CHAPTER 189: CHAPTER 189: THE FUNERAL OF THE SPARTAN KING

The three exchanged glances.

Xanthipparis quickly tried to comfort him, saying,"Agasias, you didn’t do anything wrong! We’re all grateful that you rescued us from that deadly battlefield in Asia Minor! As long as we patiently stay in the League, I believe we’ll eventually gain citizenship and land. Right now, it’s just that we’re not used to things yet. As for Sparta, believe me and Timasone—at least for the next three or four years, they won’t take any hostile actions against the League!"

The Greeks liked to dilute their wine with water, thinking this would prevent drunkenness and foolish acts. But tonight, Agasias didn’t drink beer at all—only undiluted wine—and by the end was thoroughly drunk.

Timasone and the others struggled to help him home.

When they came back out, the three sighed in unison.

Cleianus curled his lip and said,"So, he regrets bringing us to Magna Graecia? Is he planning not to help us anymore?!"

"Agasias isn’t that kind of person!" Xanthipparis shook his head. "I think he’s just been under too much pressure lately and wanted to drink to relax. But... we really do need to rein in those guys who won’t listen to advice!"

The two argued for a while, then turned to see Timasone walking slowly with his head down, deep in thought.

"Timasone, what are you thinking about?! We should head back to the docks!" Cleianus called out.

Timasone looked at them seriously and slowly said,"I still remember something Davos used to say often: ’Relying on others is not as good as relying on yourself.’"

Phoebidas arrived in Syracuse to a grand welcome from Dionysius, who invited him and his attendants to the palace, laid out a banquet, and personally hosted them.

Watching the beautiful slave girls perform their alluring dances in the center of the hall, even the self-disciplined Phoebidas, hardened since youth in military camps, felt his throat dry. He gulped down several mouthfuls of wine.

He thought to himself, This must have been what life was like for Lysander in those Asia Minor cities he controlled—like an Eastern prince.

"Phoebidas, I heard you made a trip to Dionia. Did you accomplish your mission?" Dionysius, seated at the head, asked casually. The news that a Spartan warship had sailed around the Gulf of Taranto had already reached Syracuse.

"Yes, but without success," Phoebidas admitted, with a hint of admiration in his voice. "The Archon and Senate elders of the Dionian League were extremely firm—even in the face of Sparta, they refused to yield in the slightest!"

"Oh!" Dionysius showed slight surprise. "Sounds like you were impressed with them?"

"Although the contact was brief, I could feel that they value war and victory, respect capable generals and warriors, and train very frequently—somewhat like us Spartans!" Phoebidas praised without reservation. "And this new League is growing very fast. I heard that just over half a year ago it was only a small city-state; now it already has three cities and two allied states. I believe it won’t be long before it becomes a powerful force dominating Magna Graecia!"

Dionysius forced a smile. "That’s good news—at least the natives of Magna Graecia have found themselves an opponent." Though he said this, he set down the wine cup he had just lifted with a thump, spilling wine on the table, and quickly changed the topic to his upcoming campaign against Carthage.

Phoebidas noticed and smiled faintly.

On the return voyage to Sparta, Dorobisius, having held back for a long time, asked,"Phoebidas, why did you praise Dionia at the banquet?"

"My praise will keep Dionysius up at night!" Phoebidas replied smugly. "From the time of the previous tyrant Gelon, Syracuse has considered itself the overlord of Sicily and Magna Graecia. I remember the old man saying Gelon even sent an army north into central Italy’s Campania to defeat the Etruscans besieging Cumae... And Dionysius is even more ambitious. He has used force to make all the Greek city-states in southeastern Sicily his subordinates. Would he allow a strong new power in Magna Graecia to threaten Syracuse’s position?! ... It’s just a pity he’s about to attack Carthage, so he can’t act against Dionia in the short term..."

"Oh, I see!" Dorobisius suddenly understood, but quickly asked, "Since Dionysius is interested in Magna Graecia, then Dionia is probably still less important to him than Rhegium or Croton, right?"

