Heraclides had been to Amendolara once before, to help a family build a courtyard. But recently, the city’s name had been on the lips of every freeman in the port of Thurii. The mercenary army that had won great fame by annihilating the Lucanian confederacy had all become citizens of Amendolara. Their leader, Davos, had even been made Archon. They had freed the slaves who followed them, and it was said they would eventually be granted citizenship as well. With the resumption of trade, all sorts of news from Amendolara was spreading among the freemen of Thurii. Miraculous things were happening there, things the common people of Thurii had never dared to dream of, yet desperately craved. It was as if a great, thrashing fish had been thrown into the stagnant pond of their lives, stirring up the mud and sand that had settled at the bottom for years.

Even Heraclides, a man who had seen much of the world, could not help but be moved. This is an invitation from Amendolara itself, he thought. Surely their promises can be trusted?

“Can I bring my son with me?” he asked urgently. “His architectural talents are no less than my own!”

“Of course.”

Amidst the envious gazes of those around him, he and his son hastily packed their meager belongings and followed the man to Amendolara. When they met Alexis, his very first words filled Heraclides with a renewed sense of purpose.

“I am Alexis, the Aedile of Amendolara, responsible for the construction, maintenance, and supervision of all the city-state’s public works. No other Greek city has such an office. This shows how seriously Amendolara regards the art of engineering. As long as you have talent in this field, you will be given great responsibility.”

Feeling the city’s deep respect for his craft, the passion for building that had defined his youth began to smolder once more in Heraclides’s old heart.

His first task was to design and build the new warehouses and inns. For a man of his skill, this was a simple matter, and his plans were quickly approved by the Senate. He and his son then led a team of a dozen artisans and nearly a thousand Lucanian slaves and began construction at the foot of the mountain on which Amendolara was built.

Though he was a thin, wiry old man, Heraclides was possessed of a formidable energy and a meticulous attention to detail. He spent his days moving ceaselessly between the various construction sites, pushing for speed, inspecting the quality of the work, sternly reprimanding any who were slacking, and instantly correcting any improper techniques, even demonstrating the correct method himself. If a measurement was off, he would order it redone until it was perfect. The artisans and slaves alike held the old man in a mixture of awe and fear.

Today, Alexis found him at the site and handed him a rolled-up sheet of papyrus. “This is the next project. The construction of a road from the ferry crossing on the River Sinni to the foot of Amendolara, and then on to the crossing on the River Saraceno. You can begin the preparations. The Lord Archon requires that the road be built according to the design in this drawing.”

“Does your Archon know something about everything?” Heraclides could not help but retort. As a master craftsman with years of experience, he had his own pride and principles. He loathed nothing more than an ignorant layman telling him how to do his job.

“I suggest you look at the Lord Archon’s drawing before you say any more,” Alexis advised.

But this ignorant layman is the sole Archon for Life of Amendolara, Heraclides suddenly remembered, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He is the one who holds my son’s future, and my own, in his hands. Decades of hardship had bent his back. As long as his design is not too outrageous, he thought, I will make a few modifications and build it to his specifications.

In that moment, survival triumphed over pride. He unrolled the papyrus and cast a careless eye upon it. But the moment he saw it, his eyes were glued to the page, unable to look away.

Seeing how engrossed he was, Alexis smiled and looked around. The construction site was a hive of activity, dust filling the air as the artisans and slaves worked with a feverish intensity. He hadn’t been here in two days, and the entire site had already changed dramatically. It filled him with excitement. “At this rate, can it be finished in half a year?”

“Half a year? Four months is all I need! And if those Lucanians were a bit smarter, three would be enough,” Heraclides said without looking up.

“It seems you are not satisfied with these slaves,” Alexis said with a laugh.

“They know nothing of construction. I have nearly lost my voice from explaining everything to them. If you’re not satisfied, can you get me a new batch?” Heraclides complained.

“You know that’s impossible.”

“Still, the Lucanians are not as fearsome as I imagined. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they are more afraid of you. That must be why they are so obedient,” Heraclides mused. A man who has lived through war knows what the most important security is.

“It’s not us they fear,” Alexis said with a sigh. “It’s that Lord Davos’s methods have proven effective.”

