The Argive Ch. 091-095

"I don't think you're fooling yourself at all," replied Praxis. "Your army has a good spirit. They are a little raw in terms of actual skill but all that takes is time to learn."

"We don't have that much time," reminded Nicomedes. "I fully expect to be at war with the Spartans once Nikandros leaves Messene."

"We'll utilize all the spare time that we have," promised Praxis. "And I really think you ought to give more consideration to Asterion and his new formation."

Nicomedes waved his hand dismissively. "Horn of Hades, not you too. I already have to listen to that man badgering me about this and now you're on his side?"

"Not just on his side but a believer," replied Praxis. "I've fought against it before and I found it hard to get around it. Just today, I had men with swords trying to get past that phalanx and they were stopped in their tracks."

"It's just too rigid," said Nicomedes, shaking his head. "It will never stand up in actual battlefield conditions. You said it yourself the best--the men don't have that much skill. You expect them to stand in line and fight as one unit in front of Spartan warriors? I find that to be asking too much."

"It's your best chance at surviving that battle, whenever it comes," said Praxis quietly. "Asterion is onto something. This could be the tool that you need to win. I might even be so bold as to suggest the entire army be converted over to it."

Nicomedes looked like he was about to fall over. His eyes bulged. "The entire army? That is a bold statement, Praxis. And a ridiculous one."

"Why are you so opposed to trying something new?"

"This is not the time to try something new!" he spat. "This is about survival. I need all the men I can get my hands on, the kind of men that will fight in the traditional manner. There is nothing traditional about this spear phalanx. Spears are for throwing!"

Praxis could tell the king was getting upset. He wondered briefly if Nicomedes only showed him the spear phalanx so that Praxis could echo his own thoughts about it, thinking that it might be useless. If that was the case, then it was no surprise why he was so disappointed.

"You're looking for an advantage that can keep your city safe," argued Praxis. "This is that advantage. It won't be easy to implement and the men will resist it at first."

"No doubt about that," snapped Nicomedes.

"But it gives them the best chance at surviving," continued Praxis. "Isn't that what this is all about? Don't we want to win against Sparta?"

Nicomedes crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You ask me to do something that I don't believe in. That I think won't work. I was hoping for better advice from you, Praxis."

"Then I'm sorry to have let you down," replied Praxis quietly.

"I don't want to hear anymore about this for the time being," said Nicomedes. "I will permit Asterion to train in the way he sees fit for now, but when the time comes, he will fight individually like the rest of us. I'm not budging on that."

The words came out of Praxis' mouth before he had a chance to moderate them. "I think you're making a mistake, Nicomedes. And I think this will cost you everything."

"That will do for now, Praxis," said the king, holding up his hand. "I will see you at dinner."

His tone was harsh and unyielding, and Nicomedes soon stomped away leaving Praxis behind. Praxis knew he upset the man but he needed to say his piece. He needed Nicomedes to understand.

If he met the Spartans on the battlefield using the same old tactics, he was going to lose. And Messene would fall.

But how could he convince the king when he was being so stubborn about it?

Chapter 93: An Open Wound

Praxis was still stewing about his conversation with the king when he realized he wasn't alone. He found a young pair of green eyes watching him, and it was only a matter of moments before Phaedra joined him, a knowing look prominent on her face.

"How much of that did you hear?" asked Praxis.

Phaedra didn't hesitate. "Long enough to know what he was doing when you first arrived. I caught the entire thing."

Praxis started a slow nod of his head. "Is he always so stubborn?"

Phaedra started to laugh. "He has his moments. Can you see now why I was trying to get out of the palace when we first met?"

"I'm beginning to see why. I feel like taking an evening stroll through the bad part of the city myself."

"He'll come around eventually," replied Phaedra. "He might be stubborn and angry now but it doesn't last. It never does. He just has a hard time processing things. His first instinct is to run and then he'll deal with things later on his own terms."

"That can't make things very easy for his teenage daughter," remarked Praxis.

"No, no it doesn't. But you can say I'm used to it by now. It's the only life I've ever known."

"I can see why you were so lonely. I can also see why we were so quick to be invited to stay here."

