Chapter 57: Chapter 57: The Consequences of Discovery

At that moment, Praxis knew nothing but white, hot rage.

It started with all the village elders barging into Demetrios’ house, letting the secret out for good. Their accusatory stares landed directly on Praxis and Lysandra, and many of them were filled with pure hatred at their very presence. To make matters worse, they’d been led there by none other than Orcus, who had vowed to keep their existence secret in exchange for a silver pendant that had once belonged to Demetrios’ daughter.

It was this betrayal of trust by the vile creature Orcus that had Praxis springing into action. He’d no sooner grabbed his sword before he was restrained by Demetrios and Rastus both, grabbing his hands with all their strength.

“Calm yourself, Praxis!” urged Demetrios. “You cannot kill him!”

“He will kill us!” countered Praxis. “He must die for what he did!’

“What is the meaning of this, Demetrios?” asked the lead elder, a man with snow-white hair. “What have you been up to?”

“He’s been harboring Argives!” shouted Orcus, who was fingering his pendant (much to Praxis’ disgust). “He keeps them here in his house in direct violation of our laws. He should be put to death alongside them!”

In response to that, Demetrios just shook his head at the betrayal. He pointed his finger at Orcus calmly. “You know what you’ve done. I know the gods will punish you for it someday. Hopefully that day comes while I’m still alive.”

Orcus said nothing to that. He just continued to finger the pendant out of fear.

“That is quite enough,” said the snow-white hair man. He took a step in front of Orcus as if to protect him. At that moment, Praxis guessed there was probably some kind of familial relation between the two.

“Explain yourself, Demetrios,” continued the lead elder. “Why have you broken our laws? Why do you give shelter to our enemies?”

“They are no enemies of mine, Medios,” replied Demetrios. “And they’ve shown no inclination to violence while being under my care.”

Medios gawked at him. “Did you not just witness the threatening movement this Argive just made toward my son, Orcus?”

Praxis scoffed. “It would have been what he deserved.”

“These two are in my care,” added Demetrios, raising his voice above all others. “My duty as a healer to this village is to heal. I don’t care who it is that needs help as long as they get the help they require. This man came to me on the verge of death, brought by his lover to my doorstep. Who am I to turn them away?”

“But they are Argives, Demetrios,” said Medios. “And if I had to guess, this has to do with the city’s recent fall to the Spartans. You know we cannot afford to upset them by giving strength to their enemies. Have you forgotten what happened the last time the Spartans passed through our village?”

Demetrios shook his head slowly. “I haven’t forgotten. But I wasn’t about to let them die out there in the elements. My integrity wouldn’t allow it.”

“Your integrity?” mocked Orcus before looking at Medios. “Let’s kill all of them, Father. And then we can send their heads to the Spartans to show them what loyal subjects we are. If we move quickly, we might get their heads to Sparta before the army returns from its campaign.”

“I do not wish to end your life, Demetrios,” said Medios, clearly perplexed by what course to take. “But anyone who gives harbor to Spartan enemies shares their fate by our own laws. Did you know you were putting your life at risk?”

“I knew,” replied Demetrios brazenly.

“What about your grandson Rastus?” asked Medios. “Did you know his life was forfeit as well?”

Demetrios shared a look with his grandson before turning back to Medios. “I knew that too,” he whispered.

Medios shook his head. “There is nothing that can be done then. I might have been willing to show leniency if you proclaimed an ignorance to the law, even if that would have been hard to believe. But your own words show that you knew the consequences. Even as a healer, your first loyalty is not to your patient but to your village. And you placed our lives beneath those that you don’t even know.”

“These two are good people,” said Demetrios, pointing at Praxis and Lysandra. “If we must do something, then let’s have them leave our village. The Spartans will be none the wiser. You can clearly understand that they only need to be away from our village for this problem to cease. Let’s make them leave now!”

Medios shook his head. “You should know that it’s not that easy. Word is already spreading of their presence in this village. By nightfall, everyone will know. All it takes is one slip-up, one mention from an unassuming mouth and all of Sparta will know of our transgression. No, they must die. And as much as it pains me to say this, you must die with them, Demetrios. As will Rastus. There can be no exceptions.”

“There must be some other way,” said a frightened Lysandra, now rushing to Praxis’ side. “We’ve done no harm to this village! Nor to Demetrios! We can’t be treated like this!”

“I’m afraid the Spartans won’t see it the same way,” replied Medios. “Now you have two choices. You can come willingly and accept that your lives are over. Or you can resist and we’ll torch the house and put anyone who escapes to the sword. Are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

Praxis was already grabbing his sword, ready to do it the “hard” way. There were only five elders plus Orcus but with his movement, Demetrios put pressure on Praxis’ hand.

“There are more outside,” he whispered to Praxis. “You won’t be able to get out. We’re as good as dead.”

“We’re as good as dead anyway,” hissed Praxis. “I’d rather go out with a sword in my hand if I have the choice!”

