The Argive Ch. 071-075

And yet, no matter how many times the issue made it to Xanthos' desk, his response never changed.

"The Spartans are untouchable," he replied dismissively. "They are our firm allies, and I won't do anything to jeopardize that partnership."

Astara rolled her eyes as she thought about the last time he said that. He was such a weak king--exactly the kind of weakness that could destroy the city. He was even worse than Damian, if that was possible. At least Damian tried to preserve their autonomy because he knew what it would lead to.

Xanthos just didn't care. As long as he could count on the Spartans to be his backbone, he would permit any atrocity like the good lapdog he was.

It turned Astara's stomach, especially the thought of being his wife. At least their marriage was a political one. Xanthos must have suspected her utter disdain for him because he never came calling to exercise his marital privileges. That was left to Melitta, a woman whose temperament was a very close match to his.

For the most part, Astara was happy to play the role of palace recluse as long as it meant the safety of her family.

"Astara!"

She turned from toward the door quickly as she heard her name, her eyes going wide when she saw her little brother, Nico, making his way inside.

Astara's eyes instantly went to the red mark on his cheek.

"What happened to you, Nico? Did someone hit you?"

The young boy nodded his head slowly. "It was nothing, I promise. I deserved it in all honesty."

Astara planted her hands on her hips. "Nico, what happened? Who did this to you?"

"I don't want to tell you," he said, his voice no louder than a whimper.

"Was it the Spartans? Tell me honestly."

His eyes gave it away. "Yes, but I deserved it. I ran into one of the soldiers by accident. I wasn't watching where I was going in the marketplace and I stepped on his foot. He hit me but I deserved it."

"Blessed Demeter, not you too," muttered Astara as she rubbed his cheek gently with her hand. "Go see our mother. Maybe there's something she can rub on it to make the red go away."

"You're not going to say anything to Xanthos, are you?" asked the boy fearfully. "The last time it happened, I didn't care for the outcome."

Truthfully, neither did Astara. Xanthos viewed Nico as little more than a pesky in-law, a boy that was determined to be a nuisance. Nico was no different than any other seven-year-old boy and he did find himself in his fair share of trouble, but all of it was harmless.

Even still, she wouldn't expect Xanthos to lift a finger about this. There wasn't even a point in trying when she already knew the answer.

"I won't say anything for now," said Astara with a sigh. "Not like it would do any good anyway. But you need to stay away from the Spartans. You're lucky this was all you got. I've heard enough stories by now."

"What kind of stories?" asked Nico.

"The kind that you don't need to know about yet," replied Astara quickly. "Now go run along to mother. Quickly."

The boy let out an exaggerated breath as he left. "I miss how things used to be in Argos."

That simple statement provoked a heartfelt sigh from Astara. She also missed the old Argos, which seemed more and more like a dream that was never coming back. She missed those simple days when she wasn't the queen and she didn't have to worry about the next atrocity.

More than anything, she almost missed someone who wasn't in the city any longer.

There was hardly a day that went by when she didn't think about Praxis. Though their relationship had ended badly, she still cared for him greatly. He hadn't been seen since the city fell but there were rumors about the escape of many former citizens, making their way in all directions as refugees. Though she didn't know what happened to him, she had hope that he was still alive and that they might be reunited one day.

Although, reunited for what purpose? She was now married to another man, a man who was Praxis' stepbrother. And though she hated Xanthos with every fiber of her being, he was the reason her family stayed safe in Argos. She knew that any other boy that had an altercation with the Spartans would come away far worse than just a firm smack against the cheek.

Astara had never felt more thoroughly stuck.

She was living a life that she didn't want with a man that she hated. How had things turned sour so quickly?

And was there any hope of turning it around?

Chapter 75: The King of Thieves

Praxis' nose was bleeding.

His legs were cut up and the loaner sword he'd taken from Zenais was in the hands of another man.

He was still alive but that wasn't saying much. He'd been thrown into a small cave that was carved into the side of the mountain--one that was quite similar to the one that he'd shared with Lysandra for their third trial.

