Volume 3: The First Crotone War Chapter 10 Bagul

Davos and Cheiristoya were assigned a residence that had originally belonged to Marcellis, the former magistrate of Amendolara, along with Marcellis’s two children: a six-year-old daughter, Cynthia, and a three-year-old son, Adoris.

When Cheiristoya learned of this in the afternoon, she immediately got a few slaves from Mesis and hurried over to Marcellis’s house. By the time Davos returned to their new home, it was mostly cleaned up. But he had no time to appreciate it—he barely managed to bite into some bread and meet the two children they were about to adopt. The children nervously hid behind Cheiristoya, peeking at him, and it was clear that the twenty-one-year-old Cheiristoya had already begun to win the trust of these two orphans.

Before he could even speak, Asiastes arrived and said, “Bacule has been brought.”

Davos quickly told Asiastes to take the man to the side room.

Bacule, who had been starved for a day, was led into the side room with his hands tied behind his back. He collapsed onto the ground without moving, his body weak and his spirit so crushed that he had no hope left for living.

Then he heard a deep voice: “So this is the son of Vespa, the Lucanian chief—the one they call a warrior, Bacule?”

Another voice replied, “Yes, Magistrate.”

“He looks like a dead dog.” At this mockery, Bacule remained still, not even blinking.

“And yet Andrea boasted to me that he was a warrior. Ha! He doesn’t even dare look at me.” The speaker continued to taunt.

This time, Bacule opened his eyes. What he saw was a man even younger than the one who had brought him in. He was startled, because he had clearly heard the man being addressed as magistrate.

“And... Andrea? How is she?” His hoarse, weak voice carried deep concern.

Davos stopped teasing him. Instead, he stepped forward and said seriously, “She’s fine. She’s been pleading with me to release you, saying she wants to be with you.”

Bacule closed his eyes. His face, stained with blood and grime, twisted in agony. He suddenly rolled over, his chest heaving violently...

After a long moment, he opened his eyes—there seemed to be tears in them—and looked up at Davos. “...Release us? You can let us go? You’ll give us freedom?”

“What do you think?” Davos sneered. “Think about everything you did in Amendolara. You slaughtered its citizens, violated its women, forced its people into hard labor, locked them in cramped spaces, gave them only a little food and water... In less than six months, Amendolara’s citizens dropped from fifteen hundred to five hundred. That’s the crime you and your tribe committed! Every man, woman, and child in Amendolara wants to eat your flesh and drink your blood! Do you think you can escape punishment?!”

Davos’s words swept through Bacule like a gale, extinguishing the faint flame in his eyes. He lay stiff as a puppet, despair once again clouding his face.

“But—” Davos changed his tone. “I, Davos, the new lifelong magistrate of Amendolara, do not agree with revenge by slaughter! The crimes of the Lucanians must be repaid, but I hope it can be done in another way.”

A glimmer of light returned to Bacule’s eyes. He looked up at Davos and asked eagerly, “What way?”

“All the men of your tribe will become city-state slaves of Amendolara! In peacetime, they will build roads, repair walls, dig canals, tend fields, herd cattle... In wartime, they will serve as auxiliary troops, marching alongside the citizens!” Davos stared at Bacule.

Bacule was silent for a moment. In truth, that was exactly how they had treated the people of Amendolara after occupying the town. O God Asinu, this was truly retribution! But his greatest concern was not for the men of his tribe. “What about the women?”

“They will also be city-state slaves. They can shear wool, learn weaving, pick olives... As for the unmarried girls and widows among them, my soldiers—the new citizens of Amendolara—will take them as wives!” Davos emphasized the last sentence.

Bacule was shaken. He sat up abruptly, staring at Davos in disbelief. “As concubines?!”

“No, as wives!” Davos affirmed. “That is my sincerity! I demand that you and your tribe serve Amendolara faithfully as slaves for five years. You must silently endure any abuse from the citizens. Of course, if a citizen tries to attack you, they will be severely punished. But if any of your tribe escapes or attacks a citizen, for each one who escapes, I will execute ten Lucanians. For each citizen injured, I will execute ten of your tribesmen!” Davos’s expression turned somewhat fierce.

