Chapter 71: Chapter 71: Fire and Water

Praxis was momentarily frozen in fear.

He didn’t know what to do. At that very moment, one of the bandits had a spear pointed directly at Lysandra's exposed back. Any wrong move could see her life snuffed away in the blink of an eye.

“Drop your weapons now!” repeated the bandit while pushing the spear against her harder. “I’m not going to tell you again! Drop the weapons or this redheaded bitch gets a trip to Hades. Your choice.”

“Don’t hurt her,” said Zenais, surprising Praxis with her concern. “We don’t mean you any harm.”

The bandit actually started to cackle. “Yeah, like you could do me harm. You’re almost as pretty as she is! That sword looks a little big for you, sweetheart.”

Before anything else could happen, Praxis heard the sound of voices. The rest of the thieves were coming back, driven by the sound of their compatriot’s voice.

“Well, look what we have here!” grunted one of them as he stepped behind Praxis. “It looks like Phemius has found us some fresh meat!”

“Phemius, you were going to share, won’t you?” asked another. “You know how much I love blondes!”

“That’s for the king to decide,” growled Phemius as he placed his foot against Lysandra’s head. “Weapons, damnit! I’m tired of asking! Do it now!”

“Okay, okay,” replied Praxis as he grabbed his sword. “Just don’t hurt her and you can have them.”

“You don’t give the orders here, we do,” replied Phemius. “Toss your shield down too.”

While Praxis was busy disarming, Zenais was doing the same. Except, she was going much more slowly than he was. The other men weren’t watching her as closely as they were Praxis, no doubt thinking she wasn’t as much of a threat, and that’s why they were all surprised by what she did next.

She turned and bolted into the night.

“Hey! Get back here! You stop right now, you stupid twat!”

Zenais sprinted just about as fast as her legs could go. Her split-second head start was enough to ensure she got out ahead of the men, and her knowledge of the terrain ensured that she stayed ahead of them.

She was gone before they could admit defeat.

“Horn of Hades, you fools let the blonde go! I ought to slit all of your throats!” replied the man that was the leader of the group, a man who Praxis soon figured out was called Ismenios. “The king isn’t going to be pleased by this!”

“It’s fine, Ismenios! We still have the redhead,” replied Phemius as he pulled Lysandra to her feet. “One cunt is better than none!”

“We could have had two cunts,” growled Ismenios. “The king will hear about this. And he will know about your failure to capture her.”

They continued to bicker amongst themselves while Praxis tried to figure a way out of this. Zenais showed no signs of coming back, and he doubted he’d ever see her again with how quickly she took off.

That meant it was just him against ten men, all the while they held Lysandra’s life in the balance.

Not great odds to say the least.

Praxis considered trying to outrun them but he knew that any delay that came from freeing Lysandra would inevitably work against them.

He was out of time and out of numbers.

“Okay, let’s move out,” replied Ismenios. “I’m tired and ready to start drinking, and we’re still a ways from the hideout!”

“What are we going to do with him though?” asked one of the bandits, pointing at Praxis. “We going to kill him?”

Ismenios walked over to where Praxis was and appraised him carefully. He looked down at the discarded shield at his feet and picked it up.

“This is a nice shield for a peasant,” said Ismenios with a sneer. “You rob this off of another man?”

“I earned it with my fighting prowess,” replied Praxis coolly. “Which you’re about to see for yourself.”

“Is that right? Then I don’t feel so bad about doing this.”

With one smooth motion, Ismenios whipped the shield back and brought it crashing against Praxis’ face. At that moment, Praxis was knocked to the ground as his head exploded with pain. He felt his hands reaching up to touch the area where he was hit and felt an instant, wet warmth.

Blood. His blood.

“That should take care of our new friend here,” replied Ismenios as he walked away. “Come on, let’s go! Bring the redhead and let’s move out!”

The last thing Praxis heard before he lost consciousness was Lysandra screaming his name.

*****

It was the feeling of something trickling down his face that made Praxis awaken the next day. He put his fingers to his forehead, expecting to pull them away and see his own blood but to his surprise, there was only water there. He could feel the crusty mess that the blow from his shield produced the night before but the rest of the blood was gone. Why?

As soon as he sat up, the pain hit him. His head felt like it was literally being pulled apart by the gods, so splitting was the sensation that the wound produced. It got so bad that Praxis felt like he couldn’t see straight for a moment, and that was why he missed the fact that he wasn’t alone.

“I’d say good morning but then again that wouldn’t be entirely accurate today.”

