The Argive Ch. 076-080

Archimedes was largely impotent in defending the blows that came his way. The wound on his side slowed him greatly, until Praxis was able to knock his sword away, letting it clang against the ground.

That end had come for Archimedes. His eyes looked fearful for the first time that evening, and yet, there was still some acceptance in his gaze.

"Do it," said Archimedes, still clutching his side. "Claim your throne. If you're strong enough."

Archimedes stuck out his chest, exposing himself completely. In any other situation, Praxis might have spared him. He might have let him live for the honorable defeat. But any situation where Archimedes didn't die meant danger for Lysandra and Zenais, and that was one outcome he just couldn't accept.

Praxis pulled his sword all the way back and lunged forward, driving it deep in the chest of the king.

One single strand of blood erupted from the king's mouth. His eyes went glassy and he struggled to breath, even more so than when he was winded. All around them, the rest of the Band was deadly silent, the only noise the gargling of blood coming from the king.

Finally, Archimedes fell to his side, completely lifeless.

As Praxis pulled his blood-splattered blade free from his body, he looked around. Once again, no one seemed to know what to make of it. Even those that seemed to silently encourage him to win were shocked, their mouths hanging open in the same manner as their dead king.

Finally, a lesser man spoke up. Praxis recognized him as one the bandits that had originally captured Lysandra. If he remembered correctly, the man's name was Phemius.

"He killed our king," sputtered Phemius. "He killed Archimedes! Are we just going to let him kill our king? Are we just going to let this happen?"

There was some chatter amongst the Band, mostly from those that seemed to agree with Phemius, such as Ismenios.

"A great question, Phemius," replied Ismenios, stepping forward. "This changes nothing. This man is still our prisoner, and those two women in the cave have been promised to us. All we need to do now is elect a new king."

The Band seemed to be deeply divided about Ismenios' suggestion. They started to argue amongst themselves until the one man with the shaved head stepped forward. Everyone instantly fell silent, showing his status within the group.

"The course forward is very clear to me," said the man, pointing at Praxis. "He defeated Archimedes. By our own rules, he's now the king."

It became obvious very quickly that most of the Band respected this man's opinion. All but the small group around Ismenios and Phemius readily agreed, many of them nodding out of respect to Praxis.

Finally, it couldn't be denied that the will of the Band had spoken. Led by the man with the shaved head, the Band fell to their knees before Praxis.

"All hail King Praxis, leader of the King's Band!"

Chapter 78: The Fruits of Victory

Praxis could still hardly believe it.

As many as thirty men stood before him, and all of them were on their knees hailing him as king.

His enemy, the former king Archimedes, laid at his feet, no longer alive.

By the rules of the King's Band, he was now their leader, and just like that, everything changed.

The news took a few hours to digest. That evening, Praxis was sitting around a fire with Lysandra and Zenais. They'd left their cave accommodations behind, opting for a portion of the plateau that was raised above the rest of it, giving them a commanding view of the valley in front of them. It was where Praxis had first met Archimedes and he'd wasted no time in taking it for himself.

Even if his status on the plateau had changed, most were still getting used to it.

"It still makes me uneasy," said Lysandra, looking around the campsite. "Especially knowing that all of these men would easily make me a prisoner again if something happened to Praxis."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around that as well," admitted Zenais. "And a lot of that has to do with figuring out just how in Hades that plan Praxis put together actually worked."

Praxis broke out into a smile. "I think the plan worked pretty well."

"Your plan was the height of stupidity and yet it still panned out," said Zenais, giving him a knowing look. "But I still can't tell if it's just sheer luck or if you really do have Athena looking out for you."

"Maybe a little bit of both?" replied Lysandra. "It's been like this ever since I met him. He should have been dead half a dozen times by now but he's clearly favored by somebody."

"I get the impression you two would be more satisfied if I'd died in the process," teased Praxis, nursing his wounded pride.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Lysandra as she reached over to rub his back. "We're still here, right? Plan or not, this is a much better outcome for everyone."

"And you're actually the king now," purred Zenais. "King Praxis has a nice ring to it."

Lysandra batted her eyelashes at him. "Do I get to be your queen, my king?"