For some reason, those words seemed to trigger something in Demetrios. For several moments, he said nothing at all as an idea worked its way around his mind. It was clear that whatever idea it was, he didn’t love it, but when he turned to face Medios again, he seemed set in his intentions.

“There is another way,” said Demetrios. “I ask for permission for them to face the trials.”

There was an audible gasp from several of the elders. Many of them turned to look at each other, their eyes anxious at such a question being asked. Finally, they turned to Medios, who didn’t look pleased.

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“The trials?” he barked. “Impossible! No one has faced the trials in almost two generations! It’s impossible to even think about, let alone discuss!”

“Isn’t the trials the only way they can possibly prevent the punishment you’re suggesting?” asked a calm Demetrios. “If they survive, then we can drop the charges against them.”

Praxis had no idea what Demetrios meant by the trials. He even glanced at Lysandra, who seemed just as stumped as he. Whatever it was though, he guessed it wasn’t going to be easy. You didn’t just call them the trials if they were effortless.

Even still, Orcus seemed far from pleased.

“No trials!” he yelled, making a big display of waving his arms. “They need to die now! Before the next Spartan army comes through!”

Medios made a show of thinking through the suggestion before he spoke again. “The Spartans won’t be through this part of Arcadia anytime soon, not so quickly after the last campaign against Corinth. So this is possible if not entirely probable.”

“Let them face the trials together,” insisted Demetrios. “It is a suitable alternative for the laws that have been broken.”

All the elders turned to look at Medios, who was the one that was obviously the most senior. He glanced at Praxis and then back at Demetrios before giving his verdict.

“I’ll allow it,” replied Medios. “But this won’t be easy, Demetrios. The elders and I will come up with the trials they will face this evening, and we will return in the morning to lay them at your feet. We won’t hold anything back though. They should be ready for the worst.”

“They will be,” promised Demetrios. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“One more thing,” added Medios. “Whatever fate they have in the trials will also be your fate. You’re now tied to them, as is Rastus. If they succeed, you’ll get off. If they don’t, then you will perish alongside them. Do you understand?”

“I understand perfectly,” replied Demetrios quietly.

“Very well. We will be back in the morning,” said Medios as they all exited the door. Orcus came along reluctantly, the creature obviously disappointed at the lack of bloodletting. Before they could leave for good, Medios stuck his head inside once more.

“Don’t let them try to escape,” he warned Demetrios. “Or I will kill all of you as well as having your house burned down. Lastly, I will piss in the ashes.”

As if that warning wasn’t ominous enough, Medios nodded his head. “Tomorrow morning, be ready.”

Just like that, he was gone.

Praxis was still itching to show Orcus just what his sword could do and took several steps closer to the door in anger. Demetrios restrained him however.

“It’s no use going outside right now,” he told Praxis. “Orcus is out of your reach. The only thing we need to do now is prepare. Prepare for the trials.”

“What are the trials, Demetrios?” asked Lysandra. “Is this some kind of contest to test our abilities?”

Demetrios nodded. “Yes and no. It’s an ancient tradition of this village, going back longer than anyone can remember. The trials started as an alternative to punishment. Instead of certain death, any young man or woman could earn their freedom by a showing of athletic skill coupled with martial prowess. The trials were designed to allow the best of us to have a second chance in case of trouble, however it hasn’t always worked out that the trials were survivable.”

“What chance do we have?” asked Praxis.

Demetrios closed his eyes. “I’ll be honest with you, Praxis. This might seem like an alternative but it was the only thing I could do to stop Medios. The trials have been so tough that no one in recent memory has survived them. I think Medios only agreed to them because he thinks you’ll lose, like everyone else has, and he’ll still get what he wants. I’m afraid all I’ve done is delay the inevitable.”

“But we don’t know what the trials will be yet, right?” asked Praxis. “They still have to come up with them? So they’re not the same every time?”

“That is correct but Medios will not make this easy on you. I fully expect him to come back with the worst ideas he can think of, if only to hasten your demise.” Demetrios hung his head. “I’m sorry, Praxis. I’ve signed you up for something that you’re not ready for. Especially not in this condition where you’re still healing. I’ve done you a great disservice today.”

Praxis put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “You bought us time that we didn’t have. I think if you would have refused, they might have attacked us right now. At the end of the day, I’d rather be in charge of my own fate than let someone else dictate it. At least the trials will let me do that.”

“Let us do that,” corrected Lysandra. “We both have to face them, don’t we?”

Demetrios swallowed heavily. “That is correct. I’m sorry to both of you but this was the only way. Praxis, Lysandra has to join you for all of them. You’re a team in this, and she has to share in your victory and your defeat.”

That last part made Praxis more nervous than he was before. It was one thing to face death on his own—he’d done it a hundred times or more. It was quite another to drag Lysandra into it, especially someone who didn’t know how to fight.

Quite suddenly, Praxis was anxious for what tomorrow might bring. And what these trials would be.

Would they have the strength necessary to complete them?

Or would they take them down just like all the others before them?

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