Praxis wasn’t sure he heard that correctly so he made Cypselus repeat the question.

“I’m talking about your stepfather, Damian. Would he be interested in forming an alliance with Corinth in the interest of creating an alternative to the Spartan-led Peloponnesian League?”

“You don’t know my stepfather, do you?” asked Praxis, shaking his head.

Cypselus managed to look confused. “No, no, I don’t which is why I’m asking—”

“Damian would never agree to something like that,” said Praxis quickly. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. His primary motivation is getting himself into that alliance, not remaining outside of it. He knows the Spartans are the greatest power in Greece, and he wets himself at the thought of disappointing them. No, you would sooner see Agemon here sprout wings and fly than to see Damian make a move against the Spartans.”

Cypselus wasn’t exactly pleased with the answer. “Are you sure it’s not worth reasoning with the man? I don’t know him well, like you’ve said, but surely the offer of Corinth standing by his side might sweeten the deal?”

Praxis shook his head. “It’s not as strong of an offer as you might think, only because Corinth is weak in the military sense. Don’t take that personally, either of you. Agemon is an accomplished fighter, I’ll give him that, but Corinth has a reputation for having the weakest army for a major power in Greece. It wouldn’t add much to the deal.”

“What you’re saying has a degree of truth to it,” said Cypselus. “Our forces are nowhere near where I want them to be. That’s something that I’m trying to remedy but it takes time.”

“Time that you don’t have, frankly,” added Praxis. “And that is exactly how Damian would look at that offer, let alone the madness about not entering the alliance.”

“So by your own words, I shouldn’t waste my time? It’s doomed to fail without even trying?”

“I know my stepfather,” said Praxis after a deep breath. “And I believe he would turn you down.”

“So would you accept my offer then? If you were king?”

Praxis winced. “I’ve learned that what I think is right and what my stepfather thinks is right are two different things.”

“But would you? Would you accept it?”

Praxis shrugged. “It’s better than standing alone, isn’t it? I’m like you, Cypselus. I have no intention of being in a Spartan alliance. I see how they treat their allies and I know what it would mean for a city like Argos. It would be a loss of our sovereignty. I personally would welcome you and my first ask would be for you to train up that army so that you’re not as weak as you are now. But I’m not Damian.”

“Do you think you could intercede on my behalf?” asked Cypselus. “Would he listen to reason?’

Praxis actually started to laugh. “I’ve tried many times and have always gotten nowhere. Sometimes, I wonder why I still try. And I’m not exactly high on his list of favored people, even in the best of times. He won’t listen to me. He’s as stubborn as an old mountain goat, I’m afraid. His mind is quite set on this.”

Cypselus let out a deep sigh and started to crack the knuckles on one hand as he thought. Praxis remained quiet during the brief intermission but he had to wonder if he was going to get off easily in light of what the king wanted.

He would soon find out that wasn’t the case.

“I have to do something, Praxis,” said Cypselus quietly. “My rule depends on it. Now, I can’t prove this just yet but I believe the Spartan garrison in Corinth is trying to get my predecessor, Telestes, back into the city. I believe they mean to put him back on the throne since he was easier to control. I’m not going to let that happen. I need to get out of the alliance one way or another and removing the garrison is the first step in that process. It’s the only way I can be sure that Telestes doesn’t try to slit my throat just to get back on top.”

“You need a second option,” said Praxis. “I wouldn’t trust your hopes to Argos. That’s just not going to happen. In that case, how else would you get rid of the Spartans? You have a second option, don’t you?”

“I do,” replied Cypselus. “And it’s one that I would need your help with. As well as Agemon here.”

Agemon perked up, finally hearing something he hadn’t heard yet. “What are you asking for?”

“Do you remember when I mentioned a charge of rape by the commander of the Spartan garrison earlier?” asked Cypselus. “This commander, a man by the name of Dion, is one of the suspected ringleaders of the group that is trying to get Telestes back to power. And now I see an opportunity to strike back at him.”

“How will you do that? Are you going to publicly condemn him for it?” asked Praxis. “I can’t see that as a worthwhile method to bring him down. The Spartans won’t allow you to punish one of their own.”

“Right you are, Praxis,” replied Cypselus, giving him a keen look. “You have a good head on your shoulders. I can’t attack the matter publicly because of the backlash it might create but I can’t let the rape go unpunished either. I’ll lose one of my most critical supporters in the city. But, and this is a big but, what if some enterprising friends of the raped woman take matters into their own hands? Say they pay a visit to this Dion and make him disappear for what he did. Well, justice would most definitely be served, and if the Spartans are angry about it, I can plead innocence since I knew nothing about it. I have plausible deniability, do you see?”

“And let me guess,” said Praxis, gesturing to himself and Agemon. “You want the two of us to make him disappear?”

Cypselus smiled. “That was what I was thinking. I would only pit the two of you against the Spartan commander. He’s a formidable fighter, and I don’t have many men that can stand toe-to-toe with a Spartan.”

“But what would that buy you even if it succeeded?” asked Agemon. “So we take out the garrison commander? So what? The garrison is still here.”

