Demi-God

As Lucian and Drakon floated in the warm water, enjoying the soothing effects of their oil treatment when a familiar voice cut through the ambient noise of the bathhouse.

"Well, well! If it isn't the dynamic duo!"

Drakon's eyes snapped open, his relaxed demeanor instantly replaced by alertness. He spun around, water splashing, to face the source of the voice. "What the? What in Hades are you doing here?"

Standing at the edge of the pool was Stephanos, as naked as the day he was born, grinning down at them. Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the water, sending small waves rippling across the surface.

"Can't a man enjoy a good bath?" Stephanos chuckled, settling himself next to them.

"Cut the crap, Stephanos. Last I heard, you were back in Sparta. Why are you in Selybria?"

Stephanos raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. If you must know, I'm here on official business. General Brasidas sent me to join you two. Seems he thought you might need an extra pair of hands for your... scouting mission."

Lucian, who had been watching the exchange with growing confusion, finally spoke up. "Hey there, Stephanos!"

"Ah, young Lucian! Good to see you again. You've grown since I last saw you in Sparta."

"Uh, thanks," Lucian replied, still trying to process the sudden appearance of this new player. "When did you get here? To Selybria, I mean."

"A few days ago," Stephanos said, leaning back against the pool's edge. "Been keeping an eye out for you two. Figured I'd run into you eventually, though I must admit, I didn't expect it to be in the buff."

"And how exactly did you know we'd be here?"

"Word gets around. Plus, this is the best bathhouse in the city. Where else would two weary travelers go to unwind?"

"Right," Drakon said, his tone making it clear he wasn't entirely convinced. "And what exactly did Brasidas tell you about our mission?"

"Not much. Just that you're gathering information on Persian movements. He thought an extra set of eyes and ears might come in handy."

Lucian glanced at Drakon, trying to gauge his reaction. The old Spartan's face was unreadable, but he could sense the tension in his body.

"Look," Stephanos continued, "I know my appearance is unexpected. But we're all on the same side here. Whatever you're planning, I'm here to help."

Drakon was silent for quite some time, his eyes never leaving the Spartan man. Finally, he spoke. "We'll talk more about this later. For now, let's just... enjoy the bath."

"Fair enough," Stephanos nodded, "so, Lucian, how are you finding Selybria? Quite different from Sparta, eh?"

"Selybria? It's... different," he said, searching for the right words. "Bigger than I expected. Lots of people from all over. The food's pretty good too."

"Ah yes, the food. Nothing quite like Spartan black broth, is there?"

"Gods, no. I don't miss that stuff at all. Give me a good fish stew any day."

"Traitor," Stephanos teased. "But I can't blame you. The food here is better. So, beyond the culinary delights, what else have you noticed?"

Lucian's brow furrowed. "Well, the people seem... freer, I guess? Less rigid than back home. And the buildings - they're something else. All these colors and decorations. It's like every house is trying to outdo its neighbor."

"That's the influence of the East for you," Stephanos nodded. "Selybria's a trade hub, after all. Brings in all sorts of ideas and styles."

Drakon, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "It also brings in all sorts of trouble. Speaking of which, we should fill you in on what we've learned so far."

"That’s a good idea."

Lucian shot Drakon a questioning look, but the old man just nodded. "Go ahead, boy. Tell him what we know."

"Me?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Taking a deep breath, Lucian began to recount their discoveries. "There's this person called the Whisperer. Seems they're the key to uncovering the Persian plans. We've got a lead on how to make contact, but..."

"But what?" Stephanos prompted.

"It's not exactly... legal."

"I'm intrigued. Do tell."

"We need to steal something," Drakon cut in, "a box from a merchant coming into town tomorrow. It's our ticket to meeting the Whisperer."

"Steal?" Stephanos looked surprised, then grinned. "Well, that's certainly not what I expected. But I'm game. What's the plan?"

The two exchanged glances.

"We, uh, don't really have one yet," Lucian confessed.

"Typical. Alright, let's work this out. Tell me everything you know about this merchant and the box."

For the next hour, the three of them huddled in the corner of the pool, discussing the details of their target and brainstorming ideas. Other bathers came and went, paying them no mind as they plotted their theft in hushed tones.

"So, the merchant arrives at midday," Stephanos mused, stroking his chin. "That's when the streets will be most crowded. We could use that to our advantage."

"How so?" Lucian asked.

"Create a distraction. Something to draw attention away from the cart. While everyone's looking the other way, one of us slips in and grabs the box."

"Not bad," Drakon nodded. "But what kind of distraction?"

"I could start a fight," Stephanos suggested. "Pick an argument with some local, let it escalate. That ought to draw a crowd."

"And risk getting arrested before we even get the box? No thanks."

"What about a street performance?" Lucian chimed in. "You know, like those traveling actors we saw yesterday. If we put on a show right as the merchant is passing by..."

"That... could work," Stephanos said, sounding impressed. "But none of us are actors. Who'd put on this show?"

"Leave that to me. I've got an idea."

"Care to share with the rest of us?" Drakon asked.

"Remember those spear-throwing drills you've been putting me through?" Lucian said. "Well, I think it's time to put those skills to use. I can set up some targets, maybe do some trick shots. Trust me, I can create a distraction that'll have everyone's eyes on me."

