The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 138: The Fall of Turii

The blaring horns of attack shattered the early morning calm over Turii. From the docks of the southern and northern cities, an uprising erupted as freedmen and slaves, armed with hidden weapons, struck suddenly and ferociously at the defending troops.

The southern city, nestled on the south bank of the Krathis River, had humble beginnings as a cluster of huts for farmers working late. Over the years, it grew into a village fortified by walls to protect against Bruttian raiders. Despite its defenses, it remained small and lightly guarded. In recent days, reinforcements had been stationed there, but lulled by false news of a ceasefire, the defenders were caught completely off guard by the uprising.

Chaos erupted as the defenders faltered, overwhelmed by the sudden assault. Crotone’s army, capitalizing on the confusion, advanced swiftly. With minimal resistance, they crossed the moat, raised siege ladders, and stormed the city walls. The gates were soon flung open, and Crotone’s forces poured into the southern city like a flood, scattering the defenders.

Using ferries, cargo ships, and merchant vessels commandeered by the freedmen, Crotonian troops were rapidly transported across the river to the northern city’s port.

In the northern city, Turii’s generals were reeling from the news of Crotone’s arrival at their gates. Panic spread like wildfire as reports of uprisings at both docks reached them. They struggled to issue orders in the face of such overwhelming calamity.

Desperate, they called upon every citizen capable of bearing arms. Men over fifty and boys as young as fourteen donned armor and armed themselves with shields and spears. This was no time for hesitation—every citizen had to rise to defend their homeland.

As the call to arms echoed through the streets, a makeshift force was hastily assembled. Despite their lack of preparation, the citizens rallied with grim determination. They struck back at the freedmen and, through sheer numbers and resolve, crushed the poorly equipped rebels.

But even as they secured this fleeting victory, the Crotonian army landed.

Immediately upon disembarking, Crotone’s soldiers charged the defenders at the northern docks. The defeated freedmen, regrouping, joined the fray, bolstering the assault. The narrow streets of the port became a battlefield as Turii’s citizens fought desperately to hold their ground.

Though the Crotonians vastly outnumbered them, the confined space neutralized their advantage. Old men and young boys stood shoulder to shoulder, refusing to yield. Even the generals of Turii joined the fight, their swords gleaming amidst the chaos.

Behind them, hundreds of women screamed and cheered, their voices rising in a tragic symphony of defiance and despair. Crotone’s disciplined soldiers clashed with Turii’s desperate defenders, leading to a bloody stalemate.

General Melanthius, known for leading from the front, arrived late due to his ferry springing a leak. When he finally landed, he found the docks crowded with boats, making his disembarkation a struggle. Surveying the battle, he saw the stalemate and immediately issued orders.

"Demolish the buildings flanking the streets!" he commanded. freёwebnoѵel.com

Crotonian soldiers obeyed with ruthless efficiency, breaking down walls and clearing paths to outflank the defenders. Turii’s forces, surrounded and outmaneuvered, began to waver.

For a time, they fought valiantly, but as one citizen after another fell, the line broke. The defenders scattered in retreat, and chaos consumed the city.

Neonisis, unwilling to flee, charged into the fray. A general of humble origins, he had earned the respect of the people through diligence and integrity. But less than two months into his tenure, he had led Turii to ruin. Consumed by shame, he fought to the death, his body pierced by a Crotonian spear.

Meanwhile, other generals, including Polyxius, turned and fled.

Bourkos and Plessinas gathered the remaining citizens, along with women and children, and led them to the acropolis on the hillside behind the city. The acropolis, home to the Temple of Apollo and the Altar of Hera, whose sacred flame had burned for forty-one years, was the spiritual heart of Turii. Here, they made their final stand.

By nightfall, Melanthius had secured the rest of the city. He ordered his soldiers to light torches and surround the acropolis. Then, he delivered a chilling ultimatum:

"Surrender immediately, or we will burn the acropolis to the ground."

The threat sent shockwaves through Bourkos and the others. The acropolis was sacred, dedicated to Apollo—also Crotone’s patron god. Yet Melanthius’s ruthless command left them with no choice. After a painful deliberation, they opened the gates.

With this, Crotone completed its conquest of Turii.

When the news reached Amendolara, Juleios was observing military drills at the training camp. He and his officers were stunned.

"I never imagined Turii would fall so quickly," remarked Silos.

Amintas sneered. "It wouldn’t have happened if they’d resolved their conflicts with the freedmen and slaves earlier!"

Juleios, however, offered measured praise. "Their general is no ordinary man. Using deception to lull Turii into a false sense of security, then launching a sudden and organized assault, shows considerable skill. Capturing the city in under five hours demonstrates that Crotone’s soldiers are well-trained. We must remain vigilant."

"But we’re not afraid of them!" Amintas declared boldly.

Juleios smiled. "Exactly. We respect our enemies but do not fear them. Prepare for all possibilities—we’ll be ready to fight any foe!"

"Legatus," Alexis interjected, addressing Juleios by his preferred title, "what should our next move be?"

"What do you think?" Juleios asked.

"We should send more scouts to monitor Crotone’s movements and fortify Amendolara’s defenses," Alexis replied.

"Good. We’ll wait and see," Juleios concluded.

As he watched his soldiers training with unwavering discipline, Juleios thought of the Crotonians plundering Turii. His heart, however, held no fear.

In Turii, Melanthius allowed his troops free rein to loot, pillage, and commit atrocities. Civilians were beaten, wealth was seized, and women were violated. The citizens of Turii were plunged into utter despair.

Melanthius, meanwhile, claimed the most luxurious residence for himself. He and his officers feasted and reveled in their victory, indulging in wine and the company of women.

During the revelry, a courtesan mentioned a historian residing in Turii, a disciple of Herodotus. Intrigued, Melanthius ordered his guards to summon the man.

Ansitanos, the historian, arrived to find a debauched scene. Crotonian officers sprawled across couches, drunk, with women at their sides. Among them were Turii women forced into this degrading spectacle.

As Ansitanos stepped carefully across the wine-soaked floor, Melanthius greeted him with a sly grin.

"Ah, Turii’s historian! Will you record my name and this glorious victory for posterity?"

Ansitanos, his voice cold, replied, "No. Only the crimes and disgraceful deeds you’ve committed here will be written."

The officers erupted in anger, but Melanthius silenced them with a dismissive wave.

"Let the historian write as he wishes," Melanthius said smugly. "The victor proves his strength through action, while the loser justifies his weakness with words."

As the flames of Turii’s destruction burned in the night, Melanthius sat back, his mind turning to the small city to the north.

"I’ve heard of this Juleios of Amendolara," he mused. "He defeated a Lucanian coalition with only six thousand men. I wonder... which of us is the better general?"

Ansitanos’s eyes gleamed as he replied, "Behind you stands mighty Crotone. Behind him, only Amendolara."

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