Page 128 of Axios

“You told me all the leaders had agreed on it,” I countered, feeling my throat constricting. “That war was at its end.”

“At first, yes, they had. And it had been.” He focused on me. “But Thebes requested to re-negotiate several of the terms, and their demands were unreasonable. King Agesilaus refused them, so they were excluded from the treaty. The peace went into effect for the other leaders, and it is now just us and Thebes at war.”

Even though I dreaded the answer, I asked my question anyway. “What does this mean?”

For us. For everything.

“The ceasefire has ended, and an army will be sent to invade Boeotia once more,” he responded in a blunt tone, but he couldn’t hide the disillusionment in his green eyes. “It has not been decided when we will go… but I feel it will be soon.”

Hope was such a cursed feeling, worse than any other. Days before, I had been ready to return to war. To fight if it was requested of me. But then hope had blossomed in my chest at the prospect of peace among the quarrelingpoleis.

Instead of seeing fighting in my future, I’d seen joy and happiness with Eryx. That brief glimpse of a wonderful future was lost. It was better to have never known such a thing as hope than to have the desolation for when it came crashing down.

Why can I never learn such a lesson? Happiness is not meant for us.

I averted my stare from him and looked at the area we had discussed planting trees. They’d take time to grow and prosper and would need care to help them along the way. Time we did not have.

It was evident our time in Sparta was once again at a close, and for how long, I wasn’t sure.

Weeks. Months. Years.

“Ax?” Eryx softly spoke, stepping closer and cupping my nape. When I didn’t answer, he pressed his forehead to mine. “Please say something, my warrior.”

I looked into his eyes, desperate for anything that would ground me.

“Do you think the fighting will ever stop?” I asked, feeling a cold creep through me even though it was the end of summer. Not even Eryx’s closeness helped.

“All wars eventually end,” he replied, slowly rubbing his hand up and down my bicep.

I found little comfort in the answer.

One side needed to be defeated or an accord needed to be set in motion for the war to end, and Thebes had proven to be stubborn and had refused to abide by any terms previously negotiated. The only end in sight was either their defeat or ours.

And I refused to give them that glory.

Chapter Thirty-Four

371 BC

We were fortunate not to leave for campaign until after winter had passed. The frost had melted and the land was alive once more, no longer frozen in slumber. With the arrival of spring came news of our departure.

The day before we were set to leave, I visited Agesipolis.

Grass had grown over his grave, and he was surrounded by the most beautiful flowers and a fountain of crystal clear water. Just as he would have loved—his own sanctuary of beauty to rest within.

“We are leaving again for war,” I told him, uncertain if he could even hear me, but wishing that he could. Wherever he was. “I want to hate them, Agis. Thebes. Yet, I cannot help but remember what you told me on the day we met.”

I recalled his words.

“Taking a life never becomes easier, I’m afraid,” Agesipolis had said in a reflective tone.“Even when you’re in battle and it is either you or them. I do it because I must, but the men I’ve slain had lives of their own. A vast majority might have even resented the war and only fought because duty asked it of them.”

“Just because their commanders refuse to settle and make peace does not mean the men that make up the army share their views,” I said, looking from his grave to the cloudless, blue sky. “They fight because they must. Just as we must.”

It was difficult to miss someone I barely had any time to come to know. I’d only had one day with him that had awoken me from the slump I’d been in—where I had fallen for his intelligent mind, caring nature, and views of the world—and the days leading up to his death where I had spent every single moment by his side.

However, I still missed him, whether it was rational or not.

Eryx gave me the time alone, and I was thankful for it. Not because I was ashamed of how I felt, but more so, I needed the privacy to speak the thoughts I kept quiet around him. Eryx allowed me to speak my mind and to voice my frustrations, and even when he did not quite understand them, he tried to still offer council.