Volume 4: The League of Dionia ,Chapter 45: Thurii Market Court

According to Spartan law: the throne is inherited by the eldest son; but if the eldest son was born before the king ascended to the throne, he shall yield to the eldest son born after the king's accession; if the deceased king has no sons, the throne shall pass to the nearest male relative; if the heir is still young, a regent shall act in his place (Lycurgus, the founder of the current Spartan system, once served as regent).

Agis had only one son, Leotychides, aged twenty-three. For him to succeed as king would normally be a matter of course, but whether Leotychides was truly Agis's biological son had long been a source of gossip among the Spartan populace. During the Peloponnesian War, the Athenian general Alcibiades defected to Sparta, and King Agis held him in high regard. Unexpectedly, the handsome and charming Athenian seduced the king's wife, and the whole city of Sparta came to know of it. Deeply humiliated, Agis swore to tear Alcibiades limb from limb, but Alcibiades, getting wind of the news, cleverly fled back to Athens. Not long afterward, Agis's wife became pregnant. Thus, the Spartan populace had their doubts about Leotychides becoming king.

And Agis's brother, forty-five-year-old Agesilaus, had always performed outstandingly. In the eyes of the people, he was a traditional, true Spartan. Although he was lame, he still enjoyed considerable support.

One can well imagine that the issue of succession would be enough to occupy the elders' minds, leaving them little energy to deal with trivial matters like Daonia.

...

The Corinthian merchant Theos came to Thurii for the second time. In just a few months, the harbor had changed greatly: first, the Daonians had dug inland on the north bank of the Crati River estuary, thereby expanding the harbor. Two long, poured-stone breakwaters, like the arms of a giant, embraced the merchant ships entering the port. The docks were no longer as crude as on his last visit; one wooden pier after another extended deep into the shore. On land stood orderly stone houses and buildings, along with flat, broad transport avenues...

Although many merchant ships came and went at the estuary, the harbor managers still directed them to dock and unload in an orderly manner, with well-organized procedures and high efficiency. The dock laborers also worked briskly, seldom shirking or bullying newcomers.

Theos occasionally saw men dressed in white chitons, holding paper and pen, strolling back and forth among the docks. Wherever they passed, the laborers became noticeably more diligent. Later, upon asking other merchants, he learned that these were public officials sent by the Daonia Registry Office, tasked with evaluating the daily work performance of these freemen who wished to become alliance citizens. If there were any misdeeds, obtaining preparatory citizenship after the required years would be quite difficult.

Of course, the two or three squads of fully armed soldiers patrolling the harbor also helped maintain good order.

When Theos entered the harbor, he realized that the Daonia Alliance had already encircled it with a thick, high wall. The market was located outside the wall.

Arriving at the market, it was similarly a bustling area. The original market wall had been demolished because there were too many shops; the market's expansion could not keep up with the increase in shops. Row upon row of shops and workshops occupied every empty space, leaving only wide passages for customers to buy and sell, for transporting goods, and for firefighters to use in case of fire.

In addition, there were two special buildings standing apart from the market.

One was the hospital. The physicians of the Daonia Alliance were highly skilled, and now most Greeks in northern Magna Graecia knew of them. Some even said they were far better than those in Croton! Moreover, Davos had founded the first comprehensive hospital in all of Greece, distinctly different from previous clinics. Whether in terms of facilities, systems, or management, it was standardized and strict. For patients, it was an unprecedented form of treatment—such a sense of sanctity that before the doctor even began treatment, the patient felt half cured. For physicians, it acted like a magnet, attracting their attention. It was said that if not for the strained relations between the Daonia Alliance and Croton, many Croton doctors would have come to study and observe. Naturally, the hospital was packed with people every day.

The other building also drew a crowd. When Theos asked, he learned it was a specially established court for the Thurii market and harbor, intended to quickly handle the various trade disputes and conflicts that frequently occurred there every day, providing convenience for merchants, customers, and the large numbers of sailors and laborers. Theos was very interested in this innovation, which no other Greek city-state had, so he squeezed into the crowd.

