The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 68 Surveying the Land (Part 1)

Chapter 68: Chapter 68 Surveying the Land (Part 1)

"Asiculodox failed because he led his army to attack Laos without being familiar with the terrain and was ambushed in the mountain paths. That’s why it ended in such a disastrous defeat. But if it had been on the plains of Thurii, a direct confrontation against the poorly equipped and loosely organized Lucanian mountain people, how could they possibly stand up to Greek hoplites? Even if we had fewer troops, it wouldn’t have been a problem."

"Phrynis, we can’t afford to drag this war out. If we retreat into the city and let the enemy trample our farmland again, burn our villages, fisheries, and mines, we’ll still have to convene citizen assemblies every month to debate whether to impose wartime taxes just to pay the mercenaries their wages and buy their food."

"The citizens will never agree to that!" another general added, his voice rising. "Phrynis, the citizens elected you as Chief General because they believed in your ability to swiftly turn the tide of war, drive away the Lucanians, and ensure Thurii’s safety. Just like when you took office and immediately sent Bourkos to recruit soldiers and dispatched envoys to Tarentum for reinforcements. The citizens have high expectations of you!"

Bourkos, standing quietly on the side, was taken aback when Polyxis joined the chorus urging Phrynis to act. Feeling anxious, he noticed Kunogorata eyeing him from across the room. As if recalling something, Kunogorata ordered Bourkos to leave the city hall, citing "this is an important military meeting concerning state secrets, and unrelated individuals should excuse themselves."

Standing on the steps of the city hall, Bourkos stared blankly into the distance. Rationally, he believed in Phrynis’s judgment. Compared to the other generals—many of whom lacked war experience due to years of peace—Phrynis, now in his sixties, had fought against Tarentum in his youth, serving as a hoplite captain and later a company commander. His extensive combat experience set him apart. Emotionally, however, Bourkos hoped for a swift victory against the dreaded Lucanians. Like all citizens of Thurii, he longed to see the marauders driven far from their homeland. Besides, the presence of Juleios’s troops gave him confidence.

Torn between these feelings, Bourkos found himself walking toward the port without thinking. After some time, he stopped abruptly. Although the city hall generals had accepted his agreements with Juleios’s mercenaries, frequent contact with Juleios’s troops might draw criticism. Sighing, he turned back toward his home.

Juleios, of course, was unaware of the heated discussions in Thurii’s city hall. Although he found it odd that Bourkos, who had promised to report back to him after briefing the generals, had not appeared, he was too focused on building the camp to dwell on it.

Over the past few days, with the concerted effort of all his soldiers, the Thurii camp was beginning to take shape. During this time, Bourkos sent four horses through an aide, explaining they were for Juleios’s use.

Juleios had noticed Thurii’s leadership subtly distancing themselves from him and his troops, but he wasn’t bothered. After all, during their journey along the Ionian coast, many Greek city-states had treated mercenaries in a similarly wary manner. Such was the reality of being a mercenary.

He expressed his gratitude to Bourkos through the aide and then left Phelicius in charge of the camp to handle military affairs. Taking Asistes, Ledes, and a trusted slave from Bourkos as their guide, he mounted one of the horses and set off to survey the area around Thurii.

The flat, fertile Sybaris Plain (also called the Thurii Plain by some citizens) was a picturesque sight in April’s springtime, with flourishing greenery and vibrant bird calls.

The group rode at a leisurely pace, enjoying the scenery. They passed stretches of lush farmland and irrigation channels, laboring slaves and farmers, and muddy dirt roads made nearly impassable by frequent spring rains. Here and there, they saw merchant caravans, their slaves struggling to push carts stuck in the mud.

An idea flashed through Juleios’s mind: even among the Greek city-states along the Ionian coast, this was a common sight. The Greeks, renowned for their commercial acumen, seemed to pay little attention to building roads that could facilitate trade. Instead, their efforts focused on maritime commerce and shipbuilding. By contrast, the Romans, who rose to prominence after the Greeks, would create the most advanced and extensive road network of their era in the Mediterranean.

Traveling west along the Crathis River for about 20 miles, the group spotted a large city standing proudly on the northern bank.

"That’s Thurii!" the guide announced. "When the Athenians were choosing a site for the city, they discovered that the confluence of the Crathis and Cosinis Rivers was an ideal location. The river here is wide and calm, perfect for building docks to accommodate many merchant ships."

"Interesting story," Juleios replied perfunctorily, his gaze fixed ahead. The Crathis River was so crowded with boats that it was impossible to see the opposite bank.

"Why not rebuild Sybaris on the old site by the sea? Wouldn’t it be better to construct a port directly on the coast?" Asistes asked, puzzled.

Juleios, already familiar with the reasons from Bourkos, didn’t elaborate. Pointing ahead, he said, "Let’s circle the city."

Thurii, built at the confluence of two rivers, was divided into three sections: the South City, the North City, and the delta protrusion where the two rivers met. The city’s main area was in the North City.

Riding along the moat outside the North City’s walls for about a mile, the group arrived at the Cosinis Riverbank. In their view, Thurii’s walls were constructed from massive rectangular stones, tightly fitted together. The walls were at least 10 meters high, and 20 meters outside the walls lay a 5-meter-wide moat connected to the Crathis River. Judging by its width, the moat was likely quite deep. All of this would make any siege daunting. Adding to the atmosphere were the guards patrolling the walls in groups of three or four, a reminder of the looming threat of war.

The young Asistes even waved playfully at the sentries as they passed.

Following the northern bank of the Cosinis River upstream, they soon came to a floating bridge. Juleios noticed that the delta between the two rivers wasn’t flat but consisted of rolling hills. According to the guide, these uneven hills prevented the spring floods from turning the land between the rivers into swampland.

After traveling another 20 miles, the terrain began to rise, and the soil transitioned from pure earth to a sandy mixture. Fortunately, the riverbanks remained relatively flat.

The group continued for several more miles. At this point, the Cosinis River’s upper reaches turned from flowing west to southwest, and another river rushed in from the west, joining the Cosinis at this spot.

"This is the Tinos River, a tributary of the Cosinis. Thurii citizens aren’t particularly fond of it," the guide remarked.

"Why not?" Asistes asked curiously.

"Because its upper reaches are filled with hot springs," the guide replied, seemingly unrelated to the question.

"Hot springs?!" Juleios’s interest was piqued.

The group quickened their pace but were taken aback upon arrival. The Tinos River had narrowed to just a few meters wide. On its southern bank, several steaming pools dotted the area, but countless small streams trickled out from cracks in the rocky foothills, turning the surrounding land into a swampy mess of rocks and grass.

"In spring, melting snow from the mountains mixes with the hot springs, forming streams that flow into the Tinos River. During rainy seasons, the river floods, spilling over its banks and inundating the southern hot spring swamp and the northern floodplain," the guide explained, pointing ahead. "That area is called the Great River Terrace."

Juleios looked forward and saw that the riverbank ahead appeared as if a massive bite had been taken out of it. The land had collapsed inward, forming a huge, bowl-shaped depression with a floodplain below and gentle slopes rising around it.