Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 8: Military Training

Then the other four also got out of the cart one after another and walked forward.

For those coming from the south, they had to cross the Crati River, and there were two ways to enter the city of Thurii itself: one was to enter the southern district of Thurii, take a boat from the dock to the main dock on the opposite bank, which was mainly used by Daonian citizens and envoys from other city-states; the other was, like Cerdias, to cross the wooden bridge west of the southern city to reach the delta where the two rivers converged, then cross another wooden bridge to reach the north bank of the Crati River, and finally enter the main city.

The three, Nicostratus, and the others passed the sentry post and stepped onto the wooden bridge. Lycasus, unlike his teacher who feigned restraint, stomped his feet curiously, patted the railing, and from time to time craned his neck to watch the boats passing under the bridge... Suddenly he shouted, "Look quickly, what are they doing?!"

Nicostratus followed his pointing finger. Not far from the bridge, a group of youths were swimming in the river. They weren't playing or splashing about, but had formed several lines, each one frantically swimming from the north bank to the south bank and then back, one after another. The Greeks were a maritime people, and many were good swimmers, but seeing every child wearing leather armor and engaging in such a tense and exciting swim was still relatively uncommon.

"Could it be a competition?" Stasippus said uncertainly.

"They are having military training," interjected a middle-aged man who had been leaning on the railing for a long time, missing his right arm.

Stasippus looked him up and down and asked curiously, "Military training?"

"They are all students of the Thurii School. According to the requirements of the Daonian Education Law, besides learning knowledge, they also have to undergo military training..." the middle-aged man explained.

"Such young children being forced to do such dangerous exercise—this is too cruel! What if they exhaust their strength and drown?! What if they get hit by a boat and injured?!" Nicostratus said disapprovingly.

In fact, there were instructors swimming alongside the students in the river, and several boats were also anchored on the water, ready to rescue at any moment. But the middle-aged man didn't explain further; he simply said calmly, "A fierce enemy won't let someone off just because they're young. Only through strict training can you kill the enemy on the battlefield instead of being killed by them."

Nicostratus was momentarily at a loss for words, so he simply hurried away. The men of Daonia, whether young or middle-aged, spoke with a smell that he found repulsive. No wonder some people called Daonians 'little Spartans'—looking at their practices, they were indeed cruel enough!

The middle-aged man paid no attention to the departure of these foreigners and continued to watch the children training in the river until the instructors called them all to shore. Only then did he unhurriedly cross the bridge and descend to the riverbank.

"Hey, Pariandolos, my brother!" An instructor, upon seeing him, warmly embraced him. Both had been soldiers in the same company in Amyntas' battalion of the First Army Corps, and their comradeship was deep: "Your child performed outstandingly as always; today he again got first place in his group in the armed swimming training!" The instructor praised without stint.

"I saw it all from the bridge."

"I say, Pariandolos, you've been so concerned about your child's military training performance lately—are you preparing to have him take your place when he comes of age and become a Daonian Army Corps soldier?" the instructor said jokingly.

To his surprise, Pariandolos nodded seriously: "I want him to join the First Army Corps."

The instructor was taken aback, then persuaded: "My brother, although Patroclus performs excellently, we haven't fought in several years now. The number of reserves in the Army Corps has exceeded ten thousand. It's not that easy to get into the First Army Corps. Besides, he's not yet eighteen. Even when he reaches the age for military service, the officers won't be in such a hurry to send a new recruit like him to the battlefield. It's better to let him first train himself in the reserves to become a qualified Army Corps soldier."

Pariandolos thought it over and admitted that the instructor's reasoning was sound. But he still asked uneasily, "I don't know the current situation of the Army Corps. In your opinion, if Patroclus enters the reserves, how long will it take for him to get into a regular Army Corps? Especially the First Army Corps?"

The instructor smiled: "You really should socialize more with the old brothers from the First Army Corps, especially our old battalion commander Amyntas—he is the most nostalgic. You know? He was just appointed this year as the commander of the Second Army Corps. For your son to join the Second Army Corps would be as simple as a single word from him. Even if you insist on having Patroclus join the First Army Corps, with Amyntas' friendship with Antonios, the commander of the First Army Corps, it's just a matter of a single word from him."

Pariandolos silently listened to his comrade's advice. Indeed, since he was injured, he had interacted much less with his comrades and officers. Now, for the sake of his child, he ought to make some changes.

