Chapter 89

“How could you! You can’t! You swore an oath before the gods!” Burkos pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “General Davos, I’m begging you! Make your soldiers stay! Help Thurii one more time! Your pay… we’ll double your pay! You need weapons… Thurii has plenty, I’ll have them shipped to you right now! You need men… you saw the battle today, Thurii lost more than two thousand men, we simply have no one left to give!” Burkos wailed, nearly collapsing to his knees.

But Davos’s expression only turned to ice.

“I’ll think of something… something else…” Burkos stammered in a panic. “Oh! While Thurii has no more soldiers, we have plenty of slaves from the copper and stone mines! They’re all strong, able-bodied young men. You can have as many as you want!”

Davos stroked his chin, pretending to consider the offer for a long moment before replying with great reluctance. “…Very well… but I have no food to feed these slaves.”

“The city of Thurii has food and grain in abundance! You can have as much as you need!” As long as Davos agreed to stay, it seemed Burkos would agree to any demand he made.

That night, the entire city of Thurii was a hive of activity. Swallowing their grief, the citizens worked tirelessly for their survival. A fleet of over a hundred cargo boats was loaded with weapons, food, and slaves. They even added tents, for the Tarentum reinforcements had refused to enter the city and preferred to stay in the mercenary camp. All of it was sent downriver to the simple pier at the mouth of the Crati.

Davos ordered Mersis and his quartermaster staff to oversee the reception of the goods, while the soldiers were sent to get an early night’s rest to recover their strength.

***

At the first light of dawn, the mercenaries were already assembled in formation before their camp. Davos inspected them, riding past their lines, and nodded in satisfaction at their high spirits.

“Matonis, are you ready?” Davos asked, looking at his old comrade who was at the front, itching for a fight.

“I can’t wait!” Matonis bellowed back.

“You’ll have more than enough enemies to kill in a moment. To guarantee victory, each of our brothers will have to take down three of theirs. Are you confident you can do it?” Davos asked with a grin.

“Yes!” The unified roar of the surrounding soldiers was punctuated by Matonis’s indignant shout: “Three isn’t enough for me!”

Davos laughed heartily. He swung himself onto the warhorse that Axistes held ready for him and rode to the front of the army. Facing the countless burning gazes, alight with excitement and expectation, he raised his voice. “Brothers! I see hope in your eyes! After the battle today, I want you to turn that hope into reality! Hades will protect you!”

“Victory!”

“Victory!”

“Victory!”

***

Amid the thunderous, unceasing cheers, Davos turned to Philesius and said gravely, “I will be waiting for your good news.”

“Rest assured, General,” Philesius replied, his voice trembling with emotion. “With the blessing of Hades, we will succeed!”

***

Davos watched until the column of mercenaries marching north disappeared into the morning mist. He took a long, deep breath. He knew the battle that would decide his fate was about to begin.

“Axistes, back to camp! Let us begin our own preparations!” he shouted, his voice powerful and thrilled.

“Yes, General!” Axistes’s reply was just as forceful.

***

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like an army on the march,” a sentry on the walls of Thurii said to his companion.

“Could it be the Lucanians, coming to attack us?!” the other sentry replied in alarm, having heard it too.

“Quick, ring the warning bell! Alert the citizens!” The first sentry scrambled toward the gatehouse tower.

But by the time the citizen-soldiers of Thurii had rushed to their posts on the walls, the world outside had fallen silent once more.

The cavalry refused to ride out and scout the fog-shrouded landscape. All they could do was wait for the mist to burn away.

***

By mid-morning, the sun was high in the sky and the fog had dissipated.

Horns blared throughout the camp of the allied Lucanian army as the warriors began preparing to advance onto the Sybarite Plain.

At that moment, a scout burst into the camp. “Enemies approaching! We have enemies approaching!”

Enemies dare to attack our camp? The Lucanian warriors looked toward the camp entrance, their curiosity piqued.

Outside the camp, two hundred fully armed Greek hoplites had appeared. Under the watchful eyes of over ten thousand men, they calmly halted a hundred meters from the camp and began to hurl round objects into it.

As the objects landed, the warriors realized what they were: the severed heads of the Lucanians who had died outside the mercenary camp the day before.¹ Their bodies had been left behind in the traps, as retrieving them was deemed too risky. Now, their heads were returned, their ears cut off, their eyes gouged out—a gruesome, tragic sight.

