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It's been a few days since Alexios had left the town of Athens and Demosthenes' warm bed. Sometimes at night, dreams of the polemarkhos caused him to wake up with an abrupt erection he had to take care of urgently. That was the sign he grew attached to the man… And needed to forget him in the strong arms of another one. Such was his life, such were his rules. Since his victory near the City of the Violet Crown, the center of the war had shifted westward, to the isthmus of Korinth. His destination. The imposing shape of the Akropolis led his footsteps to new horizons. When he arrived, he headed to the message board, full of requests for petty services and major pleas altogether. As was his wont, the misthios didn't heed any of these. Instead he wrote his name, ever more notorious since his adventures in Attikè.
Brasidas wrote the report with circumspection. Once more, the Monger's had an edge over him, over everyone. Both omnipresent and elusive. The influence of the trafficker threatened to swallow whole the once flourishing city. Another dead merchant, another courageous victim who didn't want to see their business taken over by the shadow of corruption. Enough was enough. The task ahead would be tremendous. The Monger's agents had locked down the area, ensuring the criminal full control in his absence. The Spartan general was aware he was a single man against a web of felons, yet that wouldn't stop him from trying to accomplish his mission on behalf of the Kings. As he folded the papyrus and put his reed pen away, Brasidas took the decision to resort to violence. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He got rid of his armor, his weapons and went to the lower town unidentified. As he was close to the board, he noticed a new message written hastily. The name he deciphered sent shivers down his spine. Alexios. He knew a great deal of him by hearsay. The mercenary who had inflicted important losses to the Homoioi, who asked for payments in kind… With an asset like that, Brasidas could gather more information and strike back; yet he was reluctant to hire someone who seemed so determined to hurt Sparta. Moreover, a victory would imply a reward he was afraid to agree to… Nevertheless, the general didn't prevaricate and came down for a tryst with Alexios, provided the concerned party accepted it.
'I, Alexios the Eagle Bearer, place my sword at the service of any commander wishing to secure a swift and unequivocal triumph. All I ask in return is a tent to sleep in, a table to eat at and the commander's bed to warm up. Meet me behind the Temple of Aphrodite at sunset. If I'm inclined to help you, I'll let you know.'
What the hell was he getting himself into? Brasidas wondered as he climbed back up to the Akropolis. It's time. No one in sight but pilgrims and hetairai.
Alexios had learnt most of what he needed to be acquainted with while being on the road. While Korinth was officially allied with the Peloponnese League, its government had been gradually infiltrated by the Monger's sympathizers, to the point of annihilation. Though the mercenary was certain Sparta wouldn't let that happen without lifting a finger, the town appeared to be in a dire situation, plagued by a creeping criminality. Merchants have confirmed Alexios some soldiers had been deployed under the leadership of Brasidas, the Hero of Methone. The misthios didn't feel much disposed to aid him… Until rumors of the Spartan's great beauty reached his ears. Alexios' curiosity was definitely piqued. If the man happened to come to the sanctuary, it wouldn't be a crime to take a peek, would it? That afternoon, the mercenary stationed himself on top of a column, undetectable. Many people were silently praying to the goddess of fertility. Minutes passed, and still no sign of any soldier. As Alexios was about to leave, a stranger made an appearance. Looking left and right, he wasn't interested in religion at all. The mercenary came down a bit to observe him. Long haired, properly braided, visibly muscular, with large brown eyes and agreeable… Very agreeable features. How Alexios would love to try the strength of those arms out… No. Actually… He'd prefer to tame that beast of a man. Pull his hair, feel his muscles tense, watch his throbbing cock send spurts of hot cum while his own would still be buried deep inside him… Focus, Alexios. Now is not the time to jerk off. Introductions first. With a jump and a roll, he fell in front of a startled Brasidas.
"Looks like you're waiting for someone."
"I am," and after having stared at his interlocutor from head to toe, he added:
"Would you happen to be Alexios the Eagle Bearer, the misthios I am searching for?"
"It is I. And I'll fight for you, if you have no problem with what it implies."
Brasidas smiled.
"I have no problem, absolutely no one. Do we have a deal?"
Alexios shook hands with his new partner.
"We do. I look forward to… Meeting your expectations."
Brasidas bit his lip.
"Well… At the moment, I'm at the head of a handful of kryptoi. Though we've clearly been bested in our tasks by the Monger's agents and… Sorry if I go too fast. Are you privy to Korinth's current troubles?"
"I am. I know that his men operate mostly from a dock located on the port of Lekhaion. There must be a warehouse where they smuggle their stolen merchandise."
The general was stunned.
"It's what we've tried to find out for months. And you've accomplished all that in… Days?"
"Hours. Before we met. In case I wanted to work for you."
"How?"
"Easy. With the help of Ikaros over there, and my stealth skills."
"How discreet can you be?"
"Enough to watch you with longing from the roof of that temple…"
Brasidas blushed.
"First things first. Can you show me the location of the depot tomorrow?"
"Sure! Let's meet again in Lekhaion at dusk."
Alexios waved goodbye and vanished in the thick of the night, as quickly as he appeared.
