“And what do you think you are in the eyes of men like Timasion and Cleanor?” Davos’s lip curled into a sneer. “If I were to leave you, your wife, and your daughter here, just imagine what would happen to them.”

“You said you would send me to Asia Minor!” Marigi cried out, his voice a mixture of grief and fury.

“Asia Minor is about to be plunged into war. Weren’t you listening just now?”

“I… I could go to the remote mountains of Asia Minor, live a hidden life!” Marigi retorted, though his defiance was weakening.

“That would be a terrible waste of your talents, Marigi. I’ve always believed that Cyrus the Younger squandered your abilities by making you a mere purveyor to his court. Of course, in Persia, your birth held you back. But with me, you will face no such limitations. I will give you a vast world in which to display your true capabilities,” Davos promised.

“Follow you?” Marigi scoffed, a corner of his mouth twisting. “To go fight some more natives, and then what? Proclaim ourselves kings of a ‘small village’?”

“Marigi, there is an old saying in the East: ‘For thirty years, the river flows east; for thirty years, it flows west.’ Your own Cyrus the Great, the founder of the Persian Empire, was once nothing more than the chieftain of a small Persian tribe, constantly bullied by the Medes. Who could have known that in a few decades he would establish a mighty empire? Today, I am merely the general of a mercenary army. But in a few decades, who is to say I will not have my own day of glory?” Davos declared, his voice ringing with absolute confidence and ambition.

“You… how can you compare yourself to Cyrus the Great?” Marigi said dismissively, though his voice had lost its edge. The fire in Davos’s eyes was so intense he dared not meet his gaze. After a long, hesitant pause, he mumbled, “Do I have a choice?”

Davos smiled. “What do you think?”

“If… if you truly succeed, what would you have me do?” Marigi asked, finally lifting his head to meet Davos’s eyes.

Davos considered this for a moment, then held up two fingers. “Two choices,” he said seriously. “First, you could serve as my Minister of Foreign Affairs, responsible for all diplomatic matters with other city-states. Second, I will create a new position: Commissioner of Commerce, responsible for all trade and business affairs.”

Marigi hesitated, weighing his options, before finally making his decision. “The last negotiation with the Kthokant tribe was more than enough terror for one lifetime. I’ll choose the second option.”

“Good,” Davos said, sealing the promise. “I will hold the position for you.”

***

The next day, Burkos was ecstatic to learn that all of Davos’s officers had agreed to go to Thurii. Davos tasked Marigi with negotiating the final employment contract, freeing himself to focus on convincing the common soldiers.

In truth, most of the mercenaries were destitute. With nothing to tie them down, they had chosen a life of licking blood from the blade’s edge. The long years of war had made them unfit for a peaceful existence. The stark contrast between their deep nostalgia for home while in Persia and the cold reception they received upon returning to the Greek world had left them disillusioned. Under the spell of Davos’s charisma and the lure of Thurii’s generous pay, only about three hundred soldiers chose to remain behind. All the rest were willing to follow Davos to Magna Graecia. At the same time, the officers’ recruitment efforts in the other camps bore fruit. With the prospect of returning home so near, the other generals had neither the will nor the ability to control their men. Soldiers began to trickle into Davos’s camp, and by evening, his army had swelled to over two thousand men. Among the newcomers was, remarkably, another general named Hieronymus.

The heated contract negotiations also came to a close. The main terms of the final agreement were as follows:

• Number One: The city of Thurii hires the army led by General Davos, numbering two thousand, one hundred, and thirty-three men. The wage shall be two gold darics per soldier per month, to be paid in full at the end of each month. Thurii will also provide lodging and daily provisions of one pound of wheat flour per man, free of charge. Should any payment or provision be delayed, the amount due for the following month shall be doubled. (This was a lesson learned from the disaster with Cyrus the Younger, whose premature death left the mercenaries without a single coin of their promised pay, forcing them to fight their way back from Persia over the course of a year.)
• Number Two: The mercenary army is responsible only for the defense of Thurii and for repelling Lucanian attacks on its immediate territory. Any other military objectives shall be subject to separate negotiations. (This was Davos’s measure to prevent mission creep and to protect his forces from being wasted on excessively difficult tasks, such as invading Lucanian territory.)
• Number Three: Upon arrival, the mercenary army shall not violate the laws of Thurii. Any violations will be punished according to Thurian law.
• Number Four: The mercenary army shall not enter the city of Thurii without permission.
• Number Five: All spoils of war captured by the mercenary army shall belong to the mercenary army.

The agreement was signed to be executed from the first day of April in the second year of the 95th Olympiad (399 B.C.) until the first day of April of the following year. Upon its expiration, both parties may choose to renew it.

After Burkos, in the name of the Thurian assembly, and Davos swore an oath to the gods, they each signed their names on the two copies of the agreement written on parchment. (Under Crystoia’s tutelage, Davos had begun to master the Greek script.)

As he tucked the parchment into his tunic, Burkos asked in a seemingly casual tone, “General Davos, there is one thing I don’t quite understand. You plan to bring all those slaves and women, nearly five hundred of them, to Thurii? You will have to pay for their food out of your own pocket and protect them from Lucanian raids. They are clearly a burden. Wouldn’t it be better to sell them here?”

Davos knew he had to answer carefully to avoid arousing suspicion. “Most of the mercenaries are single men,” he explained earnestly. “They don’t have the money to buy slaves to help with chores, nor can they afford wives. They consider the slaves and women they captured in Persia to be their most valuable property. If I were to leave them behind, I fear the soldiers would refuse to go to Thurii.”

“There’s really no need. In a year’s time, they will all be rich men,” Burkos said with a lighthearted laugh, his mood buoyed by the successful signing of the contract.

“They have to be alive for that to matter,” Davos countered grimly.

“Alright, then.” Burkos shrugged helplessly. “I was only worried they might interfere with your ability to fight. Since the agreement is signed, we will set out tomorrow. I have already arranged for the ships. I must hurry back to the city now to prepare food and water according to your army’s numbers.”

“Cleander has allowed us to enter the city?”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Burkos slapped his forehead. “Cleander has given you permission to enter, but he demands that you enter empty-handed.”

“Empty-handed?” A chill went down Davos’s spine.

“That means leaving your shields, spears, and swords behind,” Burkos explained, trying to sound reassuring. “But don’t worry about it. When we get to Thurii, we will equip you all with new weapons.”

“No,” Davos said, his expression turning deadly serious. “That is a problem. A very big problem.” He enunciated each word with sharp precision. “We will never surrender our weapons.” He wasn’t just thinking of the betrayal of Clearchus and the other generals. On their journey back, they had encountered numerous tribes who had greeted them with smiles one moment only to draw their blades the next. What if this was a trap by Cleander? If his men entered the city unarmed, they would be lambs to the slaughter. Davos would never allow his survival to rest in another man’s hands. His weapons were his only guarantee.

“But if you don’t surrender your weapons, Cleander won’t let you into the city, and we won’t be able to depart!” Burkos said, his voice rising in panic.

Davos thought for a moment, then offered a compromise. “I will have my men wrap their spearheads in cloth and keep their swords sheathed. But we will not, under any circumstances, give up our weapons,” he repeated, his tone final.

Seeing Davos’s unyielding stance, Burkos had no choice but to concede. “Very well. I will go and negotiate with Cleander again.”