"You always were my queen, even before this," replied Praxis.

"Great answer!" replied Lysandra as she grinned. She then turned to look at Zenais. "Do you see why I keep him around? He's just so cute."

Judging by the expression on Zenais' face, she did understand. Praxis saw something there that looked a bit like longing. He wondered if it was triggered by the warm relationship he had with Lysandra. Was Zenais jealous of not having one of her own?

If it truly bothered her, she didn't speak anything out loud. With the exhaustion of the day, Zenais was soon asleep, leaving just Praxis and Lysandra to tend the fire. Though Praxis was starting to like Zenais, he welcomed any alone time he could get with Lysandra, especially after what happened.

The redhead must have had the same idea. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. Lysandra sighed with content.

"I can hear your heart beating," she whispered after a few moments. "There were so many times when I thought I might never hear it again."

"What does it sound like? Is it beating fast?"

Lysandra giggled. "It's beating fast now. Do I make you nervous or something?"

Praxis started to rub her exposed thigh. "You make mesomething all right. I don't know if nervous would be the right word."

"Oh?" Lysandra reached under his chiton and wrapped her hand around his cock. "There he is. I missed him too. It seems like he's also missing me."

"Should I order the Band to leave the plateau for the night?" joked Praxis. "So we can get some privacy?"

He was only half-serious about the request but Lysandra took it more seriously. She looked out on the men and then back at him. "What are you going to do about this group, Praxis? You're their king but do you really want to be known as the king of thieves? Of this group?"

It was a valid question. Praxis looked out over the men as well, having different thoughts based upon who he looked at. Most of the men seemed willing to accept his kingship. They even placed guards around his section of the plateau to protect him, just like they would have for Archimedes. Their fealty seemed sincere but there were a few, like Ismenios and his group, that looked to still be dangerous. Praxis wasn't about to turn his back to any of them just yet, least of all Ismenios.

"I didn't really set out to be the king of thieves when we left Argos," said Praxis moments later. "I'd say that's probably the last thing I thought would happen. And it doesn't change anything either."

"It doesn't?" she asked. "Are we still going to Messenia?"

Praxis nodded. "Of course. I just need to figure out what to do with the Band in the process."

"You could always just disband them. Tell them that they can go home and that we don't need them anymore. The Band would go away and wouldn't have the need for a king."

Praxis started to shake his head. "I don't know if it would be that simple. These are desperate men. Not the best kind. I don't think they have anything to go home to. This is all they know, and if the Band didn't exist anymore, I'm not sure that would stop them from just forming another Band and continuing on their way. I just don't expect it to be that simple."

Lysandra pursed her lips. "Maybe you're right. Then what can we do?"

"I'm not sure yet," admitted Praxis. "I just don't know."

They spent a few more minutes holding each other in privacy before a visitor arrived for Praxis. It was a man that was familiar to him, the grizzled veteran with the shaved head. He was the same man that made possible Praxis' fight with Archimedes, and seeing as he looked to be a potential friend, Praxis agreed to meet with him while Lysandra got some rest.

"My king, my name is Mikon," he said, bowing his head in acknowledgment of Praxis' newfound status.

"I remember you," said Praxis. "You were the one that spoke up to Archimedes. You made it possible for me to fight him."

Mikon nodded. "That I did."

"Why?" asked Praxis. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that you did but it was your response that really changed the tide of it. I don't think it would have happened without you so why did you speak up?"

Mikon took a deep breath. "Because I've been at odds with Archimedes for a long time. Years even. We never got along well, you could say. Archimedes always thought I desired his position."

"And did you? Do you want to be king?"

Mikon actually smiled. "There aren't many days that go by when I don't think about what it would be like. I'm still human, my king. Of course I think about power but I didn't think about it enough to challenge Archimedes. At least, not as much as he suspected."

"So let me guess," said Praxis. "Archimedes saw you as a rival for his position so he kept you at arm's length constantly? Never letting you get too close to the throne. Always reminding you who was in charge?"

Mikon started to chuckle. "You're picking up the ways of kingship remarkably fast."

"It's not that," replied Praxis. "It's just that I've been in your position for most of my life. I know very well how that feels."