Just as the warriors’ fury was ignited, the Greek soldiers outside lifted their war tunics, urinating in the direction of the camp while screaming insults.

The Lucanian warriors exploded in rage. They broke past the restraints of their chieftains, and a thousand men surged out of the camp, charging ferociously toward the Greek soldiers.

The Greeks immediately turned and fled. The pursuing Lucanians chased them relentlessly around a mountain ridge, only to find nearly two thousand Greek soldiers waiting for them in battle formation. It was too late to retreat. A volley of javelins rained down, felling a swath of the charging Lucanians. A single, powerful counter-charge completely shattered their will to fight.

Then, the Greek soldiers began to hunt them down. In full view of the Lucanian camp, they swiftly ran down the fleeing warriors one by one. To ensure each kill, they would stab the fallen men several more times.

This brutal method of slaughter, combined with the agonizing screams of their kinsmen, ignited an unbearable fire in the hearts of the Lucanian warriors and chieftains watching from the camp. Yet, they were also deterred by the enemy’s numbers and sheer ferocity. Chieftains began to approach the paramount chieftain of Grumentum, demanding to be allowed to fight.

Before Akperu could respond, Gnaenat shouted, “I know them! Those are the same damn mercenaries we fought yesterday!”

Akperu’s eyes widened. “My boy, are you certain?!”

“I’d recognize them even if they beat me to death!” Gnaenat replied, the very picture of bitter hatred.

“Paramount Chieftain, let me lead three thousand warriors to drive them off and avenge our Pyxous kinsmen!” Sevella stepped forward, requesting permission to attack.

Gnaenat shot him a glare and also stepped forward to volunteer.

Akperu’s voice boomed over the din. “These Greek mercenaries dare to leave their camp to harass us! Excellent! We will annihilate them all here and save ourselves the trouble of assaulting their camp!” His voice grew more impassioned with every word. “Sound the horns for the attack! The entire army will form up outside the camp! After we crush them, we will advance onto the Sybarite Plain!”

The chieftains, their blood boiling with equal fervor, roared their assent. Only Sedorum, the paramount chieftain of Veii, remained silent.

Akperu’s gaze fell on him. “Sedorum,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “do you have an issue with my decision?”

Sedorum gave a bitter smile. “Paramount Chieftain, I will absolutely obey your command. It’s just… after last night, the warriors of Veii are unwilling… they refuse to take the field again.”

“Is that so?!” Akperu’s eyes flashed with anger.

“The men are saying, ‘If we go to the battlefield, we get killed by the enemy. If we stay here, we get killed by our own side. Since we’re going to be killed either way, we might as well lie down in the camp and let our allies kill us. At least it’s less tiring.’ I’ve tried to persuade them, but they refuse to listen,” Sedorum said, his head bowed, but the words flowed from his mouth with perfect smoothness.

“Akperu, the men of Veii are disobeying a direct order! This is treachery! We must arrest them all at once!” Cincinnag jumped in, pointing an accusing finger at Sedorum.

Sedorum’s face paled slightly.

Akperu cut Cincinnag off. “Enough. Since the warriors of Veii are unwilling to fight, they will remain behind and guard the camp.”

Sedorum breathed a sigh of relief. Cincinnag started to protest again, but Akperu waved his hand impatiently. “The Pyxous warriors also suffered heavy losses yesterday. They will stay behind with the men of Veii to guard the camp. After we have repelled the Greeks, you will follow with the livestock, tents, equipment, and all other supplies to the Sybarite Plain.”

Cincinnag stopped arguing. He accepted the order gladly and even silenced his son Gnaenat’s objections. But this did nothing to lessen Akperu’s disgust for him. After the debacle the previous day, Akperu had intended to let Sedorum execute a few dozen of his most seriously wounded men to satisfy the blood price. Cincinnag, however, had stubbornly insisted that exactly one hundred and fifty Veii warriors be sacrificed. That act had clearly and irrevocably alienated the men of Veii.

Looking at Sedorum’s expressionless face, Akperu knew he would have to seriously reconsider the matter of Veii in the future. But for now, the Sybarite Plain was his primary objective. He would have to let the Pyxous keep an eye on these foreigners for the time being.

The attack horns continued to sound as the Lucanian warriors poured out of their camp and began to form their battle lines.