Davos understood at once. So, the ancient Greeks weren’t fools. They also knew how to protect their own economies.

“Amendolara has nothing to protect right now,” Davos declared, his mind made up. “Therefore, we will lower all our customs duties. Where our neighbors charge two percent, we will charge one. Where they charge twenty, we will charge ten. Our goal is to attract people here. Once they come, it will drive the development of our trade, and our citizens will be motivated to find their own opportunities to earn wealth for their families.” Starved for funds, Davos had decided to poach his neighbors’ business.

“My Lord Archon, this is the decision I was waiting for!” Marigi said, his face beaming. He quickly added a word of caution. “However, our relations with Heraclea and Metapontum are good, and they are our allies. I am confident we can negotiate with them. But our relationship with Thurii is poor. If foreign merchants try to transport goods from Thurii to our warehouses and then back to Thurii’s market to sell, they may face obstruction.”

This was indeed a problem. Davos stroked his chin, vexed.

Originally, his mercenary army had a good relationship with Thurii; they were, after all, the city’s saviors. But after they had become citizens of Amendolara, Davos, mindful of the old citizens’ deep-seated hatred for Thurii, had been reluctant to initiate contact. The envoys from Thurii, in turn, had grown angry after being rebuffed several times. In their view, Amendolara had always been Thurii’s “little brother.” This newfound, inexplicable arrogance was a wound to their pride. Furthermore, they felt that Davos and his army had “deceived” them, which only fueled their anger.

As a result, the relationship between the two cities had become strained. This stalemate was detrimental to Amendolara, and to Davos himself. It affected not only his economic and diplomatic plans, but his grand strategic vision, undermining the very promises he had made to the Senate.

In Davos’s grand design, Amendolara was to take advantage of the Lucanians’ weakened state, pressing the attack and invading their lands. But in the past few days, as he had calmed down and carefully studied the maps, and even personally scouted the surrounding terrain, he had discovered a major problem. To the north of Amendolara was Heraclea, an ally backed by the might of Tarentum; he could not move against them. To the south was Thurii. Though its strength had been severely depleted, Davos could not lead an army against it. Thurii had no quarrel with the new Amendolara, and they had once been allies. His men had been invited as their mercenaries. To launch an unprovoked war would undoubtedly arouse the suspicion and anger of every city-state in Magna Graecia, and the fledgling Amendolara could not afford to provoke such a collective wrath.

To the west, it was possible to follow the River Sinni upstream, between Amendolara and Heraclea, and reach the Lucanian heartland. This was the path Vesba and his tribe had taken. Davos had specifically questioned Bagulos about it and learned the truth. The lands to the west were a savage wilderness of dense mountains, crisscrossing rivers and lakes, and thick forests teeming with snakes and insects. Bagulos’s tribe had spent over a year there, and their population had dwindled from over ten thousand to fewer than four thousand. This was why, after capturing Amendolara, Vesba had been so unwilling to return the way he came. Traveling downstream to Amendolara was one thing; marching upstream into Lucania would be a nightmare. The non-combat losses from injury and disease alone would be staggering. And if they were attacked by other Lucanian tribes, they could expect no reinforcements from the rear.

Therefore, the only viable path was to cross the Sybaris Plain and take the rugged mountain road west to Laos. Though the journey was long, it would result in far fewer non-combat casualties. And to cross the Sybaris Plain, he had to have a good relationship with Thurii.

Davos rubbed his chin. His original plan had been to wait, to let the newly formed families of Amendolara settle and for the old hatreds to fade before beginning negotiations. But it was now clear that whether for the sake of his economy or his military ambitions, his relationship with Thurii had become a critical bottleneck that had to be resolved at once.

“Do not worry, Marigi,” Davos said, his mind made up. “This very afternoon, I will convene the Senate to discuss the issue of Thurii. We will find a way to improve our diplomatic relations.”

“My Lord Archon, if you propose it, how could they dare to disagree?” This was not mere flattery from Marigi; it was a simple statement of fact. But Davos also had to consider the feelings of Cornelius and the other old senators. This was a matter that touched upon the unity of the new and old citizens. He did not wish to elaborate on these subtleties with Marigi, who still had a long way to go in understanding the intricacies of Greek politics, so he simply smiled.

