Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 5: Caldias, the Believer

“We don’t have any other cities in Croton. Using public funds to run a dedicated postal cart just for delivering letters would be far too wasteful. If… Asperustum still belonged to us, we might consider it. But then, our roads and bridges would have to be built like this too.” Stasippus stomped his foot. Indeed, Croton’s uneven dirt roads could easily shake a cart to pieces.

“Asperustum!” Speaking of that, it was a pain in the hearts of Croton’s populace. Nicostratus snorted and cursed bitterly: “It’s all the fault of that incompetent Council! You know, just a few years ago, this place was still part of our Croton Plain—all fertile land! And now it all belongs to the Daonians…”

“We should get going, or we won’t make it to Crimissa for tonight’s rest!” Stasippus changed the subject, reminding the two.

“How much farther to Crimissa?” Nicostratus rubbed his thighs and asked. Not used to going out much, he was a bit tired.

Stasippus stood up, looked ahead carefully, and pointed forward. “Lycasus, go check that stone marker. How far is it to Crimissa?”

“Are distances carved on the marker?” Lycasus walked over doubtfully.

After a moment, he pointed at the stone and shouted, “Crimissa 20 stadia, is that it?”

“That’s right.”

“And… the next line shows a little house carved, with 5 stadia written. What does that mean?”

“That means there’s a relay station five stadia ahead, where you can rest briefly, get food, or even stay overnight.” A passerby next to Lycasus answered.

“Oh, thank you!” Lycasus quickly replied politely.

“You’re doctors?” The man saw the medical kit slung over his shoulder and asked with a smile.

“Yes, my teacher and I are going to Thurii to attend a… uh… medical forum.”

“The Daonian doctors are highly skilled, and with the blessing of the Lord of the Underworld, they can even bring the dying back to life. You’ve come to the right place to learn!” The man looked knowing. “What a coincidence—I’m also going to Thurii.”

The man’s words made Nicostratus uncomfortable. He stood up: “Let’s go. We still have a road to travel.”

The group walked along the pedestrian path.

Beyond the pedestrian path stretched field after field of wheat being plowed, no different from what they had seen before. The only difference was the irrigation canals—crisscrossed, wider, and deeper. And the slaves worked with far more enthusiasm; some even sang loudly at their labor. Their masters not only didn’t stop them, but some even sang along in response. Compared to the sluggish, dull slaves of Croton, Daonian slaves were more like normal people. And it wasn’t an isolated case—almost every Daonian slave Lycasus had seen was like this.

Lycasus didn’t quite understand it. He came from a farming family and knew the life of farmers well. Croton farmers usually owned one or two slaves, and couldn’t afford more. Since they needed labor for farm work, they relied on their slaves and therefore didn’t exploit them as ruthlessly as the city’s workshop owners did. Instead, they treated their slaves as part of the family.

When Lycasus was a child, he had been carefully cared for by the family slave. He always felt that old Thracian man was more like a father than his own father.

If Croton farmers treated their slaves well enough already, could Daonians treat them even better? Lycasus thought it unlikely. He wanted to ask Stasippus, but turned his head and saw Nicostratus deep in discussion about medical matters with Stasippus, so he had to let it go for now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to catch sight of the man who had spoken earlier walking not far behind them. An idea struck him, and he slowed his pace: “My name is Lycasus, from Croton. Thank you for your earlier advice.”

“My name is Cerdias, from Scylletium.” The man smiled gently. “I’ve been to Thurii many times and know a fair bit about Daonia. If there’s anything you don’t understand about this city-state alliance, feel free to ask me.”

The man seemed to have read his thoughts. Lycasus scratched his head sheepishly and asked, “I don’t understand—why are these slaves so happy?”

Cerdias followed Lycasus’s pointing finger and saw the slaves singing loudly in the wheat fields. He thought for a moment, then said a few words: “It’s because they have hope.”

“Hope?”

Cerdias’s expression turned solemn, his voice low and measured: “The great Lord of the Underworld once said: everyone’s fate is different. Some are born rich, some poor; some unfortunately become slaves, some are lucky enough to be nobles. But as long as you always hold kindness in your heart and never give up your efforts, when life ends and judgment comes in the Underworld, before the impartial Golden Scales, the status and wealth you had in life are but illusions. What truly decides whether each soul goes to the beautiful Elysium or the terrible Hell is what you did in your life. The good go to Elysium, the wicked go to Hell. Those who strive all their lives enjoy music and fine food; those who are lazy and idle suffer eternal hard labor…”

Lycasus listened, stunned: “You… you mean… these slaves work so enthusiastically just to enter Elysium in the future?”