As the first sun rays lit the countryside with pink shades, Brasidas was taking up a position near the walls of the harbor. Alexios was late. Why had he trusted a mercenary? He wouldn't make the same mistake. You can only rely on yourself…
Just as he was about to move, the general heard a muffled sound. The guard disappeared in a bush, knocked unconscious. Moments later, the main gate was left ajar. Brasidas seized the opportunity to break into the premises.
Alexios was there, standing against the rampart.
"Good morning, Brasidas."
"How…"
"No time to answer this, I fear. We've got work to do. Let's investigate the warehouse, shall we?"
The general and the misthios examined the surroundings meticulously, neutralizing single opponents while avoiding unnecessary confrontations. Alexios and Brasidas snuck in the depot by a window. There, they discovered a facet of the ugly Korinthian reality: goods of all sorts, ready to be exported, including slaves. Men, women and children of the city, caught in broad daylight in the streets. The few testimonies they collected from terrified captives narrated the same harrowing tale: if someone dared to oppose or even raise any question about that traffic, they would either join the ranks of those unfortunate people or end up dead in a gutter. Without warning, the doors crashed open. A dozen thugs, heavily equipped, faced the hero and the mercenary.
"Run!" The saviors screamed. The slaves didn't need to be told twice.
Showing intrepidity, both men plowed into the human barrier and struck implacably their enemies, using shields and swords.
Soon, a pile of limbs replaced the once seemingly inescapable threat. Brasidas, panting and covered with blood, could not hide his admiration for his younger companion.
"Are you aware that you fight like a Spartan, ? Actually, you fight better than one. That's quite surreal because at times, I really thought you were one of us… The best among us."
Alexios was a little embarrassed. It's as if the general could read him like in an open book.
"Is there something I should know? Or… That you'd like to tell me?" Brasidas added, though the tone was not judgmental. The man was genuinely concerned, empathetic. His pondered words, his honey voice, his soft eyes could melt the icy defences around the misthios' heart.
"You… You're partially right… I'm not a Spartan… Yet I was, once..."
"What do you mean?"
"I ceased to be a Spartan when they threw me off the mountain. It's been years since I'm dead."
Suddenly, Brasidas solved the mystery.
"Are you… Alexios, our lost prince? Son of Myrrine, grandson of Leonidas? You're alive?"
"In the flesh."
"It's outstanding! Whatever happened… Everyone deserves a second chance. With your expertise, you could be a major force in our ranks!"
"First, I'd have to be a citizen again. And I don't want to. Not yet."
Brasidas patted the mercenary on the shoulder.
"I understand. It just a suggestion. If you'd like to be reinstated in your rights, I'd vouch for you."
Alexios smiled.
"Thank you. I'll think about it but for the moment, I'd rather talk about our next move."
Day after day, news spread that Korinth had found its new patrons, those men who would help the town to regain its former glory and rid itself of the evils that plagued it. Traders, hetairai, simple citizens; all of them regained hope when they evoked the brave warriors of the shadows and their achievements. The Monger, alerted by the loss of his agents, had no choice but to come back to the city. In a prudent initiative, Brasidas and Alexios managed to lure the scoundrel inside a grotto. There, they ended his misfits once and for all. Then, they dumped his body into the sea under the cover of darkness.
"What do we do now?"
"Now… We go back to that cave and spend the rest of the night there, my handsome general."
They lit the place with improvised torches made with what was stored by the Monger over the months. Without a word, they removed their clothes, admiring, relentlessly exploring each other's body with their hands and tongues.
Alexios' drives were taking him over.
"I want to take you now…"
"Then show me what you've got, my prince."
Brasidas laid on his back and spread his legs, eager and ready to welcome Alexios between them. The mercenary collected olive oil with his index. Carefully, he stretched the hero's opening. The hero sighed but did not flinch.
"You're more… Experienced than I thought you'd be!"
Brasidas winked.
"Sometimes you learn… Unexpected things during your agoge. About yourself…"
Alexios inserted his finger deeper, until it was entirely inside.
"Such a sight… You, a dignified general of Sparta, squirming in pleasure under my ministrations…"
"You like that, don't you… Having me under your dominance…"
Alexios smirked.
"Indeed… And it's just the beginning," the misthios announced as he replaced his forefinger with the tip of his anointed member.
Brasidas moaned and caught Alexios' left arm.
"Fuck me. Claim me."
The mercenary didn't wait anymore to slide, inch after inch, until his pelvis reached Brasidas'. Their lascivious gazes locked, and their breathings synced. Alexios stayed motionless for seconds, drowning himself in the hero's hazelnut eyes, before he began to give slow and sensual thrusts. He kissed the general while he was at it, and stopped only when he decided to increase his speed. They climbed to sensual heights together, sweating and panting, Brasidas climaxing instants before Alexios. Consumed by the fire in his loins, the misthios fell heavily on the Spartan hero.
Brasidas played with Alexios' braids.
"Come back with me. To Sparta"
"Sadly I must decline your propositions. I have my own destiny to follow, my mother to find. Though… Maybe one day…"