Chapter 93

“Paramount Chieftain, when Akperu returns and sees this, he’ll likely go mad,” Saru said, an unspeakable satisfaction in his voice as he stood at the mountain pass, gazing down at the still-burning camp.

“And what if he does? A mad Akperu can still command a great army and break the walls of Veii!” Sedorum replied grimly. He still harbored resentment toward Saru for his unauthorized attack on the Pyxous, an act that had forced his hand.

“The walls of Veii are not so easily broken,” Saru retorted, equally resentful. “If we fortify the mountain passes, they will have to attack uphill. It’s doubtful they could even reach the city walls! We should never have yielded to their threats and joined this cursed alliance in the first place!”

“Saru, that’s easy for you to say! The men of Laos are intimately familiar with our terrain. We have no reinforcements; every warrior who dies is a permanent loss. We don’t have enough food. It’s a war we cannot afford to fight!” Sedorum lamented, laying bare his own sense of helplessness.

“Don’t worry, Paramount Chieftain,” Saru said, his voice now full of confidence as he tried to reassure his leader. “I don’t think the allied Lucanian army will be coming back. Didn’t you hear what that guard of Akperu’s said when he came for aid? The Lucanians were ambushed and were in such a desperate state they had to send for reinforcements. The situation must be dire for them!”

“Let’s hope so,” Sedorum sighed. He then said gravely, “The most important thing for us to do now is to return to Veii at once, rally our kinsmen, and strengthen our defenses. At the same time, we must send envoys to Cosenza¹ and ask for their help.”

“Ask Cosenza for help?!” Saru was astonished.

“These past few days, I have had time to think,” Sedorum said, his voice low and heavy. “If we Bruttii continue to fight amongst ourselves as we have in the past, we will always be oppressed by the Lucanians and the Greeks.”

“You’re right. We should unite with Cosenza, just like the Lucanian tribal alliance,” Saru agreed. Being younger, his hatred for the other Bruttii tribes was not as deeply ingrained.

Sedorum said nothing, lost in his own thoughts.

Just then, Saru spoke again, his voice alight with excitement. “Paramount Chieftain, since we have already made an enemy of the Lucanians, shouldn’t we take the opportunity to raid the lands of Laos as we pass through?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Sedorum exploded, finally losing his patience. “Do you have no regard for the lives of our kinsmen? Do you even deserve to be a chieftain? Is Avenogis of Laos a man to be trifled with? We will be lucky to pass through the lower Lao River valley without arousing their suspicion, and you’re thinking of plunder?!” The furious tirade finally made the overexcited young chieftain hang his head in shame.

As they marched on, Sedorum couldn’t help but mutter, “I never imagined that Thurii, after suffering such a massive defeat, could still manage to ambush the allied Lucanian army. Could they have received more reinforcements from Tarentum or Croton?”

He didn’t answer his own question. Instead, he looked back at the sky, thick with rolling black smoke, and a thrill of excitement coursed through him. If the Lucanian alliance truly suffered a catastrophic loss in that Greek ambush, the balance of power in this entire region is about to change dramatically. And what role will the men of Veii play in it?

***

Cincinnag led the tattered remnants of his tribe in a retreat to the east. Consumed by grief and fury, he had only one thought in his mind: find Akperu, and then lead the grand army to slaughter every last person in Veii to avenge his fallen kinsmen.

Along the way, they met the routed soldiers of Akperu’s own force.

Akperu had been desperately hoping to return to the camp, bring up reinforcements, and salvage the battle. When he heard the devastating news from Cincinnag—that the men of Veii had mutinied, that the Pyxous had been massacred, and that the entire camp had been burned to ashes—the shock and rage were too much for him. He collapsed on the spot.

And when Cincinnag learned the terrible truth—that over nine thousand of their warriors had been caught in a Greek ambush, their fate still unknown—he stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

***

Early that morning, the generals in the city hall of Thurii had received a report from the sentries on the walls: a large force was suspected to be on the move outside the city.