Bacule was silent again, then asked in a low voice, “And after five years?”

“After five years, you will all become freemen. If you wish to become citizens of Amendolara, you may apply to the city-state. If you want to return to your homeland, we won’t stop you—but I think by then, you won’t want to leave.” Davos spoke confidently. “Furthermore, if you perform well—for example, helping the citizens win a war, or building a fine road in a short time—the five-year term can be reduced...”

Bacule’s expression was much more lively than when he had first entered the room, like a dead man brought back to life. After all, going from certain death to a hope of freedom, the joy in his heart was obvious. He also sensed goodwill from this new magistrate toward the Lucanians, otherwise he wouldn’t have his soldiers marry Lucanian women, making them relatives of the captured tribe. So he said, “I personally agree to your proposal. But I need to go back and discuss it with my tribe, especially my father. Once we agree, should we sign an agreement?”

“Agreement?” Davos sneered. “There is no agreement here. Only a promise.”

“What?!” Bacule was shocked. A matter of life and death for his tribe depended merely on the other’s words?

“Don’t you know that every citizen of Amendolara wants to execute you and Hetushu? I am the only one who disagrees. (In truth, the new citizens have no ill will toward the Lucanians. After all, they are not the victims; they are the victors and beneficiaries.) Under these circumstances, I can only slowly persuade them. Your good behavior and time will erode their hatred. You are not yet qualified to sign an agreement with me. Either trust me, or go back to captivity and wait until you die!” Davos said sternly.

Bacule’s face turned ashen. His voice rasped, “You are too young... On what grounds should we...”

Davos said confidently, “On what grounds? On the grounds that I am the commander who defeated the Lucanian coalition. The soldiers trust me because I always keep my promises. And as the lifelong magistrate of Amendolara, the people are willing to trust me because I promised to bring security to Amendolara, so it will never suffer disaster again!”

Bacule stared up at Davos in a daze. The strength in Davos’s eyes and the frankness in his words made Bacule yield. He said in a heavy voice, “I will go back and discuss it with my tribe. If we agree, I hope you will keep your promise!”

“Of course! In fact, when the time comes, the citizens who have become relatives of your tribe will be the first to demand your freedom.” A hint of a smile appeared on Davos’s face.

Bacule said nothing more. Relying on women to win them freedom was a disgrace to these Lucanian warriors—but then, who could blame them for losing the war?

After Bacule left, Davos said to Asiastes, who had been standing silently nearby, “Tomorrow, you will take Bacule to the place where the Lucanian women are being held. Let him choose the women who will marry the soldiers, then have someone dress them up nicely. Meanwhile, have your uncle Antonios and officers like Capus stir up the unmarried soldiers to go to the Senate and demand to marry Lucanian women!”

“Will the soldiers be willing to take these natives as wives?” Asiastes asked curiously.

“So you need to spread rumors. Say that Lucanian women are tall, well-built, and able to endure hardship...”

“Are those... true?” Asiastes was skeptical. The Greeks revered “human beauty,” and just “well-built” alone could attract many Greek men’s attention.

“Of course it’s true. Think about it, the Lucanians live in the mountains, climbing up and down every day, constantly exercising. Moreover, they are famous in Magna Graecia for livestock; their Lucanian beef is the best offering for Zeus’ temples in the Greek cities. They eat a lot of meat, while we eat mostly grains. Which do you think makes people taller and stronger?!” Davos explained earnestly.

Asiastes recalled the captured Lucanians and nodded in realization.

“Also, marrying Lucanian women comes with a city-state preferential law (though Davos had just thought of it and not yet proposed to the Senate): if we later occupy Lucanian lands, these men will be given priority or larger allotments of land, since they are sons-in-law of the Lucanians and can get along with the locals more easily.” Davos added further incentive for the soldiers.

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Even Asiastes felt a bit tempted, but he still had a question: “Lord Davos, I still don’t quite understand. These Lucanians are our captives. It’s only natural to make them slaves. Why go through all this trouble? Why negotiate with them and make promises?”