Volume 4: The League of Dionia, Chapter 50: Sneak Attack on Crimissa

After hearing Davos’s words, Agasia watched the departing fleet, recalling how Cleanho and the others had been complaining to him lately, and nodded. “You’re right!”

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Half an hour later, the troop transport fleet had already left Thurii far behind, sailing south along the route to Syracuse.

Sitting on the lead ship, Timasion gave an order, and the soldiers on board immediately sprang into action, seizing the captain and crew, and shouting, “We won’t hurt you—we just want you to change course!”

While calming the frightened captain and sailors, they raised a red flag on the main mast. The officers scattered among the various ships, who had only received Timasion’s secret notification a day ago, saw the signal flag flying from the lead ship and immediately acted. Within a short time, they had taken control of all forty vessels.

“Head for the beach between Crimissa and Castron!” Timasion ordered the captain.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” the captain shouted, though his voice trembled.

The soldier guarding him immediately kicked him. “Just do what the leader says!”

When the sailors saw their captain insulted, they grew restless, but after two of them were stabbed by the mercenaries, they backed down.

“We are all freemen registered with the Daonia Alliance! Aren’t you afraid of incurring the Alliance’s wrath?!” the captain cried out in grief and anger, looking at the wounded sailors struggling on the deck.

That was indeed a problem! Timasion had spent over two months in the Alliance and had some understanding of Daonian law: even for mere registered sailors like these, who had not yet become preparatory citizens, if they suffered unjust treatment in a foreign state, the law stipulated that the Daonia Alliance was obligated to negotiate with the offending city-state, let alone the protection afforded to full citizens. If he actually killed them, the senators of the Daonia Senate, who were once his comrades-in-arms, might be manageable, but it would likely enrage that man who “only cares about the law, not personal relationships.” His hope of using Daonia’s power to hold Crimissa would probably be dashed.

He had someone bandage the wounds of the two injured sailors and spoke as calmly as possible to the captain: “I swear by Zeus, I, Timasion, have no intention of harming the Alliance. As soon as you set us ashore, you can sail away!”

The captain, half believing, ordered the helmsman to change course.

Timasion whispered hurriedly to his men: “Try to inform the comrades on the other ships to avoid hurting anyone if possible!”

Why “try”? Because this was a hastily assembled crew of mercenaries. Only because they didn’t want to be bound by the Alliance, and because of the high prestige of leaders Timasion and Cleanho, were they willing to follow their commands. But to say he could truly control them—Timasion knew he didn’t have that ability.

Another half hour later, guided by two guides who had been heavily bribed, the fleet chose to land on a sparsely populated beach closer to Castron, to avoid being discovered and blocked by the people of Crimissa.

While the captain worried that the ship’s bottom might be damaged, the soldiers shoved the crew off the ship.

“You said you’d let us go!” the captain shouted in panic at Timasion.

“I did say that. But not now. To prevent you from hurrying back to report, you’ll have to stay here a while longer!” Timasion said coldly. He ordered the soldiers to drag the ships onto the beach, then tied up the captain and sailors and tossed them into the grass on the shore. During the process, some sailors naturally resisted, resulting in casualties, but he had no time to worry about that now. Together with Cleanho and the other officers, he quickly assembled the mercenaries, then took out some timber that had been hidden under tents given by Davos and former comrades. Everyone worked together to quickly build scaling ladders.

Timasion knew Davos was meticulous. His original request for tents and grain was not only to conceal the siege equipment but also to lull Davos. Now, after each soldier had packed two days’ rations, he said again to the captain lying in the grass: “The supplies on your ships belong to your magistrate Davos. Don’t forget to return them to him when you go back.”

Then, ignoring the sailors’ loud pleas, he led the mercenaries in a rapid march south.

A force of seventeen hundred men moving across the plain during the day was bound to leave traces, especially in the sunny spring planting season. Timasion and his men had initially planned to land at night, but that would mean the fleet of over forty ships would have to drift at sea during the day. Staying too close to the coast would arouse the vigilance and suspicion of patrol boats from Croton and Crimissa, as well as passing merchant ships; staying too far out, they would struggle to navigate accurately in the dark and risk accidents.

So Timasion and his men decided on a surprise attack, to catch Crimissa off guard. The key was speed—so that even if Crimissa got word, they couldn’t react in time.