"By the way, haven't you been studying at the school lately, preparing to take the Thurii examination to become a village chief? How is your study going?" the instructor suddenly remembered and asked curiously.

Pariandolos smiled bitterly: "I was illiterate before. Now I'm older and my memory is poor. Just memorizing those letters is already a headache for me..."

"Then you need to work harder. I'm still waiting for you to enter the Senate one day and look after us old comrades!" the instructor said jokingly.

Pariandolos rarely showed a smile.

"Father!" Patroclus, who had already changed his clothes, came over.

"School is already over?"

Patroclus nodded. At nearly seventeen, he was taller than Pariandolos. Though not as strong as the instructor, he was well-proportioned and solid. For students like him about to come of age, the afternoon classes at school were no longer general sports competitions and military training, but more rigorous exercises close to actual combat, to prepare for service in the Army Corps.

"Pariandolos, don't forget what I told you," the instructor called out loudly as the father and son walked away.

Pariandolos waved gratefully.

"Father, what did you talk about with the instructor?" Patroclus asked curiously.

"About you joining the First Army Corps..." Pariandolos told his son truthfully.

Patroclus let out a long whistle: "I heard from Stiphlos that new recruits like me simply can't enter the First Army Corps at the start. But I believe, no matter which Army Corps I join, I will be the one to bear the standard in a triumph!"

Pariandolos patted his child's shoulder with satisfaction. Although Patroclus had a mischievous nature, he was an extremely confident child.

Father and son walked out of the school, and Patroclus suddenly stopped, shouted loudly, "Hey, Cynthia!"

Cynthia, who was going home with her classmates, turned back and smiled at him.

Patroclus winked: "Your hairband is loose."

Cynthia reached up to touch her hair, realized she had been tricked, spat immediately, and scolded, "Annoying Palo!"

Patroclus laughed heartily, stared with wide eyes as Cynthia walked away, then finally withdrew his gaze.

Pariandolos, as a man of experience, could not fail to understand his son's feelings. But most of the people in Thurii knew that girl's identity—she was the adopted daughter of Magistrate Davos—while he himself was merely an ordinary Daonian citizen who had only recently obtained citizenship. The gap in status between them was vast. However, his son was stubborn and had had his own ideas since childhood, so he didn't want to say anything. He only hoped that this was just a childish infatuation, and that everything would change when he grew up.

...

Cynthia said goodbye to her female friends and entered her home.

A household slave quickly came over to take her schoolbag, and she immediately bowed to him in thanks.

By now, Davos' residence had expanded further, divided into front, middle, and rear courtyards. The front courtyard housed the common slaves and also the stable; the middle courtyard was where Davos conducted official business and held meetings, and also had bedrooms for the slave steward and office staff; the rear courtyard was the residence of Davos and his family.

Cynthia walked straight ahead, and wherever she went, the slaves bowed and greeted her, and Cynthia returned each greeting. This was Davos' household rule. Although Cynthia did not quite understand it, she had already developed the habit.

After entering the middle courtyard, she also met Aristelas briefly. Cynthia was somewhat afraid of this attendant of her father; she always felt that his eyes, with more white than black, seemed to possess some magic that could see through people's hearts. Comparatively, among Davos' attendants, she preferred the former scribe Aristocrates. Unfortunately, he had already become a Daonian citizen and, at Davos' suggestion, had passed the alliance's examination and become a judge in the Thurii court.

Cynthia pushed open the door to the rear courtyard and heard a familiar voice: "Oh, Cynthia's back!"

Cheiristoya stood by the garden, smiling as she looked at her, while Asuna was bending over pulling weeds from the flowers.

"Mother!" Cynthia cried out softly, ran forward, and gave Cheiristoya a hug. After several years of living together, this sexy, elegant, and kind woman had replaced the fading image of her mother in her heart.

"Gently! You reckless little thing, don't frighten your little sister!" Cheiristoya subconsciously covered her slightly protruding belly, tapped Cynthia lightly on the forehead in mock reproach.

"Little sister, I apologize for disturbing your sleep!" Cynthia leaned close to Cheiristoya's belly and said playfully.

Then she suddenly shouted in surprise, "She kicked me! Mother, little sister kicked me!"

"Yes, I felt it too!" Cheiristoya's face was also full of joy. This was her second pregnancy; how could she know if it was a boy or a girl? But after having little Klo, she had set her heart on wanting a daughter, so she told everyone she was carrying a girl. This was the first time she felt the baby move.