Chapter 66

While his army was setting up camp, Burkos was in the city’s bouleuterion, facing an interrogation by the senators of Thurii.

Thurii’s political system was similar to that of Athens, after all, it was a city founded under Athenian leadership. Day-to-day administration was managed by a council of ten senators. But unlike in Athens, where the senators were elected directly by the citizen assembly, Thurii’s system was born of its unique origins. The city’s original colonists had come from ten different regions of Greece: Arcadia, Achaea, Boeotia, Ionia, Athens, and the Dorian territories, among others. Therefore, in the annual elections, the Thurian citizens from each of these ten founding tribes would each select one senator. The position of strategos autokrator, or chief senator, had always been held by a descendant of the Athenian tribe.

However, after the end of the Peloponnesian War and Athens’s defeat, a new political reality emerged. To forestall retaliation from Sparta and its powerful allies in Magna Graecia, strong city-states like Tarentum, Croton, and Syracuse, a movement led by Kunogelata of the Arcadian tribe successfully pushed for the expulsion of all citizens of Athenian descent. From that point on, Thurii was governed by only nine senators. The chief senator was no longer an inherited position but was elected by the council from among the nine tribally-chosen generals. Kunogelata had held the position of chief senator for four consecutive years. It was only after last year’s disastrous defeat at the hands of the Lucanians that the citizen assembly had cast the majority of their votes for Pheresus, whom they believed to be the most militarily capable. Though he had lost the chief senatorship, Kunogelata was still elected as one of the nine senator; his prestige among the Arcadian tribe was simply too great.

Now, he held the mercenary contract signed by Burkos. “Burkos,” he began, “as the man responsible for recruiting soldiers abroad, you should be well aware of the going rate for mercenaries throughout the Greek world. What is the approximate price?”

“Generally, about half a gold daric per month,” Burkos answered truthfully.

“Very good. That aligns with my own information. I notice that of the two contracts, the first does indeed stipulate a wage of half a daric per month. But in the second contract—” Kunogelata turned to face the other generals and raised his voice. “For a force of roughly the same size, also two thousand men, the price you have offered is two gold darics a month!”

A murmur of shock went through the assembled senators.

Before Burkos could explain, Kunogelata held up the parchment scroll. “And that is not all! You have signed them on for a six-month term! According to this agreement, we must pay them two gold darics a month, regardless of whether the war is over or not! Think of it, gentlemen! If the Lucanians delay their attack, these mercenaries, according to this contract, could earn nearly twenty-five thousand gold coins in six months without lifting a single finger!”

“By the gods, this is outrageous!” another senator, Neanthis, exclaimed angrily amidst the renewed gasps of disbelief. “Last year, to fund the army Thurii sent against the Lucanians, the treasury disbursed three hundred talents of silver, all for nothing! Then, another fifty talents to provide for the families of the fallen citizens. Then, to defend the city against a siege—forging weapons, repairing the walls, calling up the citizen militia—another one hundred and fifty talents! And this year, to purchase food to supply the Tarentine reinforcements and these mercenaries, and to rebuild the destroyed villages and farms, we have already spent one hundred and twenty talents, and it is still not enough! The war has not even begun, and our treasury is nearly empty! We were just recently debating whether to levy a special war tax on the citizens! This is the wealth Thurii has accumulated over many years, the product of our citizens’ hard-paid taxes! As the general responsible for the city’s finances, I cannot tolerate such an absurd agreement! I will refuse to pay their wages!”

“Yes! We will not recognize this contract!” a majority of the senators voiced their assent.

At this point, the chief senator, Pheresus, finally spoke. “Kunogelata, the intelligence that the Lucanians are massing their forces at Laos has been confirmed. We are all aware of this. Therefore, the possibility of them not attacking within the next six months does not exist. A large army, once assembled, consumes a vast amount of grain. The Lucanian territories do not have the agricultural capacity to support such a force for half a year. And if they were to assemble an army only to disband it, it would fatally weaken the prestige of their paramount chieftain. Barring some extraordinary event, the Lucanian attack will come, and it will come soon. At this critical moment, we need more soldiers to help us defend against their invasion.”