At the mention of Davos, Heraclides’s gaze returned to the drawing. He pointed to the diagram. “The construction method for the road shown here is far more complex than a typical road, with many more steps. But the more I study it, the more sense it makes. First, the earth is tamped firm. Then, a layer of sand and mud. On top of that, a layer of gravel. And finally, tightly fitted stone pavers. And there are ditches on both sides of the road, with retaining walls beyond them… I can imagine that a road built this way would be resistant to water and sand. It would be both strong and flexible. Even a heavily laden wagon would not easily damage it. I have never seen such a road. It is a truly remarkable design! If this is your Archon’s idea, then he is a master of road engineering!” This time, Heraclides’s praise was utterly sincere.

Alexis had grown numb to Davos’s constant miracles. As long as Heraclides approved the design, he was satisfied. “So you agree to build it according to these plans?”

“Of course! I am eager to see what the finished road will look like!” the old man said, his wrinkled face alight with excitement. But then he pointed to a passage of text on the scroll, a look of confusion on his face. “We all know that mortar for construction is made by slaking limestone with water and mixing it with sand. But this drawing insists that the mortar used to fill the gaps between the stone pavers must not only use limestone, water, and sand, but also a certain amount of volcanic ash. The Lord Archon calls this type of mortar… ‘shui… ni’. Will it really work?”

“Every citizen of Amendolara knows that the Lord Archon Davos is favored by Hades,” Alexis said solemnly. “This must be another piece of inspiration from the Underworld King. I am sure that once you have tried it, you will understand its miraculous properties.”

“You are right. How can one know without trying?” Heraclides’s interest was now fully piqued. “I remember that the island of Sicily and its neighbors are full of volcanoes, places where it is said the god Hephaestus forged his divine weapons in ancient times. We could send a ship to bring back a load of volcanic ash. It should not cost very much.”

“Heraclides,” Alexis said, his expression suddenly turning serious. “Based on your performance and that of your son, the Lord Archon Davos has put forth a proposal, which has been approved by the Senate of Amendolara. You and the younger Heraclides have been made probationary citizens of this city-state. During a two-year probationary period, if you continue to perform well and contribute to Amendolara, you will become full citizens. Congratulations.”

Heraclides froze. His dry lips moved, but no words came out. In the blink of an eye, tears streamed down his weathered cheeks.

Alexis, moved by the sight, softened his tone. “As a probationary citizen of Amendolara, you must know this. The Lord Archon Davos has instructed me to tell you that the formula for ‘shui ni’ is a state secret of the highest order. Besides you and your son, no one else is to know it. If it is ever leaked, the Senate will dispatch the Censor to investigate, and you may be severely punished. You must devise a way to use it while protecting its secret.”

A jolt of alarm shot through Heraclides. He hastily shoved the papyrus scroll into his robes.

***

Eighteen-year-old Alcinous was attending his second military drill. As a newly adult citizen, it was only the second time in his life he had participated in formal training. Before, his father had taught him how to hold a shield and wield a spear, but the rest of his time had been spent studying his letters or exercising with his friends at the gymnasium. Since the war between Thurii and the Lucanians, his life had been turned upside down. His father had been killed in battle, and his mother had died of illness during the captivity. At eighteen, Alcinous had inherited what was left of his family’s estate.

According to the Conscription Law enacted after Davos became Archon for Life, adult male citizens were required to attend a military drill once every six days during the busy farming season, and once every three days during the off-season, between the autumn harvest and the spring planting. Alcinous was desperate to learn the arts of war so that he could one day take to the field and avenge his parents. But his first training session had shattered his romantic illusions of military life. Aside from the fascinating game of olive-ball that the Lord Archon had taught them at the end, the rest of the time had been nothing but grueling, monotonous drills.

The second training session was the same as the first. The new recruits first donned their Corinthian helmets, linen cuirasses, and bronze greaves. Then, carrying their round shields and spears, with swords at their waists, they were forced to march five kilometers in full kit. Those who fell behind were met with the instructor’s wooden rod. He had seen several of the new freedmen soldiers howling in pain after being beaten by the instructors. Though the equipment weighed nearly forty jin, Alcinous, thanks to his good breeding and years of exercise, did not find the burden too great.