Chapter 178

With tender affection, Avenogis stroked his son’s head, a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. After a moment, he turned to Davos and offered his profound thanks. From that point on, the atmosphere in the hall shifted, the distance between the two parties dissolving into a genuine warmth, and the banquet grew lively.

After several cups of wine, Avenogis rose to his feet, his voice booming with newfound confidence. “Lord Davos, we in Laos are considering adopting the same system as your League—an Archon for life! What are your thoughts on this?”

The senators exchanged glances of mild surprise, but Davos’s expression remained serene. He simply smiled and replied, “Our treaty is quite clear on this matter. The League will not interfere in the internal politics of any allied city-state. Our only requirements are that our allies march with us in times of war, maintain a united front in diplomacy, and strengthen our economic ties.”

A wave of relief washed over Avenogis, but his heart clenched again as Davos continued, “However…”

“I do have one small piece of advice for Laos,” Davos said, his tone a careful blend of jest and gravity. “I hope you will do whatever is necessary to ensure the stability of your city. Otherwise, should unrest arise that you cannot quell, we would be obligated to dispatch troops to help you restore order. And sending an army to war is a costly and exhausting affair, would you not agree?”

The senators murmured their assent, their voices echoing Davos’s sentiment.

Avenogis’s worries evaporated completely. In truth, he had no real desire to be an archon for life; the people of Laos were not yet accustomed to the Greek political system. He simply wanted to be the great chieftain of his city. He had chosen the Greek title only to avoid giving the Theonian League the impression that Laos was merely a barbarian town, believing the position was much the same as that of a chieftain. Beaming with pleasure, he declared, “It is a profound honor to be an ally of the Theonian League! I give you my solemn promise, Lord Davos, and to all the esteemed senators, that I, Avenogis, will devote my life to ensuring the stability of Laos, and we shall forever be the staunchest ally of Theonia!”

“Well said!” the assembly roared in unison.

“I must perform a dance for the honorable Lord Davos and for all of you, to express my most sincere gratitude!” Swept up in the chorus of approval, Avenogis was overcome with a jubilant spirit. He drained his cup of wine in a single gulp, strode to the center of the great hall, and, fueled by the wine and the moment, began to dance. With shoulders shaking and body turning in rhythmic circles, he unleashed a powerful, resonant song:

“Upon the highest peaks, There dwells the great Asinus! And we, below the mountain’s shadow, We herd our flocks of cattle and sheep!

A beautiful maiden appears in the forest, Her joyful form like a leaping fawn, And with her every move, she captures my gaze…”

Vesba and Bagulos, recognizing the ancient Lucanian hymn, joined in, their deep voices providing a powerful harmony. Davos and the other senators, though they could not understand the words, tapped their hands in time with the beat, humming softly along with the stirring melody.

In that moment, decades of humiliation and cautious survival were cast aside, swept away by the raw power of the song and the unrestrained vigor of the dance. All that remained in Avenogis’s heart was a pure, unadulterated joy, a catharsis that left him feeling utterly liberated. When he finally returned to his seat, the applause was thunderous and unending.

Scombras, his face flushed with wine, staggered to his feet. “Hic… Our guest from Laos has honored us with a dance!” he slurred. “It is only right that… hic… the League responds in kind! I shall sing for you all… a hymn to Zeus!”

“Bravo! Bravo!” the senators cheered.

***

Only a few days prior, Cincinnag had been lost in a state of euphoria. He had defeated Lusau, the son of Akepilu, and seized the great city of Grumentum. With two major cities under his command, he saw himself as the undisputed new hegemon of all Lucania.

But the series of events that followed served as a harsh reminder that stepping into Akepilu’s shoes would be no simple task.

He had been unwilling to part with the lion’s share of the spoils seized from Akepilu’s tribe, refusing to distribute the wealth and land he had promised to the tribes that had betrayed Lusau. This was partly due to his own avarice, and partly because his own Pixous warriors also expected a reward. When it came to choosing between his own people and his new, fickle allies, the choice was clear.

His betrayal, naturally, ignited the fury of the Grumentum tribes. They united, seizing control of the northern half of the city and forbidding Cincinnag’s men from entering their territory, threatening to drive him out of Grumentum altogether.

Cincinnag was enraged. He already considered himself the master of both Pixous and Grumentum, and he would not suffer such an affront to his authority. On his command, his Pixous warriors clashed with the Grumentum tribes in a series of bloody skirmishes within the city walls. At the same time, he resorted to his old tricks, attempting to bribe and sow discord among the allied tribes, but this time his schemes failed. Not a single chieftain in Grumentum would trust his promises again.

As Cincinnag racked his brain for a way to crush the rebellious tribes, even worse news arrived: Nerulum had been captured.

He immediately summoned the Lucanian shepherds who had fled to Grumentum. When they all told the same story—“countless Greek soldiers entering the city of Nerulum”—a cold dread seized him, and for a long while, he was unable to process the words. He simply could not believe it. Nerulum… taken by the Greeks?

