The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe
Chapter 76 Juleios’s Camp

Chapter 76: Chapter 76 Juleios’s Camp

"That’s because there’s only a small dock here!" Bourkos exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration. Earlier, he had sensed something unusual about the market’s activity. Now, after walking through it, the truth became clear: this wasn’t just a mercenary supply hub; it had transformed into a bustling marketplace serving merchants and locals alike.

The Crathis River, no matter how wide, couldn’t compare to the vastness of the open sea. Merchant ships arriving at Thurii often faced long waits to dock, and trading in the city’s market incurred taxes. In contrast, the mercenaries’ 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. Freemen, sailors, and fishermen—most of them non-citizens—were willing to travel the extra distance for cheaper goods. Merchants from various city-states were also drawn by the exotic items offered by the mercenaries, 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? Me? You ignorant Greek barbarian! Do you even realize I once served as a royal merchant for the Persian king?!

Forcing himself to remain composed, Marigi moved to the back of the group, his simmering resentment 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 simmering 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 medical skills. Many residents of Thurii suffering from chronic illnesses have seen significant improvements after treatment here. It’s become 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 something 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 meters ahead, Juleios’s camp came into view. Calling it a "camp" hardly seemed fitting—it looked more like a fortress. A trench three meters wide and equally deep surrounded the perimeter. Beyond it stood a three-meter-high earthen wall topped with a two-meter wooden palisade. Sentries patrolled along the palisade, their presence indicating a walkway behind the defensive wall.

Several watchtowers, each about six meters 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 metallic 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 mercenaries 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, medical 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 mercenaries, 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 peacetime, bleed less in war.’"

"Sweat more in peacetime, bleed less in war..." Bourkos repeated quietly. He suddenly realized he was about to meet a leader with far more experience than Thurii’s generals seemed 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 formed 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 met 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 amazement.

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 meet the man behind this extraordinary camp.