"As you can imagine, it doesn't foster the best of relations," continued Mikon. "But to answer your question as to whether I want your throne, the answer is no. At the end of the day, I'm just a thief. It's all I know. I'm not going to pretend to be a noble thief either. I don't steal because I'd go hungry. I steal because I've done it for my entire life. It's as part of me as my own arms."

"That's an interesting way to look at things," said Praxis. "Are the rest of your men like you?"

Mikon scoffed. "My men? Most in my band look at things the same way I do. Most of the entire Band do as well. There are only a few troublemakers that could upset the peace here, which is partly the reason why I'm here tonight. There are some things you should be aware of, or rather, some people you should be aware of."

"Like who?" asked Praxis.

"Like Ismenios," replied Mikon. "He is the biggest threat to you here, above all else."

"I remember Ismenios," said Praxis, his eyes naturally finding the man on the other side of the plateau. Ismenios and his band were sitting next to their own fire. They were discussing... something but the distance was too great for Praxis to tell.

"Ismenios has his eye on the throne," warned Mikon. "He was just never strong enough to take on Archimedes by himself. Because of that, he was content to wait until something happened to Archimedes, and now it has. And he's made no secret that he thinks you're weak. I heard those very words come out of his mouth not much more than a half hour ago."

"Even for someone who killed the king he feared so much?" asked Praxis, raising an eyebrow.

Mikon nodded. "Apparently, he remembers his first encounter with you, when you were knocked out and your woman was captured. He thinks challenging you will be as simple as repeating that first meeting."

Praxis thought about it for a moment before he gave Mikon a shrewd look. "What you're telling me about Ismenios is believable but why are you telling me? What do you get from letting me know about that man?"

Mikon shrugged. "We're not all heartless bastards here. Just because we're thieves doesn't mean that we don't feel or think of others. We do what we have to in order to survive but I don't know if I could rest easy tonight without letting you know a challenge was coming. It might not be tonight or tomorrow, but Ismenios is going to challenge you for this throne. I've known him long enough that I can feel it."

"Well, I appreciate that," replied Praxis, which caused Mikon to nod. "Mikon, let me ask you something before you go. Without the Band, what would you do? You tell me thieving is all you know. Could you ever live a life where the Band didn't exist?"

"That's a heavy question," replied Mikon after a moment's thought. "I don't know if I could give you an answer tonight."

"I don't want an answer tonight," said Praxis. "But let me know when you can give me one. I'm not planning to be the king here forever, but I'm also not planning on dying anytime soon. I'd want to know before I left that the Band wasn't still here causing trouble after I left."

"I think some of us are bound to cause trouble for the rest of our lives," said Mikon with a chuckle. "Although in varying degrees of trouble."

Praxis grinned. "No doubt about that. Thank you for your warning tonight, Mikon. I'd like to talk more in the morning after I've gotten some sleep."

Mikon nodded his head. "Sleep well, my king."

*****

As it turned out, Mikon's words turned out to be very prophetic. The next morning, Praxis could feel a difference in how Ismenios, Phemius, and the rest of their individual band treated him. They walked around with barely-constrained disdain, as if they were just biding their time until there was a new change in leadership. At least on the plateau they had to be somewhat careful about their plans but once the bands left for the day, Praxis had no doubt they would have more time to scheme.

It almost made him leave with Lysandra and Zenais before the bands could return for the day but he nixed that idea quickly. There wasn't any place in this part of Arcadia that the Band couldn't catch up to them quickly, putting them back in the same position they were before.

Praxis felt very stuck until the bands returned that evening. But it wasn't long after they returned that Ismenios made his move.

He waited until after they all ate something before grabbing his sword and shield and marching over to Praxis' area. The entire Band watched him walk over, until he stopped directly in front of Praxis.

"I challenge you," barked Ismenios. "For the leadership of the Band!"

Chapter 79: Homesick

Cypselus was late.

It was already early evening and he still hadn't made it back to the house. Just outside the door, Agemon waited for his king to arrive, and he wondered what made him so delayed tonight.

