Volume 5: The Hegemon of Southern Italy, Chapter 78: Conflict

The Daonia camp, being close to the city of Tarentum but still far from the battlefield, didn’t need to be built particularly complex or sturdy. So the next day, when Davos attended the war council, the entire camp was at rest. According to military code: when not at war, one person from each squad could be granted leave to go outside, but had to return before sunset.

Since they were now in a semi-ready state, with no certainty about when the army would march to the battlefield, Antonios, who also served as Military Affairs Officer, issued an order: all soldiers going outside could only wander near the camp and had to return upon hearing the bugle.

The soldiers weren’t idle in camp; most of them were keen on competitive games organized by the higher-ups of the Army Corps, such as tug-of-war, rugby matches, football matches… and so on. The soldiers enjoyed them endlessly. But one thing was forbidden: gambling. Anyone caught would face military punishment.

A few soldiers on leave wanted to see the famous city of Tarentum in southern Italy. After all, most of them were not merchants or wealthy men; they spent their years working in the fields and had no time to travel to Tarentum, separated only by a gulf. But since the rules didn’t allow them to enter Tarentum city, they could only stroll through the market set up in front of the camp.

So the Tarentine vendors began calling out energetically.

“Come see! A divine object from the great Eastern land of Egypt—the hide of a hippopotamus! Look how thick it is! Give it two hard cuts with a knife… See? Not a scratch! Made into leather armor, it’s both light and sturdy. When fighting, you won’t have to worry about getting hurt!”

“Friend, have you seen a straight sword like this? Look, double-edged and very sharp!… It’s okay, take a try… A bit heavy, isn’t it?! This is the short sword used by the natives of the Iberian Peninsula. I hear the Carthaginians have never been able to conquer the Iberian Peninsula—this weapon is why!”

…

Because they wanted to earn the soldiers’ money, the small market had mostly weapon vendors, followed by food sellers.

“Try these dates from Libya! They may be small, but they’re very sweet—much sweeter than figs!”

“Salt-cured ostrich meat from the Bedouins! If you’ve never tasted it, come and try!… Ostrich? What’s that?… Well, I’ll tell you, it’s the biggest bird I’ve ever seen—as big as a horse, but it can’t fly, only run. On the desert, it runs faster than a horse!”

To be fair, as a famous trading city-state in Magna Graecia, Tarentum’s goods were richer and more diverse than those of Thurii. This temporary market gave a glimpse of that.

The soldiers wandered through with great interest. They weren’t just browsing without buying. As Daonian citizens and preparatory citizens, the repeated land distributions ensured they had enough to eat and wear. They sold surplus grain and livestock at the market for extra pocket money. Added to the spoils shared after each victorious battle, their purses were quite full.

Olivus was also one of those who had taken leave. He had temporarily handed his military duties to his adjutant and was relaxing by strolling through the temporary market.

At that moment, he stood in front of a stall selling metal ornaments. He picked up a palm-sized gold ornament and examined it closely.

“This is a statue of the Egyptian god Horus, from the hand of a famous carving master at the Temple of Memphis. Look how exquisite the carving is! Wear it, and you’ll gain Horus’s protection!” the merchant urged.

Olivus shook his head lightly and put the item down, saying regretfully, “It’s a nice piece, but I worship Hades.”

“Occasionally going to another god won’t offend Hades. Their domains are completely different…” Greeks approached their gods with familiarity rather than obsession; they believed in many gods—singing different tunes on different mountains: praying to the sea god when sailing, to the war god when fighting, to Hermes when trading, to Apollo when competing… so the merchant spoke persuasively.

But Olivus shook his head again and left the stall.

The merchant cursed bitterly behind him: “All Daonians are so stubborn!”

In the past, Olivus would have turned back and argued with the merchant. But now he felt his status was different and he disdained to bother.

Walking further, he saw several large tents set up ahead. In front of the tents stood a few pretty women. A fat merchant shouted loudly: “Cheapest price! Most comfortable enjoyment! Just pay five drachmas, and you can have a good time with the most beautiful girls of Tarentum…”

Olivus frowned. Ever since that incident on the way to Persia, he, once a man of pleasure, had reformed completely. Now as soon as anyone mentioned “whoring,” he felt disgust.

He turned to go back, but Timias had his eye on him. Running over, he grabbed him and urged, “Don’t go! Seven drachmas, two girls—how about that? I’m taking a huge loss here!”

