CHAPTER 185: CHAPTER 185: THE ARRIVAL OF THE SPARTANS

Cleon’s complaints weighed heavily on the group, his frustration palpable.

"This is fate’s doing," Tolmides sighed, his gaze lingering on the campfire. "Who can we blame for not following Juleios earlier? The man truly seems favored by the gods. In just six months, he has accomplished what most wouldn’t dare dream of. Even joining him now doesn’t feel too late."

Zantiparis, gazing into the star-filled sky, spoke softly, his words tinged with melancholy. "I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired—tired of wandering, tired of fighting endless battles with no purpose. Living a life where today exists but tomorrow remains uncertain... Perhaps settling down here isn’t such a bad idea."

His admission cast a reflective silence over the group, each man lost in his thoughts.

"Enough of this talk," Timasion interjected, his tone firm but tinged with concern. "Right now, we need to focus on bringing in the rest of our companions without causing trouble. If things spiral out of control, we’ll all pay the price."

His warning hung in the air like a storm cloud, unheeded by some yet undeniable in its gravity.

The storm Timasion feared struck early the next morning.

Word reached the group that a brawl had erupted in the market. A band of newly arrived mercenaries, unfamiliar with the laws of the Dionian Alliance, had stolen goods from merchants, triggering a scuffle. The situation escalated when they assaulted a patrol guard. By the time the market patrol deployed its fifty-man squad to subdue them, the chaos had spiraled into a full-blown altercation.

When Timasion arrived, he found the offenders arrested and the market in uproar. The once-bustling stalls were shuttered, and merchants glared at him as though he bore the brunt of their grievances.

Agassias was summoned to mediate. The situation demanded swift action: compensation was paid to the injured merchants, and guarantees were provided to the patrol squad. Still, the offending mercenaries were sentenced to a month of hard labor, a penalty that could not be overturned. It took considerable effort to resolve the matter, leaving Timasion visibly drained.

To prevent further disturbances, he and his companions rented a house near the port. Here, they kept close watch on their men, ensuring no more incidents would tarnish their precarious standing.

But their efforts were not enough.

Conflicts multiplied as more mercenaries arrived, each group bringing its own set of problems. A few mercenaries, accustomed to their transient lives, clashed with citizens over trivial matters. Others, lured by Thurii’s wealth, attempted petty thefts. The elders of the Senate began to voice concerns, some going as far as proposing the expulsion of all mercenaries from the alliance. The motion might have passed were it not for the staunch opposition of Agassias, Antonios, and Capsus. Yet, even their defense could not alleviate the growing tension.

November’s chill descended upon Thurii, and despite the unrest, the alliance pressed forward with its ambitions.

Enanilus’s shipyard was completed with great fanfare, marked by a ceremony attended by Juleios and the Senate. The first three triremes were ordered that same day, signaling the birth of the Dionian fleet. For the alliance, securing maritime dominance was no longer a luxury but a necessity, ensuring the protection of its thriving ports and ever-expanding trade routes.

In early December, the completion of the Thurii Senate building brought an end to the inconvenience of holding important meetings in Amendolara. Meanwhile, the Thurii-Castellon highway and the city’s first arena neared their final stages of construction, further solidifying the alliance’s rapid development.

Amidst these achievements, a small merchant ship sailed into the Gulf of Taranto, its sail adorned with a prominent "∧"—the unmistakable symbol of Sparta.

The sight of the Spartan insignia sent ripples through the harbor. Merchant ships quickly gave way, their captains wary of provoking the renowned warriors of Laconia.

Phoebidas, a Spartan general in his early thirties, stood tall at the helm of the vessel, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling port of Thurii. His companion, Dolobysis, a Perioikoi with a sharp mind for commerce, stood beside him, his demeanor one of quiet observation.

"This is Thurii?" Phoebidas remarked, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and disdain. "The harbor seems lively enough for such an obscure city-state."

Dolobysis nodded thoughtfully. "Lively indeed. The ships here rival Corinth’s docks in number. It seems this alliance has more strength than I anticipated."

Phoebidas said nothing. He had heard little of Thurii before this mission, save for its turbulent history with the Lucanians. The city-state’s apparent prosperity, however, was unexpected.

As they approached the port, a Dionian patrol ship intercepted their vessel.

"I am Phoebidas, envoy of Sparta, here to meet your consul!" the Spartan bellowed, his voice echoing across the water.

The patrol captain saluted but quickly turned his ship to relay the message to the Senate. By the time Phoebidas docked, Juleios had already been informed.

Phoebidas stepped onto the dock with his Spartan warriors at his back. Their disciplined presence drew curious glances from the bustling crowd.

But their first encounter with the Dionian patrol squad was far from welcoming.

"Your soldiers must remain aboard the ship," declared Oliver, the patrol leader. "The laws of the Dionian Alliance prohibit foreign soldiers from entering the city."

"These are Spartan warriors!" Phoebidas retorted, his voice laced with indignation. "They have the right to enter any Greek city-state freely!"

Oliver’s expression remained resolute. "Not here. In the Dionian Alliance, our laws apply to everyone. Either comply, or turn back."

Phoebidas’s temper flared, his hand twitching toward his sword. Before he could act, Dolobysis intervened, urging him to relent. "General, this is not the time for conflict. Let’s proceed as civilians for now."

Reluctantly, Phoebidas acquiesced, his warriors donning civilian attire before entering the city.

As Phoebidas walked through Thurii, he found himself both impressed and irritated.

He had expected ruins—a city struggling to rebuild after Croton’s devastating invasion. Instead, he found bustling streets lined with orderly buildings. Aqueducts stretched across the horizon, feeding public fountains and baths. The air was filled with the hum of commerce, children’s laughter, and the occasional melody of street performers.

"The city is thriving," Dolobysis remarked. "Its recovery is remarkable."

Phoebidas frowned, his irritation growing. This was not the struggling city-state he had envisioned. The Dionian Alliance was far more formidable than he had anticipated.

As they neared the Senate Hall, his thoughts turned to the task at hand. He had come to assert Spartan authority, but in this thriving city, he realized the challenge ahead. Would the Dionians bow to Sparta’s demands, or had this alliance grown too confident in its strength?

When Phoebidas entered the hall, Juleios awaited him with a calm yet commanding presence. The air was thick with unspoken tension as the two men locked eyes, their meeting marking the beginning of a delicate and potentially volatile negotiation.