The Argive Ch. 136-141

"Come and get me," he challenged.

"With pleasure," replied Nikandros as he yanked back his sword.

With those two words, Nikandros dashed forward and unleashed a devastating set of moves that caught Praxis off guard almost from the beginning. If there was one thing Praxis couldn't reconcile, it was just how fast Nikandros moved. It was quickly made apparent that the king of the Spartans deserved his position as the leader of the most potent foe in the Peloponnese, especially as he worked Praxis like an adult would work a child.

"Pathetic," quipped Nikandros after a few minutes of fighting. "Your reputation is more deadly than you are. There would be no honor in killing you, especially as impotent as you are right now."

"I'm not done yet," muttered Praxis as he brandished his spear behind him. "And you're not as good as you think you are."

That statement seemed to get to Nikandros because a look of pure anger appeared on his face as he unleashed an ever more deadly series of moves. Praxis ended up taking two cuts during this melee, one across the upper arm that bled terribly and the other along his upper thigh that felt like it stopped at the bone.

"Did you change your opinion yet?" growled Nikandros as his blade dripped with Praxis' blood. "I've been fighting since you were still sucking on your mother's tit. It was foolish of you to think you could stand up to me!"

"And yet, I'm still here," said Praxis. "And as long as I'm still alive, you don't have full control of the Peloponnese."

"You might be right," replied Nikandros. "Which means I need to finish the job now."

At that moment, Nikandros bashed his shield against Praxis', causing Praxis to nearly fall over due to the weight of the charge. Praxis recovered just in time to thrust his spear at the Spartan king, which was blocked by a timely adjustment of the king's shield. It threw Nikandros off balance, allowing Praxis to continue on the offensive for the first time against him.

However, it wasn't going to last long. Nikandros batted away Praxis' next thrust like it was child's play and then sidestepped to put his blade dangerously close to Praxis' exposed side.

There was no way he could stop the blade before it cut through his fleshy midsection.

Praxis yelped in pain as Nikandros roared in triumph. Praxis took several steps back to catch his bearings, all the while feeling the blood drip down his side.

"I'm done toying with you now," proclaimed Nikandros. "No more games. It's time for your men to watch you die."

With a mighty yell, the Spartan king leapt forward and dashed his sword against Praxis' cuirass, which stopped the blade from achieving any penetration. However, it was an incredibly dangerous move, as it exposed a good portion of Nikandros' striking arm. Any ordinary warrior might have pulled his arm back more quickly than Nikandros did, but it was like he was trying to saw through Praxis' cuirass.

It was a move of total hubris. Nikandros assumed Praxis was beaten and didn't see the need for further protection.

It was the last stupid thing the Spartan king would ever do.

Praxis positioned his feet so that the king would charge him one more time, hoping that he would repeat the movement. And once more, the arrogant king didn't disappoint.

This time, Praxis could feel the pain as part of the king's blade pierced his cuirass but it was only temporarily, especially as Praxis swung his arm in a punishing arc down on the king's.

It was only a matter of seconds before the sharp blade pierced completely through the arm of the Spartan king. Triumph turned to terror as he registered the loss of his arm, cut off just below the elbow. His missing appendage fell harmlessly to the ground by Praxis' feet.

Nikandros had been literally and figuratively disarmed.

His painful shriek echoed in Praxis' ear as he grabbed the bloody stump where the rest of his arm used to be. His nearby warriors, shocked at seeing their king so defeated, recoiled in terror.

"No, no!" roared Nikandros as he took a step back. "This can't be! I never lose! I'm the best warrior in Greece!"

Praxis moved forward now, spurred on by the sudden flush of victory. He shadowed the Spartan king even as he fell to his knees.

"You can't do this!" yelled Nikandros.

"Watch me," replied Praxis.

With those words, Praxis pulled back his spear and sent it crashing forward. His aim was true, and the tip of the blade entered the Spartan king's mouth, muffling his screams even as it pierced his skull and exited the other side. As soon as Praxis pulled the spear free, Nikandros of Sparta fell to the ground, his body still twitching involuntarily.

The scourge of the Peloponnese was finally dead.

If Praxis expected his death to shock the nearby Spartans into pulling away, he was soon disappointed. Seeing their king fall to the ground after his death did not cause them to slacken their efforts.

