“Bourkos, it’s been a while! I thought you’d forgotten an old friend!” Davos said with a smile as he walked up.
“How could I forget? It’s just that once I got back, there was so much backlog I had to deal with right away—I couldn’t find the time,” Bourkos explained.
“Oh, so you’re finally done with all that?” Davos teased.
“Not done,” Bourkos said seriously. “But the Thurii City Hall has an important order for me to pass on to you.”
“Is that so? What’s this important order? Finally, the fine gentlemen of Thurii remember we mercenaries exist,” Davos said sarcastically.
“Are you saying it here?” Bourkos glanced around.
“Sorry, my mistake. Let’s go to my tent.” Davos apologized and led them toward the center of the camp.
“Is that ‘tug-of-war’ game something you learned from Persia?” Bourkos asked.
“I came up with it myself. Mainly, I was worried that if the soldiers stayed in camp too long with nothing to do, something might go wrong. So I had them hold athletic contests—it burns off their energy, keeps them fit, and builds teamwork. In fact, there’s a prize for the champion at the end. I put up a fair bit of my own money.”
“You manage these mercenaries well!” Bourkos praised, then shifted the conversation. “But you won’t need to worry for long. Soon you’ll have something to do.”
Davos wasn’t surprised. “The Lucanians are right on our doorstep. If Thurii doesn’t act soon, I’d think you were ready to hand over the land outside the city walls to them.”
Hearing the resentment in Davos’s words, Bourkos was trying to figure out how to respond when he caught sight of a four-meter-high stone wall inside the wooden palisade to the right. Startled, he said, “Are you actually building another stone wall?”
Davos blinked. “That section of wooden wall is on damp ground, so it’s not sturdy enough. We built a stone wall inside using waste stone to keep it from being breached.”
“You and your men are really something—you’ve turned your camp into a city!” Bourkos criticized obliquely.
“We had no choice. With so few men, if we didn’t fortify the camp, who would come to our rescue if we were besieged? Thurii’s own defense and the mercenaries could bail them out, but if we get surrounded, who saves us? In the end, we can only rely on ourselves,” Davos said straightforwardly.
“And that market outside—is that part of the camp’s defense too?” Bourkos countered.
“Initially, I just wanted to trade a few things to meet daily needs. I never expected it to turn into this… But don’t worry, once we push back the Lucanians, everything will return to normal.” Davos gave his assurance.
Bourkos was just trying to gain a little psychological advantage for the coming discussion—after all, only the City Hall and the Council had the authority to decide whether to force the mercenaries to close the market—so he didn’t press further. He decided to report back to Feris instead. Once inside Davos’s tent, he got straight to the point: “According to our scouting reports, the Lucanians might attack Thurii within two days. The generals have deliberated and decided to meet the enemy in battle. They’re ordering your troops to take part.”
“Go ahead, tell me what the plan is from the honorable generals of Thurii,” Davos said with a sneer. In truth, he felt helpless. It was a strange thing that as a participant in a major battle, he didn’t even have the right to join the pre-battle discussions. He wondered if it had been the same when the Greek mercenaries served under Cyrus the Younger—but back then, the mercenaries made up half the army and were a formidable force. Cyrus relied heavily on them and had deceived them about his rebellion beforehand, so when he demanded too much, he would negotiate with Clearchus and the others… By the time Davos had crossed over, Cyrus was already dead, and the mercenaries did everything on their own, discussing matters among themselves. Now, Davos was reliving that awful feeling of having everything decided for him by others, with no control over his fate.
Bourkos was equally helpless. In fact, Feris had suggested letting the mercenary leaders take part in planning the battle, but Kynogoratas and the others firmly refused, saying they had to prevent something like the Dionysius incident from happening—Dionysius was the current tyrant of Syracuse, who had been overthrown by a democratic faction leading the people. He later smuggled mercenaries into the city, brutally suppressed the democrats, and secured his position as Syracuse’s dictator. Hiring mercenaries had been Feris’s idea, approved by the generals’ discussion and the Council, and Bourkos was sent to recruit on Feris’s recommendation. So Bourkos had to keep his distance to avoid suspicion.
“According to the scouts, the Lucanian coalition numbers over ten thousand. On our side, you have over two thousand men, Drakos and his group also have over two thousand, the Tarentum reinforcements number fifteen hundred, Thurii can field four thousand, and we have two hundred cavalry. Our total is close to ten thousand…”
Bourkos finished laying out the troop strengths and picked up a twig to draw on the ground. “The generals’ plan is to line up with the Tarentum reinforcements on the right wing. Since they have the fewest men, Adrianx and Sestas will add their thousand men to that flank. The center will be our Thurii troops. After the last defeat, Thurii’s able-bodied young citizens have been greatly reduced, so more than half of these four thousand are citizens over forty years old. Drakos’s thousand will be added to the center. And… since your troops have the most battle experience and are the strongest, your force will be responsible for the left wing, along with a hundred cavalry. The other hundred Tarentine cavalry will go to the right wing. Of course, this is just the plan. On the actual battlefield, things may change depending on the enemy’s disposition…” Bourkos finished and watched Davos’s expression.
Davos cupped his chin and stared at the drawing on the ground, lost in thought. He remained silent for a long time.
Bourkos started to feel nervous.
“Would you like to hear my opinion?” Davos looked up and pointed at the sketch on the ground, speaking calmly. “The troop arrangement Thurii has given is fairly balanced. It seems the generals intend to wear down the enemy’s attack through sustained defense and our resilience.”
Bourkos nodded: When Feris had explained to him why they were setting up the formation that way, he’d said something similar. Davos truly lived up to his reputation—just by looking at a sketch, he could infer the generals’ intentions.
“I’ve never fought the Lucanians, but I did battle many mountain tribes in Persia. Their combat characteristics shouldn’t be too different—fierce, loosely organized, and poorly equipped. Maybe that’s why your generals dare to face a larger enemy with this formation. But there are a few issues you should bring to their attention—” Davos shifted his tone, raising his voice. “Last year, in the pitched battle against the Lucanians, Thurii lost over ten thousand men. That means nearly ten thousand sets of high-quality Greek heavy infantry equipment fell into Lucanian hands. They could easily use those to upgrade their own crude gear. I saw exactly that when I scouted at Amendolara. Second, according to my scouts, the Lucanian coalition numbers at least thirteen thousand—three thousand more than us. That means their formation will be thicker and longer than ours. They will have greater impact and shoving power, and the threat of outflanking us will be bigger. Moreover, they just won a major victory, so their morale against us will be high. On the other hand, I’ve observed that your Thurii citizens feel real fear toward the Lucanians at heart. So in a prolonged battle, it’s hard to say who will break first.” Davos tapped the spot on the ground representing the Thurii center with his twig. “And don’t forget, half of those are ‘old men.’”
Bourkos’s confidence—the idea that Greek heavy infantry could stand firm against barbarians in a frontal fight—began to waver from Davos’s words.
“Would you like to hear my plan?” Davos said then.
Battle Plan