The Argive Ch. 101-105

The Argive -- Chapters 101-105

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Chapter 101: The Past, Revisited

Praxis was still stunned.

No matter how many times he opened his mouth to reply, he couldn't get the words to form. There were too many emotions swirling around his brain, and he felt them all equally.

Relief was there--relief at finally finding his father.

Sorrow was there too--sorrow at having missed out on so many years with the man that sired him.

Most importantly, anger was there as well--anger at the desertion of his own family.

For his part, Nicomedes wasn't in a rush to explain himself. He simply looked at the stone by his feet, going over the names of family members long since passed. He gave Praxis the occasional glance until Praxis was finally able to form a response.

"Why?" asked Praxis. "Why tell me now of all times?"

"You'd already pieced it together," replied the king. "I knew when we talked last night that you'd figured it out. I didn't know what to do or how to answer you but I knew it was only a matter of time. And time is the one thing we don't have the luxury of right now. Quite honestly, I thought one look at Phaedra might do it. You two look remarkably similar, but then again, she is your sister."

"Half-sister," corrected Praxis as he felt the rage building inside him. "Because you left us. You abandoned your family. Your wife and your young son. Part of me wants to hate you for this. I still don't know how to respond but you owe it to me to tell me the truth. Tell me the story. Tell me what happened with my mother."

Nicomedes let out a deep sigh and moved away from the stone. He sat down on the stump of a tree that had been long since felled. "I haven't told that story to anyone. Not since the day it happened. I meant it when I said this it's my biggest shame. Though I haven't told anyone, there hasn't been a day since it happened when I haven't thought about it. And it's been on my mind frequently since you showed up here in Messene."

"What gave it away?" asked Praxis.

"Your face," replied Nicomedes. "As soon as I saw your face, I knew. Hearing your name was the only confirmation I needed. But it was your face. Though you share plenty of my features with Phaedra, it's not hard to tell that you're Doris' son. I can still remember the first time I saw her eyes."

"It all began when I wasn't much older than you are right now," continued Nicomedes. "I grew up here, on this very farm. Our family wasn't powerful. Quite the opposite, we were only simple farmers. Your grandfather owned several small plots leading up to the city but it wasn't enough for us to consider ourselves part of the elite. When I was your age, the only thing I had was weathered hands from working the field and a sword."

A small smile filled Nicomedes face. "But I was pretty good with that sword. Not quite as good as you are now but I was quick and agile. I could hold my own with warriors twice my age and still win. You can say that it bred a certain level of confidence. I knew I was good and I only wanted to test my limits--the same thing all young men go through I supposed. And the last thing I wanted was a life of obscurity on some remote farm."

"So I left. With only my sword and a few days of supplies, I left Messene and moved north, not stopping until I reached the banks of the sea in Achaea. I'd proved my prowess over and over again. Bandits in Greece are not a recent phenomena. Even back then, there were always those out there seeking to steal from the weak. I killed my fair share and even got the attention of a local king. Meton was the ruler of a small city by the sea, and he'd been impressed with my fighting skills. He brought me on as a bodyguard, which I did for two years before I moved on."

"Why did you move on?" asked Praxis.

"Truthfully? I was tired of being a bodyguard," answered Nicomedes. "I saw what Meton had and I wanted it. I wanted to be a king and rule over my own city. You can say that it was jealousy that finally spurred me to action, as well as a rumor from the south. A rumor that the king of Argos was about to pass away without an heir."

"So I bid my goodbyes to Meton and headed south to Argos," said Nicomedes. "And it was there that I met old King Talaus."

"Talaus, I've heard that name before," said Praxis. "I remember my mother telling me about him. He ruled before you did?"

Nicomedes nodded. "Did your mother also tell you that he was her uncle? Talaus never had children but he had a niece in Doris. He cherished her as his own but women couldn't be the true rulers of a city. He needed a male heir and he hoped to give it to the city before he died. He held a competition and invited all the noblest of warriors from all over Greece to participate. In trials of strength, cunning, and intelligence, he vowed to pick the best man to lead Argos after he died."

