Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 18: Thurii's Grand Thermal Baths

Stasippus turned to the shopkeeper and asked, “How much would a set of these surgical instruments cost?”

“A set?!” The shopkeeper curled his lip. “You must be a foreign doctor who doesn’t know how things work in Daonia. The instruments a surgeon uses vary depending on the type of surgery he’s performing. Besides, the Daonia School of Medicine keeps sending over new surgical tool designs. With the instruments we have in the shop right now, you could put together at least five or six different kinds of surgical kits.”

“Even if you could buy them—” The shopkeeper sized up the three men, then rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t afford them anyway.”

“We can’t afford them?! Go on, tell us—how much would these cost?” Nicostratus stepped closer, unwilling to back down.

The shopkeeper glanced at him, pointed at the display, and said, “The few items you just picked up alone are worth about thirty minae.”

“Thirty minae?! Those few little things are worth thirty minae?! You’re robbing us!” Lycasus exclaimed in shock.

“Don’t talk nonsense if you don’t understand!” The shopkeeper was clearly a talkative sort, spittle flying as he argued. “Do you have any idea how hard those things are to make? How demanding the requirements are? Let me tell you—the time it takes to forge a little knife like that is enough for us to make thirty bronze shields, and we need the best casters to do it, to produce surgical tools that meet the doctors’ demands. They say it well: ‘The tools for cutting into a person’s body have to be extremely fine; otherwise, you’re not saving lives—you’re taking them!’ So you see, how could the price be low?! And not just any iron workshop can make these. In Thurii, only our Theos Weapons Workshop has the capability!”

His speech left the three men speechless.

“Also, what I just said was the old price. Now they cost forty minae.”

“Why?”

“Because for the time being, our workshop has stopped producing these surgical instruments.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we received a big commission from the Daonia Road and Transport Department. They’re building a stone bridge and need huge iron gratings placed into the river to drain the water, so they can pour stone and stone slurry—actually, Davos cement—to cast the bridge piers inside. So our workshop has to concentrate all our casters and gather all the high-quality iron ore to make those big pieces…”

…

While Nicostratus and his two companions were enthusiastically wandering through the port market, Ephialtes and his wife were riding north in a carriage, arriving at the Hot Spring Swamp on the Telo River, a tributary of the Coseni River.

It was here that Davos had once made his name, annihilating the Lucanian tribal alliance and laying the foundation for the establishment of the Daonia Alliance. The vast river beach, once littered with corpses, now bore a white memorial column twenty meters high and two meters in diameter, carved with scenes of that battle. At the top stood a bronze statue of Davos, shield raised and spear in hand.

This Great River Beach Victory Memorial Column was first called the “Miracle Pillar” by the people, signifying how the Daonian Magistrate had defeated a larger force with a smaller one, creating a miracle against all odds and achieving an astonishing victory. Later, schoolchildren from all the alliance’s cities were often brought here by their teachers to feel the hardships of Daonia’s founding and the greatness of Davos. The citizens affectionately nicknamed it the “Children’s Pillar”—a place where children were educated, with the deeper implication that since this battle, the Daonia Alliance had grown healthily like a newborn child… but that is a story for later.

Not far from the column lay a large, round burial mound, with a tombstone inscribed: “Tomb of the Warriors Who Died in the Great River Beach Battle.” Below it was a dedication by Davos: “The war is past; our blood is now one.”

In front of the tomb stood two bronze statues of men. From their attire, one was clearly a Lucanian and the other a Greek. They smiled, their strong arms clasped in a handshake, while the Greek’s left hand pointed east toward Thurii, twenty li away, in an inviting gesture. The meaning was obvious.

Inside the tomb, there were no bones. The people of Thurii had cremated thousands of Lucanian warriors, reportedly burning them for three days and three nights, then scattering the ashes into the river to feed the fish. Later, when the Daonia Alliance was established, this tomb was built upon Davos’s strong recommendation for political reasons. Every year, people came to pay their respects, mostly Lucanians.

But that was not the main reason this once-desolate area had become lively. Instead, across the Telo River, where Davos’s statue pointed its spear, what had once been a swamp of marshes and ponds, crawling with snakes and insects, had been replaced by a massive building. Dozens of aqueducts built with Davos cement brought hot spring water from the crevices in the mountain rocks into this building, and a large channel carried the used water back into the river. This was the famous Thurii Hot Spring Baths, renowned throughout Magna Graecia.

