“Dion is dead. And so is another Spartan. That’s not the worst of it. Telestes is involved and he has escaped as well.”

The words tasted incredibly foul coming out of Praxis’ mouth as both he and Agemon stood before Cypselus a short while later. It was still the middle of the night, and they found the king of Corinth pacing around the inner chamber of his house, no doubt awaiting their results.

Cypselus’ reaction was expected.

“How could that be?” raged the king. “Your orders were to take him alive! And where did Telestes come from? How could he have gotten away? He’s just an old man!”

Agemon stepped forward. “It is my fault, Cypselus. Telestes is more wily than he appears. He managed to slip out of the bind around his hands. After he distracted us by tossing a knife to Dion, he slipped into the shadows. I couldn’t see him until he was already down the road to Megara. He is gone. The only thing that I’m left questioning is why Dion took his own life.”

“He did it because he knew his life was over anyway,” said Praxis. “He thought we were there to kill him for the rape and then he found out we knew about Telestes. He wasn’t going to be long for this world, and if we managed to kill him the way we wanted to, his countrymen would never know better. He did what he did to raise the alarm. One last act of defiance before death.”

“Blessed Demeter, what have you two gotten me into,” said Cypselus, putting his head in his hands. “Now I have two dead Spartans on my doorstep and my rival for the throne of Corinth has fled the city. Things could not get any worse than this.”

“Let us bring him back,” offered Praxis, forcing Cypselus to look in his direction. “We can go retrieve Telestes from Megara and bring him back here.”

Cypselus started to rub his chin. “Megara is a day’s travel away. And there’s no telling if he’ll stop there or continue onward to Athens or beyond.”

“He’ll most likely stop there,” said Praxis. “He won’t slow down anytime soon, especially if he thinks that Agemon and I are hot on his heels. And we know he has a house in Megara. He admitted it to me on the way here. He will do anything he can to take power in Corinth again. He doesn’t have a high opinion of you.”

Cypselus snorted. “No, I don’t imagine that he does. Even when I was still his prefect, he didn’t have a good word to say about me. Either way, it’s not of any consequence now. Are you men sure that you’re willing to go to Megara to fetch him? I wouldn’t ask you to do it if you weren’t willing.”

“I’m willing,” offered Praxis. “He got away on our watch, right? Let us make it right. It’s the least we can do.”

Cypselus nodded and turned to look at Agemon. “What do you say, Agemon? Will you go to Megara as well?”

“Praxis speaks for both of us,” answered Agemon. “I’m embarrassed that I let Telestes get the best of me. It won’t happen again. I’ll bring him back to Corinth either dead or alive.”

“I’ll pay you both for it,” offered Cypselus. “I’ll even chip in more than I offered for this previous mission. Getting rid of Telestes is a much better result than even the Spartans—he’s more dangerous in the long term. But we also have the complicated matter of what to do about these two dead bodies. The Spartans are going to be asking questions soon enough. What should I tell them?”

“It’s impossible for us to make it look natural now,” said Praxis. “Especially with the stab wounds in both of them. The only thing we can do is dispose of their bodies in a way that no one will find them.”

“We can dump them in the sea,” suggested Agemon. “If we grab some heavy rocks and tie them to their bodies, they will sink to the bottom without a trace.”

“You’ll have to move quickly,” replied Cypselus. “Otherwise, the garrison here in the city will see you and suspect what you’re doing. We’ll also need something to tell them. Two men don’t just abscond in the night.”

Praxis thought about the statement for a moment before an idea hit him. “They might do that if they were lovers.”

Cypselus and Agemon both looked at him.

“What?” asked Agemon.

Praxis shrugged. “When the Spartans come asking about the two men, we can tell them a rumor that they were seen leaving the city together, hand in hand. Perhaps they were lovers that wanted more than to live a life in secret in the army. We know that Spartan men will go after the younger ones as part of their custom, a disgusting custom I might add. It’s not too much to believe they might flee the city to live a life together of their own choosing.”

“The Spartans will find that hard to believe,” said Cypselus, judging the offer.

“Let them believe what they want,” replied Praxis. “As long as they don’t have their bodies, they will know nothing more. And it will keep them from suspecting any foul play on your part. That way, the garrison is still summoned home for a new commander and Corinth will be free of their influence.”

Cypselus grunted. “For good this time, we can hope. As soon as those Spartans get out of my city, I intend to repudiate the alliance before they even get back to their city.”