"You went through these trials?" asked Praxis. "How many men did you have to go against?"

"There were ten of us in total," replied the king. "Three of them died in various trials, some of which were quite dangerous. In the end, it came down to myself and one other man. The final trial was about combat. One at a time, we were pitted against all the remaining survivors in individual combat. After so many years of fighting and experience as a bodyguard in a rowdy kingdom like Meton had, I was able to best my rival. Talaus himself raised my hand and announced to all of Argos that I was his heir, but as kind as that was, it was what he did for me next that really earned my appreciation."

"What was that?"

Nicomedes smiled sadly. "He introduced me to Doris. It was the night after I'd been declared heir apparent. We had a large dinner with Talaus, his friends, and his remaining family. I still remember what your mother looked like when she appeared, and when she put those beautiful green eyes on me. There wasn't a more attractive woman in all of Argos. And from that moment, there was a spark between us. A spark that continued to be nurtured."

"Talaus, of course, was ecstatic about our relationship. He saw it as his heir marrying into his family, providing a continuity that he couldn't give it on his own. I think that was when he finally decided that he could pass without any trouble. He'd done his duty to Argos by leaving it in the hands of stable leadership. It wasn't two weeks later that he was dead."

Nicomedes let out a long sigh. "And that's how I found myself, at the young age of twenty-five, as the king of Argos. Before he died, Talaus tried to teach me all that he could about ruling but the truth of the matter was that I was too young to appreciate it. I was in a foreign city, without friends or family, and now I had to exercise my right as king? Not to mention, I had to deal with becoming a father at the same time."

Praxis was speechless as he looked at Nicomedes. The king stared right back at him. "I still remember the first time your mother told me she was pregnant with you. I couldn't have been more frightened. I knew nothing about babies. I was still a young man pretending to play king. But I did know one thing--nothing that could have been created with Doris could ever be bad. I went into fatherhood with cautious optimism. And the city? It struggled in the first few years of my rule."

"My mother told me that one of the things that you dealt with was a devastating famine," said Praxis. "She thought that was one of the things that drove you away."

Upon hearing the word, Nicomedes had a visible response. "Famine! She's right. That was one of the worst years of my life. By that point in my reign, I'd lost the goodwill of the people. All the fame I'd won at securing the kingship had bled out because of my inexperience. I made many poor decisions, each one of them worse than the last. By the time the famine came along, I was the father of two young boys, and I was truly at the end of my rope."

"So is that what ultimately made you leave?"

Nicomedes shook his head. "No. It was the death of your brother. What little there was of my confidence was completely shattered when Lampros was trampled to death. Terrible fate for one so little. Your mother didn't come out of her room for two weeks. The only thing she wanted to do was cradle you against her, lest you suffer the same fate. Meanwhile, the famine only got worse."

Nicomedes hung his head at that point, content to stare at the ground. "I was in over my head. I couldn't be the king this city needed, not when people were dying in the streets. I couldn't even protect my own family. The truth of the matter was that even Doris was frustrated with me. She wanted me to be stronger but I just didn't know how. I'd been thrust into this role that I wasn't ready for. As the years went on, the voice in the back of my head got louder. It told me that I should have never left Messene. I shouldn't be there and that I couldn't rule. That I should just give up and go home. I'm afraid to say one evening I listened to that voice."

"I fled," he continued. "In the middle of the night, I fled the palace and left only a note for your mother. Before I went, I stopped by your room. I touched your forehead as you slept and I cried. I hoped that your mother would find a better man to be your father, a better one than me."

"Your hope didn't pan out," said Praxis quietly. "You stuck me with Damian."

"Damian," growled Nicomedes, shaking his head. "If I had known... well, I didn't know. I should've known. I didn't lie to you when I told you I knew Damian. He was a miserable little worm even back then. Your mother thought so too, which is why I was shocked whenever I found out she married him."

"She was desperate," replied Praxis. "She had nobody. Though I hated Damian with a passion, I can't say I blame her for what she did. It gave us stability. The same stability we lost whenever you left."

