Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Just Desserts

Lysandra was insatiable.

Every time that Praxis thought she finally had enough, she surprised him by rolling over and mounting him again. The woman was like the personification of Aphrodite—boundless energy and always willing for the next round.

It was as the sun was rising that Praxis had to put his foot down.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” he asked, inspecting his worn-out member in the process. His manhood had never looked so battered, but then again, he’d never fought a battle as intensely as he did the previous night.

Lysandra could only let out a coy giggle. The blankets had been pushed low, exposing her from the waist up. The two lovely mounds on her chest sported several reminders of Praxis’ mouth, and even now her nipples were a deep shade of maroon from all the attention.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lysandra while stroking his thigh. “Did I ride you too hard last night?”

“Not for the first five times,” quipped Praxis. “But a man must rest every now and then. Besides, I’m quite certain I have no fluids left in my entire body because of you. Are you always this . . .”

“Hungry?” interrupted Lysandra, her eyes bold with desire.

“Relentless,” corrected Praxis, a grin spreading on his face.

She took a deep breath as her eyes rolled up in thought. “I’ve had other lovers in the past. Most of them were quick to mount me and even quicker to finish.” Her hand moved north, sliding against his chest hair. “You actually stayed with me. You showed me the same energy that I usually have. Most men can’t say that.”

“So you thought you’d kill me to restore the status quo?” joked Praxis.

She playfully swatted at his chest and made to leave the bed before Praxis grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. He kissed her and moved his body so that he was once more on top of her, pinning her to the soft surface.

Any other woman might have been miffed at the way he manhandled her. Not Lysandra.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and a smile grew on her face.

She really did just want to be conquered.

Though Praxis figured she did as much conquering last night as he did.

As they laid there kissing, Praxis heard the sounds of horns in the distance. His body stiffened and he turned his attention to the sound.

The army call for training.

“I have to go,” he said, forcing a pout onto her face.

“Right as we’re getting to the good part too,” she whimpered.

“That’s the call for assembly,” he replied. “We train today. I have to get moving. I can’t be late; I’m already on thin ice as it is.”

Lysandra kissed him before rolling out of bed. She only stood with some difficulty. “It’s not often that I get out of bed and hobble. You broke me, Praxis.”

Praxis smiled. “You might want to practice walking correctly for a few minutes before you leave or you’ll be the talk of the whole city.”

“That’s the last thing I need,” she replied. She dressed quickly and made for the exit. “See you around? I hope there will be a repeat performance of last night.”

“I certainly hope so,” he answered. “Although give me a warning before we do it next time so I can have a hearty meal beforehand. I’ll need all the energy I can get.”

Lysandra swatted at his chest again, a smile worn prominently on her face. She waved as she left, leaving him alone.

Altogether, it wasn’t a bad evening. Yesterday had been filled with this two favorite activities—fighting and fucking. He could only hope today would have more of the same.

*****

It was nearly an hour later when Praxis arrived at the training ground, clad in his armor and sporting his spears, his shield, and his sword. He found about a hundred men already there, almost all of them already engaged in mock combat.

This group of men was the core of the army. While nowhere near a full muster of the entire city, this group represented the best-trained warriors that Argos had to offer. They drilled daily, practicing their moves and honing their abilities for the times when the wolf growled at the city’s door. During battle, they were expected to lead by example, showing the rest of the city their reserve of martial prowess and courage.

And almost to the man, they looked up to Praxis to show them that good example. Though Praxis wasn’t the oldest, he was certainly the most capable fighter with excellent reflexes and a skill that rivaled Ares himself.

Praxis quickly set about doing his own drills, selecting one of the wooden posts to work on his form. The wooden post was nothing more than a target, representing an enemy warrior in front of him. It was here that he practiced his skills with his sword and shield, soon attracting a small crowd as they watched his graceful movements.

After nearly an hour of training, they all stopped for a water break, and Praxis sat on the ground as he ditched his armor. It was much too hot already to be wearing it for a full day but he liked to wear it when he trained.

“There you are, foreigner,” said a voice from behind him.

Praxis craned his head to see a young man in his mid-teens making his way toward him. Praxis squinted his eyes, not remembering his name but seeing something familiar about his face. There was something familiar about his red hair and the eyes but Praxis couldn’t quite place him yet.

“I can’t recall your name,” said Praxis, pushing to his feet. “Do we know each other?”

“Not yet, but we ought to now,” said the man, shaking Praxis’ hand. “My name is Lysander, the brother of Lysandra. You saved my life yesterday.”

“Ah, yes, Lysander then,” said Praxis. “I don’t remember saving your life though. Perhaps you have me mistaken.”

Lysander grinned. “No, it was you all right. Hard to miss you with that tall frame of yours. You were off to take down another Cynurian before I was even on my feet again but it was you. I thank you for that. I consider myself in your debt.”

“Believe me, there’s no debt,” replied Praxis. “I just did what anyone else would do.”

“Not entirely,” quipped Lysander, talking quickly. “The two men on either side of me saw me fall. Neither of them thought to help me to my feet, probably deciding I was already dead. You didn’t have to intervene but you did. For that I’m grateful. Or at least I was grateful until I heard about my sister. She didn’t come home until I was leaving this morning. I’m told you had something to do with that.”

There was always a catch.

“Yes, I was with your sister during the night,” said Praxis, looking around to make sure of his footing and his weaponry. Though he doubted that Lysander would try anything, some men took it a little too personally when they found out about his relations with their female family members.

