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After crossing the Saraceno River, Juleios imdiately noted a change in the terrain. The gentle rise of the land and the mountain ridges running parallel to the coast narrowed the strip of flatlands, creating a natural corridor that both restricted and safeguarded their advance. While the constricted landscape offered strategic advantages, Juleios kept his wits about him. He dispatched Asistes and Ledes to command the scouts patrolling the left flank, ensuring no Lucanians could outflank them or cut off their retreat.

As they moved forward, the coastline beca strikingly different. Where sandy beaches might have been expected, steep cliffs and jagged rocks rose abruptly from the sea. The waves crashed relentlessly against the rugged shoreline, sending bursts of white spray into the air and filling the area with the rhythmic thunder of water pounding stone.

"It seems unlikely that Andolara can have a port," Juleios muttered, disappointnt flickering briefly across his face.

Just then, the guide, riding slightly behind, suddenly exclaid, "Look over there! That’s Andolara!"

Juleios followed the guide’s outstretched hand and spotted the distant city, partially veiled by the lingering morning mist. From afar, Andolara appeared to be perched precariously atop a steep hill overlooking the Gulf of Taranto. The morning sun reflected faintly off its stone walls, lending the settlent an almost ethereal glow.

With a sharp nudge to his horse’s flanks, Juleios surged ahead, his curiosity piqued. The soldiers struggled to keep pace with their leader, who now seed eager to take a closer look at the fabled city.

The view sharpened as they drew closer. Unlike the sprawling, flat cityscapes typical of Greek settlents, Andolara clung tightly to its mountainous perch. Rising steeply from the surrounding terrain, the city seed like a natural extension of the mountain itself. Its rugged position provided a commanding view of the narrow coastal plain below and the vast expanse of the Gulf of Taranto.

The guide’s voice, tinged with unease, broke Juleios’s concentration. "Leader Juleios, we’re getting too close. It’s dangerous!"

Ignoring the warning, Juleios urged his horse forward until the group reached the banks of another river. This one was narrower, with crystal-clear water flowing over a rocky bed. Crossing it would pose little difficulty.

"This is the Sisno River," the guide said. "Not far from here is another river, the Brano. Andolara sits between these two rivers."

Juleios stood at the riverbank, his gaze fixed on the land ahead. He took in the gentle rise of the terrain, the flowing rivers, and the rugged beauty of the mountains in the distance. "This land is incredibly fertile," he thought to himself. "The Apennine Peninsula is a land of abundance. With water and fertile soil like this, the Greeks of Greater Greece have every advantage over their mainland kin."

Yet the narrow coastal plain and steep hills also made expansion difficult. He noted that while Andolara’s location made it nearly impregnable during warti, its lack of flat, arable land would make it challenging to support a large population.

Juleios turned to the guide. "How did the Lucanians manage to capture Andolara?"

The guide hesitated before replying, "I’m not entirely sure. From what I’ve heard, the Lucanians attacked suddenly. Andolara’s citizens sent word to Thurii for help, but at the ti, Thurii was still recovering from its own defeat. No reinforcents arrived, and the city was left to fend for itself. Few survivors managed to escape, and the fate of the rest remains unknown."

At that mont, Asistes shouted, "Leader, look! Soone is coming out of the city!"

Juleios squinted in the direction Asistes indicated. On the slopes of Andolara, a group of figures was cautiously descending. From their movents and the equipnt they carried, it was clear they were not an organized force but rather a loose band of scouts or ssengers. Juleios motioned for his soldiers to halt, observing the group’s approach with a calm yet calculating gaze.

Inside Andolara, Vespa, the Lucanian leader, paced restlessly. His people had occupied the city for nearly a year, but their position was far from secure. Vespa had received an urgent ssage from Gruntum, demanding that he and his warriors join the Lucanian tribal alliance for an impending attack on Thurii.

Vespa’s tribe, originally from the upper reaches of the Agri River, had been forced to flee their holand after Gruntum’s aggressive expansion. Desperation had driven Vespa to lead his people on a daring raid to seize Andolara, where they found temporary refuge. However, the city’s isolated position and the constant threat of Greek retaliation left Vespa in a precarious situation. Now, with Gruntum demanding reinforcents, he faced an impossible choice: abandon Andolara to join the alliance or risk the wrath of the Lucanian leaders by defying their orders.

Back at the Sisno River, Juleios observed the approaching Lucanians carefully. Their movents were hesitant, and their equipnt appeared mismatched and worn. It was clear they were not professional soldiers but rather a makeshift force of fighters.

Asistes turned to Juleios. "Leader, should we engage them?"

Juleios shook his head. "Not yet. Let them co closer. I want to see how they react to our presence."

The Lucanians stopped at the riverbank, spotting Juleios’s group for the first ti. Their hesitation was palpable. They huddled together, speaking in low voices, before one of them stepped forward and shouted sothing in an unfamiliar language.

Turning to the guide, Juleios asked, "Do you understand what they’re saying?"

The guide nodded nervously. "He’s asking who we are and what we’re doing here."

Juleios’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Tell them we’re ssengers from Thurii, here to discuss terms."

The guide hesitated but obeyed, shouting Juleios’s ssage across the river. The Lucanians exchanged uncertain glances before their leader stepped forward cautiously. He carried a spear, its shaft splintered and worn—a stark contrast to the well-crafted weapons Juleios’s n carried.

"What’s the plan, Leader?" Asistes whispered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Juleios kept his eyes on the Lucanian leader. "We’ll talk first. Gather as much information as possible. But stay ready. If they try anything, we respond imdiately."

The tension was palpable as the two groups faced each other across the Sisno River. The air seed to hold its breath, the soft babbling of the water the only sound in the charged silence.

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