Chapter 29: Chapter 28: A Brush with Destiny

“Maybe he’s giving up his inheritance to become a servant of the Oracle? I hear that kind of thing is attractive to strange men? And Xanthos is one of the strangest men I’ve ever met.”

Praxis resisted the urge to smile as he sat with his friend, Theron, the following morning. The two men had finished their breakfast and were now walking through the city, catching up on everything that had happened in the last two weeks.

At the current moment, they were discussing what Xanthos’ big announcement could be about that evening.

“I doubt it, knowing Xanthos like I do,” said Praxis. “He would rather be the king of an ant hill than be a servant to a god. Besides, it takes a strong nose to be constantly covered in perfume all the time like the servants of Apollo, another thing that Xanthos can’t stand.”

“Maybe he’s acquired a way to plug his nose?” suggested Theron, making the two men laugh.

“For some reason, I think it’s nothing good,” replied Praxis after he stopped laughing. “But what could be worth telling the entire family?”

Theron gave him a funny look. “You don’t think it could be a Spartan alliance after all, do you? Do you think Xanthos did something on his own?”

Praxis shook his head. His mother had told him everything last night about what happened when the Spartan envoy came to Argos. They’d made their demands, and each one was more preposterous than the last. For the first time, Praxis had to actually commend Damian for not caving to the Spartans and putting the garrison in the city.

At least the old man had some sense left.

“No, it won’t be the alliance, although I’m sure Xanthos was upset that nothing came of it,” said Praxis. “My guess is that it’s some self-serving measure. Something that will make me roll my eyes, no doubt.”

“Maybe something that will make you wish you were back in Corinth,” joked Theron. “How was it by the way? I mean, apart from the Astara business.”

Praxis frowned as he remembered the dark-maned beauty. He hadn’t seen her yet in Argos despite the fact that she left Corinth the day before he did. Frankly, he didn’t even know what he’d do if he did see her. Astara had made her feelings known for him when they were still in Corinth and their relationship seemed to be over before it really began.

“It wasn’t bad,” said Praxis, taking his mind back to Theron’s question. “I met one of the warriors there, a man by the name of Agemon. You would like him. He fights well but he could use your prowess in talking to women. In that regard, he’s a little hopeless.”

Theron grinned. “It’s a skill only the best of us learn. And some of us never have to learn it at all. We’re just born with it.”

“Anyway, you would have liked him,” continued Praxis. “We certainly had our adventures while we were there.”

Praxis hadn’t spared any of the details about his time in Corinth, telling Theron everything about Cypselus, Dion, and Telestes. He wouldn’t have told just anyone due to the nature of the story, but he trusted Theron with his life, and he knew his friend wouldn’t go blathering about it to anyone else.

“It brings up a good question though,” said Theron. “If the Corinthians are out of the Peloponnesian League, just what will the Spartans do? How quickly will they retaliate?”

“You think they will retaliate?”

Theron nodded. “Only a matter of time with them. The Spartans never forget a grudge, no matter how little. They won’t take the loss of an entire city very well. By the time the garrison gets back to Sparta, they’ll meet an army that’s ready to march.”

“I guess it all depends on how tactfully Cypselus manages to eject from the alliance,” said Praxis. “He’s going to have to be quite cunning if he hopes to pull this off without bloodshed.”

“At least if the Spartans are focused on Corinth, it will take the focus off of Argos,” said Theron. “I think everyone was shocked but also quietly relieved that your stepfather didn’t enter the alliance with them. I think the people expected Damian to fold quite easily.”

“Well, he might have just bought us all some time,” said Praxis. He was about to say something else when he noticed movement around the base of the Aspida Hill. A man was moving quite quickly through the crowd, moving with purpose.

It wasn’t just any man either.

It was Xanthos.

“Where is he going?” muttered Praxis, his curiosity piqued. He turned to see Theron looking at him.

“Did you see that?” asked Praxis. “Xanthos is scurrying through the city like a man on a mission.”

Theron shrugged his shoulders. “With a man like Xanthos, who knows? Why is it troubling you though? Do you think he’s up to no good?”

“Xanthos is usually up to no good,” mumbled Praxis.

He thought about following his stepbrother for a moment, wondering just where he was going. Praxis wondered if this had anything to do with the announcement coming tonight, and once more his mind raced with possibilities.

Ultimately though, he chose not to follow Xanthos. If his stepbrother found out Praxis was following him, it would start trouble again. And Praxis didn’t need to be exiled from the city once more.