If anything, they fought harder now, as if determined to justify his sacrifice. Praxis had to quickly reenter the fray, especially as his lines started to run dangerously thin in some spots.

It seemed the thirst for blood was anything but over.

Chapter 140: Victory or Defeat?

It was like the real battle had finally begun.

Even with Nikandros dead and bloody on the stained Cynurian field, his Spartan warriors were still fighting like they were possessed by Ares himself. It was testament to their quality that they didn't immediately lose heart because of their king's fall, and Praxis found himself pressed like never before.

The biggest issue was that they were taking casualties that they couldn't replace. Looking down the line, Praxis could see several spots where it had thinned significantly, which required him to pull away from the fighting in order to find reinforcements.

"Agemon, thin out the rear ranks from the left flank and pull them over to the center," he instructed his large Corinthian friend. "Keep an eye open for any other thinning spots!"

"You got it," replied Agemon. He then got the attention of the rear ranks. "You men, follow me! We're needed elsewhere!"

The Corinthians performed well, immediately disengaging from the battle and forming a line that centered behind Agemon. Once they were in position, Agemon nodded his head to Praxis.

At that point, Praxis ran back to the center, followed by a group of Corinthian warriors where he soon positioned them behind the thin Argives. Each man grabbed the cuirass of the man in front of him, steadying both himself and adding weight to the line.

Once he was satisfied, Praxis fought his way to the front, where he took out another two Spartans in quick succession.

The biggest problem that he saw was that there were still so many of them. Where Praxis' line was thin and fragile, the Spartans still had many ranks, and they were using the combined weight of their men to push them further up the hill.

Something had to change soon, or else this battle was a lost cause.

*****

"They just keep coming! Gods above and below, when will these bastards get enough?"

Thorax barely had time to reply to his brother's curse before another Spartan was on him again. The morning's fight was now bleeding into the afternoon, and there was no stopping Spartan power. The man that was coming at him right now, an older Spartan with a missing eye, fought every bit as fiercely as a man half his age.

Using his shield for protection, Thorax blunted the Spartan's attack before following up with a counterthrust with his spear. He caught the Spartan in the shoulder, sending the one-eyed man down and bringing on another. Thorax felt like he'd been following that sequence all morning--blunt, thrust, and down they go.

At least the spear phalanx was showing its worth but the biggest issue he faced was exhaustion. His arms ached from lugging around his shield and thrusting with his spear. His leg was bloody, having missed a jab from a Spartan warrior about an hour ago.

Most of all, Thorax just wanted a sign that the end was near.

Thankfully, his portion of the line was near the old center, before the Spartans extended their lines before the battle. And it was here that the enemy was thinning rapidly, hinting at the promise of a breakthrough.

If only they could find the strength to exploit it.

Thorax wasn't the only person that saw the thinning enemy line. A few men over, Cilix was also fighting for his life, and any spare glance he got was directed at the thinning mass of Spartans.

"Almost there, men!" yelled Cilix. "Keep pushing forward!"

Thorax gritted his teeth, determined to obey the order with what was left of his strength. On either side of him, the other Argives took a half-inch step forward, and then another, and then another. The Spartans, finding the show on the other foot, started to cede ground.

They didn't manage to push forward without difficulty. One Spartan in particular managed to knock Thorax back, throwing him off balance and exposing his unprotected side. It was a move that had caused the death of many other Argives today, and Thorax closed his eyes, preparing for the thrust that never came.

When he opened his eyes again, he found Hippias engaging with the Spartan, using his shield as an offensive weapon to force him back. It bought Thorax enough room to stand up again, and then the two brothers were able to engage the warrior at once.

"Get him, Thorax!" said Hippias as he drew the Spartan's attention his way. "Finish the deal!"

The distraction was just enough time for Thorax to thrust his spear right in the Spartan's flank, causing the man to yell in terrible anguish. He fell to the ground crippled but not out, leaving Hippias to add the final touch.

The Spartan stopped screaming once Hippias' spear went through his chest, joining the rest of his fallen compatriots.

"Now that's what I call teamwork," said Hippias, grinning from ear to ear once he pulled the spear free.