“Pheresus, you cannot rule out the unexpected,” Kunogelata retorted. “Everyone thought the Lucanians would besiege the city after their great victory, but then a plague struck them, and they were forced to retreat. The enemy’s actions are not the key issue here. The key issue is that this contract ensures that those mercenaries profit no matter the circumstances, while Thurii is always at a disadvantage! That is the problem! I do not believe that Burkos, the man you recommended, has acted in the city’s best interest on this mission! Look at the terms he has granted these mercenaries! It is not just the wages! Look at this clause…” Kunogelata read aloud from the contract in a booming voice, “‘The mercenary army led by Davos is responsible only for the defense of Thurii and for repelling Lucanian attacks on its territory. Any other military objectives must be decided by separate negotiation between both parties…’” He lowered the scroll and sneered at Burkos. “Are you certain you recruited mercenaries and not Spartan warriors? We are the ones paying! We are the masters! But now you have made these mercenaries into honored guests, whose permission we must seek for every little thing! I now have serious reason to suspect that Burkos has made a private deal with this mercenary commander! I demand that we send a treasurer to investigate him!”

“That is enough, Kunogelata!” Pheresus could no longer contain his anger. “Though I recommended Burkos, his appointment was discussed and approved by all the senators here. And if you recall, you were the second to give your assent! That means his abilities were recognized by all of us. In such a short time, he has traveled far and wide, worked tirelessly, and has swiftly recruited over four thousand soldiers for Thurii, solving our manpower shortage in one fell swoop! He has brought peace of mind to our citizens and secured the safety of our city! He should be rewarded by the city and thanked by its people, yet here he is, forced to endure your insults! Is this how Thurii treats a citizen who has contributed so much to the state? If so, what citizen will ever volunteer to serve Thurii in the future?” Pheresus’s words plunged the bouleuterion into a temporary silence.

Burkos seized the moment. “I did not realize the city’s finances were in such a dire state. However, the reason I signed this contract and recruited these soldiers is twofold: first, because the situation was urgent, and second, because they are worth it. They may not be Spartan warriors, but they are no less formidable!”

His statement immediately captured everyone’s attention. Neanthis was clearly skeptical. “Everyone knows that Spartans are trained as warriors from childhood. That is what makes them so terrifying when they grow up,” he said sarcastically. “Is there a second city-state in the world with a similar system? Oh, wait… there is the Persian Immortals, as written in Herodotus’s Histories. Are these men Persians?”

Burkos stared coldly at Neanthis. “As a matter of fact, these soldiers do have a connection to the Persians.”

“Oh?” Pheresus asked, his interest piqued. “Does this mercenary army have a special history?”

With the eyes of every general now fixed upon him, Burkos glanced at Polyxexis, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. Then, calmly and deliberately, he began his story. “After receiving my commission from you, my fellow senators, I set sail that very day. As I was crossing the Adriatic Sea, I was attacked by two pirate ships and was nearly captured. But thanks to the blessings of Poseidon, a great wind arose. At the risk of my ship being capsized, I managed to escape. I sailed all the way to the island of Crete before I could go ashore to rest and make repairs. My original plan was to recruit some archers there. But the locals told me, ‘You can recruit a few men, but if you need a large number, you must get permission from Sparta, as Crete is now part of the Spartan League.’ They also informed me that most mercenaries were now gathered in Asia Minor and advised me to go there, but again, they stressed it would be best to first obtain Sparta’s permission to recruit. After careful consideration, I decided to make a journey to Sparta itself.”

Several of the senators shifted nervously in their seats. Although they had expelled the citizens of Athenian descent to appease Sparta and its allies, they had no way of knowing what Sparta’s true attitude toward Thurii was.