CHAPTER 191: CHAPTER 191 — AMENDOLARA HANDICRAFT DEVELOPMENT ZONE

"No! I never said that!"The merchant’s face went pale as the judge’s expression hardened.

A roar of outrage erupted from behind him:

"How dare you insult us Lucanians? Are you tired of living?!"

"Izam is a hero of our Alliance, and you dare speak that way about his wife?! Judge, you must punish this lecher!"

The merchant cursed his own bad luck. He’d only been in the city for a few days, and hadn’t yet learned its customs. Back in other city-states, most citizens’ wives stayed at home. If a foreign woman came to the marketplace alone, she was almost certainly a slave—someone you could tease, even touch, without consequence.

But this was Dionia, and things were different here. Many citizens had Lucanian wives, and many Greek women had married Lucanian probationary citizens. These outsiders tended to be bolder, freer in public, and their ways had begun to change even the traditionally conservative Greek citizens.

What’s more, Archon Davos himself allowed his wife to appear in public, even to run banks and restaurants in the marketplace. That example had reshaped the city’s social norms. Seeing a citizen’s wife in the market was now an everyday occurrence.

Judge Proxilaus leaned forward. "Defendant—are the plaintiff’s words true?"

The merchant opened his mouth to deny it, but Proxilaus cut him off, voice sharp:

"If this were only about discriminating against foreigners, the penalty would be a fine and corporal punishment. But if you swear before the gods and then lie—" His tone turned cold. "That is blasphemy. And the punishment for blasphemy is the tongue being torn out. Think carefully before you answer."

The merchant froze. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Finally, he muttered, "Most... of what she said is true. But... but I didn’t know discriminating against foreigners was a crime here."

"Oh?" Proxilaus’s eyes narrowed. "When you rented your stall, did you not read the Rules of Commerce in Dionia posted by the market authority?"

"I—" The merchant started to deny it, then remembered: without reading and acknowledging those rules, you couldn’t rent a stall. He swallowed. "...Yes. I read them."

"In that case, you knowingly broke the law. For violating the law against discrimination, you will pay ten drachma and take two blows with the rod, so you remember this lesson."

He turned to another magistrate. "As for insulting the plaintiff with words but not acting upon them—do we have a specific law for that?"

Fraucreon thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"In that case," Proxilaus said, "I’ll let the plaintiff decide your punishment."

The Lucanian woman didn’t hesitate. "Have him work as a market guide for five days—unpaid."

Proxilaus nodded. "So be it. Defendant, you may refuse. But in that case, you will be expelled from the Alliance and barred from ever doing business here again."

The merchant’s pride meant nothing compared to his profits. Business had been good in Thurii’s market, and he had no desire to lose it over this. He accepted the punishment.

The next case was the opposite: a registered freeman vendor had assaulted a foreign merchant. The facts were clear—he had insulted and beaten the man. Normally this would simply be judged under the laws against discrimination and brawling.

But during the trial, the freeman repeatedly denied striking the merchant and hinted to Proxilaus that he was a close associate of Senator Polyxius—hoping the judge would let him off.

Proxilaus, already unimpressed by Polyxius’s aristocratic airs in the Senate, seized the opportunity. "How dare you sully Senator Polyxius’s name! You have abused the plaintiff, struck him, lied under oath—you are guilty of blasphemy! The sentence will be carried out immediately!"

The freeman panicked and begged for mercy. The crowd cheered the judge’s decision.

Rather than face tongue removal, the man chose the alternative: forty blows with the rod. He was carried out half-conscious. The court scribe recorded the offense, ensuring he would be expelled from Dionia even if he recovered.

The market and port courts handled such minor disputes quickly—without lengthy trials, lawyers, or juries.

Theo—watching from outside—saw the deeper purpose: these small courts were a public demonstration of Dionia’s commitment to justice, protecting the rights of all—citizens, foreigners, even slaves—so long as they obeyed the law.

For merchants like him, the message was powerful. In most city-states, foreign traders were resented and the authorities sided with locals. Athens was the exception, granting foreigners extensive rights—enough to run mines, monopolize shipping, and profit from its industries, though not to own land or hold office. In return, foreigners in Athens often donated to public works, funded festivals, and even fought alongside Athenians in times of war.

Now, Dionia seemed determined to match Athens—and in some ways, to surpass it.

Theo was here because the Senate had just passed a law: the land between the Saraceno and Sinno Rivers would be leased to foreign merchants for handicraft production—for twenty years.

The news had electrified the foreign merchant community, and word spread across Magna Graecia. With Laos now in the Alliance, merchants could trade cheaply with Naples, Massilia, Gaul, Iberia, and Mauritania. A direct Thurii–Laos highway was under construction; once completed, goods could travel between the cities in just two days—about the same as by sea, but without the danger of pirates, storms, or the heavy tolls at Messina.

Theo had passed the land near Amendolara before: flat but rocky, useless for farming, and long left idle apart from a military camp. To him, it was perfect.

He planned to buy a plot and open a weapons workshop. Dionia’s love of military glory meant constant demand for arms. The main weapons shop in Thurii sold mostly captured equipment, refurbished but rarely newly made. It lacked the capacity to produce full sets of hoplite gear from scratch.

Theo, from Corinth—a city famous for its arms—had experience and connections with skilled smiths. Setting up a workshop here would save transport costs, take advantage of local copper and iron mines, and allow him to produce custom armor and weapons for citizens, sell in bulk to the state, or even to the native tribes (Dionia placed no restrictions on arms exports).

The profits, he calculated, would surpass even the grain trade. And he was eager to begin.