Thorax chuckled and looked ahead, seeing one two more men in their way before they were able to break the Spartan line.

"Almost there, brother! Just a little bit more!" he called out.

Hippias nodded and the two brothers continued to press their Spartan foes. Thorax went down first, allowing him to pivot and attack the Spartan in front of Hippias next. He was quickly dispatched with a spear to the gut, and then there were no more Spartans left in front of them.

The only thing Thorax could see was the open field and the tree line just down the hill.

The line had been pierced.

"We have a gap!" yelled Cilix, who was still nearby. "Exploit the gap, men! Make the Spartans pay!"

It was the statement they'd all been waiting on. With superhuman strength, the Argives continued to pour into the gap while turning the flanks on the Spartans. Even their vaunted enemy, not devastated by the loss of their king, couldn't deal with the collapse of their front. The Spartans broke and started running down the hill just as fast as their weary legs could carry them.

It was like watching a tidal wave all down the line until finally, there wasn't one group of Spartans left fighting. The deed had been done.

Sparta was defeated.

*****

There were no words to describe the exhaustion that Praxis felt as he chased down another group of Spartans moving down the hill. It was exhaustion tingled with a sense of elation, especially as the battle appeared all but over now.

The result had been a bloodbath. Casualties were heavy on both sides, but most notably the Spartans who took heavy losses once their line was pierced. The upper hillside was now littered with the remains of their dead, the high-water mark of their dreams of an Peloponnesian empire.

With the Spartan army in disarray, Praxis finally called off an end to the chase so that they could attend to their wounded. Most of the men that fell on their side weren't dead but merely wounded. Some would live to see another day, their wounds non-lethal. Others wouldn't live to see the sun set that night, a high cost for those that only wanted to live their lives in freedom.

Even with their losses, there was a sense of jubilation that took every man. The mixed army of Argives, Messenians, and Corinthians cheered when Praxis reappeared at the top of the hill, and he found himself surrounded by men on all sides. It was notable that his Messenians and Corinthians were cheering for King Praxis.

The Argives, however, cheered for their foreigner, an insult that had become a true term of endearment.

Praxis grinned from ear to ear as he took their celebration. He soon collided with Zenais, who was bloody but unscathed from the fighting.

"We did it!" she yelled as she jumped into his arms. "We defeated the Spartans!"

Praxis kissed her and spun her around before soon taking other embraces from his generals, who had now joined the scene.

"Spartan power is broken!" roared Cypselus, giving Praxis several hearty pats on the back. "You have done it, my young friend. You took raw recruits and turned them into the deadliest army in all of Greece."

"We did," corrected Praxis. "Argos couldn't have stood alone without Corinth, or Messene for that matter. The strength of our cause was built on the shoulders of great allies."

Cypselus grinned and patted him again. "Horn of Hades, I couldn't have said it better myself!"

The celebration continued on for the next several hours, even after the army buried its dead. On the other side of the plain, the Spartans had coalesced into a single force once more, but in doing so they revealed just how many of them had died earlier. That new force was less than half the size of the original, and no longer a threat to them.

Eventually, a new Spartan came forward, this one moving with a considerable limp despite his young age. He came to the base of the hill, where he was met by other Argive warriors. Praxis wasn't surprised to see them then bring this Spartan toward him, where his identify was swiftly revealed.

"Eurypon of Sparta, my king," said the Argive warrior. "He is the son of King Cleomenes, and the sole surviving leader inside the Spartan army right now. He'd like an audience with you if possible."

"Bring him forward," instructed Praxis.

Eurypon of Sparta had seen better days. Praxis judged that he was at most only a couple years older than himself, but he had certainly taken the brunt of today's fighting judging by his bloody armor. Most notable was the bow of his head when he reached Praxis, something that Nikandros would have never done.

"King Praxis, I'm here to negotiate a truce between us," said Eurypon upon arrival. "My forces are in no position to fight yours any longer."

"A truce is going to come at a heavy price, Eurypon," warned Praxis. "There is a lot of blood on Spartan hands. I'm also not sure if you're in any position to negotiate with me."

"I'm the only general left in my force," replied Eurypon. "And I have considerable sway with my father, who is now the only king left in Sparta. We are in no condition to continue this war with you. I'd like to know what your demands are to cease hostilities."