"Yes," Phoebidas admitted. "Right now, Dionia’s strength is still not equal to these traditional great powers of Magna Graecia. But its growth rate will still arouse the suspicion of that ambitious Sicilian."

Dorobisius recalled the grand sight he had seen when invited by Dionysius to inspect his army and couldn’t help exclaiming, "It’s really impressive—Dionysius can actually send 50–60,000 troops and 2–3,000 cavalry to attack Carthage!"

"Though he has many men, I doubt many are truly good fighters!" Phoebidas said—half truth, half sour grapes—because even Sparta, the hegemon of Greece, could not field such a huge army at once. The power of Syracuse and its subject cities was clear enough.

Let Syracuse, Carthage, and Dionia slaughter each other! Phoebidas cursed in his heart.

As the new year (398 BC) began, the Thurii–Castellon Avenue was finally completed, and the several thousand Crotonian prisoners in Dionia were released after their six-month term and returned home.

For Davos, his mood was both tense and excited—Christoya’s belly was visibly larger, and the due date was less than a month away.

At this time, news came from Neritum: Potentia had officially declared support for Archipirus’ son Lusaú in reclaiming Grumentum and demanded that Cincinnagus withdraw to Picocis, or else Potentia would send troops.

Cincinnagus grew nervous at once. He proactively sent envoys to the southern districts of Grumentum, offering to immediately carry out their earlier demands, as long as they would unite again to face the coming Potentian army.

His concessions delighted the tribal chiefs—they, too, feared that if Lusaú took back Grumentum, he would settle old scores with them, since they knew he was just as vindictive as his father.

Everyone thought external pressure had forced the two rival forces in Grumentum to reconcile. But when the chiefs happily came to the city center to negotiate, Cincinnagus sprang a trap—having hidden a large force in advance, he suddenly attacked, capturing all the attending chiefs.

Without their leaders and caught off guard, the southern district’s warriors suffered heavy losses under the planned assault of the Picocis fighters. Some surrendered; others fled Grumentum.

Thus, under the looming threat from Potentia, Cincinnagus unified Grumentum in one stroke. Upon hearing this, even Davos had to admire Cincinnagus’ decisiveness and ruthlessness—unaware that this was largely a lesson learned from his own bitter experience of being ambushed by the Viggers.

Soon after, Sesta reported to the Senate that because of the slaughter in Grumentum, many Lucanians had fled to Neritum. With Potentia and Picocis about to go to war, smaller tribes caught between the two major powers also fled south. As a result, Neritum’s registry of prospective citizens had surged to 8,000. Lacking enough land to distribute and unable to support so many people, they requested that some Lucanians be relocated to Thurii.

After repeated discussion—especially considering Neritum’s recent stability and the good behavior of the Lucanians—the Senate and Davos agreed to the migration.

Phoebidas returned to Sparta, but his report on Dionia failed to attract the Council of Elders’ attention.

One reason was his habit of acting on his own, so those familiar with him found his repeated claims that "the Dionian League disrespected Sparta and was overbearing, and must be punished" irritating, suspecting that he had simply stirred up trouble himself.

More importantly, the elders had no energy to deal with such a minor matter—because one of Sparta’s two kings, Agesis, had died.

Since the Homeric era, Sparta had been ruled by two kings, said to be direct descendants of Heracles, from two hereditary royal families: the Agiads of central Sparta, and the Eurypontids from southern Laconia. Agesis was from the Eurypontid family.

By this era, with the rise of democracy, royal power had been greatly limited, but kings still enjoyed many privileges—especially in death. All of Laconia prepared for Agesis’ funeral: horsemen rode throughout the land announcing the king’s passing; women beat iron pots to spread the news in the city of Sparta; upon hearing it, every household was required to send two free people, one man and one woman, in mourning clothes; and the Perioikoi had to send a fixed number of people to attend the Council of Elders’ funeral rites.

The funeral lasted ten days, during which no public affairs could be handled. On the eleventh day, the elders’ first priority would be to elect a new king.