Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 73: Dionysius's Anger and Phoebidas's Hatred

“Sobecus, what’s happened?” Philistos asked, seeing his serious expression.

“Sir.” Sobecus, already over fifty, was still quick and loud-voiced, delivering a brisk military salute. “My scout cavalry reports that about five hundred cavalry have come from the south and are approaching the camp.”

“Syracusans?” Philistos asked in a low voice.

“I think so… Those horsemen have no armor, and they’re skilled at throwing javelins, completely different from Greek cavalry we’ve seen before,” Sobecus replied earnestly.

“Then what are you waiting for! Send out your cavalry at once and drive those Syracusans away! Don’t let them interfere with our men building the camp,” Drakos immediately said.

Sobecus was a bit embarrassed and lowered his voice. “Our cavalry may not be a match for them… According to the scouts’ report, their horse-handling is superb, and their javelin throwing is quite accurate. Our ten riders were chased by them. At a distance of fifty meters, they closed in, threw a volley of javelins, and we lost… five of our brothers…”

“Syracusan cavalry is that formidable?!” Epithenis was somewhat surprised. He knew the strength of the Daonian Cavalry Corps. With regular training in riding, combat, and tactical execution, he felt they were far superior to the cavalry of most Greek city-states.

“They might be hired cavalry. When Syracuse fought Carthage, it’s said they once employed Celtic and Numidian cavalry—both races raised on horseback from childhood. It’s natural their horsemanship is better than ours… Lord Davos specifically warned me about this before I left,” Philistos said gravely.

“Then let our Fifth Army Corps’ light infantry battalion go out together with Sobecus’s cavalry and drive those horsemen away!” Drakos proposed without hesitation.

Philistos nodded in agreement.

…

Dionysius led his men forward, and as they neared the city of Caulonia, they saw a spectacular sight a few hundred meters away: thousands of men were digging ditches, carrying earth, building earth ramparts, and erecting wooden palisades and watchtowers on a vast, flat expanse of land. Everyone was busy, yet all was orderly. And this bustling construction site was not the only one—it extended east and west, threatening to block the entire coastal passage along that side of the mountain range.

Dionysius, Phoebidas, Phasipessus, and Astagoras all fell silent at the sight.

After a moment, Dionysius pointed at the Daonian camp under construction ahead and said reproachfully to Phasipessus and Astagoras, “Look at them. Now look at the army you command!”

Phasipessus and Astagoras wore expressions of shame. They understood Dionysius’s meaning: both forces had arrived in haste, but the Daonians, ignoring fatigue, were diligently building their camp, while the Syracusan camp wasn’t even worthy of the name—chaotic and disorderly, with soldiers sleeping soundly in haphazardly pitched tents, completely at ease…

“Sir, the Daonians are fortifying themselves because they fear our attack. No one dares to attack our army, so—” Astagoras tried to defend himself, but Dionysius cut him off sharply. “So the troops under your command can sleep soundly and wait for the people of Magna Graecia to surrender!”

Dionysius’s anger stemmed from the fact that in recent years, while he had learned from the Daonian army’s strengths through intelligence reports, the problems that had emerged in Syracuse’s war with Carthage had also driven him to reform the Syracusan army. He had clearly separated heavy infantry, light infantry, cavalry, siege troops, and the navy, organizing them for coordinated operations under unified, more effective command. To ensure his generals and soldiers could master new tactics, he had also increased the frequency of citizen military training—emulating the Daonians—and established stricter military regulations to guarantee implementation. After these reforms, Syracuse had consistently held the upper hand in the Second War with Carthage. But the scene before him revealed the gap in morale and discipline between his own troops and the Daonian soldiers. His outburst came from jealousy and anxiety; Astagoras was merely an outlet for his rage.

It was indeed somewhat unfair to Astagoras. Just as he was about to speak again in his defense, Phasipessus, another important Syracusan general, tugged at his clothes and said respectfully, “Rest assured, sir. When we return, we will assemble the troops and have them rebuild the camp.”

Only then did Dionysius’s expression soften slightly.

