Crystoia gestured toward the cup in Andrea’s hand. “The beer is made from barley. What you’re drinking is the result of many experiments. The taste is quite good now, though there is still a bit of sediment. But Davos says not to worry, that those bits are good for your health. I drink a little every day now. It quenches my thirst, and it doesn’t make you drunk as easily as wine…”

“The taste is peculiar, but after a sip, it makes you want more! Please, may I have another cup?” Andrea said, handing her wooden cup to Asuna.

As Asuna refilled it, Andrea took another drink and then reported, “My lady, I have come with good news. Most of the loans the bank made to the citizens of Amendolara back in April have been repaid!”

“So soon?” Crystoia asked, a little surprised.

“The wheat harvest was bountiful this year, and we have heard there is fighting in both Sicily and on the Peloponnesian Peninsula, so the price has risen. On top of that, our restaurants have been actively buying up their cattle and sheep—including the offal—which has given them a great deal of extra income,” Andrea explained. “So they have been able to repay the principal and the interest. Some have even asked to borrow more, so they can raise more livestock to meet the restaurants’ demand.”

“Excellent! They earn a profit, we recover our loans and earn even more. Both sides benefit. As Davos would say, it is a ‘win-win.’ And now, we can lend that money to the citizens of Thurii, who need it even more.”

“My lady, we have earned four hundred drachmae in interest from those loans. And the restaurant in Amendolara, in just over a month of operation, has already made a profit of about five hundred drachmae. In total, our earnings are nearly a thousand drachmae!” Andrea said excitedly.

“Indeed. Who would have thought that the animal entrails people used to discard could be made into something so delicious, and be good for you as well?” Crystoia said happily. “If Davos did not put all his energy into governing the city-state, he could surely become the most famous merchant in all of Greece. His suggestion about the beer has made me very optimistic. I believe this will become our next profitable venture. Now, we just have to wait for the arena to be built!”

“Lord Davos is a descendant of the King of the Underworld, after all. Is there anything he cannot do? Bagulos holds Lord Davos in the highest esteem!” Andrea added. Then, a thought occurred to her. “My lady, these past few days, several groups of preparatory citizens have come to the bank. They wish to engage in maritime trade and have been asking if they can receive a loan.”

“Maritime trade?” Crystoia frowned and thought for a moment. “Maritime trade is a risky venture. A single misfortune can mean the loss of both ship and crew, and we would be unable to recover the loan. What’s more, they are only preparatory citizens. If their venture in a foreign land fails and they simply flee, where would we find them to collect the debt? And yet… Davos has said that the bank’s greatest purpose is to support our own commerce and promote the growth of trade…” She was so lost in thought that she forgot she was holding a rose she had been about to plant, and a thorn pricked her finger.

Asuna and Andrea rushed to her side with small cries of alarm, one sucking at the tiny wound, the other wrapping it with a thin strip of cloth.

Crystoia, however, paid it little mind, her focus still on the problem at hand. “We must be cautious about giving loans to preparatory citizens,” she said seriously. “First, we must investigate their character to determine if they are upright and honest. We must also assess their skill in seamanship. And they must have equivalent collateral and a trustworthy guarantor. If all those conditions are met, it would be best to add a clause to the agreement forbidding them, at least in the beginning, from engaging in long-distance trade between the eastern and western Mediterranean…”

“I understand, my lady,” Andrea said with a nod.

***

While Crystoia and Andrea were speaking in the back court, Davos was receiving two guests in the forecourt’s reception hall.

“Hieronymus! Agasias! Please, come in, sit! This is the first time you have both come to my home!” Davos greeted them warmly, ushering them into the hall and immediately ordering a slave to bring dried figs, dates, and wine.

Hieronymus seemed a little reserved, but Agasias smiled. “My lord, there is a matter for which we have come to seek your permission.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“My lord, back when we were all in Persia, fighting to return to Greece, we helped one another and fought our enemies together, forging a deep bond of friendship. In Byzantium, Hieronymus and I, along with a few other comrades, chose to follow you to Magna Graecia. The rest of our brothers, weary and uncertain of the future, chose to return to their homes. I thought they had all gone back to a peaceful life, free from war. But some time ago, we heard from the new light infantrymen that Epitenes recruited from the eastern Mediterranean that our comrades from the Persian expedition never made it home. They have been pressed into service by the Spartans, forced to continue fighting the Persians in Asia Minor for a pittance.”

