The following morning was the last one that Praxis spent in Corinth. The return to the city, alongside the killing of Telestes, coincided with the expiration of his two-week exile from Argos.

It was a bittersweet feeling to leave the city, especially considering that Praxis rather liked Corinth. There were the occasional hard feelings in the city, mostly connected with Astara, but for the most part, he enjoyed living there as well as the friendship he’d struck up with Agemon.

“Safe travels to you, my friend,” said Agemon, offering a firm hand that morning just before his departure. “You’ll have to keep in touch once you get back to your city.”

“I will do that,” replied Praxis. “And you’ll have to stay out of trouble while I’m there. No more killing Spartans or losing your legendary temper.”

Agemon grinned with pride. “I can promise you my temper will not lose so easily but as for killing Spartans, well, there won’t be any Spartans left in Corinth after today.”

That was certainly true, and Praxis had heard the rumor of their departure this evening to go back to Sparta. Cypselus was quite satisfied to see them go as were the rest of the people of Corinth, eager to be freed of their occupational tyranny.

“Let’s hope they never come back,” said Praxis, nodding his head. “And that Corinth will be truly free moving forward.”

Agemon waved his hand. “I have a feeling it won’t be that easy. This was merely the first stage of the game. I’d rather hope the next stage goes to our plan as well. But if the Spartans come for Corinth, I’ll be ready for them.”

“You’ll be ready,” corrected Praxis. “But the rest of your people might not be. You ought to train them. Turn them into a formidable fighting force. If every Corinthian fought like you, your city would be invincible.”

Agemon’s chin rose. “Not everyone in the city can fight like me. I’m the best of the best, you know that.”

Praxis started to chuckle. “Yes, I know. But with your help, you can turn bad warriors into mediocre ones. And you can turn mediocre ones into good ones. The better prepared you are for war, the better your chances are at surviving to see the end of it.”

“Is that what you do with the Argive forces? Is that why you train them so hard?”

Praxis nodded. “Argos has always had very aggressive neighbors. From the primitive Cynurians to the dominant Spartans, our warriors have had to answer the call of defense too many times. It certainly helps when their skills are better than their enemy’s.”

“I will train them then, like you do,” promised Agemon. “That way, when this talk of an alliance with King Nicomedes of Messenia comes into fruition, he’ll find an army of Corinthians ready to uphold their freedom.”

Praxis pursed his lips. “Do you really believe Cypselus when he says the Messenians are offering an alliance? My stepfather has dealt with the Messenians for a long time. They disdain alliances with other cities, even to their detriment. A Messenian promise doesn’t hold a lot of weight to me.”

Agemon shrugged. “I’m not sure but I’m inclined to believe Cypselus. If it falls through, then what else can we do? There are still other cities that might resist Spartan hegemony.”

Praxis wasn’t so sure about that, especially if they were talking about other cities on the Peloponnese. Sparta, Argos, Corinth, and Messene (the capital city of the Messenians) were the four most dominant cities. Everything else, like Cynuria, or Olympia in Elis or Sicyon in Achaea, were much smaller, almost the same size as Megara.

Quite frankly, there weren’t any other lands of size that could tip the balance of the scales against the Spartans if the Messenians didn’t cooperate.

Praxis didn’t verbalize his doubts though. He wanted to believe that the Messenians were coming around, and they had a chance against the Spartans, even if it was a small one.

Hope was a lot more palatable than despair.

“No matter what shakes out, you’ll always have a friend in Argos,” said Praxis finally, putting his hand on the big Corinthian’s shoulder. “And if you ever find yourself in my city, you’ll need to come to the palace.”

Agemon grinned. “I think I’d come just so I can knock around that stepbrother you told me about. From the sounds of things, I could use it as an opportunity to put him in his place.”

Praxis started to laugh. “I’d pay to see that happen.”

“As would I. Anyway, safe travels, my friend. By the next time you see me, big things will be afoot,” promised Agemon before leaning closer. “And hopefully, Cora will be my woman by that time. I have a speech ready to give to her and everything.”

Praxis raised his eyebrow. “What kind of speech?”

Agemon held up his hands. “It goes like this—hello, beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Agemon let out several fake laughs as part of the sketch. “Would you happen to know where I can get several wagonloads full of shit?”

Praxis recoiled backward. “Horn of Hades, why would you possibly ask her about where to find a wagonload of shit, Agemon?”

