Part 23 - Cretins
Whoever was supplying wine to the Corinthian king, he was more than earning his keep.
Joxer slowly sipped at the plain silver chalice, enjoying the slightly fruity vintage as it washed over his tongue. There was a nice lingering bitterness to it, but not enough to spoil it.
He and Ares, who was working on his third cup of the same wine as Joxer was nursing his first, were in an alcove, watching as King Iphicles worked very hard to not snatch himself bald with frustration. Joxer had been right. A contingent of ornately ornamented, Eastern-garbed delegates were occupying the king's full attention with some kind of embargo business. That was enough to keep anyone occupied.
But not only were the delegates insisting that the restrictions to outside trading be loosened, they wanted the import tax waived and had insisted that the Corinthian army be dispatched to patrol the trade route. As far as they were concerned, the way was fraught with all manner of highwaymen and murderers waiting to ambush them. Through gritted teeth, Iphicles had informed them that the small assignment of soldiers would suffice. He wasn't going to occupy all of his troops on that particular task.
"So, what do you think?" Ares asked, his voice unheard by the assembled mortals.
Joxer shrugged, taking another sip of wine. "It's not too bad. Once they're gone, it'll be back to business. He's got the extra men out on patrol to keep these stuffed-togas happy. When they leave, he'll be able to focus better on the big picture ." He snorted a small laugh into his cup, sending ripples across the surface. "In fact, I'm pretty sure they're gonna use the roads as a stalling technique to try and put the squeeze on him one last time."
"Most likely. That horde of barbarians I have on the way may not even be necessary," Ares chuckled a little. "But� we'll see how Iphy deals with them AND this lot."
Joxer nodded. A small skirmish wouldn't hurt anything, he supposed. And an army shouldn't be allowed to stagnate. That would lead to getting sloppy and THAT would be a bad thing, especially for such a high-profile city like Corinth. Once word got out that the army was slacking, every warlord and his mother would be making a play for control. No, this would be good. Keep Iphicles sharp� Joxer took another sip of wine and regarded the king. He'd known Iphicles for a while, had been in his court on numerous occasions, usually trailing behind Xena or Hercules. Quite a few times on his own, as well. But for some reason, today� He squinted and tilted his head to the side. Weird.
Joxer looked back at Ares to ask if something was different about the king and stopped before he could even speak. Then he turned back to the throne. And then back to Ares. Throne. Ares. Throne. Ares. Wow. How is it I missed THAT? "Say, I never noticed before, but� Iphicles looks a lot like you."
A deep chuckle/snicker and a wry grin came from the War God. "Well, he should."
Joxer's eyes widened a fraction. "Yeah?"
"A few generations removed, but�" Ares nodded. "He's one of mine."
"Wow. I guess that explains the whole thing between him and Herc."
"No, they managed that one all on their own. It probably helps that Iphy's a descendent of mine, but it's not the main factor in their� 'issues'. You know how brothers are."
Joxer nodded, all too familiar with the ways of siblings. He suspected Ares was no stranger to it, either. A deep sigh ran through the war god and he took another long drink of wine, following it with a dark chuckle. "Sisters aren't much of a picnic either."
"Athena."
"None other."
Joxer mulled over his next words carefully, not wanting to draw godly fire from any direction. "She's� certainly� a strong presence to deal with."
