As Davos watched the Syracusan envoy Herolis disappear into the distance, he turned and walked back into his house, his expression now heavy with a grim sense of foreboding. ‘The trees wish for stillness, but the wind will not cease.’ It was clear that Syracuse was preparing for war with Carthage. Regardless of the outcome, Amendolara had to develop its strength, and quickly, if it was to find its footing in these turbulent times.

***

Two days later, in his palace in Syracuse, the tyrant Dionysius listened to Herolis’s report. His face, at first clouded with anger, suddenly broke into a contemptuous laugh. “A petty mercenary chieftain has made himself an Archon for Life! Masias, what do you make of it?”

Masias, a former leader of Campanian mercenaries, stood ramrod straight in his military attire. He answered without a moment’s thought, his voice flat and formal. “My lord, I believe that the leader of a mercenary army should focus on winning battles and earning gold and glory, not on dabbling in matters he knows nothing about. It may seem appealing, but it is a path that leads to failure and brings ruin upon an innocent populace.”

“Well said!” Dionysius praised him, slapping the arm of his throne. “I sit in this seat, and every day I am filled with trepidation, never daring to relax my vigilance for a single moment! And yet a common mercenary, a man who knows nothing but brute force, dares to style himself a tyrant!”

Herolis could not stop himself from interjecting. “My lord, this Davos is not a tyrant. He was elected Archon for Life by the people of Amendolara.”

“Herolis, what is the meaning of that remark?” Dionysius’s eyes, as sharp as daggers, fixed on the envoy.

Herolis instantly realized that he had unintentionally touched upon the tyrant’s most sensitive nerve. A cold sweat broke out across his back. He bowed his head, not daring to speak another word.

Dionysius studied him for a long, unnerving moment before finally looking away. “It was nothing more than a little trick,” he said dismissively. “It only proves the young man has a bit of low cunning, which explains how he managed to win a few battles. But he has no true vision. Philistus, do you know the citizen population of Amendolara?”

A dignified, middle-aged man seated to Dionysius’s left spoke. “To my knowledge, they had fewer than four thousand citizens before the war. The number is far lower now.”

“You hear that?” Dionysius said with a shrug, his tone laced with scorn. “Even at its peak, four thousand citizens. That is less than the population of a single district in our Syracuse.” A smattering of sycophantic laughter echoed through the palace.

“If that mercenary captain, whatever his name is, had hurried to my side, I would have rewarded him after our victory over Carthage. He could have had his pick of cities to rule as tyrant—Lilybaeum, Panormus, Eryx, the Aegadian Islands, Segesta… Any of them would be better than rotting in that backwater town of Amendolara. A pity for him. He will not get another chance.” Having made this grand pronouncement, Dionysius turned to Masias. “What is the status of our army for the campaign against Carthage?”

“We currently have over ten thousand mercenaries camped outside Syracuse,” Masias reported, his voice swelling with excitement. “Syracuse itself can mobilize at least forty thousand citizen soldiers. The armies of our allies—Catanae, Leontini, Tauromenium, Pachynus—will add another twenty thousand men. We also have two thousand cavalry. My lord, the army you command is the most powerful in the history of the Greek city-states! Not even Athens at the height of its power could boast such a grand force!”

Dionysius’s expression, however, remained calm. He turned his gaze to his younger brother, Leptines. “And the navy?”

Though they were brothers, Leptines had a simple, honest look about him that contrasted with Dionysius’s sharp intensity. It was this very quality that made Dionysius trust him implicitly, elevating him to the command of Syracuse’s fleet. “We currently have one hundred and fifty triremes,” he answered. “Including other vessels, we have a total of three hundred and twenty warships of various sizes.”

“Still not enough,” Dionysius sighed, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the arm of his throne. “You must all understand that in a war with Carthage, two things are indispensable: warships and cavalry. And we are lacking in both. Leptines, you must go and press our allies to accelerate their shipbuilding. As for the cavalry, Masias, send recruiters to the Italian peninsula and hire Celtic horsemen. Philistus, send a request to Sparta to recruit Thessalian cavalry. We must speed up our preparations! Next spring, we begin the attack on Gela!”

The three men responded at once, vowing to complete their assigned tasks with all possible speed.

“You must work hard, Masias,” Dionysius added, his thoughts still lingering on Davos’s rejection. “If a petty mercenary leader with two thousand men can win a stunning victory against those savage natives, it would be a great shame if we, with the largest army in the Hellenic world, could not achieve an even greater glory.”