“The Spartans will recall the entire garrison if the garrison commander dies,” replied Cypselus. “It’s part of their custom—a weird one at that. Once the leader dies, they all carry his body back to Sparta. A new garrison will be formed under a new commander but it will give us a crucial window of time. Without the garrison in the city, I can freely withdraw from the alliance without worrying about my throat being slit that night.”

“Forgive me, Cypselus, but I can’t see the logic in that move,” said Praxis. “Even without the garrison in the city, the Spartans are still going to be upset with you for withdrawing from the alliance. One way or another, an army will come to reinstate their former position.”

“The thought had occurred to me,” muttered Cypselus. “Which is why longer term solutions are needed. It would be greatly helpful to me if your stepfather would join my hand against the Spartans, but even if he doesn’t, I’m in contact with the Messenians. Their leader, Nicomedes, is a strong king, and he would make a formidable ally.”

“Everyone knows that the Messenians don’t enter alliances,” argued Praxis. “You’d be making an offer to someone who wouldn’t listen to it. That’s not how they are.”

Cypselus gave Praxis a very human look at that moment. It was the look of a man without many options.

“I have to do something,” he said a few moments later. “Or else they’re going to plunge Corinth back into the dark ages that I’ve been trying to bring her out of now. If I don’t move against the Spartans first, they’ll move against me in enough time. And they will put Telestes back on the throne. I have to do something to stop them.”

It seemed to Praxis that Cypselus was a man that was grasping at straws. He didn’t have a firm power base here in the city, and that was why he was so vulnerable to counterattack by the Spartans. And yet, Praxis saw in his eyes a man that genuinely wanted to do good. There wasn’t anyone in the city who had a bad word to say about him (save for the Spartans or the former allies of Telestes).

Cypselus was a good king with his back against the wall.

By putting things into perspective, it became easier to accept the request that was being made.

“You certainly need more friends, Cypselus of Corinth,” said Praxis as a smile grew on his face. “But I’ll be a friend to you, even though you asked your best man to try to kill me. Try being the key word, of course”

Cypselus actually started to laugh. “If you were who we thought you were, he was of no danger to you. And it’s a good thing to have the friendship of a few good men. I desperately need them.”

“So what will you have me do? Tail after this Spartan commander? See if we can goad him into a fight?”

Cypselus grinned. “It seems to be what you do best, is it not?”

Praxis found himself reluctantly nodding until he looked back at Cypselus. “What about payment? You don’t expect me to do this for free, do you?”

“I had a feeling you’d ask that,” said Cypselus as he reached behind him and pulled out a small bag from his waist. He tossed it at Praxis, and the bag landed in his hand with the clamor of metal.

“Should be enough of a payment to do what you need, right?”

Praxis looked inside the bag and his eyes went wide. Slowly, he started to smile. “Yes, this will do just nicely.”

*****

“Father! I’ve returned!”

At the current moment, Damian was looking out on the city of Argos when he heard the familiar voice behind him. He turned, looking to find Xanthos closing the distance between them. It certainly looked like he’d been out in the fields for the last week. His face was red from the exposure to the sun, as were the areas of his shoulders not covered by his chiton.

Damian embraced him but even seeing his son wasn’t enough to remove his sour mood.

“How are the farms?” he asked Xanthos. “Are you tired of working the plow yet?”

“I don’t ever want to see a plow again,” said Xanthos, grinning. They spent a few minutes chattering about life on the farms before Xanthos broached the most critical topic of the day.

“How are things in the city? Mother told me you saw a Spartan envoy while I was away. How was it? Are we in the alliance now?”

Damian closed his eyes momentarily. “It would seem that the price they asked for admission was too much for us to pay.”

All signs of excitement left Xanthos’ face. “What do you mean? How could that be?”

Damian spent a few moments updating Xanthos on the requests made by the Spartan envoy, as well as how he had to turn the Spartan away, without sealing the alliance.

“Ultimately, it couldn’t be done,” said Damian, the disappointment on his face. “The people would never accept a garrison. They will think that we’ve surrendered our sovereignty to the Spartans.”

Xanthos didn’t seem so certain of that. “Maybe only temporarily, Father, but think of the alternative. Now we put ourselves on a list of cities that are liable to be attacked. Only by signing the alliance will we have any safety. And now we’ve sacrificed that.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” snapped Damian. “There is nothing else we can do. Putting a garrison in the city will see public opinion turn against us. They’ll kick me out of Argos and you with me. We won’t rule in the city again if we bring in the garrison.”

“Father, who cares what the city thinks if we have the backing of the Spartans?” said Xanthos, bringing up another side to the issue. “Who cares about the people as long as we’re in power? If they try to overthrow us, we can simply have the Spartans put us back in power. Do you see what I’m saying? The people aren’t necessary.”

Damian only shook his head. “You have much to learn about ruling, my son. You will need the support of the people in the long run. Without them, you will have nothing. We’d no sooner be reinstated only to find a mob chasing us out of the city again.”

“Let them fire up their mobs,” said a fiery Xanthos. “It will accomplish nothing.”

“Patience, Xanthos,” said Damian. “You still have much to learn. You need to accept the wisdom behind my words. In its current form, the Spartan offer is not acceptable. We’ll just have to find another way into their alliance. Something that doesn’t sacrifice our prestige in the city.”

A cruel grin started to grow on Xanthos’ face. “I think I know just how we might be able to do that,” he whispered to himself.