Volume 5: The Hegemon of Southern Italy, Chapter 73: Leotychides

“Hmm… the Tarentines didn’t behave as obviously as Haibatalus claimed, but they certainly don’t have much to do with the other city-states here in Magna Graecia,” replied the soldier who knew Tarentum well—Sitalces—gravely. “It’s only in recent years, because of the constant raids by the Messapians, that they’ve pushed for a Southern Italian defense alliance in Magna Graecia, to jointly resist the native barbarians! Although cities like the former Thurii and Croton joined, no one was really enthusiastic…”

“What right do these Tarentines have to look down on us!” Haibatalus shouted. “Brothers, you don’t know—the Tarentines claim to be descendants of Sparta, but that’s a lie! They’re the descendants of bastards, children born from Spartan women and slaves!”

At these words, the soldiers erupted in uproar. Most of them were commoners with little education, so naturally they couldn’t know Tarentum’s history. Shocked, they asked, “Haibatalus, is that true?! Tarentines are children of Spartan women and slaves—?”

“Of course it’s true! Any soldier who was originally a citizen of Thurii should know this. It’s said that hundreds of years ago, Spartan men were away at war for long periods, and the women… hehe… got lonely, so they ended up sleeping with slaves! By the time the children were born and grew up, the Spartan men returned, learned what had happened, couldn’t bear the humiliation, and drove them out of the city-state. So the Spartans founded Tarentum not because they had too many people and not enough grain and were forced to colonize, but for the stability and reputation of Sparta. So it shouldn’t be Tarentines looking down on us; we should look down on them! Just a bunch of bastards! Just a—!” Haibatalus was still gloating sarcastically when he heard those around him shout in unison: “Watch out! Get out of the way!”

Before he could react, a heavy fist slammed into his face. His vision went black, and he pitched forward, only caught by the comrades behind him.

“Hey, why are you hitting people!” The surrounding soldiers, shocked, rushed forward to restrain the furious soldier.

“Shut up! Shut up! If you say another word, I’ll beat you to death!…” The soldier’s eyes were red, his face twisted with rage as he roared at Haibatalus.

“Shut up, Prosous, have you gone mad!” Squad leader Sitalces quickly stepped forward to rebuke the soldier who had struck. “Inciting trouble, assaulting a comrade—you’ll be punished under the Military Code!”

Just then, Haibatalus came to his senses. Seeing who had hit him, his anger flared. “How dare you hit me! Brothers, beat him! Beat this damn rock!” He lunged forward, shoved Sitalces aside, and began grappling with Prosous. Several other soldiers, egged on by him, joined the fight.

The ship descended into chaos. The commotion naturally drew the attention of platoon leader Parmenion, who was on the same vessel. By the time he arrived with men, Prosous had already knocked Haibatalus and the other soldiers to the deck.

“Prosous, do you want to be expelled from Daonia?!” Parmenion’s shout jolted the still-furious Prosous. He seemed to remember something, immediately stopped kicking, and stood still with his arms at his sides.

“Tie him up!” Parmenion ordered.

The soldiers hesitated but then moved forward. Prosous did not resist, allowing them to pin him down on the deck.

“Platoon leader, he started it! I didn’t provoke him—he just came up and punched me!” Haibatalus pointed at the bruises on his face, complaining to Parmenion.

“Don’t speak yet.” Parmenion ignored him and instead asked squad leader Sitalces for the details. His face darkened immediately.

“Why did you assault your comrade?!” Parmenion demanded.

Prosous, with his hands bound behind his back and forced to the ground, said nothing no matter how Parmenion interrogated him.

Parmenion found himself in a headache-inducing situation.

Earlier, the First and Second Army Corps had seen many soldiers relocate to Crimissa and Asperustum, where a Fourth Corps was to be formed. Consequently, the First and Second Corps had to expand recruitment to fill the gaps.

Prosous, registered as a foreigner applying to become a preparatory citizen, was said to be from Argos. After he entered the training camp, his performance quickly amazed all the instructors: the young man was not only robust but also highly skilled—equally adept with shield, spear, short sword, and javelin. He was proficient in marching formations and following commands, and he learned the unique tactical maneuvers of Daonia almost instantly. In the great competition of the training camp, he easily took first place.

The instructors marveled at his military talent, and officers at every level heard of his deeds, all vying to have him join their units. Matonis was among them; it was said he went through Davos to eventually secure Prosous for his own unit, repeatedly reminding Parmenion to focus on grooming him.

However, Parmenion soon discovered a major flaw in Prosous: he didn’t fit in. During training, he performed excellently, but during breaks he rarely spoke, seldom conversed with his comrades, and always sat alone, lost in thought. His comrades nicknamed him “the Rock,” accusing him of arrogance. That was why Haibatalus had so many allies in the fight just now—it was clear the soldiers in the unit disliked him.

“Fine. If you won’t talk now, once we’re ashore, the military judge will make you talk!” Parmenion threw out that line angrily and left, already pondering how to broach this matter with Matonis.