It was like something out of a dream. Praxis had thought about what this day might look like for a long time, and now that it was here, he could scarcely believe it. Even still, he knew exactly what he was going to ask Eurypon.

"My demands are simple yet firm," said Praxis. "The first is that from this day forward, Argos, Corinth, and Messene will have no affiliation or alliance with the Peloponnesian League. All three cities are to be independent states once more, led by rulers of their own choosing."

Eurypon nodded his head. "I can agree to that."

"Furthermore, Sparta is to allow each land still remaining in the Peloponnesian League the opportunity to leave if they so desire," continued Praxis. "That means Achaea, Cynuria, and the Arcadians will have the chance to become independent once more without the threat of Spartan reprisal."

That took Eurypon by surprise judging by the look on his face. Praxis thought he might contest that point but it was testament to their lack of power that he wasn't able to.

"We can agree to that as well," replied Eurypon quietly.

"One last thing," said Praxis as a smile grew on his face. "I never want to see another Spartan in Argos again."

Chapter 141: Epilogue

As it turned out, Eurypon was a better keeper of his word than Nikandros had been.

Nearly two weeks after the Battle of the Cynurian Plain, peace had broken out across the entire Peloponnese. Praxis had returned to Argos with his victorious army and could now look forward to a future that didn't involve bloodthirsty kings or aggressive alliances that could disturb the peace.

Sparta was still in disarray but at least they had held onto their end of the bargain. Eurypon's father, the much more reserved King Cleomenes, had accepted the peace terms brokered by his son, putting an end to the war. He'd also allowed his other Peloponnesian allies the chance to become independent once more.

Cynuria and Arcadia, as fractured as they were, chose to stay under the umbrella of Spartan power, but Achaea on the northern end of the Peloponnese chose to go their own way, throwing off Spartan shackles for true freedom.

All it took was an afternoon of hard fighting to break Spartan power for generations to come.

With the threat of war ending, Praxis was able to disband the army once they returned to Argos. They had done their duty well, and they took with them the new fighting style as the mainstay of Argive power. There was one portion that Praxis returned, which was a reconstituted Elites that was styled just like it was in the old days. It was there that Cilix and some new faces, like Thorax and Hippias, would guard the security of Argos for years to come.

Today though was a somber day because it was now time for their Corinthian friends to go home. Praxis and his family met Cypselus, Lyra, Agemon, and Cora at the entrance to the palace, where everyone was busy embracing those that had become like a second family.

"Thank you for everything you've done," said Lyra as she hugged Praxis. "I don't know what my husband would have done without you. We'd probably still be lingering in Athens."

"As much as Cypselus has done for me, it was the least I could do," replied Praxis. "He deserves this place leading his city. Corinth deserves him."

Lyra smiled and gave way to Cypselus, who had heard the whole thing. "Not as much as Argos deserves you," he said. "You've come a long way from that boy I met many months ago."

Praxis grinned. "I've had a little help along the way. Take care of yourself, will you? And keep in touch with us here."

"You better believe it," promised Cypselus.

The Corinthian king made way for Cora, who hugged Praxis next.

"Can you keep Agemon out of trouble?" joked Praxis. "You seem to be the only one that's capable of doing that."

Cora's eyes went wide. "I'll try but you know how Agemon is."

"How am I what?" interrupted the large Corinthian, who embraced Praxis next.

"I asked her to keep you out of trouble," repeated Praxis. "Since I won't be around to watch your ass with you back in Corinth."

"Oh, don't worry about that," replied Agemon. "I'm thinking of getting into the trading business."

Praxis arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, there's no fighting left to do," said Agemon. "You had to go and end it all here. So I need to find another way to keep a roof over my head."

Praxis started to laugh. "I suppose that means you'll be making frequent trips to Argos then?"

"You can count on that," replied Agemon. "Will you give me a place to stay?"

"Always, my friend. Always."

The two men embraced one more time before it was time for the Corinthians to go. Praxis, Lysandra, Astara, Zenais, and Phaedra waved to them as they disappeared down the main street that led toward the base of the Aspida hill. Though it was a goodbye for now, Praxis knew he would see them again soon.