The voice came from a man that was surrounded by shadow. Praxis took a few steps closer until Agemon lit one of the candles, illuminating the speaker with light.

It was a face that Praxis had seen before, on his second day in Corinth, but only in passing.

It was the face of Cypselus, the new king of Corinth.

“You seem surprised to see me,” said Cypselus, taking in the shock on Praxis’ face.

“You’re the last person I thought I’d see tonight,” replied Praxis before turning to look at Agemon. “This is your patron, I take it?”

Agemon nodded. “He’s the king and because of that, he is the supreme leader of the Corinthian army to which I owe my allegiance.”

Praxis turned back to Cypselus, giving him a shrewd look. “Then what could you possibly want with me? I don’t even know how you know my name let alone know me enough to bring me here.”

“I know a lot about you already, Praxis,” said Cypselus, taking a step closer.

The King of Corinth had broad shoulders and short-cropped hair. His eyes were just a tad too far apart than what would be expected otherwise. His lips were thin and it looked like his nose had been broken in the past by how crooked it was.

“For example,” he continued. “I know that you are the stepson of King Damian of Argos, but not his natural son. I know you have an older stepbrother who is in line for the throne, while you seem to be destined to serve in the army forever. Not that this is a downfall on your part. You seem to have taken quite naturally to warfare and all its aspects, becoming the most feared and respected warrior in your city. And now you’re in my city, all because your stepfather is threatened by the exuberance of youth.”

Praxis was impressed. “You seem to know a lot then. You must have good spies in my stepfather’s house.”

“A power such as Corinth can’t rely on brute strength,” replied Cypselus, nodding to Agemon. “Men like him are few and far between. If Corinth is to survive, she has to rely on her wiles to do it.”

“You are remarkably well-informed but I’m still struggling to figure out what you’d want with me, even knowing my reputation. As you’ve already stated, I’ve been exiled from my own city. My influence there is at a nadir.”

Cypselus seemed to regard that comment for a moment before responding. “Fortunes are always changing, Praxis. One day, you might be on the top of the world. The next, you might be on the very bottom. Things have a way of working out if you can live long enough to see the next day. Are you getting what I’m saying?”

“I still don’t see how this affects me,” replied Praxis.

Cypselus cleared his throat and turned around, looking back at the courtyard. “Do you know that I haven’t ruled for very long in Corinth? That my reign here only started a few short months ago?”

“I know that you overthrew a man named Telestes but that’s about all the facts that I know,” said Praxis. “I don’t know why or how, but I assume it’s related to your metaphor about being on the top or the bottom of the world.”

“Telestes was a tyrant,” said Cypselus as a clear expression of disgust appeared on his face. “He wasn’t liked within the city, even by his own people. He neglected Corinth and the city grew poorer and weaker in his care. I know this because I was once one of his prefects. I saw the cruelty that he had within him, and even that it extended to his own family. He once put to death his own son for a simple disagreement. When I saw the neglect he had for the city, I acted to take it from him.”

“So you overthrew him,” said Praxis. “It was only natural, if he was as cruel as you describe. What happened to him?”

“He fled back to Megara, on the way to Athens,” replied Cypselus. “He has a power base there. For the time being, Corinth was free and I was free to attempt to put the city back to where it should be. But I’ve run into a problem, one that I can’t solve on my own.”

“What kind of problem?”

“A problem that I can’t just tell anyone,” said Cypselus, gesturing to Agemon who was now unsheathing his sword. “Forgive me, young man. Though I know of your name, I don’t have any way to prove you are who you claim to be. The Praxis that I heard of is the best warrior of Argos and before I tell you my biggest secret, you’re going to have to prove to me that you’re worthy of hearing it.”

Praxis took a step back as he eyed Agemon, who had now shed all of his earlier calm and friendliness. The look in Agemon’s eyes was one that Praxis recognized, seeing it the first day he arrived in Corinth.

The look of blood lust.

“If you want to hear more, you’re going to have to prove that you’re the man that I think you are,” said Cypselus, taking several steps back. He then gestured to Agemon. “Kill him.”

“What?” asked Praxis, confused.

He’d barely been able to get out that word before Agemon charged at him, swinging his sword down in a crushing arc that threatened to split him in two. Praxis leapt backwards, landing on his heel as he yanked his sword free and managed to block Agemon’s next thrust, which had been aimed right for his heart.

“You wanted a rematch, didn’t you?” growled Agemon. “Show me what you’ve got!”

Agemon’s next swipe threatened to spill the contents of Praxis’ stomach, but by this point in the fight, he’d finally gotten over his shock and was now fighting with all the skill that he possessed.