“My lord, rest assured, I will not disappoint you,” Masias declared.

“Good, Masias,” Dionysius praised him again, then waved a hand. “Philistus, you will remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Herolis, Masias, Leptines, and two other courtiers bowed and withdrew. Dionysius’s gaze, however, remained fixed on Herolis’s back until he had vanished from sight. It was only when Philistus spoke his name that he turned.

“Don’t you think Herolis has changed?” Dionysius asked, his face clouded with suspicion, his fingers still tapping.

Philistus was startled. He chose his words carefully. “My lord, I have not noticed anything. Herolis seems the same as ever.”

Dionysius glanced at him. “I know you two are on good terms. And I have not forgotten the help he gave me during my most difficult times. I do not wish for anything to spoil our friendship.” His voice grew almost sentimental. “I heard recently that he has taken an interest in Egyptian history. Perhaps we should grant him a leave of absence, so he can focus on his studies…” he murmured to himself.

Philistus’s heart sank. “My lord, I understand.”

“This is only a temporary arrangement,” Dionysius added, a hollow attempt at reassurance. He then changed the subject. “Philly, Philoxenus is a dear friend of yours. Could you not persuade him to visit me? I have just composed a new poem and I wish for the two of you to critique it. You know how it is. The last time we discussed poetry, I misspoke and offended him. He has not come to see me in three months.”

“Philoxenus is a good man, but he is a proud one,” Philistus said, a faint, teasing smile on his lips. “I will do my best to persuade him. But see, my lord? There are times when even the Strategos Autokrator is powerless against a common citizen.”

Dionysius laughed heartily and threw up his hands. “And who, then, can say that I, Dionysius, am a dictator?”

***

During this time, Davos and his Strategos, Philesius, were busy with the complete reorganization of the city-state’s army.

With the mercenaries having become citizens, the total manpower available to Amendolara was approximately 3,500 men: over 1,800 from Davos’s original force, just over 1,000 from the contingents of Drakos, Sextus, and Adrianx, nearly 300 from the newly manumitted slaves, and about 250 men of service age from the original citizen population.

The previous command structure, with the “brigade” as the highest formation, was no longer adequate. After much deliberation, Davos and Philesius decided to add a higher echelon of command. Davos, drawing on his knowledge from a past life, named it the“Legion.”

The new military hierarchy was as follows:

• The Legion: Commanded by a Legion Commander. Notional strength of 7,000 men, comprising six heavy infantry brigades and one light infantry brigade. Davos himself would serve as the first Legion Commander.
• The Brigade: Commanded by a Chiliarch. 1,000 men.
• The Company: Commanded by a Centurion. 200 men, comprising four platoons.
• The Platoon: Commanded by a Platoon Commander. 50 men.

Davos, influenced by his memory of the Roman army, had initially intended to abolish the 50-man platoon in favor of a 100-man century. However, Philesius argued strongly against it, pointing out that the smaller platoon offered far greater flexibility in the chaos of battle and was especially advantageous in mountain warfare. He also argued that a company supported by four distinct platoons had greater independent operational capability. After careful consideration, Davos agreed. From that day forward, the platoon was established as a unique and essential feature of the armies under Davos’s command. The Platoon Commander, as the lowest-ranking officer, became a crucial link in the chain of command, a role so vital that the soldiers would later give them the affectionate moniker “Head of the Soldiers”. In the years to come, many of Davos’s greatest generals would boast of their time as a Platoon Commander, and he would eventually issue a decree that no man could be promoted to a higher legionary rank without first serving two years in that post, making the position even more prestigious.

• The Squad: Commanded by a Decanus or Sergeant Major. 10 men. Five squads per platoon.

In addition to the infantry, the Legion would also include a cavalry detachment, an engineering corps, a medical corps, and a baggage train, bringing its total strength closer to 8,000 men. For now, however, this was all a blueprint.

With his current force of 3,500 men, Davos formed four brigades. The First Brigade was composed entirely of the elite veterans from his original mercenary force. The choice of its commander was a difficult one for Davos and Philesius. In terms of ability and prestige, Antonios and Capus were evenly matched. However, considering that Antonios already held the powerful civic office of Censor—the third most important position in the state after the Archon and the City Administrator—Davos decided that, for the sake of political balance, the command should go to the other man. After speaking with both of them, he appointed Capus as the first Chiliarch of the First Brigade.