Without a word, Olivus swung his caught left hand hard. Timias staggered back a few steps and landed on the ground.

This theater owner of Tarentum had spent a long time without making a single sale. Finally losing his temper, he stood up and shouted curses: “Damn Daonians! A bunch of country bumpkins! Don’t know how to enjoy pleasure! What military regulations! I’ve never heard of such things in the Tarentine army! That’s just some worthless nonsense your lowborn magistrate invented to make you easier to rule! He wants you to have no freedom, no democracy, just obediently follow his orders! And you don’t even resist! You deserve to be ruled by a tyrant, obeying him like slaves!…”

Olivus heard this and anger flared. He strode over.

Nearby, other soldiers overheard these words and were equally indignant. This fat man wasn’t just insulting them—he was insulting their great commander!

In an instant, Timias was surrounded on all sides.

He stared at the angry faces, his bluster failing, and shrieked: “What do you think you’re doing?! This is Tarentum!—”

Before he could finish, Olivus said, “Beat him!” and threw a right punch straight into his pudgy face…

In the market, Tarentines heard the cries of pain from the crowd surrounded by Daonian soldiers, but no one dared step forward to stop it.

“Woo! Woo! Woo!…” The bugle sounded just in time.

“Assembly call!” the soldiers exclaimed.

Almost at once, every soldier in the temporary market dropped what they were doing and sprinted back to camp. In the blink of an eye, not a single Daonian remained in the market.

The Daonian soldiers returned to camp so quickly that the earlier commotion seemed like a dream—except for the theater owner still lying on the ground, groaning…

When the camp gates opened again, out came fully armed troops. They marched out in columns from the east, north, and south gates simultaneously, speeding up the exit.

The Tarentine vendors saw these Daonian soldiers, who had been laughing and joking in the market moments before, now looking just as relaxed. But that casualness did not affect the neatness of their marching columns or the speed of their movements.

Two Army Corps departed the camp, but that didn’t mean the camp was unguarded. There were still soldiers from the baggage camp and over a thousand Daonian freemen forming a reserve unit, which supplemented the Army Corps. Normally they performed guard duties and baggage camp chores, but in critical moments they also took part in battle. So the reserve soldiers’ tasks were just as numerous and hard. Still, every expedition saw countless freemen scrambling to join, because it allowed them to earn merit and shorten the time to becoming preparatory citizens.

In fact, a Daonian Army Corps, besides the seven battalions of fighting soldiers, also included a medical camp, engineering camp, baggage camp, and reconnaissance detachments… Its actual headcount far exceeded 7,000. If marching within Daonia, Davos would try to arrange a single marching column, even though it stretched the formation out. But on the flat, solid road system, it actually quickened the march. Now, in the suburbs of Tarentum, the richest city-state in southern Italy, the roads were all dirt paths. It didn’t matter which route they took, as long as they didn’t trample the farmland. So Davos simply divided the army into four columns, each with five files, advancing in a broad front, side by side.

The whole way was filled with dust and noise.

Many Tarentine citizens watched from the roadside. Faced with the majestic appearance of the Daonian army, the Tarentines felt mixed emotions. But in the city’s crisis, such a large and impressive reinforcement also brought a sense of security to their panicked hearts.

Before long, the Daonian army arrived outside Tarentum.

When Eumachus received the news, he was startled by how quickly the Daonian army had assembled—especially since Tarentum’s citizen soldiers were still straggling into the square.

Diomilas, though also affected, retorted: “The Daonian soldiers were all in camp; at the sound of the bugle they could set off. We have to notify every district, every street…”

Eumachus had to hurry out of the city to apologize to Davos, asking the Daonian army to wait a while outside. At the same time, he invited Davos into the city, to his own residence for some wine and a brief rest—after all, it was early autumn noon, and the sun was still scorching.

Davos politely declined Eumachus’s goodwill. How could he leave his suffering men behind to enjoy comfort alone?

Soon after, Triphyas led a thousand soldiers from Heraclea out of the city and joined the Daonian army.

Not long after that, Tudeples arrived with two thousand Metapontine soldiers.

Over an hour later, the gates of Tarentum finally opened wide again, and a clamor of voices poured out…

“Oh! Oh! Is this a trip to the battlefield or to the cemetery? Everyone crying like this—is it really that serious? It’s just a fight with some natives!…” Olivus, still sour about the morning incident, had no goodwill for the Tarentines. Seeing this chaotic farewell scene, he kept sneering sarcastically.