Chapter 14: Chapter 13: Secrets

“Okay, you really want the truth?” asked Praxis as he walked alongside Astara in the streets of Corinth.

Astara nodded, not saying a word until he started talking again.

“All right, fine,” he replied. “The truth is that I’m not here because my stepfather wanted me here. Well, maybe that’s not correct. He did want me out of Argos, not caring where I went.”

Astara raised an eyebrow. “Why did he want you out of the city?”

“He . . . exiled me,” said Praxis finally.

He turned to look at Astara, who was now giving him an astounded look.

“Let me explain. Do you remember the battle with the Cynurians a week ago?”

“Of course,” she replied. “The one that we won, thanks to you?”

Praxis nodded. “My stepfather never wanted that battle to happen. He believed that the Cynurians should be allowed to do whatever they want, because they are a Spartan ally.”

Astara turned to look at him. “And you? What do you believe?”

“I believe that foreign powers raiding our lands and killing off our people need to be handled with a firm hand,” said Praxis. “Particularly one wielding a sword. My stepfather doesn’t share my beliefs. He will do whatever he can to get us into that Spartan alliance, and his views are shared by my stepbrother, Xanthos.”

Astara stiffened a little at the mention of Xanthos. “It doesn’t sound like being in that alliance is the best thing for Argos.”

Praxis smiled. “Those same words have been uttered by me to him several times. All the good that it does. In any event, Xanthos picked a fight with me the night of the battle, which Damian heard all about. Those two slights—fighting his favorite son and starting a risky battle against a protected opponent—made me not welcome in Argos. I’m exiled for a period of two weeks before I’m allowed to come back.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” she asked. “Anyone besides your family?”

Praxis shook his head. “Not as far as I know. Just a couple friends of mine but that’s it.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “It’s a good thing my father doesn’t know then. I’m already going to catch a heap of trouble for seeing you here, and I don’t need that on top of that.”

“Did he forbid you from talking to me?” asked Praxis.

She narrowed her eyes. “How did you know?”
“He gave me the same warning last night,” he admitted. “It’s the reason I left early this morning before you awoke. I figured I didn’t want to say an awkward goodbye so I just left.”

Surprisingly, Astara started to smile. “That’s the real reason you left? Not because you didn’t like me?”

“Like you? By the gods, I . . .”

Praxis struggled with his words. How much did he really want to admit to Astara? She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Could he tell her how much he really liked her?

“I’m very fond of you already,” he finished, giving her a rakish smile.

Astara started to laugh. “You beast, you had me going for a minute. You know, I should be more upset with you that you ditched me this morning but I’m glad I found you here. And I’m glad that I intervened when I did. I was in your debt after yesterday and I think that we’re now even, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, I would say so,” said Praxis with a chuckle.

“By the way, what were you looking for in that merchant’s shop before all the trouble happened? Anything in particular?”

Praxis started to nod. “I was looking for a new cuirass to replace the one that I had. Unfortunately, those robbers killed the man, which sets me back quite a ways. He was a good man too. He didn’t deserve that kind of fate.”

Astara brought her finger to her lips and began to tap them. It was a common sign of thinking and yet, she made the move looking incredibly adorable.

“I got it,” she said brightly. “I know a place not far from here. And you might just find a better quality cuirass than you might have gotten otherwise. Come with me.”

As it turned out, Astara’s merchant contact had exactly what he needed. Praxis found a piece that was effective but didn’t cost an arm and a leg. The merchant even promised to have it fitted to his body, which was an added benefit. After taking some measurements of Praxis’ chest, he vowed to have the piece of armor ready for him within two days, which was quicker than Praxis imagined.

“I have to hand it to you, I wasn’t expecting much when you told me you knew someone else,” admitted Praxis as they left the shop. “But that merchant was great. I think he had better wares than the original man.”

Astara grinned at him. “You ought to give me more credit. Thanks to my father, I’ve been around merchants my whole life—all different kinds from Messenia to Macedon. I know most of the big names in the major cities, and if he didn’t have what you needed, I knew of two more that could probably have gotten the job done too.”

“You’re full of surprises then,” said Praxis, chuckling. “We won’t have to worry about him telling on us to your father though, will you?”

Astara waved her hand. “Let me deal with him. My father is certainly overprotective. I’m his eldest daughter, so I get it even worse than my younger sister, Delia. And I see no reason why I would need to avoid your company. I rather enjoy spending time with you, Praxis.”

