

"It's of no matter I suppose," admitted Demetrios. "What made your mother so special besides the obvious familial connection?"

"She was everything to everyone," replied Praxis. "She gave her heart and soul into everything. And everyone loved her. She might not have been a warrior but she fought her battles with her heart. That was always good enough for us."

"Lysandra seems like a similar kind of woman," noted Demetrios. "And it's not hard to see that she cares for you greatly."

Praxis smiled. "Argos has done a great job of raising strong women."

"I haven't been to Argos in nearly fifteen years," admitted Demetrios. "Probably not since you were a very young boy. I wonder if the city has changed much in that time. Truthfully, I never had a high opinion of King Damian."

Praxis scoffed. "You would be in good company then. He wasn't what you would call an inspiring king."

"No, that he wasn't. Better no king than a mediocre one, I'd say. At least he married well. I remember his two wives but for the life of me, I can't remember their names."

Praxis swallowed hard, hoping that he wasn't going to ask them. There would be no way that hearing his mother's name wouldn't allow him to connect the dots.

"Did you know the royal family there?" asked Demetrios.

"Barely," lied Praxis. "And only by sight, not by name. They didn't seem like the most friendly of groups. There appeared to be a lot of tension in that family."

"Well, that's what you get when your first wife hates your second one," said Demetrios with a chuckle. "I'm sure it's even worse for the children."

"No doubt that you're right about that," added Praxis. If only he really knew...

"Either way, it doesn't surprise me that the city fell to the Spartans," continued Demetrios. "Such tension at the top of the leadership wasn't bound to work out well. That kind of tension will only breed more of it. A city with disunited leadership is destined to fail."

"Perhaps they just needed someone like your daughter or my mother to give them strength?" offered Praxis.

"Perhaps but we will never know," said Demetrios. He was quiet for a moment before his body language started to change. His eyes became wide and then he started to stare at Praxis. Finally, Praxis could ignore it no longer.

"Demetrios? What's the problem?"

The old man began to shake his finger. "I remember now. I've finally remembered."

"Remembered what?"

"Where I heard that name before," said the old man, grinning to himself at his cleverness. "Doris, wasn't it? It's not a common name but I did hear that Queen Doris of Argos just died recently. That's the woman you're talking about, isn't it? That was your mother?"

Praxis thought about denying it but there was no use now. Demetrios had his number.

Praxis nodded his head slowly. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell you. Especially with what you admitted about the feelings in your village concerning the Spartans."

Demetrios waved his hand. "Blessed Demeter, that doesn't matter right now. This takes me back in my years, reminding me of my youth. Back to when my daughter was still little. When I used to travel to Argos frequently. This is a good thing for you, Praxis."

"Why would that be?" he asked, finding himself thoroughly confused.

Demetrios smiled as he said the fateful words. "Because I know about your family. And I certainly knew your father."

Chapter 54: Parental Ties

Praxis' mouth hung open upon hearing that last statement. "You knew my father?"

"I did," confirmed Demetrios. "I knew him when he wasn't much older than you. He looked a good deal like you as well now that I think about it. He passed through this village, doing almost the same thing you are now. Except his destination was east, not west."

"East to Argos," replied Praxis. "He was the king there for a short time. A few years at least."

"Yes, all the good that did him though. His kingship was a sad tale too. Truthfully, I think it broke him as a man. Evander was never the same after that. I have to wonder if he regrets ever taking the kingship of the city."

Hearing his father's name caused a surge of interest in Praxis. He found himself sitting upright, something he did today with considerably less pain.

"Can you tell me what you know of him? How did you meet him? What was he like?"

Demetrios gave him an odd look. "You ask questions like you haven't seen him in quite a long time."

"You'd be right about that. I don't have any memories of him. Only what I've been told by my mother before she died. And that was pretty scant at that."

"Hmm," said Demetrios, rubbing his chin. "It's been a long time since I've thought about him. I might miss most of the details. But yes, I first met him when he came through here many years ago. He was from Messenia, and I remember he had a noticeable accent the first time he spoke to me. He was incredibly tall as well, something you've seemed to inherit from him. It sets you apart from your other Argives."

"I've been called a foreigner most of my life by my own people," replied Praxis. "I assumed my father's heritage had something to do with it."

"Yes, for you are more Messenian than you are an Argive. At least, you seem to favor your father's side more than your mother's." At this point, Demetrios let out a chuckle. "Doris. I can't believe it took me so long to recognize her name. The last time I saw her, you were only a boy. How much has changed for you."

"Do you know why my father was coming east?" pressed Praxis. "Was he escaping someplace too?"

