In the Senate hall, some were still grumbling that two hundred drachmas was too high a price for citizenship. Others retorted that the fee needed to be substantial, so that the new citizens would understand that the status they had gained was not easily won and would therefore cherish it.

The very next day, however, news spread from the office of the Registrar, Raphias: the Lady Crystoia, wife of the Archon, had prepaid the citizenship fee for ten of the freedmen. At the same time, the Quaestor Mersis had advanced the funds for another six.

It was only then that the populace began to realize the true value of this group of freedmen. Mersis, with his shrewd eye for talent, had recruited a number of men in Persia who were literate and skilled in accounts, as well as several expert craftsmen. But even the ordinary former slaves were mostly strong and hardy men. They had served as laborers in the baggage train and had endured numerous battles. With a little training, they could be turned into competent soldiers. But their most valuable skill was this: they were, for the most part, Persian farmers. In the Mediterranean world, three peoples were known for their exceptional skill in agriculture: the Persians, nurtured by the fertile lands of Mesopotamia; the Egyptians, whose lives revolved around farming the lands enriched by the Nile’s annual flood; and the Carthaginians, whose power was built on the twin pillars of maritime trade and agriculture, for which they had even compiled a famous treatise on the subject. The Greeks, by contrast, whose homeland was mostly barren, were more inclined to seafaring, herding, the cultivation of olives and grapes, and craftsmanship. As for the new citizens of Amendolara, they had spent years as wandering soldiers and were utterly ignorant of farming.

Suddenly, a hiring frenzy erupted. All three hundred freedmen were quickly spoken for. The citizens who missed out were forced to travel to the markets of Tarentum—then the largest slave market in Magna Graecia—to purchase new laborers. Some even began to eye the large population of freemen in neighboring Thurii, but that is a story for another time.

The Senate, having resolved the matter of the slaves, did not immediately adjourn, for Marigi had returned from Tarentum.

The sea journey from Amendolara to Tarentum was not a long one. Boarding a ship at the port of Thurii, one could reach Tarentum in less than two hours with a favorable wind. Davos knew that sending Marigi had been a gamble—he had no better talent available at the time—and as a Persian, Marigi had initially found every door in Tarentum closed to him. Fortunately, Archytas had anticipated this and had given Marigi a letter to present to his father, Histiaeus. This, combined with Marigi’s own ingratiating efforts and the lavish and exotic gifts he brought, was enough to persuade the elder statesman Histiaeus to champion his cause. Thanks to his efforts, the Senate and Archons of Tarentum expressed great enthusiasm for Amendolara’s proposal of an alliance.

Of course, it was not Histiaeus’s influence alone that had warmed Tarentum to the idea. The real reason was strategic. Though Tarentum and Thurii had been at peace for decades and were both members of a defensive league, the alliance was a loose one with little binding power. The rivalries between some city-states, like Croton and Locri, were so deep that they were more likely to sabotage each other than to offer aid. Even Tarentum held a grudge against Thurii. Decades ago, Tarentum, one of the great powers of Magna Graecia, had suffered two humiliating defeats at the hands of the upstart city. Though they had eventually signed a truce and jointly founded the city of Heraclea, the affair had been a major loss of face for Tarentum. Now, Amendolara, a former ally of Thurii, was seeking an alliance with them. The Tarentine Senate saw this as a massive boost to their prestige. Furthermore, bringing Amendolara into their sphere of influence would provide a valuable buffer to protect their client-state, Heraclea. How could they possibly refuse?

Marigi’s second request, however, gave them pause. Citing the devastation of the recent war, he had asked Tarentum for a substantial aid package to help Amendolara survive. For a wealthy city like Tarentum, providing some aid to a new ally was a simple enough matter. But the quantity of supplies Marigi requested was so large that the senators were forced to debate the issue.

It was not until the next day, when Archytas returned with his troops and delivered his report to the Senate, that the matter was decided. Archytas spoke at length of the mercenaries’ formidable combat prowess and the brilliant military talent of their leader, Davos. He also emphasized a crucial point: the new Amendolara was now firmly in the hands of these new citizens.

Marigi had already praised the mercenaries’ performance in the battle against the Lucanian confederacy, but his words had been met with some resentment from senators who felt he was trying to steal Tarentum’s glory. But now, hearing the same report from their own trusted Archytas, who lavished praise upon Davos, they began to see the new Amendolara in a different light. This was not just a shield for Heraclea; it was a potent weapon they could potentially wield. And so, they not only approved the full quantity of aid Marigi had requested, but they added to it.

