Before Croton had even mobilized its army to relieve Crimisa, Aristelas’s spies in the Croton port had gotten word of the massive undertaking.

The next morning, as the mercenary envoy was arriving at Davos’s residence, Davos had already received the news from Aristelas. He knew at once that Timasion and his men were doomed.

Therefore, when the envoy, Pikors, made his desperate plea—“Lord Davos, Chieftain Timasion’s army has captured Crimisa! We wish to join the Theonian alliance and request immediate reinforcements!”—Davos’s expression was grim.

“Pikors,” he said, addressing the man who had once been a translator in Menon’s camp, and later his own subordinate before choosing to leave at Byzantium, “you have come too late. I have just received word. Yesterday at noon, a Croton force of nearly ten thousand men set sail from their port. They would have reached Crimisa by the afternoon. I do not believe Timasion can hold the city.”

“Ten thousand men?!” The news struck Pikors dumb.

“I have sent men to gather intelligence. We should have a clear picture of the situation by midday,” Davos continued.

“Perhaps… perhaps Timasion is still holding out,” Pikors stammered, his mind clinging to a desperate hope. “Lord… Chieftain Davos, for the sake of the times we fought side by side, I beg you… I beg you to send an army to Crimisa at once! If you wait for more news, it will be too late!”

The familiar address of “Chieftain” stirred something in Davos, but he still shook his head. “It is not simply a matter of my will. Such an action requires the consent of the majority of the Senate. And without certain intelligence, they will not agree. If the Crimisans have retaken their city, and a Theonian army enters their territory, it would be a violation of our treaty. It would mean war. War with Croton.”

But Pikors, his mind consumed by a frantic urgency, was not listening. “To rescue our brothers will mean war with Croton regardless!” he cried, his voice rising with a desperate, manic energy. “What are you afraid of? You are the sole Archon for Life of Theonia! You are the one in charge! Send the army, I beg you, Chieftain Davos! The lives of Timasion, Cleanor, and all our brothers hang in the balance!”

Davos shook his head, realizing it was useless to reason with him. “Go and rest. I will notify you when we have news.” He signaled for a slave to lead him away.

Pikors shoved the slave aside. “Davos!” he roared. “If not for Timasion and our brothers, you would have died in Persia! And how have you treated your old comrades? Since we arrived, you have offered no help, only endless frustrations! And now, when their lives are on the line, you refuse to lift a finger, hiding behind excuses about the Senate!”

His furious accusations of ingratitude struck a nerve in Davos. You lied about going to Syracuse while you were planning to attack Crimisa, he thought, his own anger rising. When did you ever speak a word of truth to me? You used me, you used Agasias, hoping to make Theonia take the fall for your reckless ambitions, never once considering the danger you were putting us in. And now that you have failed, you come begging, without a hint of apology. Who is the ungrateful one here? Do you truly think I am so easily manipulated?

But his current station was such that he had no need to argue with a simple-minded mercenary. He simply had his guards throw Pikors out of the residence.

The commotion had been loud. Crystoia, her belly swollen, came down from the second floor, supported by Asuna. “I heard shouting. What happened?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“It is nothing,” Davos said, forcing a smile. “You are so close to your time. You should be resting, not walking about.”

Crystoia, sensing his mood, did not press the matter. “The baby was kicking,” she said, her hands cradling her belly. “It woke me.”

“Little one, be good now. Let your mother rest,” Davos whispered, pressing his face against her stomach.

“Oh! He’s kicking again!” Crystoia said, her voice filled with a sudden, surprised joy.

“My lady, he is so active. He must be a boy,” Asuna said with a smile.

“You mischievous little thing,” Davos murmured, gently patting her belly. “Crystoia, let me walk with you in the courtyard.” In that moment, the troubles of the world seemed to melt away, and both their faces were alight with a pure, simple happiness.

***

Thrown out of Davos’s residence, Pikors was immediately filled with regret. The gates were barred, and no amount of knocking would open them. He went to find Philesius and the others. But Philesius, Capus, and Antonios either refused to see him or, when they did, offered only their apologies, saying they could not help.