Phaedra smiled. "It has been nice to have people around here again. Even for just the short day that it's been. And maybe that will help with his stress in the long run."

"What do you think then?" asked Praxis. "Seeing as you heard our entire conversation, did you catch the part about the spear phalanx?"

Phaedra nodded. "I've known about it for awhile. Asterion is a very vocal proponent of his new formation. Father has been equally as vocal about his opposition to it."

"I'm going to have to get him to come around on that," noted Praxis. "I've been fighting my entire life. There are many that would say I'm an elite warrior but one look at his formation tells me that it would be superior to what I've been doing. Fighting as a unit is the only way forward. I just have to make him see that."

"I'm sure he will with time," replied Phaedra. "I think he's just feeling extra anxious today. He hasn't mourned my mother in quite some time. Honestly, it's been over a year. I'm surprised that he chose to do it today of all days. Maybe his emotions are getting to him?"

"Was it like this when she died?" asked Praxis. "Was he this vulnerable?"

She nodded. "Those first few weeks were terrible. Of course, he blamed himself but there was nothing that could be done. She was just wasting away. I think her body had finally given up, even though she wasn't that old. In any event, he used to mourn her frequently until about a year ago when he abruptly stopped. I thought it meant that he'd finally gotten over it until just a few minutes ago. I suppose the wound is still raw."

"It's probably one that won't entirely go away," noted Praxis. "Especially if he loved her enough to have a child with her."

Phaedra smiled. "I tell myself that too. But there are times when I wonder if my mother was his true love. Don't get me wrong, he did love her but my mother also told me that she wasn't his first wife. That his original wife had died many years before. I have to wonder if that was his one true love. And perhaps part of him died with her?"

"This other wife, did she live here in Messene?" asked Praxis. "Your father mentioned travels in his younger days."

Phaedra started to shake her head. "I don't know. I don't know much about his life. I know what's happened since I've been alive but we're only talking about a period of fourteen years. I don't know about the places he's traveled to."

Praxis gave her a strange look. "That seems a bit strange to me. He's your father after all. You don't know how he spent the first part of his life?"

Phaedra hit his arm playfully. "It's not for a lack of trying. I've asked him before. He doesn't want to talk about it. I think that's why this woman from his past--his first wife--was his true love. Once she was gone, he didn't want to reopen the memory."

"Hmm," said Praxis, as his mind started to run wild. He was very interested in the details of Nicomedes' life, even as much as Phaedra. Some very interesting ideas assaulted his brain, some that were even too fantastical to admit aloud.

"He mentioned being in Argos before," continued Praxis. "Do you know anything about him being in Argos? He said he knew my mother and my stepfather?"

Phaedra held up her hands helplessly. "Sorry, I don't. I didn't know he had any contacts in Argos. I always chalked that up to his reputation."

"What reputation would that be?"

"The neutral king," said Phaedra with a hint of a smile. "That's how he's known around the Peloponnese."

"I have a theory that he won't be known by that for much longer," replied Praxis. "Not with war coming."

"No, you are probably right about that," said Phaedra as she started to chew her lower lip. "So this formation that you saw today, the one that Asterion talks about. You think that would give us a fighting chance against the Spartans?"

Praxis nodded. "More than that. I think it could be the very thing we need to stand up to their larger army and still win."

Phaedra looked in the direction of her father's quarters. "Then I will say something to him about it tonight as well. Maybe we can both work on him together? Burn the candle from both ends?"

Praxis grinned at her. "I'd be grateful for your help. Very grateful actually."

She matched his smile. "If it's going to help us, I'll do all that I can. Besides..."

"Besides what?"

Phaedra shrugged. "I don't know how to say this. I feel like... I want to help you. Like it's the right thing to do. Isn't that strange?"

"It's very strange," replied Praxis as he started to laugh.

She swatted him again, which only made him laugh harder.

"But would it help you if I told you I feel the same way about you? There's just something familiar about you. I can't place it either."

Phaedra shrugged. "Maybe we were related in our previous lives. Or perhaps we were married?"

Praxis chuckled. "I think you're onto something."

*****

"You are one coldhearted bastard, do you know that?"