“It’s not entirely because of that,” Cerdias said softly. “Davos, the magistrate of Daonia, who carries the blood of Hades, was inspired by the Father God. He passed a decree through the Senate: ‘Every year at the Festival of Hades, the state slaves who have performed outstandingly that year shall be granted freedom.’ And on that same day, Davos also frees his own slaves who have shown good performance. Because Davos is deeply loved by the Daonian people, influenced by the magistrate, those who have the means also consider granting freedom to private slaves who have contributed to the household…

I recall that last year, a Nubian slave, sent by his master to the port market to buy goods, rescued two children who had fallen into the Crati River. Not only did the children’s father offer to pay for his manumission, but the entire city’s populace demanded he be given freedom… So you see, with this kind of atmosphere in Daonia, wouldn’t these slaves strive with all their might to stand out?”

Lycasus nodded. Croton did occasionally grant freedom to slaves, but never with a law codifying it, nor with such frequent releases and in such large numbers.

There was actually another reason, which Cerdias didn’t fully understand: although the age composition of Daonian citizens and preparatory citizens was mainly young and middle-aged (due to Daonia’s large influx of immigrants), citizens had to participate in military training over a dozen times more often than in Croton, and they also had to shoulder garrison duties. They didn’t have the energy or time to properly tend their own lands, relying more heavily on slaves. Thus, not only did they treat slaves as part of the family, but they also gave them more autonomy in their work, which in turn better stimulated the slaves’ initiative.

“In these past two years, slaves from Scylletium have occasionally escaped to Clampetia precisely because of this reason,” Cerdias added.

“Ah… we also had a large-scale slave escape in Croton!” Lycasus recalled. “But they didn’t run to Clampetia—they went to Asperustum, not far from Croton. We even convened an Assembly and sent people to protest to Asperustum, demanding the return of the escaped slaves. They sent them back right away…”

“If Scylletium and Croton don’t make changes on the slave issue, there will be many more such incidents in the future,” Cerdias said with a sigh. As a man from Scylletium, he didn’t seem worried about it; on the contrary, he seemed almost pleased.

Of course, young Lycasus didn’t think that far. He curiously raised another topic: “By the way, what you said earlier… the words of the Lord Hades… I’ve never heard them before.”

“There are plenty of things you’ve never heard about the gods.” Cerdias’s eyes lit up. “You must know that when the sky god Zeus and his siblings united to overthrow their father Cronus and were about to divide their father’s power, Hades, as the eldest brother, could have chosen the sky or the sea as his divine domain. But he chose the dark and damp Underworld instead, dwelling underground for a long time, creating a fair and impartial dwelling for the souls of weak mortals, ensuring peace in the world above. Isn’t he great?”

“Is… is that so?” Lycasus said doubtfully. “Everyone knows Hades was forced to choose the Underworld.”

“Have you ever thought about who passed down the facts you know?… Without the permission of Zeus, the king of the gods, how could such hidden matters be known to ordinary humans? Zeus rules the Olympian gods; of course he would let the rumors benefit himself. The Lord of the Underworld, Hades, has a reserved nature and a somewhat grim appearance. The Greeks don’t like him, so they all believe that rumor.” Cerdias’s expression grew serious. “But in truth, among the major gods, Hades is the most faithful to his duties and the most content with his lot. Zeus—licentious and willful; Poseidon—violent and ruthless; Ares—wild and bloodthirsty; Hermes—mischievous and playful; Hephaestus—drunken and unruly; Apollo—proud and insidious… Only Hades—have you ever heard of any bad deeds of his?”

After hearing Cerdias’s words, Lycasus felt his mind go blank. He held his forehead and said after a long pause: “He… he violently took Demeter’s daughter Persephone as his wife.”

Cerdias wore an expression that said, “I knew you’d bring that up.” He explained earnestly: “The harsh conditions of the Underworld meant no goddess was willing to go there. Hades had no choice but to take a wife by force.”

---

Author’s Note:

The description of road markers in this chapter is not a modern concept. As early as the early Roman Empire, there was a humanized design for road marker steles, very similar to modern signposts. Roman merchants also sold iron cups to travelers, with detailed road maps of the provinces engraved on them for convenience.

In the previous chapter, Darius and Atossa had no blood relation, but Cyrus’s son Cambyses, to ensure the purity of Cyrus’s noble lineage, indeed married his two sisters Atossa and Roxane. After Persia fell into chaos, Darius seized power with the help of his groom and thus inherited these two sister-queens, making his throne appear more legitimate. The next Persian king, Xerxes, was apparently born to Atossa.