Praxis turned around to see that Zenais was with him. She was casually sharpening the blade of her sword, only pulling her eyes up to look at him every few seconds. Near her feet were the remains of several strips of cloth, all of it stained with blood.

“You might be able to guess but I cleaned your wound this morning,” said Zenais. “They really got you pretty good. I’m guessing it still hurts.”

Praxis groaned as he held his head. “No, it feels wonderful. What gave it away?”

Zenais rolled her eyes. “Typical of men not to admit when they’re in pain.”

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“It was a joke, Zenais. Obviously I’m in pain. My head feels like an army just used it for target practice.”

“It must not feel that bad if you’re still capable of humor,” she grumbled. “Although, you did manage to let them get away with Lysandra.”

“I managed to let them get away?” he growled, hopping to his feet. “Perhaps it wouldn’t have happened if someone didn’t run away at the first sign of trouble.”

Zenais shrugged. “We couldn’t have won a battle with our odds the way they were. Running was the best thing for us to do. I’m surprised I didn’t hear your footsteps behind me.”

“You’d think I’d just abandon Lysandra? She’s like a wife to me. You have no idea the kind of things we’ve been through.”

“I’m just saying that a big, strong man like yourself ought to have been able to save your wife.”

“Now, listen here,” growled Praxis, jumping to his feet. “We were doing just fine before you came along. It was your campsite that caused us to be discovered. More than likely, they were looking for you. You seem to have a lot of knowledge about this King’s Band and we’ve been drawn into your mess.”

Zenais pursed her lips. “Maybe it was the racket that you made gathering firewood that led them to us. Do you always blame someone else for your mistakes?”

“Fuck this,” barked Praxis. “This isn’t worth it.”

He began to gather up his things, at least what was left of them. His sword, shield, spear, and cuirass were all missing but then again, that wasn’t exactly a surprise.

What was a surprise was that Zenais appeared to be readying herself to leave as well. He shot her a scowl once he noticed it.

“What are you doing?”

Zenais shrugged. “Going with you, of course.”

“Of course? Why of course? There’s no reason for us to mingle any more than we already have.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And what do you plan to do about Lysandra?”

“Rescue her, of course.”

“With no weapons? No shield? No armor?”

Praxis growled. “I’ll figure something out. I won’t leave her to suffer in the hands of those bandits.”

“You need my help,” said Zenais. “I have an extra sword that you can use. Two swords are better than one.”

Praxis eyed her spare sword warily. “Why should I trust you? What faith do I have that you won’t bolt at the first sign of trouble again?”

She rolled her eyes. “This is land that I know very well. I know where those bandits hide and I know their approximate strength. Like it or not, you need me.”

“I don’t need anything. The only thing I need is to get Lysandra back.”

Zenais actually smiled. “Then we’re after the same purpose.”

That statement only served to make him more irritated. “Why do you even care? Lysandra isn’t a lesbian! There is no scenario where she ditches me for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Just like all men to put words in the mouths of their women,” scoffed Zenais. “I’ll let Lysandra make that decision, thank you very much.”

“You’re fucking delusional,” grunted Praxis.

“And you’re a stubborn mule,” she retorted. “But like it or not, we’re better off working together. I have some skills with a weapon, as you’re quite aware.”

Praxis regarded her coldly. He already didn’t care for Zenais for many reasons, chiefly the way she ran from trouble but also because of her pursuit of Lysandra. But he couldn’t deny that she was proficient in how she speared that deer the night before. He could always use her help and send her on her way if she proved to be more trouble than she was worth.

She did have one point though—two swords were better than one.

“Fine,” grumbled Praxis. “You can come with me to free Lysandra.”

“So happy to have your permission,” she replied sarcastically.

“But let’s get one thing straight,” he continued. “We work as a team. That means not running away without the other person knowing beforehand. That means coordinating together. That also means cool it with the insults. We might not have to like each other but we have to work together. Got it?”

“I can set my ego aside very easily,” replied Zenais. “Can you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“And if I am worried about you? What then?”

Praxis glared at her. “We’re already bickering and we haven’t even left the campsite yet.”

At least that statement seemed to knock some sense into Zenais. She took a deep breath and tossed her sword to him. “Very well. Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover and not long to do it. Let’s get moving.”

“Gladly,” grumbled Praxis. He grabbed his things while Zenais did the same. She pointed him toward the south, where there was a ragged patch of mountains that looked especially foreboding.

“Follow my lead,” said Zenais, stressing each word while she said it. The message back to him was crystal clear—Zenais was in charge.

What kind of mess had he gotten himself into?

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