Stephanos looked intrigued. "Spear throwing, eh? That could definitely draw a crowd. But are you sure you're good enough to keep their attention?"

"Oh, he's good enough," Drakon chuckled. "He can hit a fly off a horse's ass at fifty paces."

Lucian felt his cheeks flush at the unexpected praise. "I wouldn't go that far, but yeah, I can put on a show they won't forget."

"Alright then," Stephanos nodded. "Lucian creates the distraction with his spear-throwing act. Who grabs the box?"

"I will," Drakon volunteered. "I'm the least conspicuous of us three. No one will expect an old man to be a thief."

"Fair point," Stephanos agreed. "And I'll be nearby, helping Lucian with his act. We'll need a meeting point for after, somewhere we can lay low until it's time to make the drop."

"Sounds like a good idea," Drakon said.

They spent another half hour ironing out the details of their plan, assigning roles and discussing contingencies. By the time they finished, the water had cooled, and their skin had pruned.

"Well, gentlemen," Stephanos climbed out of the pool, "I'd say we've earned ourselves a drink. What do you say we continue this discussion over some wine?"

"Sounds good to me," Drakon nodded. "But first, let's get dressed. I've seen enough of your naked ass for one day."

After drying off and getting dressed, Lucian, Drakon, and Stephanos made their way to a nearby tavern.

They found an empty table in the corner and settled in. Stephanos flagged down a server, a young woman with curly brown hair.

"What can I get for you gentlemen?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

"We'll take a jug of your house wine. And how about some of that roasted lamb I smell? With extra flatbread on the side."

"Coming right up," the server nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

Drakon leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Ah, nothing like a good bath followed by some wine to set a man right."

"Speaking of setting things right," Stephanos said, turning to Lucian with a sly grin. "I couldn't help but notice how you perked up about my sister a month ago."

Lucian felt his face grow hot. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on. I saw the way you looked at Carme back in Sparta. It's written all over your face, kid."

"I... that's not... I mean..."

Just then, the server returned with their wine and cups. Drakon immediately grabbed the jug and poured himself a generous portion.

"Ah, sweet nectar of the gods," he said, taking a long drink. He caught the eye of another server passing by and gave her a wink. "Hey there, beautiful. Care to join us?"

The woman rolled her eyes and kept walking.

Drakon shrugged and turned his attention back to his wine. "Fine, I’ll just drink this alone then. Bitch."

"Come on," Stephanos said, pouring himself some wine, "admit it. You've got feelings for Carme."

"Look, I barely know her. We only talked a few times."

"A few times is all it takes sometimes. I've seen the way she looks at you too, you know."

"She... she does?"

Stephanos burst out laughing. "Ha! I knew it. You do like her."

"That's not fair. You tricked me."

"All's fair in love and war, my friend," Stephanos clapped him on the shoulder. "And from where I'm sitting, you're neck-deep in both."

The server returned with their food, setting down a platter piled high with succulent lamb and warm flatbread. The rich aroma made Lucian's mouth water.

Drakon, who had been quietly drinking and flirting with passing servers, finally rejoined the conversation. "What are you two gossiping about like old women?" he asked, tearing off a chunk of bread.

"Oh, just discussing young Lucian's budding romance with my sister," Stephanos said with a grin.

"Is that so? Well, good luck with that, boy. Spartan women are a handful."

"It's not like that," Lucian insisted. "We're just... friends. Sort of."

"Sure, sure," Stephanos waved his hand while taking a sip. "And I'm Zeus in disguise."

Lucian sighed and grabbed a piece of lamb, hoping the food would give him an excuse to change the subject. "This is really good," he said around a mouthful of meat.

"Nice try. But you're not getting off that easy. Tell me, what is it about Carme that caught your eye? Her sparkling personality? Her fierce independence? Or just those legs that go on for days?"

"Gods, can we please talk about something else?"

Drakon, who had polished off his third cup of wine, chimed in. "Leave the boy alone. Can't you see you're embarrassing him? Besides, we've got more important things to worry about than his love life."

"You're right, you're right," Stephanos conceded. "But this conversation isn't over, young man. I want to know exactly what your intentions are with my sister."

As the night wore on, the tavern became a stage for increasingly raucous revelry. Drakon, emboldened by cup after cup of wine, persisted in his attempts to charm the servers. His flirtations grew bolder and less coherent with each drink, earning him more than a few eye rolls and exasperated sighs, resulting in sharp slaps that rang through the tavern, leaving red marks on his weathered cheeks.

Stephanos, far from discouraging his companion's antics, found endless amusement in the spectacle. His laughter boomed, growing louder and more frequent as the wine flowed freely. At one point, seized by a surge of drunken camaraderie, he clambered onto the table, pulling a swaying Drakon up with him. Together, they belted out off-key renditions of old Spartan war songs.

Other patrons, caught up in the infectious energy and joined in the festivities. Soon, the tavern was alive with a chorus of mismatched voices and filled with the sound of clapping hands and stomping feet.

Amidst the chaos, Lucian found himself swept along by the tide of merriment. Unused to such indulgence, he matched his companions drink for drink, his head spinning more with each cup. The rich food and flowing wine proved too much for the young man. As the night reached its peak, he slid from his chair, succumbing to the effects of overindulgence. He lay sprawled on the tavern floor, oblivious to the continuing celebrations around him, snoring amidst discarded cups and crumbs of flatbread.