Page 133 of Eryx

“Do you wish for me to travel with you?” he asked Axios, concern marring his brow. “You may need my help.”

For a slave to ask such a question baffled me. Even more bewildering was that he no longer wore the attire of a helot. He instead dressed in a simple tunic and wore sandals, appearing more as a citizen of Aphytis than a Spartan slave. He had forgotten his place.

“No,” Axios said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Stay here and live your life. You can be happy here.”

“I have never felt such happiness,” Pyrrhus said, his eyes watering. “If there is ever a time you return to Aphytis, find me. And if you never return, and this is the last time I shall see you, I wish you great fortune.”

We departed then, leaving the city by the sea behind. After we’d traveled a mile or so, I finally peered at Axios.

“You set the helot free,” I said, confused by this.

“Yes.” Axios exhaled and lifted his eyes to mine. “It was the least I could do after being the cause of his brother’s death.”

“I killed his brother, not you.”

“But it was due to my actions,” Axios argued, facing ahead. “Because of my weak heart.”

“I do not think it weak,” I countered. “Passionate and stubborn, yes. But never weak.”

His lips twitched with a smile—the first one I’d seen in far too long. “You think me stubborn?”

I returned his smile and shifted my attention to the road before us. He lightly chuckled and called me an ass.

And then we continued the long walk home.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The journey to Sparta took far less time since we were traveling with so few men. Upon our return, the people did not cheer or celebrate. Their gazes fell to the man we carried with us and they bowed their heads in respect. The king’s advisors informed the other king, Agesilaus, about the younger king’s death, and the city mourned.

Axios insisted that King Agesipolis be buried in his favorite orchard—the one they had walked through on the day they’d met. The council agreed, and so the king was then laid to rest.

“His final request was to rest beneath the shade of a tree,” Axios said with a slight tremble in his voice, as he stared at the freshly dug grave. “It’s only fitting that he be buried beneath one as well, so that he may forever be surrounded by beauty.”

“It pains me to see you this way,” I spoke, placing my hand at the small of his back. His heartache seemed as if it would never ease. “Death is a thing we must become desensitized to. He will not be the last man you care for to die.”

“I know.”

Axios glanced at Agesipolis’ grave one last time before turning toward me. “Shall we leave for evening meal?”

I missed the light in his eyes. The warmth. The sun shone down on us, but its warmth failed to reach him. He could fool the world with his indifferent stare, but he could not fool me.

“I have a better idea,” I said, taking his hand. “Follow me.”

There was only one way I could think of to break through the wall he’d built around himself. I led him down a hill and into the valley.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked. We jumped over a small stream and kept going. “Ery?”

I peered at him from the corner of my eye and smirked. The mystery had him intrigued. Distracted. And finally, glimpses of the man I loved returned. He smiled as we entered a section of the woods we didn’t travel through often. Each time our eyes met, I saw his curiosity. But also his excitement. I heard the river before we reached it.

“Why did we come here?” Axios asked, once we had stepped from the coverage of trees and walked out into the sun again. The mountain stood to the right, its peak stretching toward the heavens, and he gazed up at it.

“I wanted to show this to you,” I said, leading him to the water’s edge. The sand on the riverbank was soft beneath the soles of my feet.

His brows drew together as he focused on the water. Searching.

And then I pushed him in.

Axios gasped as he fell into the river. He went all the way under before shooting back up, flinging water with his hair. Once he gained his footing on the slippery riverbed, he glared at me.