How is this possible? For over a century, since the Lucanians had swept down from the central Apennines, they had only ever conquered the lands of others. Never had one of their great towns fallen to an outside power. Gripped by a desperate disbelief, Cincinnag dispatched his own scouts to verify the news.

Though the northern approaches to Nerulum were heavily guarded, the Lucanians were a people of shepherds and hunters. The scouts slipped into the mountain ranges now controlled by the city and, from the shepherds still grazing their flocks on the high slopes, they gathered undeniable intelligence: Nerulum was now under the rule of the Theonian League, the very same alliance led by the Greek, Davos, who had shattered the Lucanian tribal army.

When the report reached Cincinnag, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him from a clear sky. He was paralyzed by a terror so profound that his first instinct was to flee back to Pixous, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Greek who had brought down the mighty Akepilu.

His next thought was to seek a truce with the Grumentum tribes, to unite against the looming threat of a Greek invasion. But the tribes, sensing his weakness, saw a golden opportunity to press their advantage. They demanded nothing less than the complete withdrawal of all Pixous forces from Grumentum. It was a price Cincinnag could never accept.

Trapped between a powerful external enemy and a festering internal rebellion, Cincinnag could not bring himself to abandon the prize he had sacrificed so much to win. After days of tormented deliberation, he made his decision: he would risk losing Pixous itself. He would summon more warriors from his home city to join him in Grumentum, crush the hostile tribes once and for all, and solidify his control over the heart of the Lucanian territory.

He was just about to dispatch a messenger with the order for Gnaeus, his commander in Pixous, when a guard entered the hall. A Lucanian, claiming to be an envoy from Nerulum, demanded an audience with the great chieftain.

Cincinnag was stunned. After a moment of hesitation, he agreed to see the man.

As Hermon was led into the great Chieftain’s Hall of Grumentum, his eyes darted everywhere. Two rows of fierce, imposing warriors stood ramrod straight at the entrance. At the far end of the hall, seated upon a raised dais, was Cincinnag himself, looking down from his seat of power. Below the three tiers of the dais, the chieftains of the Pixous tribes were seated in two solemn rows.

Hermon took in the imposing grandeur of the hall. It had long been rumored that Akepilu had aspired to be king of all Lucanians. Looking at this audience chamber, so unlike any other tribal hall, he thought there might be some truth to the rumor. A pity it came to nothing…

As his mind wandered, Cincinnag’s voice cut through the silence from above. “I did not expect to see you as an envoy from Nerulum. I heard your city was taken by the Greeks. Is this true?”

Before Nerulum had absorbed his clan, Hermon’s tribe had been one of the most influential in the ‘Fertile Valley,’ and he, as its chieftain, was a man of some renown in the region. He offered a respectful bow. “Great Chieftain Cincinnag, Nerulum is now part of the Theonian League. And Laos, under the leadership of Avenogis, has also become an ally of the Theonian League—”

“What? Laos has also surrendered to the Greeks?!”

“I always said those Greek half-breeds could not be trusted!”

“What are we to do now? Without Laos to distract them, the Greeks can throw their full force against us!”

The hall erupted in a panicked uproar. Hermon’s words had landed like a thunderclap, shattering the composure of the assembled chieftains. Cincinnag, who had so enjoyed the lofty perch that symbolized his supreme authority, now wished it were not so conspicuous, for he could not conceal the fear that gripped him. His knuckles whitened as he clutched the arms of his chair. He looked down at Hermon, standing there with a faint, knowing smile, and the sight of that calm amusement transformed his terror into a burning rage.

“You damned traitor of Nerulum!” he snarled. “Have you forgotten the teachings of Asinus? You have surrendered to our enemies, yet you dare to show your face here? Do you think my dagger is not sharp enough to end you?”

“You are mistaken, Great Chieftain,” Hermon replied, his voice ringing with a confidence that defied the threat. “I have not surrendered. I have become a citizen of the Theonian League. I can still offer sacrifices to Asinus, and if I have the silver, I can even build a temple to him in Thurii or Amendolara without interference. Our sheering festival is still held every autumn in Nerulum, and the Lucanian custom of bride-snatching remains unchanged. The people of Nerulum, like me, have willingly become citizens, yet we are still Lucanians. But now, we have more freedom, more land, more cattle, and we pay but a fraction of the taxes we once did!”

Hermon’s voice swelled with pride as he proclaimed the benefits of his new life. The chieftains and warriors in the hall listened in stunned silence, a single thought running through their minds: Could the Greeks truly be so generous to us Lucanians?

“Davos, the Archon of the Theonian League—the same man who defeated Akepilu—has said, ‘Theonia is a League not only for the Greeks, but for the Lucanians as well!’ If you do not believe me, go and ask Vesba, the chieftain of the Merinid tribe, or his son. They became citizens long ago, and now they both sit as senators in the Theonian Senate! And the League intends to continue—”