The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 50 Negotiation

Chapter 50: Chapter 50 Negotiation

"Governor, are you really letting the Greeks go?" a lieutenant asked, unable to conceal his frustration.

"Let them go?!" Tissaphernes shot him a glare. "This is the King’s order! I’ve already carried out his will by successfully driving the Greek barbarians into the Tukian Mountains. Do you think their troubles are over?"

Tissaphernes pointed toward the vast expanse of mountains ahead, speaking with venom in his voice: "The steep, narrow mountain paths, forests teeming with snakes and insects, and the savage Tukian tribes will sap their courage. Even if they somehow make it through Tukia, Orontes’ army awaits them on the other side. How many of these Greek barbarians will make it back to Greece?"

He let out a cold laugh. "We need not waste any more time or energy here. There are more pressing matters in Asia Minor. Withdraw the troops! Let’s go!" he barked, turning his horse around. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Ariaeus’ stoic face and hesitated briefly. Subconsciously, he glanced back at the rolling mountains.

Capturing the Greek mercenary leaders would have been a monumental achievement. Yet, due to his overreach, which resulted in the deaths of Mithridates and Artauzas and the loss of over ten thousand soldiers, his success had been tarnished. Now, he could only hope the Greeks would perish in the mountains, satisfying his desire for vengeance.

But could that truly happen?

The next day, the mercenaries reached the edge of the Tukian Mountains and set up camp. The success of their next move depended on Marigi’s negotiations with the Tukian tribes.

Juleios and the other leaders escorted Marigi to the mountain pass. Accompanying them was Xilos, leading a group of soldiers and several pack wagons loaded with armor, shields, spears stripped from fallen Persian soldiers—equipment that the Tukians lacked. Among the entourage were also a dozen Tukian slaves, initially captured by Juleios from Persian villages.

"Marigi, it’s all up to you now!" Juleios gave him a firm embrace, whispering in his ear, "If things go south, get out as quickly as you can. Xilos will help you escape. If negotiations fail, we can always force our way through. Your safety is the priority."

Marigi paused, glancing at the other leaders behind Juleios. Then he loudly proclaimed, "Don’t worry. With these weapons and those Tukians, we’re already halfway to success! I’ve traded with this tribe’s leader, Kamorlos, many times before. I know him well, and our proposal will intrigue him greatly!"

"Let’s hope so," Timasion interjected gruffly, stepping forward. "But remember, you only have one day. Don’t waste time."

Marigi glanced at Timasion but said nothing more. Juleios ignored Timasion’s attitude and turned to give Xilos a stronger embrace. Xilos had insisted on accompanying Marigi despite repeated refusals. Juleios understood now that Xilos was the right choice—a trusted aide who would ensure Marigi’s confidence and safety.

"Come back safely, brother," Juleios said.

Xilos stepped back and solemnly saluted. Juleios watched them disappear into the forest until the dense trees completely obscured their figures.

"It’s strange," Cleanor remarked with a hint of irony. "We were driven here by the Persians, and now we’re relying on a Persian to get us out of danger."

"Don’t overthink it, Cleanor," Zantiparis replied calmly. "We’re all hoping this Persian succeeds, aren’t we?"

"Perhaps it’s divine will," Xenophon mused, his eyes filled with hope. "The Divins may delight in such curious twists of fate. All we can do now is wait."

"And prepare for battle," Clearchus reminded everyone before heading back to the camp.

That day, the mercenary leaders ordered all soldiers to remain within the camp to avoid provoking conflicts with the Tukians that might jeopardize their plans. They also heightened defenses against possible attacks from the Tukians or Persians.

Nothing significant happened, though. Occasionally, a few Tukian tribesmen, dressed in fur vests and painted with red markings, wandered near the camp with short axes and bows. The soldiers watched them curiously, making comments amongst themselves.

While the soldiers seemed relaxed, the leaders were tense, particularly Juleios, who barely slept as he worried about whether the Tukians would accept their proposal.

Early the next morning, Asistes burst into Juleios’ tent and shook him awake. "Marigi’s back!"

Juleios jolted upright, his fatigue gone in an instant.

"Leader, Kamorlos, the Tukian tribal chief, has accepted my proposal and is willing to form an alliance with us!" Marigi’s excited voice rang out behind Asistes.

"That’s fantastic!" Juleios leapt up, gripping Marigi’s shoulders. "You’ve saved the entire mercenary force. Every Greek soldier owes you their gratitude!"

Marigi smiled faintly, but his expression soon turned conflicted. "Xilos and the others haven’t returned. Kamorlos insisted on hosting them as his guests."

Juleios frowned, sensing something amiss. "Hostages?" he asked, his voice low.

Marigi quickly clarified, "Yes, for safety. Kamorlos wants to personally meet with the leaders to finalize the alliance."

Juleios’ expression softened slightly. He pressed, "When? Where?"

"Initially, he wanted you to come to their mountain stronghold, but I refused. I argued extensively and was even threatened with a knife several times. Finally, after much back and forth, we agreed to meet at the foot of the forested mountain ahead, this afternoon," Marigi explained, emphasizing the difficulties he had faced.

"This afternoon... at the mountain’s base..." Juleios murmured, then smiled. "It seems Kamorlos is eager to form this alliance."

"Indeed, Leader!" Marigi replied proudly.

"Then let’s not delay! Come with me to inform Clearchus and the others!" Juleios said, striding out of the tent.

That afternoon, Clearchus, Cleanor, and Juleios, led by Marigi, brought fifty Spartan warriors to the mountain base. To avoid a repeat of the earlier disaster where mercenary leaders were captured en masse, the rest of the mercenary army remained on guard a mile away, positioned at the mountain pass.

"There it is," Marigi said, pointing ahead. On a grassy patch stood a tree stump larger than a Greek shield, its surface polished smooth and standing waist-high. Around it were several wooden stools, and a small winding path extended upward into the mountain forest.

"This Tukian chief has quite a sense of occasion," Juleios remarked. As the proposal’s initiator, he needed to exude confidence in the plan. He was the first to approach, brushing aside the dirt and leaves on a stool before sitting down.

Clearchus followed suit, sitting down calmly.

Cleanor surveyed the area cautiously before taking a seat.

Marigi stood by Juleios’ side.

It was late autumn. While the weather had been mild during their march along the Tigris River, it had turned colder in the Tukian Mountains. Grass was beginning to wither, and fallen leaves formed a thick layer on the ground as the mountain wind blew.

Clearchus looked up at the increasingly bare branches and said worriedly, "We must cross these mountains quickly. Once winter sets in, it’ll get even colder, and the soldiers don’t have thick clothing to keep warm."

Clearchus’ comment reminded Juleios of an issue he hadn’t yet considered.

As Clearchus and the others began discussing how to handle the approaching winter, the Tukians arrived—several dozen robust men accompanied by an elderly man dressed in peculiar attire.