King. That word ceased to have much of a meaning these days. In Corinth, Cypselus was their leader but here in Athens, he was a nobody, like the rest of them. The difference was that Cypselus seemed to have accepted his fate as a nobody in Athens. He quickly found work as a trader's assistant, moving goods to and from the market for sale.

It was a humbling position for someone who'd risen so high.

And yet, Cypselus didn't appear to mind. The money he made from the job paid for their housing and food. Agemon thought that a few days as a mere trader's assistant would have Cypselus longing for a return to power but quite the opposite happened.

He actually appeared happier in a lesser role.

In the last couple weeks, Cypselus hadn't mentioned Corinth once. There was no talk of returning home or overthrowing the Spartans.

It was like the older man had accepted his fate, judging that he'd never return to the city he once ruled.

For Agemon, this was something he could never admit. While Athens was a nice city, Corinth was his home. He wanted to go back to his home, but he wanted to do it in the right way.

By ejecting the Spartans and reclaiming their former glory.

But why did it feel like the king couldn't care less about it?

Nearly an hour later, Cypselus finally appeared. He was humming to himself as he walked home, his chiton stained with some kind brownish color. He stopped when he saw Agemon, waving to his friend like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Long day, Agemon! I'm utterly exhausted and could do with a bite to eat. Do we have any fresh bread left in the house?"

"There's plenty on the table inside," answered Agemon.

"Stay there then. I will grab some and bring it outside with us!"

Cypselus reappeared moments later after grabbing a loaf of bread. He split it and handed the other piece to Agemon before sitting down. The two men ate in silence as they watched the street in front of them, where several children were racing back and forth.

"Your mind seems heavy tonight, Agemon," said Cypselus finally. "You're usually more cheerful than this. What happened since this morning? Something with Cora?"

Agemon shook his head. "No, Cora is fine. We're both fine to be honest. She's an incredible woman."

Cypselus grinned. "That she is. I'm happy for you, old friend. I'm glad that you finally found someone that can share in your happiness."

That was definitely true, and ever since that first night when they'd made love, Agemon's relationship with Cora continued to blossom. There were some times when he could hardly believe she was his, when she was laying in their bed and sleeping softly. So many nights had passed alone, when he would have given anything to have her in his arms.

And now she was finally there. And he didn't intend to let her go.

"So if it's not Cora, then what is it?" asked Cypselus. "I'm not going to let you go until you tell me what's on your mind."

Agemon struggled for a moment to find the right words. Finally, he came out with it. "It's Corinth."

The smile disappeared from Cypselus' face at the mention of the city. "Corinth? What of Corinth?"

Agemon let out an exasperated sigh. "I miss our home. I miss it, Cypselus. Athens is... fine, but it's no Corinth. And let us be honest--the Athenians are an odd people to say the least."

Cypselus started to laugh. "You're not wrong about that. They are very stuffy and pretentious, I find. Nothing like the people back in Corinth."

"Which is another reason why I want to go back," said Agemon, looking the other man in the eyes. "But not under Spartan domination. Under yours."

Cypselus shook his head. "That's not going to happen anytime soon, Agemon. You know that."

"But why? Why can't we start making plans for our return?"

"Our return?" Cypselus scoffed. "There's not going to be a return. We don't have the resources or manpower to stand up against the Spartans. Look what happened the last time we did--we got kicked out of our own city, and that was even with our control of an army. We have no army here in Athens."

"No, but we could," replied Agemon. "We still have some semblance of a treasury, don't we?"

Cypselus didn't reply to that directly. The truth was that the king had managed to take a good portion of the city's treasury with them before the city fell. It was a fortune for any one man or any one family, but as far as a city went, it would only last a couple weeks before being completely depleted. And still, it was something powerful that a new army could be built around--an army of mercenaries.

"The treasury wouldn't get us very far," replied Cypselus finally. "It would be a waste of money."

"And so you're just going to continue to sit on it?" asked Agemon. "Why not use it for our plans? Why not put it to purpose instead of letting it gather dust?"

"Enough," barked Cypselus. "As I've told you already, it's not going to get us very far. How many mercenaries would it hire? Two hundred? For a month? We can't take Corinth with those numbers."