However, this cave was guarded by men of the King's Band. The Band had also tied up his feet and hands to prevent any unnecessary movement (but not before roughing him up in the process).

The only good thing about being in the cave was reuniting with Lysandra. Her limbs were bound as well but she still managed to scramble over to him and Zenais when they were brought in.

"Thank the gods you're here," said Lysandra as she pushed her body against his. "Are you okay? What happened? How did you get here? Why are you bleeding?"

Praxis spent the better part of ten minutes filling her in on the details of what happened after she was captured, ending with their decision to assault the hideout.

"That was incredibly brave, Praxis, but why did you do that?" she asked. "You couldn't do this on your own."

"I wasn't exactly on my own," he replied. "I had Zenais with me. And we had the element of surprise. I just had to see if I could free you. I couldn't leave you in the hands of these men."

Lysandra gave him a sad smile. "I love you but it was still a stupid decision. You should have just moved on."

"You and I both know that was never going to happen so you might as well save your breath."

Lysandra gave him a knowing look before she turned to Zenais. "She's still out cold. She's breathing but it's pretty shallow."

Before Praxis could say anything further, a visitor appeared at the entrance to the cave.

"You're wanted by the king," grunted the bandit to Praxis. "Let's go."

Praxis nodded his head and turned toward Lysandra.

"Will you keep an eye on her?" he asked, gesturing to Zenais. "I'm thinking she'll be fine but I don't want anything to happen to her. She made the decision to help me rescue you after all."

"Of course," she replied. "Be safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

"No promises," replied Praxis as he was led away. The bandit led him from the cave to the other side of the small plateau that made up the hideout. On this side, Praxis was brought directly to their leader--the self-styled king of the entire Band.

Praxis had spotted him from the ledge high above the hideout when he and Zenais were scouting the position but being this close to the man let him appraise his features. The beard was the most defining characteristic of his face. Despite the man being twice Praxis' age, the beard still showed only solid dark hair without the hint of gray. It jutted out from his chin several inches, giving the impression of experience and wisdom in the process.

The rest of him was just as imposing as his beard. He had a high forehead that was cut with deep wrinkles and shoulders that were so broad that he must have had to turn sideways to get through some doors. He certainly didn't look much like the average bandit but then again, Praxis suspected that was why he was the king.

"So you're the one they call Praxis," said the king, offering a temporary smile. "My name is Archimedes and this is my kingdom."

"Some kingdom you have here," replied Praxis as he looked around the rocky plateau. "You're certainly not the king of very much."

To his surprise, Archimedes started to chuckle. "No, you're right about that. My kingdom is quite small compared to the one that you grew up in. Argos, right? We pinned the redhead as being an Argive as soon as she was brought in."

"That's right, we're from Argos," answered Praxis.

"I've been there several times," replied Archimedes. "A nice place but a soft place as well. Argives don't do well here in the wilds of Arcadia, as you've no doubt noticed. You cause a lot of attention--attention that me and my people have already picked up on. That's why you're sitting here in my company now. Now the only question I have is what to do with you."

At that moment, Archimedes produced the sword that Praxis had borrowed from Zenais. He gave it several quick swipes through the air.

"This is a decent blade. It's a worthy blade for a man such as yourself. Did you know that I'm quite the swordsman myself?"

"Perhaps you'd like to test those skills in a contest with me right now?" offered Praxis.

Archimedes chuckled. "Very tempting, Praxis. No, I don't think I would. I'm not the same swordsman I used to be when I was younger. Don't get me wrong, I can still clobber any of the men that are currently in the Band. That's why I became the king. My predecessor wasn't so good with a sword. I liked the man a great deal and it pained me to run him through with my sword but that's the price I had to pay to become king. There is no room for friendship on the path to power."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied Praxis dryly as his eyes flickered to the blade. "So are you going to kill me?"

"It's very tempting, Praxis. Especially because of the mouth on you. But skill also recognizes skill. You held off three of my best men for several minutes before you killed one of them. Then you did it again when another man joined. You could be a great asset for the Band with your fighting prowess. Have you ever considered a career here in Arcadia? One where you can make your own fortune?"