“Well, now’s your chance,” said Praxis.

“Good, I will spread the rumors with the guards at the eastern gate,” replied Cypselus. “They are my people and they will do as I ask. Meanwhile, the two of you need to find a small boat and some large stones. Dispose of those Spartans, and then get your asses to Megara.”

*****

It took both Praxis and Agemon the rest of the overnight hours to find the boat and the stones. They rowed out into the middle of the Gulf of Corinth before they used what rope they could borrow from Cypselus, tying large stones to the bodies of the two Spartans. With simple splashes, both bodies fell into the ocean and quickly sank, only leaving a few bubbles of escaped air to mark their passage.

Just as the sun was coming up, the boat was coming to a rest in the sand.

“I wonder if Cora likes boat rides,” said Agemon as they stepped onto the shore.

Praxis chuckled. “I doubt she would have liked that one. It’s hard to see the romance in the air when you’re dumping bodies in the sea.”

Agemon barely heard him. “I wonder if she would go out on one with me when we get back from Megara. That would be memorable, I think.”

“Memorable indeed. But you’d need to remember that you’d be alone with her for the better part of an hour, or more.”

Agemon narrowed his gaze. “Why would I need to remember that?”

“Because you’d need to fill that time with talking,” said Praxis, grinning. “And that seems to be your Achilles’ heel with her right now.”

Agemon quickly paled as he thought about having to fill an hour with conversation.

“Maybe I should just work my way up to asking her name in the market,” said the big Corinthian.

Praxis chuckled. “That’s probably the best next step to take. Come on, let’s get some sleep and then get on the road to Megara. Telestes already has enough of a head start on us.”

“He won’t for long,” vowed Agemon with determination in his eyes. “By the gods, we’ll bring him back to Corinth and my city will finally be free. We’re almost there, Praxis.”

Praxis didn’t say anything to that statement. He hoped it would be that simple to set Corinth free from the Spartans.

He only hoped that he’d never have to face the same question in regards to Argos.

*****

“Keep the noise down! You move like Heracles stomping with wooden shoes!”

Xanthos of Argos was already scowling. His heart was beating out of his chest and this Spartan envoy was moving throughout the palace as if he owned the place.

Secrecy was the key to their meeting so why was he being so noisy?

“I do not like having my time wasted, Xanthos, son of Damian,” came the booming voice of Dorrusas, the Spartan envoy to Argos. “And it seems that my business in Argos is already over. I would be back in Sparta now if not for your message. Why do you delay me?”

Xanthos crossed his arms in front of his chest. He looked around the darkened room, as if trying to assuage his soul that there were no listeners to what he was about to say.

“You know why I called you back,” replied Xanthos quietly. “My father turned you down, didn’t he? He didn’t want to pay the cost of joining the Spartan alliance.”

Dorrusas looked annoyed. “If you called me back only to recount to me a meeting that I already attended, I think I’ll use your bones to sharpen my sword.”

“That’s not necessary,” said Xanthos, taking a step back. “My father is . . . a confused, old man. He doesn’t realize that the world is changing. He has no notions of the nature of power anymore. He’s gone soft in his old age.”

“Such is the fate of old men,” muttered Dorrusas. “All except Spartan men, who remain wise until the day they die.”

“I do not wish that to be my fate,” grumbled Xanthos. “I would see Argos into the Peloponnesian League, under Spartan leadership.”

“Tell that to your father then,” replied Dorrusas. “Unless you have some kind of power to make him change his mind, he turned us down. I would almost pity you Argive dogs. Spartan power is taking over the entire Peloponnese, and you will be left in the dust. When all the city-states of the Peloponnese recognize Spartan leadership, we will return to Argos and destroy your city. All because of your short-sighted king.”

Xanthos swallowed hard, choosing his next words wisely. His next statement could see him killed if heard by the wrong ears.

“What if there was another way?” he whispered. “What if I could promise you that a new king in Argos would accept your alliance? What if that new king overthrew the old one in order to usher in the Spartan alliance? What would you say to that?”

Dorrusas glared at him, seemingly to question whether or not the offer was genuine.

“You would overthrow your own father just to gain power in your city?” the Spartan questioned.

Xanthos nodded. “His time is now over. He just doesn’t know it yet. If you support my bid for power in Argos, I will enter the alliance. I will recognize Spartan leadership.”

Dorrusas’ lip curled upwards into a cruel smile. “Let’s talk about the details then.”