Thankfully, Lysander wasn’t such a man. He grinned happily.

“At first, I was a little upset,” he said. “But then I heard it was with you, and my anger evaporated. My sister could do a lot worse! And she usually has.”

Praxis gave him an odd look, something that Lysander seemed to pick up on right away.

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“What I mean is that she usually doesn’t have the best pick of men,” he explained. “But not you though. She’s had her eye on you for some time.”

“Just how long?” asked Praxis.

Lysander’s eyes rolled up in thought. “Several months at least. She’d never admit it but I noticed it. In any event, are you two a couple now? Is she your woman?”

Praxis didn’t have the slightest idea how to answer that. While Lysandra has asked to meet up again, he highly doubted whether it would be anything more than just sex.

But how could he tell that to her brother without him getting upset?

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “We didn’t really talk about that. I don’t know where I stand with her.”

“I’m sure you’ll find out with time. When my sister gets her nails in a man, she scarcely lets go. For your sake, I hope she doesn’t annoy you too much.”

That made Praxis chuckle, especially as he remembered just how insatiable she was last night. Hardly the kind of behavior he would classify as annoying.

Before Praxis could respond, Lysander had already moved onto another topic.

“Do you think you could help me with my fighting?” he asked, lowering his voice so the men around them couldn’t hear. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be standing here today. I’m just not good enough to stand in the line, even against the Cynurians. I’d hate to think what would happen if we faced a real army.”

“Sure, why not?” replied Praxis as he grabbed his shield and sword. “Show me what you got. Attack me.”

Praxis expected more hesitancy out of young Lysander but the man grabbed his sword and quickly charged. For the next five minutes, Praxis used his shield and sword to fend off the other man’s attacks, making note of his fighting disposition, his footwork, and his habits.

And Lysander certainly wasn’t kidding. As one of the youngest members of the group, he had much to learn about proper fighting.

“Back up and set your feet,” said Praxis, using his shield to push off Lysander. “You go flying forward when you attack when you should advance more slowly, making sure of the ground between you and your enemy. Any advantage in speed is negated by being off-balanced.”

To his credit though, Lysander was a quick learner. Rather, he seemed like he wanted to learn, and he was more than willing to take direction and fix his bad habits.

“That’s it,” encouraged Praxis. “Now don’t forget your shield. Your shield is just as much an offensive weapon as it is a defensive one. Use your shield to push your opponent’s arm out of the way so you can land a killing thrust.”

“Like this?” asked Lysander.

The next move came so quickly that Praxis had little time to react to avoid being skewed. Their small bout was attracting a lot of attention now, with about a third of the warriors stopping to watch.

“Much better,” said Praxis before shaking his head. “But you left yourself overextended.”

A confused look appeared on Lysander’s face. “Huh?”

Praxis responded by jerking his shield to the left, taking Lysander’s arm with it. In the process, a soft target had opened up on his torso, which Praxis pointed out with his sword.

“A good warrior has a plan for when his main thrust doesn’t land,” explained Praxis, going back on guard again. “You need to always know what to do just in case your killing thrust gets blocked at the last second. Don’t overexpose yourself to land a killing blow.”

A look of determination appeared on Lysander’s face as he was determined not to let himself be so totally tossed around in front of the group. He launched an all-out attack in the next breath, showing that he’d been listening to everything Praxis said.

Praxis was forced back, using every skill that he had to keep the young man from overwhelming him. The sound of metal on metal rang out across the courtyard and there were several close calls from Praxis’ side.

However, the young man couldn’t keep up the intensity of the attack for very long. As soon as he started to get tired, he started to leave openings.

It was one such opening that Praxis exploited. Using his sword, he feinted against Lysander’s shield before coming in at an angle against the blade. The angle of the attack caused Lysander’s grip to fail, dropping his sword. The younger man backed up, using only his shield for protection but Praxis had him.

One good thrust with the shield had Lysander rushing to block a thrust that never came. The thrust that did come was aimed right at his heart.

Just like that, the fight was over.

Funny enough, all the boy could do was grin.

“I almost had you!” said Lysander, causing the others to start laughing.

Praxis chuckled along with them. “You still have much to learn. But you have great promise. There’s no reason why, with a little more practice, you can’t make your opponents tremble.”

Lysander reacted like he never heard a higher degree of praise. He made sure all of his friends heard the words, even as others surrounded Praxis, wanting to know how he made it all look so effortless.

Theron, who was nearby, even noticed Lysander’s excitement.

“The kid acts like you’re the one that created the world alongside Zeus,” noted Theron. “I think you just gained a disciple for life.”

“And to think, it was his sister that I went home with last night,” muttered Praxis. “This could have gone an entirely different way.”

Theron chuckled. “Good for you then that he doesn’t hold a grudge!”

With the moment having passed, all the men got back to their training, but not for very long. Praxis was sparring off against Theron when he saw the familiar sight of Damian’s guards entering the courtyard.

“Here we go,” growled Praxis as he watched them march closer to him. “Now I get to pay for the little scuffle with Xanthos last night.”

“I’ve got your back if they try anything,” warned Theron.

“Don’t!” hissed Praxis. “No reason for you to go down with me. You still have a full life ahead of you.”

As it turned out, the guards greeted him more positively than they did the day before.

“Praxis of Argos, you are summoned to dinner tonight with King Damian,” informed one of the guards.

“Dinner? What kind of dinner?” asked Praxis, utterly surprised.

“A feast for the whole household,” replied the guard. “King Damian wishes to address his family.”

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