Davos then turned to the question that weighed on every senator’s mind. “What of Grumentum to the north? Have you seen any movement from them?”

“On the second day after we captured Nerulum, scouts from Grumentum were spotted entering the ‘Fertile Valley’,” Sextus reported. “They were discovered by soldiers of the Fourth Legion and fled immediately.”

“They learned of Nerulum’s fall that quickly?” Davos asked, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. The initial battle report received by the Senate had claimed that not a single soul had escaped the city’s capture.

“Well… it’s like this…” Seeing the shift in Davos’s expression, Sextus rushed to explain. “Bagulos and I analyzed the situation afterward. We believe that during the assault on Nerulum, there must have been city folk herding their flocks in the hills. When they witnessed the city fall, they likely fled directly to Grumentum. Since that first sighting, however, no other scouts from Grumentum have appeared. We dispatched Izam’s squad to reconnoiter, and combined their findings with information from Lucanians who have fled south, we learned that after the Pixous chieftain, Cincinnag, occupied Grumentum, his relationship with the tribes that had betrayed Lukania has become severely strained. Those tribes now refuse to obey his commands, as he has failed to deliver on the promises he made to them. The two factions now occupy opposite halves of the city, each watching the other with deep suspicion. This internal conflict is likely the reason Grumentum has made no move against our occupation of Nerulum.”

This favorable turn of events in the north did little to lift Davos’s spirits. On the contrary, his face grew hard, and he fixed Sextus with a severe gaze. “And why was none of this reported to the Senate? The Senate does not interfere in your governance of Nerulum, but we are responsible for the entire League. Every piece of intelligence, every report, shapes the strategies we formulate. Should we seek war or peace with Grumentum? Must we mobilize the entire League for battle? Did you truly believe that Nerulum alone could withstand an assault from the full might of the Lucanian Grand Army?”

Davos’s sharp, unsparing rebuke left Sextus unable to lift his head. Axistes, standing beside him, felt a hot flush of shame. He had, in fact, been prepared to send a report, but Sextus had dissuaded him, saying, ‘Let’s wait until we have a clearer picture. If we run to the Senate for every little thing, it will make us look incompetent.’ Spurred by a young man’s desire to prove his mettle, Axistes had agreed. By the time they had unraveled the whole situation, word arrived that Davos was coming, and so the matter was set aside. He had never imagined it would provoke such a furious reaction.

“Praetor Sextus!” Scombras’s voice boomed across the chamber. “You have already violated a direct order of the Senate by unlawfully executing prisoners of war! It was only because the Archon himself pleaded your case that the Senate did not pursue the matter further. Now you act on your own authority again, concealing vital intelligence as if the Senate’s oversight means nothing to you. Do you imagine that your two-year term makes you immune to impeachment?”

One by one, the other senators voiced their own sharp disapproval of Sextus’s actions. Through it all, Sextus remained silent, his face burning crimson, wisely choosing not to offer any defense.

Naturally, Davos had no intention of allowing the praetor he had personally recommended to be endlessly berated. He stepped in to smooth the waters. “Your accomplishments still outweigh this error. But I hope you will take this lesson to heart. Maintain constant communication with the Senate so that we are always aware of the situation in the Lucanian territories.” Even as he spoke the words of reconciliation, Davos made a private resolution: upon his return, he would increase the funding for the personal intelligence network he controlled and instruct Aristelas to expand its operational range.

“Is there anything else you have forgotten to report?” Davos asked, his final words carrying a pointed warning.

“My lords,” Axistes said, his face still flushed as he summoned his courage. “Two days ago, a Lucanian family came to us with a complaint. Their daughter had married a Greek man. After this man used the marriage to secure preparatory citizenship and lease his allotted land, he began to abuse her, beating and cursing her daily, and now threatens to divorce her. We investigated and found their claims to be substantially true. We warned the Greek that if he dared to divorce her, we would revoke his citizenship and expel him from the League. But I fear this is not an isolated incident, and I hope the Senate will give this matter its full attention.”

“You did the right thing,” Scombras said, his voice thick with anger. Though he held no great affection for the Lucanians, he despised those who exploited the law with such petty cunning. “But for such a shameless man, I say a good caning is in order, to serve as a warning to others!”

“It seems we must investigate the state of all the marriages between our freemen and the women of Thurii,” Davos mused. “And we will need to amend the marriage laws we previously enacted. We should add stipulations—a mandatory period of five or eight years before a divorce can be granted, otherwise…”

His words found purchase with the senators, and a vigorous discussion on amending the marriage laws ensued.