Praxis kept walking with Theron until he reached Theron’s house, parting ways with the man as noon approached. He made his way back toward the Aspida Hill, catching no sight of Xanthos in the process. Praxis could only imagine what kind of mischief his stepbrother could be into now, but he decided it was better off to wait until tonight to find out.

Crossing close to the market, Praxis deliberately found himself in the part where he might see a familiar face. He did so subconsciously but he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the long, dark hair of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

At this very moment, Astara was alone. Praxis could see other patrons passing in front of her stall but none of them were stopping to purchase anything.

As if guided by fate, he found himself walking closer to her.

Astara’s eyes centered on him by chance at first and then by purpose. They narrowed on that second look as she registered just who was approaching her.

Hardly a good sign.

“Astara, can we talk?”

She didn’t answer him. She crossed her arms in front of her breasts and looked in another direction. At that moment, Praxis remembered just how it felt to have those breasts pushed against his chest as they had sex.

Why did that memory seem like another lifetime ago?

When she still didn’t answer, Praxis cleared his throat.

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“Are you just going to pretend I don’t exist?” he asked, his voice louder and more firm. “Will you ignore me forever?”

Finally, Astara’s glare centered on him again. “I have nothing to say to you, Praxis.” For a brief moment, her tone softened. “Not now anyway,” she mumbled.

Praxis wasn’t finished yet.

“Can we at least talk about what happened in Corinth?”

“No, Praxis, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because what’s done is done,” she said after a heavy sigh. “We’re just fooling ourselves. We were fooling ourselves. I don’t want to talk about it again.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t like every minute of it.”

Astara gave him a shocked look, clearly not expecting that statement. She stuttered for a moment before finding her words.

“What I felt about you isn’t relevant.”

“It is relevant,” he insisted. “I didn’t forget all those things you whispered in my ear those nights. All those feelings you told me about.”

“Stop, Praxis. Cut it out.”

He continued anyway. “You told me that you never wanted to be with anyone else. That you loved when I was inside of you—”

“Praxis, stop!”

Her words echoed from the stall, causing several nearby patrons to stop what they were doing to look at them. Praxis knew this kind of attention was dangerous in regards to her family and he stopped talking at once.

Astara pointed toward the market exit. “Just leave, please? Move on and see somebody new. I can’t do this with you. Not now. Not after what’s happened.”

There was something about the way she said not now that got his attention. What exactly had happened? Was she talking about the discovery by her father or was this about something else?

Praxis didn’t stick around to find out. People were still looking at them, and he knew it was very likely that a member of her family might appear at any moment. Seeing the moment lost, he said one more thing before he left.

“I’m not going to forget about you,” he promised as he walked away.

Though he had no way of knowing it, a tear fell down her cheek after he left. It wasn’t joined by any others but the sentiment still remained.

Praxis kept walking until he was on the outskirts of the market. Before he could head back to the palace, he felt a small hand grab at the back of his chiton.

Turning around, he saw the face of Nico, Astara’s younger brother.

At least Nico acted like he was happy to see him.

“You came back to Argos,” said the bright-eyed youngster. “When did you come back?”

“Just yesterday,” replied Praxis. “The day after your family left.”

“Oh, I see.”

Nico thumbed his finger in the direction of his sister. “She still has feelings for you, you know? Despite what she says.”

Praxis looked past the young boy toward Astara for a brief moment. “How do you know?”

Nico shrugged. “I just do. It’s hard to miss when it’s your own sister, but I know she still likes you. I know a bad thing happened when our father found out about you two but she still feels the same way about you, even if she doesn’t want to.”

“So what am I supposed to do now?” asked Praxis. “Give her space? Or keep trying to talk to her?”

Nico made a pained face. “I can’t say. Let’s just say that it’s not for me to say, okay?”

Praxis gave him an odd look. For the second time, he was getting the feeling that he wasn’t hearing the whole story.

What did both Astara and Nico know that he didn’t?

He was still trying to figure it out when Nico stepped forward and patted his elbow. “I’m sorry. I should go now. Father will be back any time. See you around, Praxis.”

Just like that, the young boy was gone, disappearing into the market and leaving Praxis with even more questions.

So far, Praxis was beginning to think he should have just stayed in Corinth.

With heavy shoulders, he made his way toward the palace, crossing through several neighborhoods in the process. It was hot today, and the sun was already beating down on the streets with unrelenting fury. Sweat was heavy on his brow, and more than anything, he thought about taking a nap before tonight’s dinner with the family.

It was as he neared the palace that he heard a very familiar voice call out to him.

A feminine voice that halted him in his tracks.

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