“Big mistake,” he warned Agemon as he made a lunge at him. “Really, big mistake you’ve just made in pissing me off.”

Praxis moved quickly, using his feet to shuffle from side to side, closing the distance between Agemon but appearing wider than he was. His speed was one area of advantage that he had over the blocky Corinthian, and the next lunge forced Agemon to dart to the side lest he be skewered by Praxis’ sword.

While they fought, Cypselus watched just beyond reach, saying nothing as the two men battered each other. Praxis already decided that he didn’t like the man, especially seeing as he was here in good faith.

Faith that had been quickly shattered by the fight.

“Stop looking at him and fight me!” roared Agemon, catching him off guard and slicing his sword against the tender skin of Praxis’ calf muscle. The cut was more for show than it was life-threatening, but it reminded Praxis that this was a serious fight. The key to moving forward was to defeat Agemon, and he couldn’t be caught unaware again.

Praxis centered his feet as he grabbed a bronze tray that could be used as a makeshift shield. The tray had previously been holding a cup of wine for Cypselus, but it was dumped to the floor in the process as Praxis held it in his left hand.

With the shield in place, Praxis went for the move that he’d practiced many times over. He charged at Agemon, using his shield to batter his opponent before launching into a devastating feint against his right side.

The feint lasted just long enough for him to bring his sword up and aim for a killing blow at the neck. Most opponents only realized the true nature of the attack once it was too late and their blood was already shooting out from their neck.

Luckily for Agemon, he managed to block it at the last second, but in the process, he lost all his footing. The big man crashed to the floor, landing on his back as his sword made a loud clang.

Praxis was on top of him in an instant, holding his sword against the big man’s neck.

“I told you I’d take the rematch,” growled Praxis, keeping his blade tight against the man’s neck.

“Bravo,” uttered Cypselus, taking a moment to clap his hands as he looked at Praxis. “Excellent job, Praxis. You did wonderfully. Forgive me for this crude request that I made of you. I had to be sure it was you.”

Praxis’ eyes narrowed as he glared first at Cypselus and back at Agemon. He noticed that the fight had gone out of Agemon’s eyes, and he managed to look docile again.

“You couldn’t have just taken my word that I am who I say I am?” roared Praxis. “You make me fight in this manner? Against him?”

“Forgive me,” said Cypselus humbly. “The request that I’m going to make of you needs to be for your ears only. I had to be sure it was you. You’ve proven it to me. Only Praxis of Argos could take down a man like Agemon, who is the pride of Corinth.”

With those words, Cypselus looked directly at Agemon. “You fought well today, my friend. Your glory isn’t tarnished in any way, I assure you. And I thank you for bringing him to me.”

Agemon only grunted as he managed to work his way to his feet, sheathing his sword. Seeing him do it didn’t put Praxis at ease.

He kept his sword drawn.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about now?” growled Praxis. “Or do I have to fight more of your minions to get another word out of you?”

“You’ve proven your point, Praxis,” said Cypselus. “And now that I know exactly who you are. I need your help.”

“Horn of Hades, you make me fight your best warrior and then you have the balls to ask for a favor? This better be a good one.”

Cypselus gave him a hollow look. “It’s in regard to the Spartans.”

That certainly got Praxis’ attention. “In what way?”

“Frankly, I need to get out of their alliance,” said Cypselus. “I do not wish to belong to their Peloponnesian League any longer.”

“Why not? Forgive me if I seem a little skeptical, but I would think being in is better than being out,” said Praxis.

“Normally, you would be right but the Spartans take liberties that they haven’t been granted. They treat us not like an erstwhile ally but like a conquered foe. Almost every day, my prefects report violence in the city because of the Spartan garrison, who think they can act with impunity against my citizens whenever it suits them. They help themselves to my treasury when desired, and now I’ve found that their garrison commander has raped the daughter of one of my most important political allies. In short, I need out of this alliance.”

“Nobody just leaves an alliance with the Spartans though,” countered Praxis. “They will invade Corinth and put your city to the sword. And then they will replace you with someone who is willing to be a puppet to them.”

Cypselus growled. “More than likely, they will invite Telestes to resume his control of the city. He was the one that put Corinth into the League, the loyal dog that he was. Unlike my predecessor, I don’t see as many advantages to being tied to the Spartans but I still need to maintain appearances, at least to protect my city. That’s why I have to leave this alliance in the most subtle way possible.”

“Subtle?” asked Praxis. “How can you do it subtly?”

Cypselus gave him a pointed look. “By finding allies with other like-minded states. Which brings me to the biggest question that I need to ask of you. It’s the reason that I brought you here today.”

“Well, go on,” said Praxis. “What is it?”

“Do you think King Damian would be interested in forming our own alliance against Sparta?”