"You mean steal from those weaker than me?" shot Praxis. "That's not exactly what I would call a career."

Archimedes chuckled again. "You can call it what you like. To you, we must seem like some band of thieves and lowlifes. To us though, we're men who make our own way in life. We take what we want, when we want it. That includes gold, possessions, and even women. Surely you've thought about that before, haven't you? A man such as yourself that has the strength to take what he needs has thought about unleashing his power. What if the only thing stopping you from your wildest dreams was that small voice inside your head?"

"That voice is called a conscience," replied Praxis. "And when it gets to talking, it usually means something is wrong."

Archimedes shook his head. "I can teach you how to ignore that voice and how to enjoy life. I've had a personal hand in crafting every man that's currently in the Band. We've taken shepherds, slaves, and orphans and we've created the most feared organization in all of western Arcadia. That didn't happen by chance, Praxis. I can do the same for you. Now, I don't know why you're in Arcadia, but I'm guessing you're running from the recent turmoil in Argos. If that's the case, you're an orphan without a city. The only thing I ask is that you take my hand and let me show you how good life can be. Just how sweet it can be when you don't live by society's rules."

Archimedes extended his hand as a physical gesture of his words. When Praxis didn't take it, Archimedes gestured in the direction of the cave.

"We regularly take new women here, Praxis. Those two that came with you are but a sampling of what you'd get with me. You'd have more pussy than you knew what to do with. Don't turn down this offer, I beg of you."

"Those two women back there?" said Praxis. "Those two are friends of mine. More than that actually. One of them means more to me than all the lives in Arcadia. What you're offering me is nothing compared to what I have with her."

Archimedes sneered. "You don't think you can find a wet hole elsewhere? Another woman to love? What's so special about her?"

"Something you would never understand," replied Praxis. "For that reason, I'm going to turn down your offer. I wouldn't make a great thief anyway."

Archimedes gave him a hollow look. "I'd urge you to reconsider my offer. The consequences of turning me down will be quite severe. Why don't you take some time to think it over?"

"I've given you my answer," replied Praxis. "It's not going to change now."

Archimedes started to shake his head. "What a shame. You had so much promise too. Most people in your position accept my offer. A second chance is better than no chance after all. And now you've forced my hand."

"In the evening, you'll be executed," continued Archimedes. "Once all my bands have come back to the hideout, I'll have you killed in front of all of them. The reason why is to make an example of you. I want them to know the penalty of what happens when you cross me. After you're dead, I'm going to pass around those two women you brought with you to all of my men. By the time the sun comes up, there won't be a hole on them that hasn't been used up and stretched out. When they have no further use to us, I'll slit their throats and dump them over the side of the mountain, where they'll join your corpse. At least then, you can be reunited with your beloved."

With those words, Archimedes snapped his finger, which led the guard that had brought Praxis over to him to grab his ropes, pulling him back to the cave. Praxis didn't put up a fight as he was led back. There was still plenty of daylight until the bands returned to the hideout, which meant enough time to think of a way out of this.

He was deposited back in the cave with Lysandra and Zenais. At this point, Zenais had woken up and was being tended to by Lysandra (at least as much as she could with her hands still bound).

"I was worried you might not come back," said Lysandra, happy to see him.

"I'm all right for now," said Praxis as he looked at Zenais. "How are you feeling?"

Zenais gave him a weak smile. "Like someone bashed a rock against my head like ten times. I have a splitting headache."

"At least you're still alive," said Praxis. "But we don't have much time. They have plans for us."

He spent the next few minutes telling them exactly what Archimedes planned to do with them. Not surprisingly, Zenais and Lysandra displayed brave faces.

"I figured that would be the case," replied Zenais, holding her chin high. "But I'm not afraid of being raped. If this is my end, well, I'll bear it with strength in my heart."

"I just never suspected we would go this way," said Lysandra quietly. "Even with what happened to us back in the village, when we faced death many times. This is really going to be our end, isn't it?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," replied Praxis. "We still have a few hours before the bands get back. And I have an idea of how we can get out of here without sacrificing everything in the process."