“All troops, form ranks!” the officers shouted.

The soldiers in the river scrambled back, nearly getting swept away by the current.

“The riverbed is full of large, round stones. They’re slippery and hard to walk on,” one of the soldiers reported to the leaders after reaching the bank.

“It seems that with the Persians on the other side, it will be very difficult for us to cross here,” Timasion said with a sigh of resignation, and the other leaders agreed. They stared intently at the opposite bank. The Persians had halted their advance and were lined up along the river. Their formation stretched for more than a mile, and they numbered no fewer than twenty thousand men.

“It’s Orontes’s army,” Cleanor said, a note of surprise in his voice.

Xenophon remarked with some regret, “It appears he has gotten ahead of us.”

Xanthipparis pointed at the opposite bank in astonishment. “Look, he’s also recruited a number of Chaldeanians!”

Chaldeanians? Davos was unfamiliar with the name and turned to Philesius with a questioning look.

“The Chaldeanians are a tribe that lives in Armenia,” Philesius explained, pointing. “They are said to be fierce warriors, and the Persians like to recruit them to serve as heavy infantry. See, those are them.”

Following his finger, Davos saw them in the center of the Persian formation. In the front ranks stood men wearing leather helmets and tunics, each carrying a long shield in one hand and a long spear in the other.

“It seems Orontes is doing everything he can to stop us. A pity for him that the Chaldeanians are no match for us,” Timasion said defiantly.

“But with this river between us, everything changes,” Xanthipparis countered, his tone pessimistic.

“Have the men make camp and rest for now,” Chrysophus said, his expression calm. “Send men to scout the river for a better place to ford.”

The order was given, and the army fell back to set up camp less than a mile from the Centrites River.

Before long, Laedes returned with a report. They had found no sign of Persians on their side of the river, but they had spotted some Doukias tribesmen watching them from the nearby woods. The news made the leaders frown.

“Bring Izam here,” Chrysophus commanded.

Izam was the son whom the great chief Komoros had sent to be their guide. During his twenty days with the Greeks, the energetic young man had developed an intense curiosity about the distant land of Hellas. No longer wanting to return to his secluded mountain village, he longed for adventure in the outside world. After receiving his father’s permission, he had been formally taken in by the mercenaries.

When Izam heard the news, he was taken aback. He swore that the Doukias scouts could not possibly be from his father’s tribe and volunteered to investigate.

With the leaders’ permission, Laedes took him to the location. Half an hour later, Izam returned and reported that the men belonged to the same tribes that had united to attack the Greeks in the mountains. He had even recognized a few of them.

After Izam had left, Xenophon breathed a sigh of relief. “I told you. Komoros cooperated with us so well. Why would he turn on us the moment we parted ways?”

Cleanor snorted. “Don’t be so quick to trust this Doukias. How do you know Komoros’s son isn’t lying? We’ve all seen what kind of man Komoros is. After every battle, he would argue with us for half a day over the division of spoils, not letting go of so much as a single clay pot. A man that greedy, seeing us about to fight the Persians again—how could he possibly pass up such a golden opportunity to take advantage?”

“And the treaty is no longer in effect. It doesn’t bind him anymore,” Timasion interjected.

“His son is in our hands,” Xenophon reminded them.

“I hear he has more than a dozen sons. The loss of one would be no great matter to him,” Cleanor retorted. “Besides, who’s to say Komoros didn’t plan this from the start, leaving his son here to act as a spy?”

Sitting in the corner, Davos sensed the mood in the tent turning sour. Xenophon was by nature a man of vibrant intellect and energy, and as he had grown more familiar with the army’s affairs, he had become even more proactive. In the eyes of some of the other leaders, this came across as overly ostentatious, and they would occasionally take opportunities to put him in his place. Davos had once advised him to be more restrained, but Xenophon’s reply had been: “I have done nothing wrong. Hades did not bring me here to please any one man, but to contribute my strength to saving the lives of these ten thousand Greek brothers.”

In contrast, the younger Davos was far more composed. Since becoming a general, he had been assertive when he needed to be, earning respect and prestige for himself, but for the most part, he was reserved. In council meetings, he mostly listened, knowing that these other leaders had spent years on the battlefield and possessed a wealth of experience from which he could learn.

“We all know that Komoros is an ambitious and intelligent man,” Davos said now, his voice calm and soft. Xenophon was a friend; for both public and private reasons, he had to help him out of this tight spot. “And an intelligent man knows what to do and when to do it. Right now, the most important thing for the Kthokant tribe is to quickly absorb and integrate the four tribes they just conquered, to turn them into a real part of their own strength. That’s why he was in such a hurry to part ways with us as soon as we left the mountains. I don’t believe he would provoke us while his own internal situation is still unstable. He knows how powerful we are, especially with so many of his own enemies still surrounding him.”

“So you’re saying those Doukias scouts are, as the boy said, from the tribes we defeated?” Cleanor said sarcastically. “They don’t dare attack the Kthokant, but they dare to provoke us?”

“As you said yourself, they are here to see if there are any scraps to be picked,” Davos replied deftly.

Chrysophus finally spoke. “Whether they are from the Kthokant tribe or not, on this plain, as long as we are on our guard, we have nothing to fear from anyone. What is important now is to find a way to cross this river, break through Orontes’s blockade, and enter Armenia. The longer we delay, the greater our difficulties will become.”

The generals fell silent.

A full day passed with no new discoveries.

The second day brought no good news, but plenty of bad. The number of Doukias tribesmen in the surrounding hills was growing; Laedes roughly estimated there were now over a thousand. The Persian army on the opposite bank also seemed to be increasing in size. Meanwhile, the Greeks’ provisions were rapidly dwindling, and soldiers sent out to gather firewood were being periodically attacked by the Doukias.

The grim situation was making not only the soldiers anxious but the leaders as well. During their council, Xenophon proposed sending Izam back to his father to ask if he could help drive away the other Doukias tribes. The suggestion was met with ridicule from Timasion, and the two even broke into a heated argument.

***

On the morning of the third day, Xenophon strode triumphantly into the command tent with two young soldiers in tow. The two soldiers had found a place where the river could be easily forded.

At this news, all the previous conflict between the leaders vanished, replaced by a surge of excitement.

So as not to alert the Persians on the opposite bank, Chrysophus disguised himself as a common soldier and went on foot with the two men to inspect the location.

When he finally returned, the look of relief on his face told everyone that the crossing was a success.