Just then, Achilita, the leader of the Numidian mercenaries, stepped forward as if to claim merit. “Sir, the enemy is now busy building their camp. This is a good chance for a surprise attack. Let me take my men and charge them.”

Before Dionysius could answer, Phoebidas, who had been closely observing the Daonian camp, said, “Don’t charge. Daonian troops are coming.”

From several gaps left in the Daonian camp under construction, cavalry and infantry units poured out and rapidly formed up in front of the camp. Cavalry on both wings, light infantry in the center, and then they advanced without hesitation toward Dionysius and his men.

“It won’t matter how many Daonians come. Sir, let me lead my men out. I’ll have my warriors circle to their flanks, hit their cavalry, break their formation, then take advantage of the chaos to charge their light infantry in the center. Let them taste the might of Numidian cavalry!”

“We should go back!” Phoebidas suddenly said, a note of urgency in his voice.

Dionysius glanced at him in surprise. Since leaving Syracuse, this was the first time he had seen the cold, blunt Spartan so unsettled. But as the commander of a great army, he had more important matters to attend to. There was no need to get tangled up with a small enemy detachment now. So he heeded Phoebidas’s advice and ordered a withdrawal.

Though unruly, Achilita held his unpredictable employer in awe. Helplessly, he called back his eager Numidian horsemen and fell in behind Dionysius.

When Philistos learned the enemy had withdrawn, he said sternly to the two legion commanders, “You’ve both seen it. Syracuse’s main army will attack soon. We must finish the camp as quickly as possible!”

This time, Epithenis had no objection.

On the road back to Locri, Dionysius asked, “Phoebidas, now that the Daonians are building a camp at Caulonia, clearly trying to block our advance north, what do you think we should do next?”

“We absolutely cannot let the Daonians fortify a strong camp here, using the narrow terrain to negate our numerical advantage and waste our time! We must rapidly invade the territories of Trina and Scylletium. The ground there is broad, suited for our army’s operations, and we can force them into a pitched battle. Then we defeat them and take their cities! That way, the Daonians lose their allies, and their main force is still trapped at Potentia. This is our golden chance to destroy them!” In his final words, Phoebidas’s expression turned almost savage.

Dionysius looked at him curiously. He didn’t understand why Phoebidas had suddenly developed such a strong animosity toward the Daonians, but it suited his own wishes.

So, after a long deliberation, he made up his mind. He called over his leading generals and issued orders in a low voice: “Astagoras, Phasipessus, when you return, immediately reorganize the army. Tomorrow! I want an attack on Caulonia and Trina tomorrow!”

“Yes, sir!”

Phoebidas listened to the exchange, pleased to see Dionysius following his advice. But in his mind, he kept replaying what he had just seen: both the Daonian cavalry and light infantry were uniformly dressed in black. He could even vaguely make out the same emblem painted on their cavalry’s leather shields. Though he hadn’t seen the Daonian heavy infantry, if even the light infantry and cavalry were so uniform, the heavy infantry’s equipment must be equally standardized.

Dionysius had already obtained detailed intelligence on the Daonian army, so he wasn’t overly surprised. But to the Spartan Phoebidas, the uniform Daonian attire and the oppressive black color revealed something far deeper.

When citizens of Athens, Corinth, Thebes, and other city-states flaunted their rich artistic tastes and entertainments—even painting their dusty round shields, used only once every six months, with elaborate patterns to show off their individuality and refinement—the Spartan warriors secretly laughed. Ever since the Spartan regent Lycurgus implemented his reforms a hundred years ago, Spartans had been trained under the whip and rod from childhood. Through a century of warfare, they had long grasped the essence of war: disregard all means, pursue only final victory!

The Spartans claimed descent from Heracles, but in truth, they worshipped the wolf more. Their armies fought like wolf packs, emphasizing discipline, unity, and psychological intimidation. Even though each man was a fierce fighter, they absolutely forbade individual combat.

So when other city-state armies fought Sparta, what they saw were rows of dazzling bronze walls (because Spartan warriors polished their shields and spears until they gleamed before battle), blood-red cloaks, and the uniform “∧” symbol on their round shields.