Between Castron and Crimissa lay a large marshland, formed by the annual flooding of the River Lacoeli and its tributaries. When Timasion had secretly scouted the terrain in early December last year, the coastal side was easily passable, and there was even a ferry and a pontoon bridge to facilitate land travel and trade between Crimissa and Castron.

However, what Timasion hadn’t anticipated was that by the end of December, with spring’s arrival and melting snow, coupled with heavy rains in January, the river swelled far more than in previous years. The marshland had naturally expanded significantly, making the mercenaries’ forced march much more difficult.

Just as Timasion and his men were trudging through the marsh, occasionally they spotted farmers or slaves south of the marsh driving livestock or poultry to graze at the marsh’s edge. Upon spotting the distant mercenaries, they would flee in panic. Later, a few scattered cavalrymen appeared on Timasion’s horizon, telling him that the element of surprise was likely already lost.

Timasion immediately called together Cleanho, Torax, and other officers for an urgent meeting in the marsh: should they call off the attack on Crimissa?

Cleanho, Torax, and most of the others insisted on continuing. They all believed that after such a long wait and careful preparation, they had finally obtained such a good opportunity. If they gave up easily and returned to Daonia, being laughed at was secondary; more importantly, their intentions would be exposed. Davos would certainly be wary of them, and the Thurians would treat them coldly. In the end, they would be forced to leave Magna Graecia and never get such a good chance again!

Seeing everyone agreed, Timasion immediately laid out his revised plan after some thought: increase marching speed, reach the city walls before the Crimysans could fully prepare, launch an assault, take Crimissa in the shortest possible time, then defend against any possible reinforcements, and quickly secure the Daonia Alliance’s recognition of their possession of Crimissa and their request to join the Daonian League. With the protection of the powerful Daonia, their safety would be assured!

The officers had no objections to his new plan, so they sprang into action.

“Brothers, speed up! Speed up!! Once we get out of here, Crimissa will be like a ripe olive waiting for us to pluck!” Timasion shouted to encourage the somewhat disheartened mercenaries.

Cleanho, Torax, and the other officers also urged them on.

The battle-hardened soldiers knew the urgency allowed no hesitation. They cursed the wretched terrain as they pushed forward… finally, the main force emerged from the marsh.

At that moment, a cavalryman who had been watching rode up and shouted: “I am Timaiatis, the Patrol Captain of Crimissa! Strangers, you have entered the territory of Crimysa. Immediately stop—” His voice was cut short as a javelin pierced his chest, and he fell from his horse, frightening the nearby cavalrymen into galloping away.

“Damnit! Who threw that javelin?!” Timasion, who was hurrying forward, cursed loudly. He had hoped to deceive the Crimysans a little, buying some time for their attack, but these bloodthirsty, self-willed mercenaries had ruined it.

“Since it’s happened, don’t blame them anymore, or it will affect the men’s morale!” Cleanho whispered.

Since landing, a series of setbacks had left Timasion very frustrated, but he had to suppress it: Cleanho was right—they had to hurry.

He spat forcefully, turned back to the guides, and asked: “How far to Crimissa?”

Seeing his twisted, ferocious expression, the guide swallowed nervously and said in a trembling voice: “…About… about ten stadia still…”

Timasion glanced at the sky and said to the herald: “Tell the brothers to push harder and keep marching. We’ll rest when we reach Crimissa!”

Along the way, they saw few people. The farmers and slaves who had been working in the fields had clearly gotten word and fled into the city.

Half an hour later, Timasion glimpsed Crimissa in the distance. He immediately ordered the troops to stop their rapid march and proceed slowly.

Crimissa was located south of Cape Alice, on the north bank of the River Umbria. Over two hundred years ago, it was originally a native settlement, later occupied by the Sybarites, who built the city of Crimissa. It remained a subordinate colony of Sybaris until a hundred years ago, when Sybaris was defeated, and the weak Crimissa had to submit to its powerful neighbor, Croton. Decades later, with the founding of Thurii, Athens and Croton reached an agreement, granting independence to the pair of “unfortunate brothers,” Crimissa and Castron. However, last year’s war between Thurii and Croton shattered Crimissa’s neutrality. It had intended to join powerful Croton, hoping at least to share some of the spoils of victory, but never expected that Croton would be defeated by the weak Amendolara. Crimissa itself suffered a heavy toll of nearly two thousand casualties.