Menon

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, the army was hurried onto the road.

Menon said goodbye to Ariaeus and rushed back to lead his own unit. As he rode toward the tail of this long dragon-like column of Greek mercenaries, he inwardly cursed Clearchus and the others. He believed that having his troops serve as the rearguard was a form of persecution by these mercenary leaders who resented his close relationship with the Persians.

At the same time, he noticed the soldiers marching with weary faces and constant complaints. The previous night, because of the march, they had too little rest and had to guard against a Persian sneak attack, so most had just slept on the ground. Now, early in the morning, they had to march again, and the soldiers quickly became tired and hungry. But the baggage camps could not provide more food, lowering the soldiers' morale.

Menon thought: If the food situation in other camps was this bad, how much worse must it be for his own subordinates, who had been mistreated during his two-day absence! Fearing his soldiers might cause trouble, he spurred his horse on until he saw many familiar faces, then slowed down.

To his surprise, contrary to his expectations, these soldiers were in fairly good spirits, and many were chewing on a string of dark objects hanging from their chests as they walked. Curious, he called over a file leader to ask.

"This is called smoked sausage. It fills the stomach and won't spoil for several days," the file leader said, pointing at the object on his chest.

Menon cut off a small piece and tasted it. Though a bit dry, the flavor was acceptable. Seeing that soldiers from other camps were hungry while his own could eat, his mood lifted. "Did Mesis make this… smoked sausage?"

"No, it was Davos — a 'God-Touched One'!"

"God-Touched One?" Menon asked curiously for details. After hearing the file leader's account, his expression turned grim, and he immediately noticed that some soldiers were indeed carrying two extra javelins.

"Where is this Davos?"

"His company was sent to guard the baggage camp," the file leader replied, clearly oblivious to Menon's mood, and even asked with slight excitement, "Do you want to see him?"

The file leader's expression made Menon change his mind. Just a country boy from a small Thessalian village — was it worth making a fuss over? Hurrying to see a soldier was beneath his dignity, and besides, they were on the march. There would be plenty of time later to summon Davos to him.

...

From dawn to late morning, then into the afternoon, the army kept marching without rest.

Davos felt his legs were weighed down with lead; every step was difficult. His throat was dry as fire, and his shield, spear, and javelins had become burdens. In the morning he could still joke with his comrades, but now opening his mouth felt like wasting his meager energy. Yet he gritted his teeth and persisted, because the comrades around him were also marching in silence.

Finally, the column halted. News from the front, which had just given them a moment of relief, made them tense up again: Persian cavalry had been spotted!

Soon, another message arrived: It wasn't cavalry, just Persian pack animals grazing.

The column continued marching.

As dusk fell, after marching a short while longer, Davos saw dense columns of smoke rising in the distance.

Heilos told him, "That must be the Persian camp."

But the column kept advancing, showing no signs of caution or evasion.

It was late, with no moonlight. The soldiers relied on torches to march, making progress even harder.

At last, an order came from the front: Halt and make camp here.

The ground was flat and barren of trees, and in the darkness it was impossible to organize construction of a camp. Moreover, with a Persian army nearby, they feared an attack. Soldiers shouted out for their friends, gathering in groups to improvise shelter. The equally exhausted file leaders could not maintain order, and the entire rearguard was a chaotic cacophony, like a boiling pot, producing tremendous noise. Many pack animals in the baggage train were startled, bolting in panic and injuring many people. The screams made the troops even more unsettled, teetering on the brink of collapse.

In this critical moment, Clearchus dispatched the only cavalry squad among the Greek mercenaries. Each rider carried a torch and galloped to the rearguard, loudly announcing Clearchus's orders, demanding the soldiers keep quiet, and commanding the baggage train to mind their animals, with punishment for anyone who let a pack animal loose. After a few soldiers who had been causing trouble out of fear were seized, the troops gradually quieted down.

Menon then found the cavalry leader — the man known as the "best herald," Tolmides.

"How did Clearchus lead the march! It nearly caused a camp panic! I was away for just one day, and things got this bad! He's completely unfit to command the whole army!..." Menon seized the chance to disparage Clearchus.

Tolmides wisely said nothing.

"Where is he now?"

Tolmides hesitated slightly. "...In the vanguard."

Menon caught the hesitation and pressed, "Is he also sleeping without a camp like us?"

Tolmides had to tell the truth. "The vanguard is quartered in a village... Menon, these are special times—"

Menon cut him off with a sneer. "So this is the fair and just Clearchus?! He sleeps in a warm house while we sleep on the cold, damp ground!" Menon knew it was not the time to incite the soldiers further, but he could not help shouting.

Fortunately, the nearby soldiers were already exhausted from the earlier commotion and, after muttering a few curses, fell asleep on the ground.

"Menon! Menon!..." At that moment, someone called out.

It was Mesis! Menon quickly brought him over: "How is your situation? Any losses?" The baggage train was what he cared most about, because his valuables were there; without money, no soldiers.

"None!" Mesis's fat face wore a smug grin. "I circled the wagons into a big ring, tied the animals to the carts, and we slept inside. It was very safe!"

"And the animals didn't kick up a fuss?" Tolmides asked curiously, since most baggage trains he had seen earlier were chaotic.

"Davos told me to blindfold the animals, and they were perfectly docile!" Mesis said excitedly.

Davos again! Menon frowned.

"Menon, that youngster is very clever! Why don't you assign him to the baggage train? That would make things much easier for me," Mesis pleaded.

"We'll see," Menon said flatly. The baggage train was his foundation; Mesis was his relative, good with finances and management, and had no ambition, so Menon trusted him. Letting a stranger, especially a clever one, into the baggage train — what if he discovered Menon's secrets?

The next morning, a herald woke Menon and told him that the King's messenger had arrived, and the leaders were summoning him for a council.

Menon mounted his horse and rode toward the foremost mercenary camp. Within his view, there was no sign of the Persian camp. It turned out that the enormous noise from the mercenaries' camp the previous night had frightened the Persians, who had withdrawn their camp ten li overnight.

As he approached the council tent, Menon saw four fully equipped heavy infantry battalions drawn up in formation before the camp. Puzzled, he entered the tent and found Clearchus, Proxenus, Achilles, Socrates (not the philosopher from Athens), Sosis, and several other leaders already waiting, all in full armor.

Seeing Clearchus, Menon snorted and sneered, "Looks like you all had a good night's sleep, while my poor soldiers spent the night on damp ground!"

As a Spartan, Clearchus was straightforward and stubborn, and he had little patience for Menon, so he didn't want to engage.

Achilles chuckled. "Oh, since when did Menon start caring about his soldiers?!"

Proxenus quickly intervened to smooth things over: "Menon, I heard from Tolmides that your baggage train had no incidents last night. Impressive! Why not share your experience with us?"

"Not just the baggage train! Menon's men even made something called smoked sausage. While everyone else was going hungry, his men filled their bellies with that!" Socrates told the others. His unit had been positioned just ahead of Menon's in the marching column, so he knew the situation well.

"Menon, share some of those tricks from your camp with us," Sosis and several other leaders urged, making Menon a little smug. He couldn't help boasting, "Even if you put me in the most difficult circumstances, I can still find a way out. So being good at fighting alone doesn't make a good leader!"

"Enough... Let the Great King's messenger come in. Let's all hear what his majesty has to propose this time," Clearchus interrupted Menon's showing off.

The leaders braced themselves, and Menon reluctantly fell silent.