Greeks did not like to bathe, but after years of health education by doctors like Helpus at the hospital, the Daonians had developed the habit of bathing for cleanliness, and they knew that soaking in hot spring water was even more beneficial. So on the day the baths opened, nearly every man in Thurii came running to the Hot Spring Swamp, eager to try it.

The result was that the baths were overcrowded. Later, the management amended the rules, setting time slots and limiting the number of people allowed in.

After soaking in the hot springs and enjoying all kinds of novel services, the men of Thurii reluctantly returned to the city, spreading word of “how indescribably wonderful it was to bathe in the hot springs.” Some even praised it as “the Elysian Paradise that the Magistrate has built on earth!”

And soon, the public learned that the baths also allowed women to enter.

From then on, the citizens of Thurii flocked to the baths every day, making it an indispensable pleasure of life, while people from other Daonian cities came from time to time to enjoy it as well.

Meanwhile, the people of Thurii regarded the “Hot Spring Baths” as one of the three great entertainments for hosting distinguished guests from afar—the other two being tasting Thurii’s fine cuisine and going to the arena to watch ball games. Thus, the fame of the “Thurii Hot Spring Baths” spread far and wide.

On certain special days in Daonia, the baths were even free for the public, making them even more beloved despite the already cheap ticket price of just one obol. For example, during the Marriage Festival these past few days, the baths were free for all married couples. That was why Ephialtes had brought his wife here.

Today, many couples had come. Everyone lined up orderly, shuffling forward little by little toward the entrance.

Then a commotion arose from the back of the line. Ephialtes turned his head to see what was happening.

“What’s going on?” his wife asked curiously.

“Nothing much. It seems two senators from the Senate have also arrived,” Ephialtes said indifferently. The Senate had nearly a hundred senators. Only the citizens of Thurii could recognize all of them; Daonian citizens from other cities mostly knew only Chief Senator Davos, the senators who had served as chief magistrates of their own cities, and the various elders who held key positions in the Army Corps. That was not surprising—whether in training or in battle, the citizens naturally remembered their commanding officers well.

Finally, they crossed the wooden bridge over the Telo River and stood at the entrance. The attendant glanced at Ephialtes and his wife and asked, “Are you married?”

They nodded.

“Daonian citizens?”

Ephialtes nodded again and said, “We are also a couple participating in this year’s Marriage Festival. Are there any private rooms in the small bath still available?” As he spoke, he extended his left hand, and his wife extended her right; on their ring fingers were iron rings engraved with the emblem of Hera—a peacock. On Davos’s suggestion, the Temple of Hera, overseen by Agnes, not only presided over the festivals but also issued rings blessed by the goddess Hera to newlyweds who participated—of course, charging a small processing fee—to encourage and monitor the stability of their marriages.

“Congratulations!” The attendant confirmed, then turned to look at the wooden wall studded with many pegs. Only one key still hung there. He took it down and placed it in Ephialtes’s hand: “May Hera bless you. This is the last one. The wooden tag has the room number. Once you’re inside, bolt the door and no one will disturb you. Return the key by noon.”

“Good, thank you!” Ephialtes led his wife into the central passage, while the left and right passages led to the men’s and women’s baths respectively.

As time passed, the long line at the entrance was nearly at its end.

The bath attendant saw the two men before him and paused in surprise, then immediately put on a smiling face: “Lord Polyxides! Lord Eanilus!”

“Any private rooms?” Polyxides asked bluntly.

The attendant pointed at the wooden wall, now empty of keys, and said apologetically, “Due to the Marriage Festival, all rooms are full.”

Polyxides curled his lips in dissatisfaction. Not caring that the attendant was an employee of Davos, he said with a hint of sarcasm, “Look at our Magistrate—he really knows how to take care of the Daonian people!”

Eanilus did not respond. He had his slave behind him pay four obols—for himself, Polyxides, and their two personal slaves.

Once they had entered, the attendant made an excuse to go to the latrine, hurried into the back room, and quickly found the bathhouse manager: “Polyxides and Eanilus have come to bathe together!”

Walking a short distance along the left passage, they came to a vast area. In the center was a large pool, with several smaller ones around it, all steaming, mist swirling in the air.

Many men were soaking in the water, enjoying the nourishment of the hot springs. Others lay on wooden benches beside the pools, being scrubbed by their own slaves or receiving massages from slaves specially trained by the bathhouse. A few leaned against long wooden benches along the walls, chatting with each other… They all had one thing in common—they were naked.