Marigi, a keen observer, immediately dropped the subject. “Ah, Lord Davos,” he said, his voice rising with a new idea, “there was one other thought I almost forgot to mention. The physicians in our army’s medical corps are of a very high skill level. When we opened a clinic in the market at Thurii, many of their citizens and freemen came to us for treatment. Over time, more and more patients came, drawn by their reputation. When it was time for us to leave for Amendolara, some of them even begged us not to go. Do you not think we should open a large clinic here in Amendolara? We could attract patients from the neighboring city-states. They would stay in our inns, eat in our taverns, and buy goods in our market, all of which would increase our city’s revenue.”

Marigi’s words were a potent reminder. In his recent flurry of activity, Davos had completely forgotten that Amendolara did possess a unique product to offer: medicine. “A clinic is too small,” he said, a new excitement in his voice. “If we are to build something, let us build a hospital!”

“A hospital?”

“A hospital will not only diagnose and treat patients, but it can also provide lodging for the seriously ill, allowing for continuous observation and treatment, which will better aid their recovery. At the same time, it can be a center for medical research and for hosting medical lectures to train young physicians. I am certain that such an institution would attract a great many patients from far and wide.”

Marigi was dumbstruck. Though he did not fully grasp every detail, he could not help but exclaim, “In all my time in Persia, I have never heard of a clinic being developed into such a thing as you describe. This is… this is truly wonderful!”

“The idea is wonderful, yes, but to achieve it will require us to proceed step by step. For now, we will simply begin the preparations. To be honest, I already owe Herpos two medical lectures I have yet to give.” Davos’s words reminded Marigi that the young man before him was the true leader of the medical corps, a man whom all the physicians spoke of with the deepest reverence. A young man so versed in military strategy, politics, commerce, and medicine… could he be anything other than a gift from the gods? As he walked out of Davos’s residence, Marigi was more certain than ever that he had chosen the right man to follow.

But Davos’s mind was already racing ahead. If I am to make Amendolara a medical center for all of Greece, why not also make it a center for entertainment? At this thought, he immediately strode towards a side room.

Inside, Crystoia was discussing the details of the bank’s lending policies with several freedmen who were serving as her accountants. Nearby, her personal handmaiden, Asuna (an Egyptian slave girl whom Mersis had assigned to the medical corps; Crystoia, discovering her intelligence and finding her a kindred spirit, had requested her from Mersis), was assigning tasks to several new male and female slaves Crystoia had just purchased in Tarentum.

As soon as Davos entered, Asuna saw him and immediately bowed her head. “My lord, you have returned.” The freedmen also rose and bowed respectfully. The new slaves, however, simply stared, confused and unsure of what to do.

“Crystoia, did you find the leatherworker I asked for?” Davos asked.

“I did,” she replied with a sigh. “But the price of one skilled leatherworker was enough to buy four or five common slaves.”

“In commerce, one must take the long view,” Davos said, his tone half-joking, half-serious. He did not dare to be overly familiar in front of the others. “He may be expensive now, but in the future, the money this one man will earn could surpass the price of thousands of slaves.”

“Yes, O great merchant,” Crystoia shot him a playful glare. “In any case, our household needed a leatherworker.” She pointed to one of the new slaves. “That is the one you wanted.”

Davos walked over to the thin, old man, who bowed respectfully. “Master.”

“You are a Greek?” Davos asked, surprised by his features.

“Yes, master.”

“Where are you from? What is your name? How did you become a slave?”

“My name is Toricas. I am from Ephesus. I fell into debt and could not repay it, so I was sold into slavery,” the old man said, his voice calm and devoid of emotion.

“If your craft is good, you will be able to earn enough money to buy your freedom and become a freedman within a few years,” Davos promised.

“My son died in battle, and my wife passed long ago. I am all that is left. If the master does not cast me out, I am content to remain here until I meet the Ferryman.”

The old man’s air of serene resignation left Davos momentarily stunned. He could only nod. “As you wish. You may live out your old age here in peace.” He then led Toricas out to the central courtyard and, with a stick, drew a shape in the soft earth of the flower garden.

“Is that… an olive?” Toricas asked, squinting at the crude drawing.

“This,” Davos said, his eyes shining with a strange, intense light, “is a ball made of cowhide. An olive-ball.”

“An olive-ball?!” Toricas stared, his eyes wide with incomprehension.