“Lord Satrap, are we truly letting the Greeks go just like that?” an aide asked, his voice full of reluctance.

“Let them go?!” Tissaphernes shot him a fierce glare. “This is the Great King’s command. I have followed his decree and successfully driven the Greek barbarians into the territory of the Doukias. Do you think their road ahead will be an easy one?”

Tissaphernes pointed a finger at the vast mountain ranges before them. “The steep and narrow mountain paths, the forests teeming with snakes and insects, and the savage Doukias mountain folk will devour their courage!” he said venomously. “Even if they manage to cross the Doukias lands, Orontes’s great army will be waiting for them. And even if Orontes cannot stop them, they will still have to face the Chalybians, the Taochi, the Macrones… Let these barbarians fight amongst themselves! Let’s see how many of these Greek savages actually make it back to Greece!”

He gave a cold laugh and continued, “We need not waste any more time and energy here. There are important matters to attend to in Asia Minor. Withdraw the army! We are heading back!” he commanded sharply. He wheeled his horse around and happened to catch sight of Ariaeus’s emotionless face in the distance. He paused for a moment, then instinctively glanced back at the rolling mountains one last time.

Capturing the leaders of the Greek mercenaries would have been a great achievement. But when everything was going so smoothly, I got new ideas. The result was the deaths of Mithridates and Artaozus and over ten thousand casualties, which has greatly diminished my accomplishments. Now, I can only hope the Greeks are annihilated in these mountains as I predicted, to soothe the hatred in my heart.

But will it really happen as I wish?

***

The next day, the mercenary army arrived at the edge of the Doukias mountain range and made camp. Their next move depended entirely on the success of Marigi’s mission to the Doukias tribe.

Davos and the other leaders escorted Marigi to the mountain pass. He was accompanied by Hylos and a squad of several dozen soldiers, who were leading a few pack carts loaded with the armor, shields, and spears the mercenaries had stripped from the dead Persian soldiers such as weapons and equipment that the mountain people sorely lacked. Also with them were a dozen Doukias, mostly the slaves that Davos had ordered Mersis to capture from the Persian villages.

“Marigi, it’s all up to you now,” Davos said, giving him a strong embrace. He then leaned in and whispered, “If things go sour, get out of there as fast as you can. Hylos will help you escape. It doesn’t matter if the negotiations fail; we can still force our way through. Your safety is what’s most important.”

Marigi was taken aback. He glanced at the other leaders standing behind Davos, then said loudly, “Rest assured! With these weapons and these Doukias people, our negotiations are already halfway to success! I have traded with the chief of this tribe, Komoros, many times in the past, so I know him quite well. He has always been ambitious, looking for ways to strengthen his tribe and gain sole control of the mountain trade route that connects Armenia, Doukias territory, and Media. To that end, he has fought with all the surrounding tribes. I am confident our proposal will interest him greatly!”

“I hope so,” Timasion said, stepping forward. “You had better hurry up,” he urged brusquely. “Don’t forget, we can only wait here for you for one day!”

Marigi shot him a look but said nothing more.

Davos ignored Timasion and instead stepped forward to give Hylos an even stronger embrace. Hylos had insisted on going, and Davos, after failing to dissuade him, knew it was the right choice. Only with his most capable and trusted subordinate accompanying the mission would Marigi be fully convinced that Davos would not abandon them, no matter what happened.

Keeping his gratitude in his heart, Davos said simply to Hylos, “Come back safe, my brother.”

Hylos took a step back and gave a solemn military salute.

Davos watched them walk into the forest until the dense trees had completely swallowed their figures.

“It feels strange, doesn’t it?” Cleanor remarked, his tone odd. “We were driven here by the Persians, and now we must rely on a Persian to get us out of this dangerous predicament.”

“Don’t overthink it, Cleanor. Right now, we are all hoping that this Persian succeeds, are we not?” Xanthipparis said calmly.

“Perhaps this is all the will of the gods. They take pleasure in these curious twists of fate,” Xenophon said, his eyes full of hope. “For now, all we can do is wait patiently.”

