Chapter 72

“Is… is Castellum a large city?” Axistes asked curiously.

The guide shook his head. “A small city, built by the old Sybarites. It’s independent now.”

Hearing this, Davos reined in his horse and gazed to the south, a wave of emotion washing over him. To think that in its day, the power of Sybaris had stretched from Amendolara in the north to beyond Castellum in the south… for such a mighty city-state to be utterly destroyed by the weaker Croton! It truly was as the old saying went: “Life springs from sorrow and hardship, while death comes from comfort and ease.”

After a long moment, Davos said, “Let’s head back.”

***

Once the guide had departed, Davos turned to Axistes and Laedes. “Have you ever seen what a hound does when it meets a bear?”

The two men shook their heads. There were no bears in mainland Greece; it wasn’t until they had marched through the mountains of the Taochians that they had even known such a powerful land animal existed.

“Its fur stands on end, it bares its sharp teeth, and it barks furiously at the bear, even feigning a lunge,” Davos said, drawing on a memory of a video he had seen in his past life. His words now carried a deeper meaning. “But in truth, it knows it cannot win. It is only making a show of its strength, to let the bear know that it will not be an easy meal.”

Axistes, young and quick-witted, connected the analogy to the day’s events. “General, are you talking about… the Lucanians in Amendolara?”

“The Lucanians in Amendolara tried to scare us off, but in doing so, they revealed their true intentions and their true strength. I estimate they have no more than a thousand warriors in that city,” Davos said with certainty.

The realization dawned on Laedes as well. His voice trembled with excitement. “General… General, are you planning for us to take Amendolara?”

Axistes’s eyes went wide. Both of them had been present at the secret military council before they left for Magna Graecia; they knew what their army’s true purpose was.

“Brothers,” Davos warned, his voice low and serious, “any plan, before it is put into action, must be swallowed and kept in your gut. Not a single word is to be spoken of it to anyone! If the soldiers find out and a careless word gets out, the Thurians will try to stop us, the Lucanians will strengthen their defenses, and other powers will move to disrupt our plans. They do not want to see a group of foreign outsiders put—down—roots—here! Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” the two men nodded emphatically.

“I’ve decided to sleep with my hand over my mouth from now on,” Axistes joked.

Looking at their excited faces, Davos’s expression became stern once more. “I have a mission for you both. Laedes!”

“Here!”

“You will take your men and monitor all movements from the Lucanian camp to the west and the city of Amendolara to the north. You are to report to me once every day. At the same time, I want you to find a way to learn everything you can about Amendolara’s defenses. The more detailed, the better. But you must not let the Lucanians in the city become aware of your surveillance. Can you do it?”

“Yes, sir!” Laedes gave a sharp military salute.

“Axistes!”

“Here!”

“You are to covertly search for any citizens who escaped from Amendolara. When you find one, use any means necessary to bring them to our camp without the Thurians finding out.”

“Understood!”

***

Burkos listened intently as his guide, Molas, recounted the past two days with Davos. He was astonished by the thoroughness with which Davos had scouted the surrounding area. In his memory, not even the Spartan Cleandridas, whom Thurii had once hailed as a great general, had ever undertaken such personal reconnaissance, let alone faced the enemy alone.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Molas, what is your opinion of this man, Davos?”

Molas thought for a moment. “Master, General Davos is a very kind man.”

As an Egyptian slave, even though Burkos treated him as a trusted confidant, Molas was used to the blatant contempt he received from other Thurian citizens. But he had not sensed any of that from Davos. From start to finish, the young general had spoken to him as an equal, never once being condescending or arrogant.

Burkos nodded. He had felt the same way. Though Davos was a mercenary, he carried himself with the grace of a cultured man.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Well… he is always thinking about something… asking questions. It’s hard to get a read on him. He seems a bit mysterious,” Molas continued.

Strange. Burkos had felt that too. He had dismissed it as his imagination running away with him—after all, Davos was not yet twenty years old. Could this be the aura of a “Hades’ Favored One”? He gave a wry smile. He didn’t put much stock in the rumor that was so popular among the mercenaries.

“And he is very brave. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of the Lucanians at all,” Molas added.

“He is a man who has seen the grandest stages of war. Besides, to charge at the head of the advance and guard the rear during a retreat, these are the marks of a great general. Cleandridas did the same in his day. But Davos is only nineteen!” Burkos said with a sigh. He thought of the man he had visited that morning with Pheresus: Archytas, the young nobleman from Tarentum. When they had met him, he had been lying on the floor, deeply engrossed in some calculation. The rumors that he was the most gifted member of the Pythagorean school were likely true. This young noble from across the gulf was utterly without airs, his manner gentle and polite, and he had sincerely promised to give his full assistance to Thurii in defeating the Lucanians.

Archytas’s promise was invaluable. Before coming to Thurii, he had already led several independent campaigns, successfully repelling the fierce Messapians from Tarentum’s territory. Though he was a man of few words, it was clear that the respect his Tarentine soldiers showed him was genuine, much like the way the mercenaries treated Davos. These are two young men of extraordinary talent, Burkos thought. Why does Thurii have no one like them? He thought of Asikulodoax, the son of Cleandridas, and a wave of disappointment washed over him. Then, a thought struck him: Perhaps I should speak with Pheresus about making Davos a citizen of Thurii.

***

A few days later, the mercenary camp was completed, and the soldiers could finally get a proper rest.

Adrianx and Sextus took the opportunity to pay Davos a visit.

Davos received them with great warmth, and the three commanders spoke with such conviviality that the minor conflict from a few days earlier was completely forgotten. Just as Davos had said, their two mercenary forces were in the same boat. Only by working together could they hope to complete their mission and collect their pay alive.

In fact, the soldiers of the two camps had begun to fraternize long before their leaders officially met. On the one hand, Adrianx’s men were intensely curious about the legendary Greek expeditionary force. On the other, most of the men from both armies hailed from the Ionian region and could be considered fellow countrymen, a bond that felt especially strong in this unfamiliar land. In the end, it had become common for Adrianx’s men to help Davos’s soldiers build their camp, listening to their stories of the expedition as they worked. The commanders on both sides, far from stopping it, were happy to see it happen.

Davos even reached an agreement with Adrianx and Sextus: they would build a covered way connecting their two camps so that if one came under attack, the other could provide aid.

Both sides knew that Adrianx’s inexperienced recruits were far more likely to run into trouble than Davos’s veterans, but Davos agreed without a moment’s hesitation. The gesture was not lost on the two commanders. When he saw them out of the camp, Adrianx and Sextus repeatedly expressed their gratitude, their farewells tinged with a new, sincere respect.

“See? That’s our commander, the Hades’ Favored One Davos!” one of Davos’s soldiers said with pride, pointing to him in the distance.

“That’s Davos? He’s so young,” a soldier from Adrianx’s camp said, looking skeptical.

“What does his age matter?” the first soldier retorted proudly. “Several of Persia’s top generals died at his hands! When he charges, he’s like a lion! Even the Spartans would be afraid of him! Didn’t you see how respectful your own generals were to him?”

Just then, another of Davos’s soldiers chimed in. “And General Davos is incredibly good to us! Even if you’re badly wounded, he will never abandon you! I was once hit by a Persian arrow, and my whole body was burning like fire. I thought I was going to die. It was General Davos who pulled me back from the underworld.” As he spoke, he pulled up his tunic to reveal the wound, displaying it not as a scar, but as a badge of honor.

Hearing this, the other soldier’s face filled with envy. “If only General Davos could lead us too!”