That last statement had come with a change in Astara’s tone. Her voice lowered, becoming a fleshy whisper as she finished with his name. As he turned to look at her, he found that she was watching him with interested eyes.

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“Is your father always like that when you’re around other men?” asked Praxis. “Or does he just have it out for me in particular?”

“It’s been most men in my life,” said Astara with a sigh. “And lately, he’s just been insufferable. Especially since I’ve been promised to . . . that man.”

Praxis found it secretly pleasing that she was referring to Xanthos as that man. And yet, he still had no idea why that was the case.

“There’s a story there somewhere,” he said. “What has turned you so against Xanthos?”

Astara shook her head. “It’s everything about him,” she admitted. “He’s cold and arrogant. He thinks he deserves the best of things just because he’s the son of the king. And not to mention, I’ve seen him . . . strike my father before.”

Praxis almost stopped in his tracks. “Horn of Hades, Xanthos actually hit him?”

Astara nodded. “My father did nothing about it. It was over something tiny and it was completely uncalled for. But my father sees me as a pawn to be used to enhance the prestige of the family. So he tolerated it, but ever since that day, I wanted nothing to do with Xanthos. Any man that would treat my own father in such a disrespectful way could never be the kind of loving partner that I desire.”

“Have you thought about saying something to King Damian? He might not be much better than Xanthos but at least he still knows right from wrong.”

Astara growled. “Damian was in the room when it happened. He let it happen and said nothing! No, the son is no different from the father in this case. Both of them see me as just some kind of prize to be won. A second wife for the future king and nothing more.”

Astara turned her big, vulnerable eyes in his direction. “I want more than that for my life, Praxis. I want to feel a part of something greater than myself. I want to feel real love. I could never find it with that man.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” said Praxis quietly. “I know you didn’t have to but I’m glad you did.”

She gave him a toothy smile. “I rather enjoy talking with you. You have the rare ability to make me forget about the problems of my life.”

“Is it because my problems are usually so much more drastic and serious?” he quipped.

Astara giggled. “Perhaps that’s the case. But who really knows?”

“Well talk to me about one more thing,” said Praxis. “What really happened outside the merchant’s shop? How did you get that prefect to let me go so easily?”

“That was actually the simple part,” she admitted. “My father knows all the prefects in the city. Several of them were carried over when Cypselus came to power a few months ago but there’s a small minority of them that are new faces. In any event, all of them including Cypselus know my father and most do business with him. That gives us a pull that we wouldn’t otherwise have. The easy part was just speaking out to stop him from punishing you.”

“It still amazes me that you were able to make that happen,” said Praxis. “Otherwise, fortune might not have been so kind to me.”

“It’s a good thing you have friends in high places then,” she teased.

“A good thing indeed,” he replied before realizing something else. “Wait a moment. You said that was the easy part about getting me released. What was the hard part?”

Astara gave him a coy look. “Honestly? It was deciding if I wanted to release you after you ditched me this morning. I thought for a brief moment that I ought to let you go through with your punishment.”

She bumped into his body, letting him know that it was nothing more than a joke.

Praxis grinned. “Well then, remind me to never walk away from you without saying goodbye.”

She matched his grin. “I’m glad to see you learned your lesson. I think you’ll find that Corinth is a good city though, despite your experience today. Cypselus is a good king, much better than the old king, Telestes. And word has it that Cypselus is even trying to get rid of the Spartan garrison here in Corinth too. You might just have a friend here in Corinth if your goals are similar.”

“That would be interesting,” said Praxis. “But it would require my stepfather to have a spine first. Unfortunately, the gods didn’t bless him with one so we have to make do without it.”

“What a pity,” she said with a growing smile. “At least the gods saw fit to give you a generous helping of a backbone. And I have to say, it’s much appreciated in moments like these.”

There it was again, the subtle flirting. It was unmistakable this time, and Praxis found himself somewhat excited about what the future might hold.

“I rather enjoy these moments with you too,” he said, causing Astara to beam with a smile.

As fate would have it, the two walked through a portion of the city that Praxis crossed earlier, when he’d encountered the pushy pimp. The pimp was still out in the streets, and he took one look at Praxis and grinned.

“What did I tell you, my young friend?” he said with a grin. “Doesn’t Corinth have the most beautiful women in the world? I see you’ve found yourself a good one!”

Praxis just didn’t have the heart to correct him.

Astara gave him a confused look as they kept walking. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing at all. Truly nothing,” he said, chuckling to himself.

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