The Argive Ch. 091-095

This time was no different.

"What a sight to come home to," said Praxis as he managed to tear his eyes away from their supple bodies and make eye contact. "I could really get used to this."

Zenais could only laugh but it was Lysandra who replied. "Take your armor and chiton off and do it quickly. We've been waiting for you all day long."

They didn't need to tell him twice. Praxis undressed quickly, fumbling with his armor as he temporarily forgot how tired he was. The girls laughed when they saw him hobble over to the bed, jumping over his cuirass as he fell against the mattress.

"Someone's eager tonight," said Zenais.

"You try spending all day around sweaty and smelly men," replied Praxis.

Zenais' eyes lit up. "Now that sounds like a lot of fun."

Lysandra swatted Zenais. "Behave yourself. We already have a man and he's right here waiting for us. And ready for us too."

To emphasize her point, Lysandra started to stroke his rapidly-hardening cock. It didn't take her long before she grabbed a dollop of saliva from her mouth and dripped it over the tip.

"I was just teasing," noted Zenais as her hand went to the rest of his shaft. "I wondered if Praxis had a jealous streak in him."

"What do you want to hear?" growled Praxis as they stroked him. "That you both belong to me and no one else? That you're my women?"

Zenais purred. "Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"Yeah, that really gets me going," added Lysandra, opening her legs to show the evidence. She was slick with arousal already, and Praxis wasted no time in mounting her.

About an hour and five orgasms later, all three of them fell to the bed, completely and utterly spent.

"Always so good," muttered Lysandra as she lightly pinched her nipple. "Blessed Demeter, why does it have to be so good?"

Zenais giggled from beside Praxis. Her fingers were currently deep in her pussy as she dug out the remains of his cum and brought them to her lips. "I never knew sex with a man could be so good. It's almost like my soul leaves my body when I orgasm. I've never experienced that before."

"Happy to be of service," joked Praxis, causing the two girls to laugh.

"I bet you are," muttered Lysandra and she curled against his side. Her eyelids were already closed and judging by the size of her orgasms, she wasn't going to be awake for much longer. Sure enough, her breathing deepened moments later.

Praxis would have been happy with just Lysandra pressed against his side but Zenais repeated the motion on his other side. She was still wide awake though, her honey-brown eyes studying him very intensely for several moments.

"You look like you don't know whether to kill me or kiss me," teased Praxis.

Zenais giggled and laid her head against his chest. Her hand went to his spent manhood and she began to play with it idly. "Sometimes, I ask myself that same question. What to do about you, Praxis."

"If you're going to kill me, I'd ask that you take your hand off my cock," he shot. "That would be a terrible way to go."

She continued laughing. "I don't intend to do that, even if you've turned my world upside down. Before I met you and Lysandra, I was carefree, not having any concern in the world. I went where I wanted when I wanted. And I was absolutely certain that I wasn't into men."

"I'm sorry to mess things up for you so badly."

She shook her head. "You didn't though. You improved them. You both did. You've made me question so many things about my life but I like where I am right now. I like where we are together."

"And you most certainly like men now."

Zenais pumped him a little faster. "Oh, yes. I don't know how I could go without it. You better hope you don't die anytime soon. I don't know what I would do without you inside me every night."

Praxis pulled her closer. "I don't intend on doing that until I'm a lot older. You're going to have so much of me that you're going to be sick of my touch."

Zenais snorted. "Fat chance of that. I really like being around you both. And I like what we've become. In a way, I love you, Praxis. Just the same way that I love Lysandra."

He locked eyes with her. "You love me?"

Zenais started to turn red. "Too early to admit that to you? Are you surprised?"

"Yes, but in a good way. I'm happy that you do. The truth is that I've developed some feelings for you as well. Some very strong feelings."

"But not love yet?" asked Zenais. "It's okay if you're not there yet. I just want to know that you're on the same path as me. Maybe I just got to the destination a little quicker than you did."

Praxis smiled and then kissed her. "I think we're on the same path. I'm not worried about it. It will happen in time, I promise you that."

Zenais let out a content sigh. "I'm glad to hear that. A part of me was still worried that you might only be able to love Lysandra. That I was fooling myself and I'll only ever be the other woman to you. I've tried not to listen to that voice but I can't help but hear it in the back of my head."

"Well, don't listen to it," teased Praxis. "Your voice is wrong. I feel very strongly about you. And I know I'll get there."

Zenais started to giggle. "The sixteen-year-old me would be so upset right now. Especially at needing another man's validation so much."

"What does the today you think?" teased Praxis. "She's happy, right?"

Zenais nodded her head and kissed him. "She's very happy. Happier than she thought she could ever be."

"Well, that's good enough for me then."

Chapter 95: Sparta Arrives

The following morning, the entire city of Messene was tense as word was received of the approach of the Spartan king and his delegation. Praxis could feel it as he looked out on the city that morning from the palace, and he could even feel it from inside as well. There was a certain sense of dread, as if all of Messenia could put off their fate no longer.

