"That’s because there’s only a small dock here!" Bourkos exclaid, his voice tinged with frustration. Earlier, he had sensed sothing unusual about the market’s activity. Now, after walking through it, the truth beca clear: this wasn’t just a rcenary supply hub; it had transford into a bustling marketplace serving rchants and locals alike.
The Crathis River, no matter how wide, couldn’t compare to the vastness of the open sea. rchant ships arriving at Thurii often faced long waits to dock, and trading in the city’s market incurred taxes. In contrast, the rcenaries’ market offered a convenient alternative. Ships could unload directly at the makeshift coastal dock, and entry to the market cost only one obol, with no additional taxes.
For buyers, the market’s proximity to Thurii made it an easy destination. Freen, sailors, and fishern—most of them non-citizens—were willing to travel the extra distance for cheaper goods. rchants from various city-states were also drawn by the exotic items offered by the rcenaries, further bolstering the market’s appeal.
As Bourkos looked at Marigi, who stood silently with his head bowed, he held back further scolding. "Fine," he said with a sigh. "I’ll discuss this with Juleios. You’re not in a position to decide anything—you’re just a Persian slave."
Marigi flinched, his body trembling with suppressed anger. He clenched his fists, silently cursing: Slave? ? You ignorant Greek barbarian! Do you even realize I once served as a royal rchant for the Persian king?!
Forcing himself to remain composed, Marigi moved to the back of the group, his simring resentnt hidden behind a mask of indifference.
As they approached the market’s western gate, Bourkos noticed an enclosed area partitioned by a low earthen wall. Inside was a large wooden shed, quieter than the surrounding stalls, though a long line of people waited at its entrance.
"What’s this?" Bourkos asked, his curiosity piqued.
Despite his simring frustrations, Marigi replied in a neutral tone, "That’s our clinic. The doctors in the camp, having trained extensively under Leader Juleios, have developed exceptional dical skills. Many residents of Thurii suffering from chronic illnesses have seen significant improvents after treatnt here. It’s beco so popular that even at dusk, patients often refuse to leave."
"Are they really that skilled?" Bourkos asked, surprised.
Moras, standing beside him, whispered, "Master, perhaps the old lady’s illness could be treated here. They might truly have a solution."
Bourkos nodded thoughtfully, then recalled sothing else. "You said these doctors learned from Juleios? Does Juleios himself know how to treat illnesses?"
"Of course!" Marigi said, his voice tinged with pride. "The leader is blessed by Hades and has unparalleled knowledge of the diseases that bring death."
Bourkos raised an eyebrow but said nothing further.
After leaving the market, the group continued westward. A few hundred ters ahead, Juleios’s camp ca into view. Calling it a "camp" hardly seed fitting—it looked more like a fortress. A trench three ters wide and equally deep surrounded the periter. Beyond it stood a three-ter-high earthen wall topped with a two-ter wooden palisade. Sentries patrolled along the palisade, their presence indicating a walkway behind the defensive wall.
Several watchtowers, each about six ters tall, overlooked the camp, providing a clear view of the trench and any potential blind spots. The wooden gate was reinforced and flanked by another watchtower-like structure, giving it a formidable appearance.
As Bourkos and Moras approached along the straight path leading to the gate, they noticed large wooden signs posted at regular intervals. Each bore a stark warning: "Beware of traps. Stay on the main road!"
Glancing at the tall grass on either side, Moras caught glimpses of faint tallic glints. He shuddered, imagining the deadly traps hidden within. "Master," he said softly, "these defenses seem more intricate than Thurii’s own fortifications."
Bourkos remained silent, his unease growing. The thought weighed heavily on his mind: The rcenaries have built themselves a fortress—what will Croton think if they see this?
The guards at the gate, upon hearing Bourkos’s purpose, sent word inside. Soon, Asistes arrived to escort them.
Inside, the camp was immaculate. The ground was cleared of weeds and debris, leaving a flat, well-maintained surface. Along the inner wall, a wooden walkway had indeed been constructed, complete with chest-high cover for the sentries. Wide wooden ladders connected the ground to the walkway at intervals.
The tents were arranged in orderly rows, with wide pathways separating them. These pathways all converged toward the camp’s center, where a circular wooden palisade enclosed a secure area.
Noticing Bourkos’s puzzled expression, Asistes explained, "That’s the heart of the camp. It houses the baggage, dical units, and quarters for the leader and officers. If the outer defenses are breached, we retreat there and continue to hold our position."
"This is the most well-thought-out military camp I’ve ever seen!" Despite his reservations about the rcenaries, Bourkos couldn’t hide his admiration.
Asistes grinned with pride. "Leader Juleios always says that this is just a basic design. More elaborate camps are possible, but this suffices for now. He often reminds us: ’There’s no such thing as an army that only wins and never retreats. A strong camp can protect soldiers during defeat, reduce casualties, and restore morale. No matter how tiring the work, build it with care. Sweat more in peaceti, bleed less in war.’"
"Sweat more in peaceti, bleed less in war..." Bourkos repeated quietly. He suddenly realized he was about to et a leader with far more experience than Thurii’s generals seed to appreciate. Their decision to make plans without consulting Juleios now felt like a potential misstep.
From a distance, the sound of cheering and shouting reached their ears. Intrigued, Moras asked, "Why are there so few soldiers in the camp?"
"They’re behind the camp," Asistes explained, "participating in a ’tug-of-war’ contest."
"Tug-of-war?" Bourkos repeated, unfamiliar with the term.
Asistes led them to a large open field behind the central palisade. Hundreds of soldiers ford tight circles, cheering and shouting as teams competed in a fierce contest. The atmosphere was electric, more akin to a festival than a military exercise.
Within one circle, two teams of soldiers gripped a massive rope, their muscles straining as they fought to pull the red marker past their designated line. The crowd erupted in cheers as one team finally triumphed, their victory t with jubilant cries and enthusiastic pats on the back.
Even Bourkos couldn’t help but feel energized by the scene. "This is remarkable!" he said, his voice tinged with amazent.
Noticing their interest, Asistes said, "This way—Juleios is waiting for you." Though reluctant to leave the spectacle behind, Bourkos and Moras followed, eager to et the man behind this extraordinary camp.
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