Only three days after Doris’ funeral, the awful news came to Argos.

Praxis was training again, having resumed his morning ritual with the cream of the city’s warriors. Praxis found that only through aggression was he able to channel the pain of his mother’s passing, and it had made him all the more formidable in the process.

“Horn of Hades, Praxis, take it easy!”

Praxis found himself blinking as he stared down at his friend, Theron, who was now on his back and practically hiding behind his shield. His sword, which had been stripped away moments earlier, was lying helplessly in the grass.

“What’s gotten into you?” asked Theron, backing up slowly. “You’re fighting like a possessed man!”

Had he been? Praxis wasn’t entirely sure. Somewhere between the time the fight started and Theron ended up on his back, he’d gone into some kind of trance. It was like a momentary parting of body and mind where his instincts took over. How had he so easily lost control?

“I’m sorry, my friend,” said Praxis, tossing his sword down in order to extend a hand to Theron. “I’m not sure what came over me just now.”

Theron took his hand and jolted to his feet. A look of pain appeared on his face.

“You’ve been like this all morning,” said Theron. “You’ve never fought that hard before, even in battle against the Cynurians. Leandros still has a bloody nose from where you hit him with your shield. You know this is just practice, right?”

“I know, I know,” replied Praxis. “I shouldn’t go so hard. It’s just fighting is the only thing that can take my mind off my situation right now.”

“I grieve with you,” said Theron, putting his hand on Praxis’ shoulder. “But remember that we’re friends. If you keep trying to whoop my ass, I might have to make an example of you in front of everyone.”

That brought a smile to Praxis’ lips. He shrugged off his friend’s hand. “You’ll certainly try, but whether you’ll be successful? I doubt that.”

Theron was opening his mouth with another retort when the news came in the form of a runner from the city. Every warrior in Praxis’ group stopped what they were doing to listen to the news.

“The Spartan army is on the march! They are heading north to Corinth! War is here!”

The runner had no sooner belted out the news before heading back to the center of the city, telling anyone within hearing distance. Within an hour, the whole city would know.

“It’s finally here,” said Theron quietly. “This war that’s been developing for so long. The Spartans are on the march.”

The statement made Praxis’ stomach churn. “And now the only question is what will they do when they get to Argos? They need to pass by the city to reach Corinth. How will they treat our rejection of their alliance?”

“Not well, I’m guessing,” said Theron. “What do you want to do? Should we ready the entire army just in case?”

Praxis shook his head. “I think that’s the prudent move but let me talk with my stepfather. No doubt he’ll choose extreme caution in the face of danger. We won’t do anything until we have his word this time.”

As it turned out, the reaction Praxis received from Damian was exactly what he expected.

“Have you gone mad, boy?” scoffed Damian once Praxis made the request. “Ready the entire army? For what reason? Do you want to give the Spartans further reason to attack?”

“I want Argos to be prepared for the worst,” argued Praxis. “If the Spartans set up camp on the plain outside the city, there will be nothing to stop them from taking all of Argos. No doubt they’re probably still steaming about our refusal to join their alliance.”

“This is a further example of why you’re not ready to lead,” seethed Damian. “We need to show them no aggression at all. If they march to Argos and find our army ready to defend our city, they’ll think that we have hostile intent. It’s an invitation to attack for people like the Spartans! The only thing we can do is not to arm a single man. Let the Spartans see that Argos doesn’t desire a conflict with them. That we can resolve our issues peacefully.”

“The Spartans are not a peaceful people!” countered Praxis. “Diplomacy means nothing to them. Only force and subjugation do. When will you be able to see this?”

“Careful, boy,” warned Damian. “You’ve already been exiled once for this foolishness. And now your mother isn’t here to protect you. I’d choose my words wisely if I were you.”

Praxis raged on the inside. He found his fists tightening involuntarily, wanting to pummel Damian for his stupidity. As a leader, he’d gotten the character of the Spartans entirely wrong, and they would all pay the price for it.

Damian seemed to realize he’d crossed a fragile line and he recomposed himself a moment later.

“You are not to mobilize the army,” he said in a calm voice. “We will assume no hostile intent on behalf of the Spartans. They will pass by Argos on their way north to Corinth, where the war will be fought. Until then, there will be no repeat of the Cynurian affair. If I get one hint that you’re assembling the men for war, you’ll be exiled for life. Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly,” growled Praxis. What a coward.

“Good. Now leave me, I have business to attend to.”

Praxis stalked out of the room wanting to upturn every table on the way out. He could only think about what his mother had said before she died. Argos under Damian and Xanthos wasn’t going to be a proper home for him. And less than a week after her passing, her words were already bearing fruit.