Agasias’s voice grew heavy with emotion. “When we heard this, we felt a great unease in our hearts. We are here, enjoying a prosperous life, while our brothers-in-arms are suffering in a distant land, where their lives could be extinguished at any moment by a javelin, a sword, or a spear. Lord Archon, we have so much surplus land here, and so many enemies yet to defeat, like the Lucanians and the Crotoniates. Why do we not invite them to join us? They are not only rich in battlefield experience, but they, like us, come from the eastern Mediterranean. We share the same customs and know each other well. It is not like with the citizens here—” Agasias stopped abruptly, seeing the expression on Davos’s face change.

“What about the citizens here?” Davos asked, his voice low.

Before the flustered Agasias could speak, Hieronymus took over. “Some of the Thurians… they say we are low-class men from Greece, that we only know how to kill and have no knowledge of how to govern a city-state. They say we will only bring chaos to Thurii…”

Davos’s face darkened, but he quickly softened his expression. “Those are just a few,” he said reassuringly. “The majority of the Thurian people are deeply grateful to us. Besides, the power is in our hands. Let them talk. It allows them to vent their frustrations, but their words cannot harm us. Am I not right?”

He paused, then continued, “As for inviting Timasion and the others to join us, it is not something I haven’t considered. But they are currently in the employ of Sparta. With our current strength, we dare not provoke the Spartans.”

“My lord!” Agasias pleaded. “You and I both know that a mercenary is free by his very profession. If the terms are not good, he can leave his employer at any time. The only reason Timasion and the others have stayed is that they have nowhere else to go. We can offer them another choice. If we send someone to secretly spread the news in Asia Minor, I am certain that when they learn of our situation here, they will find a way to come to us!”

His words struck a chord with Davos. He knew that the foundation of his current success was his military victories, and the bedrock of those victories was the veterans of the Greek expedition. With more and greater wars on the horizon, he needed more excellent soldiers. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the arm of his chair. After weighing the risks and rewards, he decided to take the chance. “Very well. We will send one man. It would be best if he does not make direct contact, but simply spreads the news. Have you thought of who to send?”

Seeing that Davos had agreed, both Hieronymus and Agasias beamed.

“My lord, Hieronymus is needed here to train the soldiers. Allow me to go,” Agasias volunteered.

“You may go. But be careful, and return as soon as you are able,” Davos said with a nod. He then turned to Hieronymus. “How goes the training of the citizens?”

“The new recruits are all training diligently, especially the former Thurian citizens,” Hieronymus reported. “They have mastered the various skills. All they lack now is true combat experience.”

“Soon, many more recruits will be joining the ranks, and our forces will expand significantly. I want you to intensify their training and ensure their combat effectiveness does not decline. Next year, they will have their chance to see a real battle.”

Hieronymus’s eyes lit up. Lucania!

After Hieronymus and Agasias had departed in high spirits, Davos’s expression turned serious. He summoned Axistes. “There have been murmurings of discontent among the Thurians against the Amendolarans recently. I want you to investigate the cause. Find out who is behind it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

***

October was traditionally a time of leisure, the month when Greek city-states held their assemblies to elect strategoi and archons. But in the Thurii-Amendolara Alliance, there were no elections. The Archon was unique and served for life; senators were appointed by special decree or advanced through merit, leaving the common citizens with no say; the high public officials, according to the new laws, all served for two-year terms and were appointed by the Archon upon the recommendation of the Senate.

Fortunately, the citizens of the Alliance were too busy to notice the lack of political activity. The Amendolarans were engrossed in the booming commerce of the warehouse and inn district below their city. The Thurians poured all their energy into rebuilding their homes. The preparatory citizens, thrilled to be working their own plots of land for the first time in their lives, were already busy tilling the soil, fertilizing, and watering. The labor jobs they had vacated were immediately filled by a new, massive influx of freemen who had heard the news and were now flooding into the territory. The port district was a babel of different accents as these newcomers worked as sailors, porters, and cleaners, some even starting small businesses of their own. As they toiled at the dirtiest and most strenuous jobs, they eagerly registered at the census office, and then began to count the days on their fingers, waiting for the two years to pass so they, too, could apply to become preparatory citizens.