Xanthos resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If he took it personally anytime one of his wives insulted him, he might as well spend the rest of his life as a eunuch, constantly begging for forgiveness.

Instead, he was the King of Argos. He didn't ask for forgiveness as much as he demanded submission.

"Astara, I'm getting very agitated having this conversation with you," said Xanthos with a sigh. "You forget that I'm your king!"

"And you forget that I'm your wife," she snapped. "And you are stealing from my family! From your own father!"

"Father-in-law," he corrected. "But I digress. Your father should be happy to service his king and his city. I'm only asking him to give up one of his three farms."

"His most lucrative farm!" shouted Astara. "So that you can give it to one of our family's enemies! A family that you are determined to marry into!"

That was certainly true enough. Now that Xanthos had total control over Argos, he was looking to take another wife. While he was still very satisfied with his first wife, Melitta, Astara had not been worth the time or energy. And her family wasn't nearly as powerful as Damian thought they were.

"Lucrative? That's a joke," snorted Xanthos. "Your father has paid very little in taxes since I've taken over."

"That's because his best land was razed when the Spartans invaded!" argued Astara. "His shop was trashed when the city was taken! We've taken losses that will take time to rebuild!"

"I have no use for excuses," snapped Xanthos. "The truth is that my father was wrong about you people. This other family I'm going to marry into will make my control over Argos that much stronger."

"You can't do this," she seethed. "You treat me like a second-class citizen."

"And you treat me like a second-class husband," roared Xanthos. "So why is it a surprise to you? We've been married for how long and you still won't come to my bed? And you expect me to give you preferential treatment? The street goes both ways, Astara! Maybe if you'd spread your legs, your family wouldn't be in the position that it's in!"

Xanthos wasn't even sure if she heard him because she was already storming away. Within a matter of minutes, she was gone, leaving him with only the thoughts in his head for noise.

That is, until Melitta spoke up.

"Sniveling, little brat," spat Melitta. "You never should have married her."

"It's a mistake that I'm regretting more with each passing day," noted Xanthos. "She brings nothing to my rule. Her family has become impotent. And my father used to think so much of them."

"They were useless back then too," replied Melitta. "Your father was nothing but a fool. He got the fate that he deserved."

Xanthos gave her a hollow look, which forced Melitta to shut up. Despite his father's death, he still didn't like anyone bringing it up, or the nature of how they died. It was still an open wound, even if Xanthos didn't want to admit it.

"She's lucky I'm not confiscating all of their farms," grumbled Xanthos moments later. "I could make a gift of it to my new bride's father. Such a gift would endear me to that family for a long time to come."

Melitta suddenly looked up at him. "And why can't you give them all three?"

Xanthos snorted. "Come on, Melitta. I have to keep them somewhat useful to me. I don't want to hear Astara's shrieking for the rest of my life."

"To Hades with that little bitch and her family," snapped Melitta. "You don't need them. Why not just confiscate all their possessions? If her father complains about it, then kill him. It would even give you an excellent reason to be rid of her as a wife. It's not suitable for a king to have a wife with a treasonous father who wouldn't give up his lands for the good of the city."

"That's cold, Melitta," replied Xanthos. "Though I dislike them more each day, you're asking me to kill in cold blood."

She gave him a steely glare. "I'm not asking you to do something you haven't already done in the past."

Xanthos grunted at that statement and said no more. Melitta's suggestion certainly had some merit of its own. It was cruel--there was no doubt about that--but it was strategic in a way. He would be able to rid himself of one wife, who was a wife in name only, while being able to reward a new bride while keeping her family loyal. The people wouldn't think much of it though, as they certainly liked their Queen Astara.

But then again, who cared what the people thought? As long as the Spartans controlled the city, Xanthos could behave as he pleased.

And if Astara wasn't going to perform her wifely duties, then perhaps it was time to discard her.

"You might just be onto something, Melitta," said Xanthos after a few minutes of silence. "After all, this city can't have a queen with a traitorous family."

Melitta let out an evil grin. "I thought you might see it my way."