The big man never stopped beaming with a smile. “Her family owns a farm outside the city. I’m sure they have plenty of shit from their animals. And it’s good fertilizer all the same. It’s the perfect entry into further conversation with her!”

Praxis gave him a weird look. “But what would you do with all that shit? You don’t own a farm, Agemon. Even if she gave it to you, what would you do with it?”

Agemon opened his mouth and then paused, the smile finally dropping from his face. He struggled for a moment to find the right words before he admitted defeat. “Maybe I should try another angle.”

Praxis couldn’t contain his laughter. “Just start with her name. Don’t commit to buying anything from her family, no matter how good it sounds in your head.”

“I still have much to learn about women,” said Agemon a bit too honestly. “But hopefully, there is still time for me.”

“I hope so too,” replied Praxis. “Take care, Agemon. I will see you soon enough. Stay out of trouble!”

The big Corinthian waved at Praxis as they separated and Praxis made his way to the western city gate.

Traveling at this time of the day meant falling in behind one of the many trading caravans that were heading toward Argos, and Praxis found one smaller one that was making good time. Unlike the first journey to Corinth, the return trip had nothing out of sorts. There wasn’t a hint of any bandits, although Praxis wasn’t naive enough to think they were gone forever.

Not with the way Damian ran Argos. A temporary reprieve was all that had been earned for the travelers between the two cities.

It was close to dark by the time Praxis saw the familiar city gate of Argos. He greeted two of the guards standing watch, men under the employ of Damian who belonged to the household guard, and one of them escorted him to the palace.

Not surprisingly, the first familiar face he saw at the palace was his mother’s.

“My son!”

Doris swept into her son’s arms and he held her against his chest for several moments as she wept with happiness.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” she said once she let go, looking into his eyes.

Praxis was certainly glad to see her as well but she didn’t look that great. She looked like she’d aged two years in the space of two weeks, and for a woman of her age, that was saying a lot.

“Mother, you look exhausted,” said Praxis, his hand touching her silver hair. “Are you not feeling well? What has you so down?”

Doris gave him a small but exhausted smile. “You know the Feast of Hera starts this week, Praxis. All the accommodations for the feast have fallen on my shoulders, and I’m not exactly as young as I look. This year’s feast really has me feeling my age.”

“Well, we need to get you some help then,” said Praxis. “You need some time to rest. You can’t do it all yourself.”

Doris waved her hand. “But that’s the only way I know that things are getting done the way I want them. In any event, it’s quite all right, Praxis. The Feast will begin in two days, at which point I can get some rest. My ordeal is almost over.”

Praxis wasn’t that relieved to hear that. Even two more days at this pace would run her ragged.

“Still, I will find you some good help,” he promised. “Anyone that might be able to lessen your burden.”

“You can do that but I guarantee she won’t use them,” came another familiar voice.

Praxis looked up to see Damian entering the room. His stepfather had none of the warmth of his mother as he approached. Quite honestly, he looked almost disappointed to see that Praxis was now home.

“I trust you didn’t get into too much trouble in Corinth?” asked Damian, his eyebrow arched. “Or did you manage to get yourself exiled there too?”

“I managed to make some new friends while in Corinth,” announced Praxis. “Which reminds, Stepfather, I would like to have a word with you about some business that came about in the city.”

“Bad business?” asked Damian. “Because I’m already up to my eyeballs in bad news and I don’t need any further.”

Praxis shook his head. “Nothing of the sort. Just an offer that was extended to me that I promised would get to you.”

Damian started to shake his hand. “I don’t have the time to listen to any offers right now. I still have much to do and not enough time to do it. It’ll have to wait.”

Praxis bit his lip. “How long? Can we speak tomorrow morning?”

“No, I have things to do. How about tomorrow after the family dinner?”

“What family dinner?” asked Praxis as he looked over at Doris.

“Did you already forget, Praxis? Tomorrow’s meal will be for our family alone, a way for us to celebrate the start of the feast. It’s another reason why I’m glad that you’re back today. I didn’t want to see us eat without you.”

“So then after we eat dinner?” pressed Praxis. “I don’t want to hold onto this offer for too long, Stepfather. It’s something you need to hear.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Fine, after dinner then. I’m sure one more big surprise for the day won’t be too bad.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Praxis, his curiosity piqued.

Damian looked him right in the eye. “Xanthos wants the entire family gathered tomorrow for dinner as well. He has a big announcement to make, one that he assures me will be quite ground-breaking.”