Prosous was tied to the mast. He didn’t care about the strange looks from the surrounding soldiers, nor about the military punishment. But his eyes still reddened. He lowered his head, struggling to keep tears from falling, because at that moment he thought of his mother.

Prosous was not his real name. His name was Leotychides, son of the former Spartan king Agis. His mother had eventually taken her own life due to the rumors and slander, and he had finally made up his mind to leave Sparta.

When searching for a place to settle, he found few options. The eastern Mediterranean was now dominated by Sparta. Persia, at war with Sparta, was a possibility—but although Leotychides wanted revenge on Sparta, he did not wish to tarnish his own and his father’s reputation, and further convince the people that choosing his uncle Agesilaus as king had been correct. The western Mediterranean was a region beyond Sparta’s reach, with many Greek city-states. Yet he still hoped that one day he could cause trouble for Sparta—the Sparta that had humiliated him and caused his mother’s death. So only a few city-states were viable.

Syracuse was one, but it was allied with Sparta. Carthage was another, but it was a foreign people with a different language, and Leotychides knew nothing about it. Ultimately, he chose Daonia because, when Phoebidas had complained to the Council of Elders about Daonia’s rudeness to Sparta during his embassy, Leotychides had been present at the session. He was very curious about this rare alliance that dared to despise Sparta. Earlier, the ephor Cheirisophus had recommended to the Council a man he called “a foreigner with extraordinary military talent,” and that man was now Daonia’s magistrate. Leotychides clearly remembered that his uncle had also expressed concern about that man.

After he managed to escape Sparta and arrived in Magna Graecia, he discovered that Daonia’s influence in the region was vast; it had almost become the most powerful city-state alliance in southern Italy, and it had been founded less than two years ago.

Leotychides was astonished by Daonia’s rapid rise. He settled in Thurii’s port to observe. After learning about Daonia’s past deeds, its unique system of city-state governance, and its urban culture—especially after witnessing a triumph—he sensed a vague premonition that one day this alliance would fulfill the wish in his heart. He felt he had come to the right place, so he decided to conceal his identity and stay in Daonia.

He had brought some of the gold and silver that his father Agis had secretly stored in Crete to sustain himself, and he applied to the alliance to become a Daonian citizen. Thanks to the brutal Spartan upbringing of the agoge he had endured since childhood, he stood out in Daonia’s training camp, earning the status of a full citizen in the army before even becoming a preparatory citizen.

But still immersed in the grief of his mother’s death and nursing an unforgettable hatred for the Spartans, he could not integrate into this new community. The word “bastard” was taboo for him; no wonder he went berserk upon hearing it.

…

The Gulf of Tarentum was shaped like a gourd. Two naturally formed arc-shaped bays stacked together not only expanded the harbor’s capacity but also made it safer. The Tarentines had reinforced both the opening of the gourd-shaped bay and the narrow waist, building two water gates to further strengthen the harbor’s defenses.

At this moment, the first water gate was wide open. Countless troop ships filed in, guided and supervised by several dozen Tarentine patrol boats, slowly sailing toward the northwest corner of the bay. The coastline of the entire gulf was quite long; Tarentum city lay at the southeast corner of the bay and could not encompass all the land defenses. Therefore, Tarentum had arranged the Daonian reinforcements’ camp at the northwest corner of the bay—the weakest point of Tarentine control over the gulf, and also intended to let the Daonians help defend the bay.

Davos’s flagship passed through the first water gate. Where the sea had been rough with waves, here it was completely calm, leaving him deeply impressed. He thought: Even though Thurii’s harbor had been built with breakwaters and expanded inward, it was still somewhat crowded. In a storm, damage to ships was hard to avoid. This bay, on the other hand, had no such concerns—truly a naturally excellent harbor. He wondered what the other famous harbor in Magna Graecia, Croton’s harbor, was like.

Note: Today I have a bit of time and want to say something about the historical Archytas. From the materials I’ve collected, most ink is spent on his mathematical achievements; other aspects are only briefly mentioned. He was called “the Pericles of Magna Graecia.” After serving as Tarentum’s magistrate for many years, Tarentum remained prosperous and strong in Apulia for over a decade. But note that even during this prosperous period, Brundisium and Manduria were never recorded as being captured by Tarentum—meaning Tarentum’s prosperity was still defensive in nature. He also invited Plato to Tarentum as a guest when Plato was rejected by Dionysius II. Plato once believed that Archytas was the philosopher-king he expected in his ideal state, because the Pythagorean school not only passed down mathematics but also had its own philosophy. Archytas eventually died in a shipwreck; his body was said to have been recovered only centuries later.

This book initially had no plan to have him die at this time, but the protagonist’s butterfly effect caused the Tarentines, who had always been defensive against the Messapians, to launch a major attack, and as I wrote, this character developed beyond my control to this point. Dying in battle is better than sleeping at the bottom of the sea; his mathematical achievements will have to be completed by others, and I hope it will be the Daonian Academy.