Chapter 94: The Other Woman

The next day, Praxis pushed the men of the Messenian army as hard as he could. Their training was as intense as he could make it, with frequent runs to help rebuild their stamina as well as plenty of one-on-one sparring to focus on their skills.

For most of the day, the men rotated through different sections of his training, so that no two groups was doing the same thing at any one time but they saw all sections throughout the course of the day. By the time the sun was the highest in the sky, all of them broke for a well-deserved lunch and rest.

Praxis was surprised to find that Nicomedes had been waiting for him. The king offered him bread as they both sat down in the grass together.

"The men seem to be having a good showing out there," noted Nicomedes as he gestured to those few stragglers that were still running laps. "At least they seem to hustle a little faster now that you're in charge of their training."

Praxis grunted. "They are still out of shape but maybe a week or two from now, they'll be able to keep up with the main group. Their stamina will be the biggest determinant of their worth on the battlefield."

"We might not have two weeks," replied Nicomedes. "Nikandros arrives tomorrow with his small bodyguard. I imagine that he won't stay long, and I wouldn't put it past him to have his army already assembled back in Sparta, just waiting for his call."

"We'll do all that we can in the time provided," promised Praxis. "There's not much else we can do than that."

The king started to nod before he put his hand on Praxis' shoulder. "You are doing very well. I didn't come out here to rush you. In fact, I came out to apologize about yesterday."

Praxis raised an eyebrow. "Apologize?"

"Yes, I shouldn't have been so dismissive of you especially when it came to Asterion. As you might have already figured out, the last few weeks have been very stressful for me. This threat of Sparta has been one of the largest issues I've faced during my reign."

"I understand, and your apology has been accepted," said Praxis with a wry smile. "I try not to take things like that personal, because I know the pressure that's on your shoulders. Plus Phaedra was a big help too in helping me vent."

Nicomedes started to laugh. "Phaedra. I figured you spoke with her. When we were eating breakfast this morning, she started talking about Asterion and his formation. I'm assuming that came from you?"

Praxis couldn't contain his grin any further. He shrugged playfully. "It might have come up when we talked."

"Horn of Hades, what am I going to do with you," said Nicomedes, shaking his head. "It seems you two are determined to beat my head in with this spear phalanx talk."

"I wouldn't go to such lengths if I didn't think it prudent," replied Praxis. "What I've seen from Asterion only impresses me."

Nicomedes let out a deep sigh. "I feel like it's a mistake. That if we split our focus between the two competing styles, it will hasten our downfall. But I'm not immune to influence either. I will allow it to continue as well as let Asterion call for volunteers. I just wish I knew whether it would do any good."

"Thank you," said Praxis quite genuinely. "It makes more of a difference than you know. I'm planning to spend a good portion of my afternoon with them. I don't know if I can make you a believer, but I'm certainly going to try."

Nicomedes let out a barking laugh. "Good luck with that!"

After having secured Nicomedes' support (even if temporarily), Praxis threw himself into training with Asterion for that afternoon. They were able to pull in another hundred men so that the spear phalanx was able to greatly expand.

Frankly, the more Praxis saw of it, the more it impressed him. Especially when the men started to move together, forgetting their places as individuals and acting like a more cohesive group.

By the time the sun was going down, Praxis was exhausted but satisfied. All the men in the Messenian army were showing promise, and he anticipated that Messenia would give the best showing of any of the cities attacked by the Spartans.

He just didn't know if that showing would be enough to maintain their independence.

Praxis arrived back at the rooms he shared with Lysandra and Zenais that evening, fully intending to eat and then go to bed early. He liked the rooms he'd been given so far, which were a total upgrade from the accommodations they had when they first came to the city. The women seemed to be happier as well, but he saw just how happy he was when he entered their bedroom.

Both Lysandra and Zenais were waiting for him on their bed. Neither had so much as a stitch of clothing on them. Praxis took a moment to drink in the sight of their bodies and the differences between them. Zenais had the kind of curves that could make any man turn his head. Her breasts were larger but under her curves were muscles born out of many years of weapons training.

Lysandra was different on the other hand. She was leaner but softer, a woman with a dancer's body and a mischievous grin that made Praxis hard every time he saw her.