The Daonia Alliance established the office of judge in early November, mainly because after the influx of a large number of outsiders, the City Administrator was already overwhelmed with routine administrative affairs, let alone handling the more intricate legal disputes. The three City Administrators all complained of exhaustion. So Davos proposed, and after deliberation by the Senate, it was decided to establish the position of Chief Judge (in Greek city-states, there was no dedicated judge position; cases were often judged by generals or magistrates, and in Athens, the court didn't even have a judge—jurors made the verdict. In Daonia, Davos, as the sole magistrate, naturally held the highest judicial authority, but with his busy schedule, unless it was a major case, he could not spend time on ordinary disputes. So initially, this power was delegated to the City Administrators). The Chief Judge was responsible for supervising the lower judges assigned to each city and handling appeals. The list of candidates the Senate proposed to Davos for approval included Polyxides. Davos said nothing, but the winner in the end was Proxilaus (because Davos strongly recommended him).

Proxilaus was supposed to be based at the Thurii city court (though it was not fully built yet), with the court next to the market handled by his subordinates. But the newly founded alliance was like the morning sun, rising vigorously; the citizens were all busy with their own affairs, and there were almost no complex, high-impact cases for him to handle. So the energetic but idle new Chief Judge came to the market, usurped his subordinate's authority, and presided over cases himself.

"What's the next case?" Proxilaus asked impatiently as soon as he finished handling a dispute.

The subordinate judge, Phraocleon, gave him a resentful look. Phraocleon had originally been a subordinate of Kynogoratas, assisting the City Administrator with legal matters at City Hall. When the judiciary was separated out, there were not many people in the alliance proficient in law. Phraocleon was recommended by Kynogoratas and quickly promoted to lower judge, stepping into the ranks of mid-level officials. But he hadn't been happy for many days before Proxilaus took his place. He didn't dare say anything, because Proxilaus was not only a senator of the Senate but also the Chief Judge, a position so prominent that Davos had elevated it to a rank just below that of City Administrator to highlight the alliance's emphasis on law. Moreover, as Phraocleon's direct superior, Proxilaus had the authority to report his work performance to the Senate's Public Office Management Committee and to give recommendations when he sought a transfer.

"It's a case of an alliance citizen's wife accusing a Rhegium merchant of discrimination," Phraocleon said.

"Discrimination?" Proxilaus was puzzled.

"The woman is a Lucanian," Phraocleon said in a low voice.

"Oh." Proxilaus nodded. "Then bring both the plaintiff and the defendant up."

The court in the market was not large; it could only accommodate the judge, the scribe, the court clerk, the guards, and other public officials. The plaintiff and defendant had to stand outside in the open air. Behind them, an area was enclosed with iron railings, where the public could watch freely. This allowed the people and foreigners to learn about the alliance's laws, serving to educate and enlighten, while also subjecting the judge to public oversight.

A man and a woman entered the court. Under the guidance of the court clerk, they first recited the names of the three judges under the Lord of the Underworld Hades—Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus—and swore by their divine names that what they said was the truth.

Then the plaintiff made her statement.

The young Lucanian woman, speaking in Greek with a strange accent but relatively fluently, said: "Your Honor, I am the wife of Izam, an alliance citizen. Today I came to the market wanting to buy a pottery jar for olive oil. I went to his shop—" The woman pointed at the merchant beside her—"and found that his pottery had many styles and was quite beautiful, so I decided to buy from him. But just because I took a bit more time choosing, he suddenly flew into a rage at me. He said, 'Damn barbarian, are you buying or not? If you can't afford it, don't touch my jars with your dirty hands. If you break one, even selling you as a slave wouldn't be enough to compensate!' And he also said... also said..."

"Your Honor, she's lying! I never said such things!" the merchant shouted.

"Shut up for now. Let her finish, then it'll be your turn!" Proxilaus scolded, then said to the woman, "Continue."

"He also said—" The woman's face reddened. She glared at the merchant and said through gritted teeth, "He also said, 'A barbarian woman like you doesn't deserve such noble pottery. You'd be better off becoming my female slave, letting me... letting me enjoy myself. If I'm in a good mood, maybe I'll reward you with a pottery—'"

Note:

1. Alcibiades's affair is described in my other novel *From City-State to Empire*.

2. The Spartan succession rule—"if the eldest son was born before the king ascended to the throne, he shall yield to the eldest son born after the king's accession"—seems to have a similar tradition in Persia. One of the main reasons for Cyrus the Younger's rebellion at the beginning of the novel is that he was the eldest son born after his father's accession, while his brother, the Persian king Artaxerxes, was not. Thus, he believed he should be king. This is the principle of "born in the purple."