Chapter 8

Davos knew that if he wanted to change their minds, he had to show them the facts. He called Giorgis over, and together they went to the supply camp to fetch a cow’s stomach. They took it to a small stream by the camp and painstakingly washed it clean. Then, they boiled a pot of water and blanched the tripe before Davos drew his knife and began to slice it.

By this time, the five soldiers from the other tent, now half-convinced by Olivas’s stories, had joined a crowd of other curious soldiers, forming several rings around Davos.

Unhurried, Davos ladled several spoonfuls of broth from another pot where beef and mutton were simmering and poured it into a fresh pot. Once the broth was boiling, he added the sliced tripe. A short while later, he lifted the pot from the fire, sprinkled in some salt, and a simple pot of quick-boiled tripe¹ was ready.

“Here, try some.”

Matonis hesitantly speared a piece with his knife, blew on it vigorously, and slowly put it in his mouth.

He didn’t answer the questions from the onlookers. Instead, his face impassive, he speared another piece… and then another… and then another. It was only then that the crowd realized what was happening. Just as they were about to surge forward, Matonis ignored the searing heat, grabbed the entire pot, and ran. The men chased after him, cursing all the way.

Davos found it rather funny; he hadn’t realized the big lug was so clever.

“It seems the animal offal is not only edible but delicious,” Hylos, who hadn’t joined the chase, remarked with a sigh.

Davos said nothing. Not all offal was as palatable as tripe—liver, for example—but it was very beneficial for the body. In an age without industrial pollution, there should be no danger of poisoning from eating it.

“But the meat we were given is already enough for one day. In this heat, the rest of these innards will be spoiled by tomorrow,” Hylos said with a helpless air.

Davos had already thought of a solution for this problem. He pointed to the sheep intestines that had been tossed aside. “We can make sausages.”

“Sausages?”

***

When the men returned, they looked at Davos with a certain reverence. Having tasted the delicious tripe, they were now convinced that Olivas was right. If he wasn’t “blessed by the gods,” how else could it be that out of more than ten thousand Greeks, only Davos thought this filthy stuff was edible and knew how to make it taste so good? Before, Davos had been just like them, throwing the offal as far away as possible. Such a dramatic change had to be a boon from Hades.

As a result, it became much easier for Davos to direct them. They were able to endure the stench of the sheep intestines and take them to the stream to wash them clean. Then, they minced the offal along with some leftover meat and stuffed it into the casings. After stuffing a small section, they tied it off with thread pulled from a linen cloth. Stuff a little more, tie it off again…

When they were finished, they hung the links on a wooden rack over a fire to be smoked continuously. Davos had learned this method of making sausage during his time as a village official in his past life. With limited conditions and time, he could only simplify the process. As long as it could be preserved for a few more days and was edible, that was enough.

Their large-scale sausage-making operation naturally attracted a crowd of curious onlookers. After some boasting from Olivas, Matonis, and the others, Davos became something of a curiosity himself, with soldiers constantly staring at him. Soon, two stories—”Davos the Hades’ Favored One” and “sausages”—began to spread throughout Menon’s camp.

***

Around noon, news arrived: the Persian King had sent an envoy to demand their surrender, but the generals had refused.

In the afternoon, more news came. The messenger sent to Ariaeus had returned with his answer: he refused to march against the Persian King’s army. He only wanted to return to his homeland in Asia Minor and was willing to make the journey back with the Greek mercenaries.

Davos had been right again, but by now, no one was surprised.

Soon after, another piece of news spread: Clearchus was going to sacrifice an animal to Zeus to have the chief of the gods decide whether they should fight or retreat.

Davos found it laughable. This was clearly a tactic by the mercenary generals to shift responsibility for a difficult decision. But his comrades awaited the results of the divination with extreme solemnity, making Davos realize that judging the actions of ancient people by modern standards was somewhat unreasonable.

Evidently, the results of the divination the generals received were not good. Finally, the order came down from the top: the mercenary army would rendezvous with Ariaeus’s forces and retreat together to Asia Minor.