After the morning fog had lifted, scouts were sent out. The report that came back was baffling: there was nothing unusual in the areas surrounding Thurii, but the mercenary camp was almost completely empty.

The generals were aghast. Just last night, Burkos had returned to say the mercenaries had agreed to stay. The city had worked through the night to prepare the supplies these greedy soldiers had demanded. Could it be that these untrustworthy mercenaries had fled in the middle of the night?

The generals cursed the mercenaries. Someone even proposed sending warships to hunt them down and force them to return.

Just then, the scouts who had ridden west returned.

“What?! The mercenaries have joined with the Tarentum reinforcements and have gone to attack the Lucanian army?!” Kunogelata couldn’t believe his ears.

The city hall erupted in chaos.

Neanthis bellowed, “Davos is a madman, trying to destroy Thurii’s last hope!”

“He’s right! Without the protection of the mercenaries, Thurii will have to face the Lucanian assault alone! What are we to do?” Polyxexis worried aloud.

Kunogelata made a swift decision. “Send Burkos at once! Tell him to persuade the mercenaries to return, at any cost! Thurii will not permit them to act so recklessly!”

***

However, Burkos returned empty-handed. Davos, who had always been courteous to him, had harshly rejected his request. When Burkos had continued to plead, he’d had him escorted from the area and told him to return to the city and await news of their victory.

“It seems to me that Davos is very confident about defeating the Lucanians. Perhaps we should trust him?” Burkos said, trying to console the other generals, though in truth, he was highly doubtful himself.

His words were met with a storm of angry recriminations.

Kunogelata criticized him for his poor judgment of character.

Polyxexis, out of friendship, did not attack him directly, but instead lamented that mercenaries were treacherous wolves who could not be tamed.

Neanthis furiously accused him of wasting the city’s treasury on a band of mercenaries who had proven to be completely useless, and threatened to propose a motion in the assembly to have him put on trial.

The generals of Thurii spent the entire morning in a state of complaint, recrimination, and mounting anxiety, yet none of them had the courage to send the city’s remaining two thousand citizen-soldiers out to help.

In the afternoon, the sentries on the walls once again heard the rumbling of marching feet. The scouts sent out saw the returning mercenary army. Though their armor was tattered and they were covered in blood and filth, many of them supporting wounded comrades, they showed none of the dejection of a defeated army. On the contrary, their spirits were high, and they laughed and talked loudly as they marched. In their column were a dozen carts piled high with armor and weapons. Behind them, hundreds of slaves, each carrying several sets of armor and hauling shields, spears, and helmets, marched with their heads held high, their faces filled with pride. And at the very rear of the column, several hundred naked men were herded along by soldiers, shuffling obediently toward the mercenary camp. One look at their tangled, long hair was enough to know they were not Greeks.

The scouts’ hearts pounded in their chests as they pondered an almost impossible possibility.

Just then, a mercenary cavalryman broke from the column and galloped toward them. He held his hands high to show he was unarmed, so as not to spook the Thurians.

The Thurian scouts held their ground. The mercenary rider reined in his horse before them, lifted his chin, and declared with unconcealed pride, “Our General Davos bids you inform the generals of Thurii that the mercenary army and the Tarentum reinforcements have annihilated the main force of the allied Lucanian army at the Great Riverbed! We have driven them from the territory of Thurii!”

“You… you really defeated the Lucanians?!” one of the scouts asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“Of course it’s true! Do we have any reason to lie?” the mercenary rider said proudly, gesturing toward the prisoners in his column. “And one more thing. Our commander wishes to remind you Thurians that the Great Riverbed is currently covered in corpses. He hopes you will deal with them quickly. Otherwise, if they are left for too long, they will likely cause a plague.”⁵

The scouts hadn’t even reached the city gates before they began waving their arms and screaming at the top of their lungs, “Victory! We are victorious! The Lucanians have been annihilated!”

Back in the city hall, the generals’ energy had been completely sapped by the long, agonizing hours of anxiety.

Just then, the sound of cheering from outside the building, faint at first, then growing louder and louder, startled the drowsy generals from their stupor.