Later that night, after the others had departed, Axistes sought out Davos alone and offered a sincere apology for his error. Davos did not chastise him. Instead, he praised the young man, telling him his performance in Nerulum had exceeded all expectations. He expressed his hope that Axistes would continue to play a vital role in the city, and urged him to stand by his own judgment, to not be swayed by the opinions of others.

The following morning, the hopes of the Theonian senators were not in vain. Avenogis of Laos arrived in a grand procession, driving great herds of cattle and sheep before him. His wagons were laden with animal pelts, precious jewels—mostly amber acquired through trade with Massalia—and a gift of ten talents of silver, a token of Laos’s gratitude for Theonia’s aid. With this magnificent display, all complaints from the senators vanished. A simple yet solemn banquet was immediately arranged in Avenogis’s honor.

The feast was held in the praetor’s residence in Nerulum. Davos and all the visiting senators, including Sextus and Bagulos, were in attendance. From Laos, however, there were only two guests: Avenogis and his seventeen-year-old son, Henipolis. They were given the seats of honor, just to the left of Davos.

Avenogis appeared to be in his forties, a stout man whose features bore a stronger resemblance to the Lucanians than to the Greeks. He had an honest, rustic air about him, and though he wore a Greek chiton, his movements were stiff and unnatural, as if he were unaccustomed to such attire. His son, by contrast, was slender and delicate, his fine robes flowing around him with an effortless grace that bespoke the style of a young Greek aristocrat.

Despite Davos’s youth, Avenogis treated him with the utmost reverence. As they entered the great hall, he remained a respectful half-step behind, and in conversation, he never failed to use the most deferential of terms. Henipolis, however, was of a different mold. The moment he was seated, he blurted out, “I have heard that Greeks recline at their banquets. Why is this one different?”

Avenogis shot his son a sharp, warning glance. Across the table, Scombras chuckled. “Young man, you seem to be very knowledgeable about the Greek way of life.”

“Of course I am,” Henipolis retorted brashly. “I am a Greek.” His impertinence earned him a light tap from his father.

“Our League’s hospital has conducted studies and concluded that eating while reclining is detrimental to digestion and leads to corpulence,” Scombras explained with an amiable smile, adopting the tolerant tone Greek elders traditionally used with handsome youths. The research, of course, had been commissioned by Davos and disseminated by Herpos to his patients. “Eating while seated allows food to travel properly to the stomach and is far better for one’s health. For an old man like myself, this is of great importance. Naturally, we choose the proper way to dine.”

“Even in our remote city of Laos, the skill of Theonia’s physicians is praised. What they say must certainly be correct,” Avenogis interjected smoothly. But before he could continue, Henipolis leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“I heard the physicians of your League were taught by the God of the Underworld himself! Is that true?”

Davos offered a noncommittal smile. “That is a matter of which I have little knowledge. If you have the chance, you should travel to Thurii and ask Herpos, the director of the hospital, yourself.”

To everyone’s surprise, Henipolis nodded vigorously. “Yes, I will go to Thurii soon. I will ask this… uh… Herpos you speak of.”

The senators exchanged puzzled glances.

It was then that Avenogis spoke again, his tone turning serious. “Lord Davos, I have a request.”

“Please, speak freely.”

“I wish for my son to live with you, in the League.”

The statement sent another ripple of shock through the room.

“Lord Avenogis,” Davos began, choosing his words with care, suspecting the chieftain feared betrayal, “the alliance between our League and Laos is a sacred pact, sworn before the gods. Unless Laos breaks this covenant, the Theonian League will never, under any circumstances, forsake its oath. Of that, you can be assured.”

“Lord Davos, your reputation for honoring your word is known throughout Magna Graecia. I have no doubt of your commitment,” Avenogis replied, a weary smile on his face. “My request has nothing to do with the treaty. It is… ah… my son has been frail since he was a child. Earlier this year, a terrible fever nearly sent him to see Asi… to the underworld. I have heard of the legendary skill of your physicians, and my son has always longed for the culture of the Greeks. I know this request is a burden, but as a father… I pray the League will grant my wish.”

Avenogis spoke with such heartfelt sincerity that Davos and the senators, after a silent exchange of glances, came to a decision. “In that case,” Davos announced, “on behalf of the League, I welcome Henipolis to be our long-term guest in Thurii. We will provide him with the finest medical care and education, so that he may live a healthy and happy life among us, and one day return to Laos to inherit the legacy of his father, Lord Avenogis. For he is, after all, your only son.”

The words had barely left his lips when Henipolis let out a whoop of joy. “Wonderful! I’m going to Thurii!”