“Wait, and prepare for battle,” Chrysophus reminded them. With that, he turned and walked back to the camp.

***

For that entire day, the mercenary leaders forbade any soldier from leaving the camp. They wanted to prevent any of the loot-happy, idle mercenaries from clashing with the Doukias mountain people and jeopardizing their plan. At the same time, the entire army was put on high alert, ready to defend against an attack from either the Doukias or the Persians.

But the day passed without incident. Occasionally, a few Doukias tribesmen, clad in short animal-skin coats with red patterns painted on their faces, carrying short axes and bows, were seen prowling around the camp. The Greek soldiers watched them, pointing and commenting among themselves.

In contrast to the soldiers’ casual mood, the leaders were tense, worried about whether the Doukias would accept their plan. Davos, in particular, barely slept a wink that night.

It was not until early the next morning that Axistes burst into his tent and shook him awake. “Marigi is back!”

Davos shot up, all sleepiness gone in an instant.

“Commander, the Doukias chief, Komoros, has accepted my proposal! He is willing to form an alliance with us!” Marigi’s excited voice came from behind Axistes.

“Excellent!” Davos leaped to his feet, gripped Marigi’s shoulders, and said joyfully, “You have saved the entire mercenary army! Every Greek soldier will thank you for this!”

A smile touched Marigi’s lips, but it was quickly replaced by a troubled expression. “Hylos and the others couldn’t come back. Komoros insisted on hosting them as honored guests.”

Davos froze. He detected the odd note in Marigi’s voice. “Hostages?” he asked, his face darkening.

Marigi quickly explained, “Yes, as a security measure. Komoros wishes to negotiate the terms of the alliance with you leaders in person!”

Davos’s expression softened slightly. “When? Where?” he asked urgently.

“Originally, he wanted you to go to his village to negotiate, but I refused. I argued my case, and he even threatened me with a knife several times. After a long and heated debate, we finally agreed on a location at the foot of that mountain ahead, this afternoon,” Marigi said, emphasizing the difficulty of his negotiations.

“This afternoon… at the foot of the mountain ahead…” Davos mused, then his brow cleared. “It seems this Komoros is very eager to form an alliance.”

“Yes, Leader!” Marigi said, a look of pride on his face.

“Then what are we waiting for? Come with me to find Chrysophus and the others!” With that, Davos strode out of the tent.

***

That afternoon, Chrysophus, Cleanor, and Davos, led by Marigi, went to the foot of the mountain with an escort of fifty Spartan warriors. To avoid a repeat of the disaster that befell Clearchus and the other leaders, the rest of the mercenary generals remained with the army, which was in formation at the mountain pass, a mile away.

“It’s right there,” Marigi said, pointing. In a grassy clearing not far away stood a large tree stump, wider than a Greek shield, its top polished smooth. It was about half a man high, with several smaller logs placed around it as seats. A winding path led from the stump up into the depths of the mountain.

“This Doukias chief is quite thoughtful,” Davos remarked. As the one who had proposed this plan, he had to show confidence in it. He was the first to walk over, brush the dust and leaves from one of the logs, and sit down.

Chrysophus calmly sat down as well.

Cleanor looked around nervously before slowly taking a seat.

Marigi stood directly beside Davos.

It was now late autumn. The climate along the Tigris had been warm, but here in the Doukias mountains, the weather had turned cool. The grass was beginning to turn yellow, and the mountain wind sent a constant shower of leaves from the trees, carpeting the ground in a thick layer.

Chrysophus looked up at the increasingly bare branches. “We must pass through this mountain range as quickly as possible,” he said with concern. “Otherwise, when winter comes, it will be even colder in the mountains, and our soldiers have no heavy clothing to keep them warm.”

His words were a reminder to Davos, who, in truth, had not even considered that problem.

Just as the three leaders began to discuss how to deal with the coming winter, the Doukias arrived: several dozen fierce-looking men, and one strangely dressed old man.