Choice

The Lucanians had withdrawn.

Amid the soldiers' cheers, Philistos came to the commander's tent to see Davos. But he found Davos utterly absorbed, drawing something on the ground with a wooden stick—sometimes raising his head in thought, sometimes pacing back and forth anxiously, completely oblivious to the outside world.

Philistos called out a few times, but getting no reaction or movement, he simply stood aside and watched. He craned his neck, trying to see what Davos was drawing. The pattern on the ground was crude and messy, barely recognizable as a map of the area around Thurii: the Crati River and its branch, the Coseni River. The square at the junction of the two rivers probably represented the city of Thurii… And what did that thin line refer to? It connected to the Coseni River—could it be the Tino River? And what about the dots and circles beside the Tino River?…

Just as he was racking his brain, he heard Davos shout something in a strange, unfamiliar language. He quickly looked up and saw Davos’s face flushed with intense excitement.

Had he just been communicating with Hades? Philistos recalled some rumors, and his mind stirred.

“Philistos, you’ve come just in time. Immediately notify all company commanders and platoon leaders to come to me for a meeting!” Davos suddenly spoke, his tone so firm and unquestioning that it startled Philistos.

After Philistos left, Davos took another long look at the pattern on the ground, then repeated the earlier words heavily in a resolute voice: “Victory or defeat rests on this one battle! I’ll gamble on it!!”

He stretched out his foot and forcefully erased the pattern on the ground. Then he sat down resolutely on the wooden chair in the center of the tent, waiting for his tense, excited mood to settle as he also waited for his officers to arrive.

…

When building this camp, Davos had considered the needs of operations and expanded the commander’s tent. Even so, with dozens of officers standing inside, the space was still very cramped. But no one minded. The battle was lost—where would the mercenaries go from here? Earlier, because they had to fight, there was no time to think about it. Now every officer was uneasy, and their eyes were fixed on Davos, hoping that the leader who had led them out of trouble time and again and continually worked miracles would show them the way.

“Brothers,” Davos began. “We have lost the battle. The Lucanians have withdrawn, but they will come again tomorrow. The Lucanians have long wanted to occupy this fertile Sybaris Plain. To that end, they launched two campaigns against Thurii, paid a huge price to defeat the Thurians, and finally crippled Thurii, forcing them to hole up inside the city. They will never give up this fat piece of the Sybaris Plain! So, what should we do?”

Davos looked around at everyone with a grave expression, but he did not want them to start arguing now, because time was short. He continued, “Although I never said it publicly, I’m afraid you already know, because you have been working toward it. That’s right—Amendolara is my target! It is the place I have chosen for our mercenaries to settle in Magna Graecia! It is our future homeland!!”

Most officers remained calm, only a few showed surprise.

“But if the Lucanians occupy the Sybaris Plain, even if we capture Amendolara, we will become their primary target! Because we are too few in number, the weakest, and we have already made enemies of them! Even if we repel them again today, as long as they are here, they will always be a huge threat to us! So, what should we do?” Davos asked a second time.

“Isn’t that obvious? We have to defeat them!” someone shouted in the silence. It was Matonis’s voice.

“That’s right! The Lucanians are far less formidable than the Thurians made them out to be. As long as we can split them up, we can defeat them!” Amyntas also said loudly.

These two brave officers would charge fearlessly even against ten times their number.

But Capus, Alexis, Philistos, and others clearly did not agree with their idea and were about to refute.

Davos laughed heartily. “Well said! We must attack the Lucanian tribal coalition—but not to strike at their scattered forces, but to annihilate them in one blow! Only then can we settle down in Amendolara with peace of mind, deter Thurii and other forces from interfering, and freely sow wheat and graze cattle on the land of Amendolara!”

Annihilate the Lucanian coalition?! Everyone was stunned.

“Chief, we only have two thousand men. Even if we tried to surround them, we couldn’t manage it. How can we annihilate a Lucanian coalition of over ten thousand?” Philistos’s words voiced the question on every officer’s mind.

“It won’t be just us. There will also be reinforcements from Tarentum and Drakos’s mercenaries.”

“Even with them, we’d only have about six thousand. The Lucanian coalition numbers fifteen or sixteen thousand—more than twice our strength!” Capus shook his head.

“Are the Tarentum reinforcements and those mercenaries willing to attack the Lucanians?” Antonios asked a key question.

“They don’t know yet, but I am confident I can convince them soon!” Davos looked at the men confidently. Seeing that they were still full of doubt, he raised his voice and said, “Brothers, do you remember what I once said? The outcome of war is not determined by numbers. It depends on the quality of the soldiers, the level of morale, the quality of weapons… Most importantly, it depends on formulating a feasible, careful plan that lets us lead the enemy by the nose, suppresses their strengths, and brings out our own, so that we can achieve final victory!”

The men seemed thoughtful.

Amyntas could not wait any longer. “Chief Davos, tell us your plan quickly!”

“Asiastes, bring the map of Thurii,” Davos called.

Asiastes excitedly fetched the map that had been painstakingly surveyed and carefully drawn on parchment a few days earlier.

Davos spread the map on the wooden table, and the men immediately gathered around.

“Everyone, look… Here is the Lucanian camp, here is the Tino River…” Davos pointed at the points and lines on the map, slowly and in detail explaining the attack plan he had been brewing.

The men listened attentively while thinking.

When Davos finished, the tent was silent.

Then, in twos and threes, they began to discuss quietly.

Davos waited for a while, then said, “Brothers, is this plan feasible?”

“Chief,” Alexis said with genuine admiration, “I have never seen such a brilliant idea. It’s a stroke of genius!”

“Alexis is right. Executing this plan will not only prevent the enemy from leveraging their numerical advantage, but will also allow us to bring our offensive power to bear relatively easily!”

“Our chief truly is our chief, a great commander, the God-Touched One of Hades!”

For a moment, flattery poured in like a tide.

Davos said solemnly, “Now is not the time for fine words. This is a critical moment that concerns our very survival! Speak your views. We need to pool everyone’s wisdom to overcome difficulties and achieve victory!”

The men exchanged glances. Alexis cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. He spoke first: “Chief, according to your plan, the first thing we need to solve is how to lure the enemy…”

After a heated discussion, the battle plan was roughly finalized, and the atmosphere in the tent became lively.

Davos said loudly, “Brothers, the great battle is about to begin! Go back and tell the soldiers. Tell them the truth we have been hiding! This battle is not for Thurii, nor for us officers, but for themselves—for the land we all dream of!! Hades will protect us!!!”

“HOO!!!” Davos’s stirring words ignited everyone’s passion. Even someone as mild-tempered as Philistos now had flames of hope burning in his eyes…