As Marigi stood before the Senate of Amendolara and read the articles of the alliance with Tarentum, the old citizens listened without much reaction. It was just another alliance, the partner merely changing from Thurii to Tarentum. The terms were much the same. Instead, their gazes were fixed on the man reading the treaty—this Persian, now a citizen of Amendolara. Remembering the two momentous laws his presence had provoked, their feelings were a complex mixture of resentment and respect.

Then, Marigi began to read the list of Tarentum’s aid: one hundred tons of grain, one thousand jin of salted fish, two hundred sets of shields and spears, one hundred bolts of linen cloth…

With each item, a wave of astonishment grew on the faces of the senators. Before Marigi had even finished, the entire hall erupted in cheers. Tarentum was being incredibly generous! The grain alone—one hundred tons of it—was enough to sustain the entire population of Amendolara for six months, by which time their own wheat fields would be ready for harvest. Just like that, their most pressing crisis had been solved. It felt like a dream.

“Due to the great quantity of these supplies,” Marigi announced over the din, “Tarentum will deliver them in several shipments by sea to Heraclea, from where they will be transported here. The first shipment will arrive tomorrow!” At this, a fresh storm of applause broke out.

Davos seized the moment of euphoria. “Gentlemen!” he boomed. “In light of the tremendous service Marigi has rendered to Amendolara, I propose that he—a citizen of Amendolara and our Commissioner of Commerce—be granted a seat in this Senate!”

The proposal was met with the roaring support of the new citizens. The old citizens, after a moment’s hesitation, reluctantly raised their hands.

The Senate then passed one final resolution: a delegation, led by the City Administrator Cornelius and the Censor Antonios, would travel to Tarentum the next day to formally express their gratitude and to negotiate the finer details of the alliance.

***

After the meeting concluded, Marigi followed close behind Davos as he left the chamber.

“Thank you, my lord, for all you have done for me!” he said, his voice thick with gratitude. “To think that I would become a citizen of Amendolara, a Commissioner of Commerce, and now an honored senator!”

“It seems I did not lie to you,” Davos said with a chuckle.

“My lord has always been a man of his word! How could you ever lie?” Marigi exclaimed, conveniently forgetting his own past skepticism.

“Remember, Marigi, this was not my decision alone,” Davos said, his tone both modest and cautionary. “This was a reward from the senators, in thanks for your contributions to Amendolara.”

Marigi glanced around, then lowered his voice. “What Senate? All I know is that without you, my lord, I would not even be a citizen of this city. Marigi’s loyalty is to you, and you alone, forever.”

The sincerity in his voice was palpable. Davos simply smiled again. “It seems you still have much to learn about the life of a citizen in a Greek city-state.”

Marigi was about to say more, but Davos clapped him on the shoulder. “What was Tarentum like?”

A shrewd man, Marigi took the hint and switched topics. “My time was short, and I only saw a little,” he said thoughtfully. “But the city is vast, its people numerous, and many of them are very wealthy. Its harbor is full of merchant ships, and its market is bustling. I imagine the volume of trade in a single day is immense.” A look of envy crossed his face.

“I hear the Messapians are invading Tarentum’s lands,” Davos probed. “What is the situation?”

Before joining the mercenaries, Marigi would have neither known nor cared about such matters. But his time with the army had given him a new perspective. “The Messapians have already withdrawn. Their raiding parties are mostly cavalry and light infantry. They refuse to meet Tarentum’s heavy infantry in a pitched battle. They can harass the lands outside the city walls, but Tarentum can do little against them. Their hoplites simply cannot catch them.”

“Cavalry? Do the Messapians have a large force of cavalry?” Davos asked, his interest sharply piqued.

“I do not know for certain. But I have heard that the lands south of Tarentum are not as mountainous as our own. There are few rivers and many flat grasslands, where the Messapians graze great herds of cattle, sheep, and horses.”

A new thought sparked in Davos’s mind. He had assumed that, on the Italian peninsula, only the Gauls of the northern Po Valley, with their vast plains and marshes, had developed a strong cavalry tradition. He had believed that the other powers of the region were, like his own, primarily infantry-based, with only a token force of horsemen. But now it seemed there was a tribe on the very heel of Italy that relied on cavalry. This is a piece of faulty intelligence, he realized. The Messapian army is not primarily cavalry. He made a mental note: he would instruct Antonios to gather thorough intelligence on the Messapians during his visit to Tarentum.

Note: The Messapians (Messapii) are believed to be an Illyrian tribe that migrated to the “heel” of southern Italy (in the area of modern-day Apulia) in ancient times, prior to the main era of Greek colonization. For this reason, they were also considered one of the native peoples of the region.