Nicomedes didn't even try to defend himself. He shook his head slowly. "I regret what I did, Praxis. I succumbed to my weakness. I was blinded by my pride and life humbled me. It broke me. I spent years trying to get my life back in order. I came back to Messene. I found a city that had changed. Most of my living family was dead, which allowed me to proceed with the change in my name without notice. I left Evander behind, only to take up the name of Nicomedes. It took me over a year to get my life back to some semblance of normal but I never forgot about you and Doris. There were many days when I thought about going back, but whenever I tried to do it, fate stopped me."

"You could have easily come back," whispered Praxis. "But you chose the coward's way out."

"You can call me a coward and perhaps you'd be right," said Nicomedes. "The truth was that you and your mother deserved much better than me. I was still lacking in everything--as a father and a husband. I didn't think she'd take me back either. And so I went about building my life here."

"It didn't stop you from taking a new wife," shot Praxis. "Or having another child. But this one you didn't abandon."

"You might say I learned my lesson," said Nicomedes. "Or maybe I just grew up."

Praxis swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want to hear any more of this. I came out here to find my father, and now that I have, I have to say that I couldn't be more disappointed. I thought I might forgive you once I knew the whole story, once I knew your motives for leaving. I just never expected it would be cowardice."

Praxis had enough by that point. He stood up and began to walk away.

"Praxis, wait!" said Nicomedes, rising to his feet. "At the end of the day, you're still my son. That has to count for something, right?"

Praxis turned to look at him. "Right now, it doesn't count for anything. I don't even know who you are."

With those words, Praxis started to walk back toward the city.

Chapter 102: Rage and Sorrow

By the time Praxis got back to the palace, his rage had built into a fireball that wasn't easily quenched. Both Lysandra and Zenais noticed the moment he stepped into their quarters, and it didn't take long before the words were flowing out in a colorful array.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes before the entire story was out. Once he was done speaking, both women could only stare back at him silently.

"It's not right," said Praxis, shaking his head. "He knew the moment he saw me. He knew who I was and he kept it from me until just now. That upsets me almost as much as what he did. He knew I was searching for him and he kept it quiet."

For her part, Zenais seemed to be the one with the most similar response. Her sympathy ran deeper and her anger felt every bit just as righteous as is.

"Do you want to leave?" she asked, standing up as if she was about to start packing. "Go someplace else? I can't imagine you want to stay here in Messene after what you found out?"

Praxis shook his head at the idea but didn't say why. He didn't know what he wanted to do yet. As angry as he was, he couldn't just leave the city to face the wrath of the Spartans.

Lysandra was a little different though. She didn't have such a visceral response like Zenais did, and she seemed to be wanting to take a middle ground between both camps.

"Praxis, it was always going to be this way," she said, soothing him with her hand on his thigh. "You knew that when you found him, it wasn't going to be the happy reunion that you wanted. He would have to answer for what he did. In a way, I expected this reaction when that day finally came."

"I just thought I'd get a different result," replied Praxis. "I thought he would have a good reason for leaving. That it wouldn't boil down to sheer cowardice."

"No one is letting him off the hook for what he did," she said. "But he was young and inexperienced. He panicked and ran from his responsibilities. He has a lot to atone for but he's here now, Praxis. You've been looking for your father and he's here. That has to count for something, right?"

As much as he hated to do it, Praxis nodded slightly. "I've gotten more answers tonight than I have in the rest of my life. I always suspected that they might be answers I didn't want to hear but at least I know. I just need to decide what to do with the information now that I have it."

"At least he told you," said Lysandra. "He didn't have to. He could have said nothing and pointed you on your way."

"But he's still getting something out of it," interjected Zenais, hitting the counterargument again. "He gets Praxis to help train his army. And he did it under bad faith. We could leave here today without having any blemishes on our conscience."

Lysandra crossed her arms in front of her chest. "So you say but I think in practice it would work out much differently than that." She turned to face Praxis again. "What are you going to do? I'm assuming we're staying here, and you won't be able to avoid him forever."

"Not to mention the fact that the Spartans are still coming," added Zenais.