Praxis got dressed early, planning to spend the entire morning with Nicomedes as he deliberated with the Spartan king. He wasn't the only one that was moving early though, as he soon found Zenais in full armor as she practiced her moves in the central courtyard. Praxis found it interesting that the buxom blonde was practicing with a spear that morning instead of a sword. Surely that couldn't have been a coincidence?

"I see you've changed your weapon," noted Praxis as he leaned against the column. "What made you put the sword away today?"

Zenais made a hard thrust with her spear before yanking it back. "I thought that might be obvious. Do you want to take a guess?"

"I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is," replied Praxis as he pursed his lips.

Zenais stopped practicing and looked at him. "Why not? If the city is under attack, I want to fight too. I'm just as trained, if not more so, than most of those men out there."

"It will be dangerous, Zenais," he argued. "And I'm not even sure if Nicomedes would let you fight. He's a very traditional man, and I doubt he would think much of having a woman on the battlefield."

"But you got your way with the spear phalanx," she replied. "Maybe you can get your way with this too?"

Praxis grumbled under his breath. He almost regretted telling them about Asterion and his formation, as well as the king's initial reluctance.

Especially if it was going to be used against him.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked. "I know I can't stop you if you really want this but this will be a formal battle when that day comes, Zenais. Everything will be different from what you're used to."

Zenais raised her chin with pride. "I can fight, Praxis. It's what I was born to do."

Praxis nodded, not having expected anything different. "I'll talk with Nicomedes then. At least in your helmet, no one will be able to tell you're a woman."

Zenais smiled and grabbed her chest. "At least until they get a look at these. Lucky for you, you're the only man that gets to touch them."

Praxis could only shake his head and laugh as he left her to train. Talking Nicomedes into allowing Zenais to fight would be a tall order indeed. He was still thinking about the best way to go about it when he came into the king's main reception hall, finding Nicomedes pacing around the room.

"There you are, I was just about to send someone to find you," said Nicomedes. "The Spartans are just outside the room!"

"Then let's not keep them waiting," replied Praxis.

With those words, Nicomedes gave the order to let them in. The doors opened and several tall, Spartan warriors entered, their red cloaks gently swaying as they walked. Praxis stared at them grimly, remembering the fighting that occurred whenever they took Argos. It was a fight he wasn't soon to forget, and he found his rage stirring just beneath the surface as he took in their appearance.

The Spartans soon parted to allow their king to enter the room. Nikandros of Sparta was brimming with arrogance as he strode across the room, his chin held high and his eyes full of disdain. His statue was imposing, with his broad shoulders and long beard but his haughtiness worked against him. He seemed like a child that had always gotten his way and that cheapened Praxis' view of the Spartan king.

Before this whole thing was over, he was determined to show Nikandros that he couldn't always get what he wanted.

"Nikandros of Sparta, welcome to Messene," said Nicomedes in a dull, uninterested tone. "What brings you to my city?"

Nikandros scoffed. "Why does it feel like someone died in here? Every face that I look at is filled with sorrow... or fear. There's a storm cloud over your entire city, Nicomedes."

"We have good reason to have one," replied Nicomedes. "The entire Peloponnese is on edge. This constant fighting has raised tensions to an unacceptable limit."

Nikandros looked around the room like he was looking for a toy. "Tension? War? Perhaps you have a different source of news than I do. I hear no mumbling of war."

"Perhaps you ought to ask the people of Argos or Corinth," said Praxis from the king's side. "I'm sure they could tell you all about it."

Nikandros studied Praxis' face for several moments before he turned toward Nicomedes. "Who is this man? Why does he insult me like he does?"

"This is Praxis of Argos," replied Nicomedes. "Perhaps you remember his brother, the man who now controls the city for you."

Nikandros made a knowing face as he turned to smirk at Praxis. "Oh, so you're Xanthos' brother, are you?"

"Stepbrother," corrected Praxis. "How is he by the way? Still groveling at your feet for any scraps of food to fall off your table?"

"At least he knows his place," snapped Nikandros. "Xanthos knew that Argos was a weak power, too anemic to stand on its own. Now they've taken their rightful place under the shelter of one far stronger."

"Just like you did in Corinth too?" shot Praxis. "And the rest of the Peloponnese?"

Nikandros sneered and shook his head. He turned to look back at Nicomedes. "You keep ill-advised company, Nicomedes. Now I see why there's a storm cloud over your city."

"Praxis brings up many good points," said Nicomedes coolly. "And I wonder why I find you here of all places. You've been content to send envoys before. Why the sudden interest in visiting Messene in person?"

"Because I believe that careful diplomacy must be practiced in delicate situations," replied Nikandros. "Especially this one. You're the only major city still outside my Peloponnesian League. Why haven't you joined us yet?"

