Lizalus hadn’t expected to receive this honor, so much so that his usually stoic face had been beaming with a continuous smile throughout the march. As they neared the crowd, he straightened his chest once more, raising the legion’s banner high. The cheers, exclamations, and praise washed over him like a divine elixir, instantly filling him with energy.
Timasion squinted and saw the solemn and majestic bronze statue of Hades holding a bident atop the towering banner. This reminded him of the rumors that "Juleios is a favored of Hades."
Staring at the banner embroidered with the golden words "First Legion" and four golden stars, and listening to Agassias explain its origins, Timasion and the others were montarily spellbound.
Behind the legion’s banner ca another military flag. Beneath the grim-faced statue of Death with outstretched wings, the flag bore golden embroidery that read "Second Cohort, First Company." Although the greatest credit in this campaign should have gone to the Fourth Cohort, considering public sentint,
Juleios awarded the honor of leading the entry to the Second Cohort, First Company. After all, they had also perford ritoriously, especially in guarding the Laos fortress—a feat no one could dispute. As compensation, Juleios awarded the honor of carrying the legion’s banner to the Lucanians.
The soldiers marched with powerful strides, heads held high, as they entered the crowd, basking in the cheers of the people...
The rcenaries watched intently. For the untrained eye, it was just a lively scene, but for the experienced, it revealed much. Zantiparis remarked to Agassias, "Your soldiers are not bad—their morale and spirit are impressive!"
"But still worse than us!" Cleon retorted indignantly.
Agassias rely smiled, not offering a comnt.
At this mont, Tolmides exclaid, "Look at those soldiers—they’re probably not Greeks!"
Agassias focused his gaze: the banner carried by the second group entering the crowd was embroidered with "First Legion, Fourth Cohort."
Since when did the alliance have a Fourth Cohort? With questions in mind, Agassias looked closer at the soldiers’ appearances. Rembering that Neutum, a Lucanian city, had been captured, he began to understand Juleios’s intentions: "Those are Lucanians. If they’ve beco legion soldiers, they must already be alliance citizens."
Foreigners can beco citizens of your alliance?!" Zantiparis exclaid, disbelief etched on his face.
Agassias, though uncertain of the exact policies, replied vaguely, "There are, of course, specific conditions, but yes, the Dionian Alliance is more inclusive than other Greek city-states. For instance, there’s a Persian rchant—Marigi—who once followed Juleios. Not only is he a citizen now, but he’s also a senator and the comrce officer of the Senate."
The rcenaries gasped in unison, their astonishnt rippling through the group. Soone, half-jokingly and half-seriously, quipped, "If even a Persian can beco a senator, then surely we—his comrades-in-arms—deserve that honor as well!"
"Exactly!" others chid in.
Agassias hesitated, unsure how to temper their expectations. But before he could respond, the coachman, Solikos, who had been quietly listening, interjected with a wry laugh. "You foreigners should stop dreaming! Becoming a senator isn’t so casual affair. First, you have to pay your taxes on ti, participate actively in military service, and keep a spotless legal record. Can you honestly claim to et those standards? That Persian rchant, Marigi, revitalized Thurii’s port and market. What have you done for the alliance?"
The rcenaries were montarily silenced.
"So," Solikos continued, "if you truly want to stay in the alliance and thrive here, focus on earning citizenship first. Anything more is just wishful thinking."
"That’s enough, old man! Stop lecturing us!" Torax, one of the younger rcenaries, snapped angrily. His indignation found echoes among his comrades, their voices rising in frustration.
Tension thickened as words escalated. Agassias and Timasion intervened swiftly, calming their group, while Solikos, ever the pragmatist, persuaded his fellow coachn to avoid trouble. After much effort, the situation de-escalated before the city’s patrol squads were alerted.
As the coachn drove off, Solikos muttered to his peers, "If these n linger in Thurii, the patrol squads will have their work cut out for them."
Timasion, watching the coachn disappear, leaned toward Agassias and whispered, "Is it really that difficult to beco a senator?"
Agassias nodded solemnly.
Zantiparis sighed, his regret palpable. "If we’d known what you would achieve, we’d have followed you from Byzantium. Still, what’s done is done. We should aim for citizenship and land now."
Cleon, gruff as ever, muttered, "Better to stay free in Asia Minor than be shackled by so many rules in this remote place."
Agassias said nothing. As the triumph procession unfolded before them, the rcenaries’ emotions were a mixture of envy, curiosity, and resentnt.
The Fourth Cohort passed, their formation rough compared to the earlier ranks, but their sheer physicality and enthusiasm drew cheers from the crowd. These Lucanians, once outsiders, now basked in the alliance’s acceptance. Many waved to the spectators, their faces alight with pride.
After them ca wagons laden with spoils—golden goblets, silver vessels, glittering jewels, and finely crafted statues. The treasures sparkled under the sun, drawing gasps of wonder from the crowd.
Timasion leaned closer to Agassias. "Do you have to hand over all the spoils to the alliance?"
"Most of it goes to the state treasury," Agassias explained. "A portion is distributed to the soldiers, but private hoarding is forbidden."
"That takes all the fun out of fighting," Cleon scoffed. "Why risk your life if there’s no loot to claim?"
Agassias replied earnestly, "Because they’re citizens, Cleon. Defending their land is their duty. And the treasury uses the spoils to care for the injured, support families of the fallen, and maintain equipnt. When we were rcenaries, did we ever receive such benefits?"
Cleon grumbled but had no rebuttal.
The crowd erupted again as the chariots entered the procession. The first, drawn by two pristine white horses, carried a man clad in gleaming armor. His face was stern, his movents deliberate.
"Phelicius!" the rcenaries shouted, stunned.
"Phelicius! Hero of the alliance!" the crowd roared, their cheers rolling like thunder.
Timasion and the others watched as their old comrade, once their subordinate, stood high in glory. Phelicius’ expression softened as he waved, but his gaze never caught the rcenaries watching from afar.
The second chariot carried Drakos, captain of the Second Cohort. Though unfamiliar to the rcenaries, Agassias filled in the details: "He was a rcenary, like us, and has fought alongside Juleios in every campaign."
The third chariot drew gasps.
"Hieronymus!" the rcenaries exclaid.
Once a disgraced leader, Hieronymus now stood tall, a respected figure in the alliance. His stoic deanor only emphasized his transformation. Timasion and the others exchanged uneasy glances, their envy unspoken but felt.
The fourth chariot bore Bagule, the Lucanian captain of the Fourth Cohort. Despite his initial anxiety about being ignored, the crowd welcod him warmly. Bagule’s heart swelled with pride as he thought of the Lucanian citizens watching.
The final chariot carried Epitenes, a familiar face to the rcenaries. Known for his affable nature, Epitenes smiled brightly and waved enthusiastically, drawing cheers and even flirtatious shouts from the crowd.
Timasion and his comrades felt an acute sense of loss. Once leaders commanding thousands, they now stood as spectators, watching those they had dismissed as lesser n bask in glory.
As the procession neared Thurii’s gates, a shower of colorful petals rained down from above. The petals fluttered like confetti, their vibrant hues catching the sunlight and adding a touch of romance to the spectacle.
The rcenaries watched in silence, their hearts heavy with a mix of emotions. For all their pride and strength, they couldn’t deny the allure of the alliance’s unity, order, and promise of a brighter future.
"Perhaps this isn’t just another city-state," Timasion murmured, his gaze fixed on the golden banners swaying in the breeze. "Perhaps this is sothing greater."
Reviews
All reviews (0)