"I don't know yet," said Praxis quietly. "Part of me wants to yell at him until my voice is hoarse. But a small part of me wants to soak up as much time as I can. Zenais is right--the Spartans are still coming. We might be living on borrowed time."

"And if there's only a short amount of time left, you don't want to regret holding that grudge," said Lysandra. "No matter how justified you might be in holding it. You've been pursuing these answers for as long as I've known you. Now that it's here, right in front of you, why run from it?"

Lysandra had a point. He didn't come here just to be upset about the truth, no matter how much it hurt. He came here to find his father. And now that Nicomedes was here--and in dire need--he couldn't let one bad decision lead to another.

"I might have to talk to him tomorrow or something," said Praxis. "Maybe a night of sleep will help me cool down. The gods know that I don't want to still be running hot when I see him next."

That seemed to be the end of the discussion, and Praxis went to bed moments later, but not to sleep. As expected, sleep didn't come easy. He kept thinking about all the times in his life when he could have used a father. His life could have been so much different if Nicomedes hadn't run away like he did.

Praxis tried to picture what Nicomedes would have looked like with his mother, especially in their advanced age, and it was something entirely foreign to him.

Foreign. There was that word again. Praxis wondered if the people of Argos applied that same label to him when he first showed up. Was he the first foreigner in the public eye?

There were still too many questions, more questions than he could rightfully ask in the short time he had left. But Lysandra was right about that--better to ask now when he had the time as opposed to never getting that chance again.

He'd gambled much to be in this position and now that he was here, he couldn't run from it.

He couldn't make the same mistake.

The next morning, Praxis arose from bed tired but with a clearer mind. He wanted to make peace. He anticipated seeing Nicomedes on the training grounds today, and he would pull him aside at that moment. For now though, he was meeting up with Agemon to begin their walk to the grounds.

"You look like Hades this morning," commented Agemon. "Rough night?"

"You don't know the half of it," said Praxis as he thought to tell him the story.

Praxis never got started. He became aware of another presence just in front of them, one that he couldn't ignore.

It was Phaedra and she was staring at him intently. It was the kind of stare that told him everything he needed to know.

She knew.

She knew the cold, hard truth.

"I'll catch up to you," said Praxis as he started moving toward Phaedra. "Get started without me."

Agemon shrugged and kept moving, giving Praxis and his sister a moment of privacy.

Now that they were alone, neither of them seemed to know what to say. No doubt Phaedra was thinking many of the same things he was, and the revelation must have shocked her too.

And yet, as shocking as it all was, there was a reason to be happy. Praxis had thought he'd be forever cursed by having to call Xanthos a brother (even if it was only by marriage).

Now he had a sister. A half-sister.

"A lot of things changed overnight," started Praxis as he managed a smile. "I bet you're just as shocked as I am."

"Shocked to find out I have a brother?" asked Phaedra. "Yeah, I'm a little shocked about that. Father told me everything this morning. You can say that I still don't know how to feel about it all."

"We have that in common then," replied Praxis. "I've never had a sister before. You'll have to forgive me if I don't know how to act around you."

Phaedra actually smiled. "It was a surprise to hear it but then again, I wasn't. I knew something was different about you. I just couldn't explain it but I sensed it. I knew you were important for some reason, even if I didn't know why."

"We both felt that," replied Praxis. "And now we need to figure out what to do with the information. Because I'm at a loss. I've gone through every emotion possible last night and this morning, and I still don't know what to make of it. Part of me wants to hate him for what he did."

"I can understand your frustration with him," said Phaedra. "And you know that I get frustrated too. You've seen it firsthand but he's not a bad man. He wasn't a bad father."

"That's easy for you to say. You've always had him there. He has been a present factor for your entire life so far."

"Be that as it may, I still know him better than you do," she replied. "You have every right to be angry, but he has been a good father. And he is a good man. Is he flawed? Absolutely. But my entire life I've known that he harbored some deep-rooted guilt and I never knew what it was about. Hearing about you, now I know. He has carried your loss with him every day since it happened."