The soldiers in every camp were to immediately begin packing their belongings and loading the baggage onto the pack animals. After dark, when the bronze horn sounded, the contingents could begin to depart in sequence.

At once, a tense atmosphere filled the camp, but on every face, there was also a hint of relief. After all, it had been eight or nine months since they had set out from Asia Minor. They could finally go home, and no one wanted to linger long in a hostile land.

“Can we take the sausages down now?” Hylos asked.

Davos looked up at the dozens of sausage links being smoked. He shook his head. “Let’s wait until dark and take them down right before we leave.” He knew that half a day was far from enough time to properly smoke sausages, but the longer they were smoked, the longer they would last.

The men began to dismantle their tents and pack their luggage with practiced skill. Although Davos had memories of doing this, he still needed to convert that memory into habit. He watched and learned attentively.

When they carried their tents and luggage to the supply camp, Davos saw the stout man shouting loudly, directing his men as they loaded supplies. Despite the number of soldiers who had come to the baggage train, he was maintaining order and working methodically.

“Who is that?” Davos asked, pointing at him.

“Mersis, Menon’s quartermaster. That fat pig is a real bastard. Last time I came here looking for a woman, he charged me two silver coins!” Olivas said resentfully.

Davos looked thoughtfully at the loudly braying pack animals. “Have we ever marched at night before?” he asked.

“Rarely,” Hylos replied. “Without moonlight, you can’t see a thing. Even with it, walking at night is difficult. And those big animals are even more trouble. They might seem docile now, but at night they get spooked easily. There have been a few times they’ve trampled people. That’s why the baggage train usually marches separately from us.”

Davos thought for a moment, then handed his luggage to Hylos and stepped out of the line.

“Hey! Get back here! Mersis is not someone to mess with!” Olivas called out.

Fearing Davos would get into trouble, Matonis hurried after him.

“Halt!” A guard pointed a spear at Davos. “It’s not your turn yet! Get in line!”

Davos gestured to show he was empty-handed. “I have business with Mersis,” he said.

The guard instinctively glanced back at Mersis, then shook his head. “If I were you, I wouldn’t bother that fat man while he’s busy.”

“Alright,” Davos said with a sly grin, then shouted loudly, “Mersis, I can solve your problem with the animals getting spooked at night!”

His shout drew the attention of all the nearby soldiers.

“Isn’t that Davos? He can even solve that problem? He really is the ‘Hades’ Favored One’!”

“What ‘Hades’ Favored One’?”

“You don’t know? Davos is blessed by the gods. Olivas told me…”

Listening to the soldiers’ chatter, Davos knew his objective was half-achieved.

“You can solve the problem with the livestock?!” Mersis walked over, eyeing Davos suspiciously.

“Of course, he can! He’s Davos!” Matonis had practically become his biggest supporter.

“You’re Davos?! The Davos who made the sausages?!” Mersis’s expression changed, his face lighting up with a look of pleasant surprise.

Davos nodded.

“Quick, come over here and see if there’s anything wrong with the sausages I’m making,” Mersis said, grabbing Davos’s arm and pulling him into the supply area.

After Davos had looked at the sausages and pointed out some shortcomings, Mersis complained, “You should have told me about the sausage recipe first, not those soldiers who only know how to fight and kill! All they do is waste things! It’s a shame, by the time I heard about it, the meat and innards were almost all gone. Good thing I acted fast!” Mersis paused, suddenly remembering why Davos had come. “Oh! I almost forgot. You said you could solve the problem of the pack animals getting spooked at night?”

“It’s simple. Blindfold them,” Davos said seriously. “Oxen and horses are naturally gentle but timid creatures. When they can’t see, they won’t dare to take a single step and will just blindly follow the directions of the person leading them.” This was something he had learned from an old farmer in his village in his past life.

“Oh! So that’s how it works! I’ll go try it right now!” Mersis turned and ran, then suddenly stopped. “Davos, I hope you’ll come by here often! If you want to have fun with a woman, I won’t charge you any money!”

Davos smiled. He’s quite an earnest fat man.