Demetrios shook his head. "Not even close. Your father was more of an adventurer than anything else. He was always looking for excitement, and he frequently found it. I think he was tired of his life in Messenia. That, or he'd had all the fun there that he could stand. Either way, he came through looking for a new land but I knew a rustic place like Arcadia wouldn't suit him. He needed something bigger--something grander."

"It's so strange in a way," continued Demetrios. "He was so full of life in those days. He could be reckless and aggressive but he was always friendly to me. It was just in his nature to try to do things that others couldn't, and he would always attempt to do it with a smile on his face. Evander was truly one of a kind. I always wished I had his confidence."

"Did he come alone?" asked Praxis. "I've always heard that he met my mother in Argos."

Demetrios started to chuckle. "No, he wasn't alone. And that's a story more so about Doris than anything else. He traveled with a woman--a pretty thing that he'd brought with him from Messenia. From what I remember, it wasn't just a fling either. Things were serious between them but it wasn't until he met your mother that their relationship ended. That says a lot about who Doris was to be honest. I think she made it clear to him that she wasn't going to share and that was that."

Praxis found that hard to believe. "It surprises me to hear that, especially with her being Damian's second wife. She didn't mind sharing him."

"Well, I think a lot of that goes toward who the man is," replied Demetrios. "But from what I remember, she was every bit as fiery as he was in those early days. Perhaps it's why they were such a great match."

"So did they not meet until he arrived in Argos then?"

"As far as I know, that's when it happened. But they really did make a great pair. They were both young, driven, and ambitious. And Evander was such a good fighter in those days. You can say it's not surprising that he ended up as the king."

"I haven't heard a lot about those days when he was king. I know that after Damian became king, he made it a law that no one was permitted to say my father's name. Or to even talk about his rulership of the city."

Demetrios snorted. "That doesn't surprise me. Damian was insecure, especially when it came to one of his wives' former lovers. But then again, he had a lot to be insecure about when it came to his reign when compared to Evander's. He really was a great king."

"Really?" asked Praxis. "My mother told me the only reason he wasn't king anymore was because he left. Because he found it too hard to be a king, especially with a famine during his reign. I'm surprised to hear you say that."

"Sure, but that wasn't your father's fault," replied Demetrios. "He just took the brunt of it, as kings normally do in times of struggle. And then there were the Spartans to consider, as well as your brother's death. What I think happened was that he had all of those issues all at once and it just broke him. He was never the same man after that. Something inside him died that day. I know because I saw him shortly afterward. It was probably the last time that I came to Argos--right before he left the city. You could see it in his face, Praxis. There was a great sorrow in his eyes, like someone who bit off more than they could chew. It was like he felt like a failure."

Praxis grunted. "I think I know how he feels right now."

"I'm not sure that you do, son. I see the spark of life in you still. Your father lost that. In a moment, all his brashness and his confidence was gone. It's like that bravado was only an inch deep. Once it was blemished, it was destroyed completely. I always found him hard to read but that really took the cake. I only found out later that he abandoned you and your mother. But I didn't see him. He didn't come through my village on the way back to Messenia."

"How do you know he went back to Messenia?"

"At one point, he told me he wanted to go back. I think part of him regretting leaving and trying to make it abroad. I don't know if he had any family back in the city but I'm guessing that might have had something to do with it too. It's like this--his heart never left Messenia. That's why I believe that if he's still alive, he'll be there."

"Part of what I'm trying to do is to go to Messenia," admitted Praxis. "With Argos having fallen under Spartan dominion, it seems like the next logical place for me to go. I was hoping I might find him."

"If he's still alive, I'm sure you'll find him."

"But that's the thing, I don't know if he's still alive," said Praxis. "I don't know what he looks like. All I have is a name."

Demetrios started to chuckle. "If you need to know what he looks like, just find the nearest river and look over the side of it. To see you is to see Evander, Praxis. You'll know him when you see him. You have every bit of his likeness."

That statement was something that made Praxis pause for a moment. He hadn't thought of his image as being helpful in finding his father. Until now, it was only a small hope that he'd be able to locate the man at all but now that he had a name and a likeness, maybe there was still hope?

Even still, it might not be that easy.

"I sometimes question whether or not I want to see him after all this time. He abandoned us, and I don't know if I can forgive him for doing so. What if I should just leave it in the past?"

Demetrios started to shake his head. "That is for you to decide and no one else. I can't make up your mind on that but if you want to know where to start, go to Messene--the city that gave its name to Messenia. If Evander is to be found, he'll be there. I will say this though--you might want to give him a chance. It's been many years since he left your family. No doubt it still weighs on him. Sometimes, I wonder how the years have treated him. I wonder if he ever recovered from those losses. Probably not is my guess. He could have been great but he retreated from it, Praxis. I'm sure it kills him to this day. Keep that in mind if you decide to confront him."