It was Agasias who finally told him the truth. “Because of all the trouble the mercenaries have caused lately, Davos and all of us have been under immense pressure in the Senate. And now this… Timasion going behind Theonia’s back to attack Crimisa. In the last meeting, Polyxexis and some of the other Thurian senators openly accused Davos of using the League for the private gain of his mercenary friends. It was the first time since he became Archon that he has faced such a direct and humiliating criticism. Under these circumstances, it is impossible for him to act unilaterally.”

Pikors, listening, only half-understood, but he began to realize that they had grossly oversimplified the situation.

***

By midday, the news from Crimisa arrived: the mercenary army had been annihilated.

Davos sat alone in silence for a long time. At last, he let out a soft sigh. The affair seemed to be over, but he knew it was far from finished.

And indeed, that afternoon, a passenger ship from Croton sailed into the city docks of Thurii. Two men disembarked: the Croton general Lysias, and the leading general of Crimisa, Antaoris.

The senators who were there to receive them understood the meaning of this at once, and their faces grew grim.

From the ship, two bodies were also carried ashore: Timasion and Cleanor. The sight filled Philesius, Agasias, and the other former mercenary senators with a profound sadness.

The Senate meeting that followed was tense from the very beginning.

Antaoris of Crimisa spoke first. With tears streaming down his face, he recounted the atrocities the mercenaries had committed, the suffering of his people. “Why?” he cried, his voice breaking with anguish. “For decades, the people of Crimisa have lived in peace. Why, now, must we suffer the ravages of war again and again? Have we unknowingly offended Ares, that he should vent his wrath upon our heads?”

Lysias surveyed the chamber, noting the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of some of the Theonian senators. The Archon, Davos, seated at the front, listened intently, nodding from time to time with an expression of deep sympathy. Lysias smirked inwardly. He rose, walked to the center of the hall, and embraced Antaoris. Then he turned to the senators.

“Honorable Archon, and esteemed members of the Senate of the Theonian League,” he began, “as the envoy of Croton, I must report that yesterday, Croton sent a relief force in time to save Crimisa from being destroyed by a band of brigands. In our interrogation of the prisoners, we learned that these brigands were mercenaries from Asia Minor, men who once fought alongside Lord Davos and some of you here in Persia for over a year. We learned that they came to Magna Graecia at your invitation, and that they had registered with your census office to become citizens of Theonia. Is this true?”

“It is,” Davos acknowledged without hesitation.

His blunt admission took Lysias by surprise. He paused for a moment, then his voice rose. “According to the prisoners’ testimony, they were acting on the orders of the Theonian League, to seize Crimisa and make it an ally of Theonia—”

“Nonsense!”

“Lies!”

“Slander!”

Amyntas, Drakos, Agasias, and the others leaped to their feet, shouting their denials.

“Deny it all you want, but a fact is a fact,” Lysias retorted, pointing a finger at them. “The bodies of the two brigand chieftains are lying on the docks right now. Some of you were weeping for them only a moment ago. Theonians, you have broken the truce with Croton! Do you still deny it?”

Antaoris, his eyes blazing with fury, pointed at Davos and the senators. “Since you foreigners came to Magna Graecia, there has not been a single day of peace! No, it was not Crimisa that angered Ares. It is you, with your endless expansion and aggression, who have brought war to the city-states of Magna Graecia! The thousand souls of Crimisa who died demand justice! Theonia must be punished!”

The hall erupted in an uproar.

Davos rose to his feet, walked to Antaoris, and gave a cold smile. “I was about to express Theonia’s condolences to Crimisa, and even to offer some form of compensation, though we had nothing to do with this affair.”

Antaoris opened his mouth to retort, but Davos cut him off with a roar. “Silence!”

The general froze, stunned.

“But now I see the truth,” Davos continued, his eyes burning with a cold fire. “The two of you have not come here to seek the truth. You have come here together to conspire against us. So speak. Tell us the terms you have already prepared. Let us hear how harsh they are.” His words, which seized the initiative and exposed their true purpose, left Lysias momentarily speechless and served as a stark reminder to the other senators of what was truly at stake.