"Messenia is a neutral power," answered Nicomedes. "Did you come all the way here just to hear me say it?"

"For the safety and security of our future, we must unite the Peloponnese under one leader," continued Nikandros. "There are too many threats in the world. Rumors stirring from Asia. Barbarian tribes from the north. Invaders from the sea. The world is a very uncertain place."

"And yet, the only person bringing trouble to my doorstep is you," shot Nicomedes. "You know we won't join your alliance. You wasted your time coming here."

Nikandros smirked at him. "You would be wise to rethink your position. Being a neutral power means that you don't have the luxury of friends." Nikandros shot a glance at Praxis. "At least friends with a semblance of an army."

"Is what you have so far not enough for you?" asked Nicomedes. "Why must you have Messenia as well?"

Nikandros scoffed. "I won't rest until I've completed the task in front of me, which is to unite the entire Peloponnese under Spartan leadership. I'm so very close to completing my goal, Nicomedes. Can you imagine how powerful we would be with a united Peloponnese? There would be no foe out there that could take us down."

"You have a lot of balls to talk about uniting the Peloponnese," said Praxis. "Especially for someone who has so much blood on his hands. You would kill these people under the misguided ideal of protecting them."

"I'd never expect a third-rate stepson to understand my vision," snapped Nikandros before the Spartan king looked back at Nicomedes. "His presence here offends me. Remove him from my sight, Nicomedes."

"I will do no such thing," said the Messenian king, crossing his arms. "Praxis has a habit of saying what I'm thinking. I happen to agree with him."

"Then you will give your people war?" asked Nikandros. "I came here to find out if you would submit to me willingly. It's the only way you can maintain peace for Messenia. Will you give them war then?"

"You're not here to offer me peace," replied Nicomedes coolly. "You're here to offer us a collar. You would have us be slaves to your whim under the guise of freedom."

"Call it what you must," said Nikandros. "But you and I both know that you cannot stand alone against the might of Sparta. I'm giving you a way out. A path of honor. Submit to my rule and not one drop of Messenian blood will be shed. Think about what your people would say. Think about how frightened they are right now. You will have given them a bloodless coup. You'll stay the king of Messenia. And you will have a new power in your own right--the power to call me friend. All I ask is that you submit. Submit to Sparta and put this foolishness behind you."

To Praxis' horror, it almost looked like Nicomedes was considering it. The older man seemed to be going back and forth in his mind, as if he was weighing his options. His uncertainty only fed Nikandros' ego, and the Spartan king stepped closer as if his physical presence could only influence the situation for the better.

"Do the right thing, Nicomedes," whispered Nikandros. "You know which course in front of you is the right one."

Nicomedes nodded and gave a look of sympathy to Praxis. "He's right, Praxis. We do know which course is the right one."

Nikandros smirked triumphantly, thinking he was about to get what he wanted.

That made what happened next all the more sweeter.

"I spit on your offer of friendship," said Nicomedes proudly. "Your offer only comes at the end of a sword. The people of Messenia won't be cowed so easily. We will not enter the Peloponnesian League, and we will fight vigorously to maintain our independence."

The smirk that was just present on the Spartan king's face morphed into a disdainful sneer.

"You have chosen war then," replied Nikandros, taking several steps back. "It is the last foolish decision that you will ever make, Nicomedes. Your people will be punished and Messene will burn."

"Get out of my city," barked Nicomedes. "There are no slaves to be purchased here."

"No, maybe not yet," vowed Nikandros. "But slaves you will be one way or another."

With those words, Nikandros of Sparta snapped his fingers and his soldiers quickly followed him, exiting from the palace. They didn't linger in the city, and a report soon came in that they had already exited the main gate to go back to Sparta.

For all his bluster though, Nicomedes was a different man once the Spartan king had left the room. Shock registered on his face, followed quickly by disbelief. He looked at Praxis with a profound sense of dread.

"It's really going to happen now," whispered Nicomedes. "War is a certainty. He will go back to Sparta and lead his army to our very gates."

"It was always fated to be that way," replied Praxis, putting his hand on the king's shoulder. "The Spartans didn't come here to truly negotiate. They came here to demand. No matter what you did, you would have never satisfied them. War was the only way."

"War," said Nicomedes quietly. "It's finally found me."

The king didn't say anything further for several moments, which made Praxis doubt whether Nicomedes was truly ready for such a conflict, or whether he was regretting his decision. A range of emotions passed his face, and none of them looked promising.

Finally, Praxis forced the king to look at him. "Nicomedes, we must prepare ourselves. The Spartans are going to throw everything they have at us. We must step up our training. We have to win."

Nicomedes' eyes seemed to settle on Praxis' face. He studied it for several moments before a hardy look appeared. "Yes, we will be ready. Messenia will not cower to those bastards. We will win... or we will die."

In the end, those were the only two options they really had.