But if he couldn’t count Argos as home, then where could he go?

*****

“Hera’s fiery ass, get those shields up, men! Look like the proud warriors of Corinth, why don’t you? Where’s your pride?”

Agemon of Corinth resisted the urge to sigh as he walked along the front ranks of the Corinthian army assembled right in front of him. More than fifteen hundred men had gathered on the grassy plain outside the city, mobilized to respond to the Spartan threat that was on the way north.

And they hardly resembled a proper fighting force.

Of all the great cities of Greece, Corinth had probably the weakest army. The men of Corinth were traders and farmers, those that weren’t well-suited to combat. Even more than that, most of them saw fighting as beneath them. Though they would answer the call when the city was in danger, they were low in morale and fighting spirit, which made their army quite poor in quality.

There was no hope that the men of Corinth could stand up to the might of Sparta, not on their own. Without a strong ally, they would be slaughtered quickly and Sparta would once more find herself in charge of the city.

But there was hope in Corinth, a hope of an unlikely ally who might be putting aside their neutrality to join the war against the Spartans. Cypselus was very positive about the prospects of Messenian aid in the form of an army led by King Nicomedes. Messenia was known for having a good army, one that when joined with the Corinth, might be enough to destroy the Spartans.

If only they had the Argives in their alliance as well. Agemon’s thoughts turned to his friend, Praxis, and his fighting prowess. An alliance of Corinth, Messenia, and Argos would be a formidable counter to Spartan power. If only the leadership of Argos hadn’t been so shortsighted.

Agemon shook his head. Those matters were beyond him. He was a warrior first and foremost, and it was his job to make sure the Corinthian army was as ready as possible to take on the Spartans. He hoped to lead them south along the road to Corinth, hopefully joining forces with the Messenians on their way east. All he was waiting for was word from Cypselus that the Messenian alliance had been cemented and it was time to march.

That was what Cypselus was doing at this very moment. The Messenian envoy had showed up this morning, and he was taken into a private meeting with the man so they could work out the details. The meeting had already taken an hour, and Agemon was hopeful it would be over soon so that they could get moving south to a rendezvous point with the Messenians.

That was why he was surprised to find that Cypselus had sent a runner to find him, asking Agemon to come see him back in the city. With confused thoughts, Agemon presented himself to the Corinthian monarch’s house while the rest of the army waited in the field.

Inside, he found Cypselus looking distraught. Something was clearly wrong.

“My king, what’s wrong?” asked Agemon, putting down his shield.

“News from Messenia,” said Cypselus, emphasizing the name of the western city. “Apparently, we’ve been misled.”

Agemon’s stomach dropped. “Mislead. How so?”

“King Nicomedes of Messenia has ruled against joining us in alliance against the Spartans,” replied Cypselus. “He claims a desire to maintain peaceful relations with the Spartans as well as to avoid any entanglements with other foreign powers.”

Agemon couldn’t help but grit his teeth as his anger took hold. “Horn of Hades, how could he say that! Wasn’t he the one that agreed to an alliance with us?”

“He was open to the idea, which is something I was very positive about,” replied a sullen Cypselus. “Normally, the Messenians aren’t approachable with any talk of alliances. When Nicomedes finally caved and said it might be possible, I was hopeful that we could overcome our differences. He has to know that the Spartans will eventually come for Messenia next.”

“So they’ve betrayed us,” raged Agemon. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“They have left us standing alone in our time of peril,” answered Cypselus. “I should’ve known better, Cypselus. I should’ve known better than to trust the Messenians to change. Nicomedes is still the poor fool he’s always been. Afraid to fight.”

“My king, we can’t fight the Spartans on our own. I know we counted on having the Argives or the Messenians standing with us but without either of them, we can’t hold the Spartans with just our army. We’re going to lose the fight!”

Cypselus put his fingers in his eyes. “I know, Agemon, I know. Time is running out for Corinth and we’re lacking in allies. I’ve sent runners out to other cities. Athens, Thebes, and Olympia are the ones I’m seeking aid from.”

Agemon’s stomach sank further. Olympia was a weak city with a small army, and Athens and Thebes didn’t get involved with matters on the Peloponnese. In effect, it meant they were going to stand alone.

“What can I do to help us, my king? Is there anything at all I can do to help our cause?”

Cypselus closed his eyes momentarily and then shook his head. “Just prepare the army, Agemon. I need our men ready to fight the Spartans when they arrive. If this is to be our last stand, then we will give them everything we have before our city falls.”

Tears fell from Agemon’s eyes. “Everything we have, my king. And nothing less.”