The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 149: Rebuilding Thurii

"I will be like that in the future!" Secrian shouted confidently, filled with hope for what lay ahead. "Untie the ropes; let’s head to the estuary!"

Lysias watched Secrian disappear with his fishing boat before turning to observe the patrol captain who stood before him. He asked, "Are you a citizen of Amendolara?"

The captain, a sharp-eyed man with a disciplined bearing, glanced at him and replied, "No, we are citizens of the Amendolara-Thurii Alliance."

"Oh, my apologies," Lysias said politely and then inquired further, "May I ask about the condition of the Crotonian soldiers you captured?"

The captain’s expression turned serious. "I cannot tell you their exact location because that is a military secret," he said firmly. "But I can assure you they are doing well for now. Lord Juleios even ordered that the hospital treat the injured among them. However, if your negotiations fail, their circumstances may not remain so favorable."

Lysias’s composure wavered slightly. The implications were clear. He thought of Athens’ failed Sicilian expedition against Syracuse, where thousands of captured soldiers had been sent to quarry mines, their lives extinguished within a few harsh years. The grim parallels sent a shiver through him.

After a moment, a mounted soldier approached and whispered something to the captain. Nodding in acknowledgment, the captain turned to the Crotonian delegation and said, "The senate has agreed to meet with you. Let’s proceed."

As they moved through the ruined port and entered the city, the Crotonian delegation was astonished by the contrast before them. Though the port lay in blackened ruins, the city itself bustled with life. Men, women, and even children were hard at work.

Some were clearing ashes and hauling rubble; others were leveling the land with the guidance of craftsmen, driving stakes and laying foundations. Near the city walls, teams erected wooden scaffolding, laid stones, and stacked bricks. Carts filled with mortar, bricks, and timber moved in steady streams, and the air hummed with the rhythm of construction.

The entire city of Thurii had become a massive worksite, its people united in purpose. Despite the sheer number of laborers, the scene was surprisingly orderly. Some workers wore red ribbons tied around their heads, marking them as coordinators who directed and organized the labor. Overseeing it all was a thin, elderly man who moved tirelessly, consulting blueprints and ensuring the workers followed his designs.

"Who is that?" someone in the Crotonian delegation asked, curiosity evident in their tone.

"Heracleides, a former disciple of the renowned Greek architect Hippodamus," the captain replied.

Heracleides had once supervised the construction of Amendolara’s key infrastructure projects, including its warehouses, inns, and the main road connecting Amendolara to Thurii. When he heard of the senate’s plans to rebuild Thurii, he had volunteered to design and lead the effort.

Deeply attached to the city he had lived in for over 20 years, Heracleides poured his heart into the project. His knowledge of Thurii’s geography was unparalleled, allowing him to complete the new city’s design with astonishing speed. Juleios had praised his plans and entrusted him with overseeing the reconstruction. Heracleides’s passion was infectious, inspiring the citizens to rebuild their homes with fervor.

The Crotonian envoys, however, knew little of Hippodamus or his disciple. They offered polite remarks and shifted their attention elsewhere. Seemingly offhandedly, Lysias remarked, "There must be over 40,000 people working here. Thurii itself doesn’t have so many citizens. Are Amendolara’s people helping as well?"

The captain smirked slightly. "Our people from Amendolara are here, but the majority of the labor force consists of freemen and slaves," he said, his tone suggesting he anticipated their next question. "You’re probably wondering why these freemen and slaves are working so hard."

Lysias nodded cautiously.

"It’s simple," the captain explained. "Freemen have a chance to gain citizenship and even marry citizens—if the woman consents, of course."

"What?!" Lysias’s disbelief was audible.

The captain chuckled. "You see, Thurii suffered greatly during the wars and your occupation. Over ten thousand of our citizens died in the conflict with the Lucanians, and the city is full of widows. Thurii even debated a law allowing men to take multiple wives. The freemen here see this as an opportunity to win favor and a future. As for the slaves, they’ve been promised freedom, housing, and land if they join the military."

One of the captain’s soldiers grinned and teased, "Captain, your wife is one of the most beautiful women in Amendolara. Do you know how envious everyone else is of you?"

The captain laughed heartily. "Of course! My wife is the most beautiful in Amendolara, aside from the consul’s wife. And she’s not just beautiful—she’s well-educated too. I can only pity the rest of you!"

Another soldier chimed in, "My Lucanian woman is strong and passionate. Greek women can’t compare!" Their banter grew coarser, drawing amused laughter from the group, but Lysias tuned it out, his thoughts elsewhere.

To a traditional Greek aristocrat like Lysias, the policies of the Amendolara-Thurii Alliance were almost heretical. In a city-state like Crotone, where lineage and kinship were sacred, such measures would have been unthinkable. Yet he could not deny their efficacy. Thurii’s innovative laws were rapidly rebuilding its strength. This realization sat uneasily with him. The revival of Thurii, now an adversary, was a troubling prospect.

As the group left the city and neared the military camp, they "coincidentally" encountered squads of soldiers training. The exercises resembled a competitive game, with teams of fifty wielding wooden sticks as spears and using thick boards as shields. The soldiers clashed with intensity, attempting to drive each other behind chalk-drawn lines.

The losing team faced a playful yet grueling punishment—squatting with their hands behind their heads and hopping like frogs across the field. The soldiers’ enthusiasm was undiminished despite minor injuries. Their laughter and cheers echoed through the air, reflecting their camaraderie and combat readiness.

One envoy asked curiously, "Is this how you usually train?"

The captain replied with a sly grin. "This is just a warm-up. Our real training sessions last from dawn until dusk every five days. This... is child’s play."

The Crotonians exchanged uneasy glances. Even if exaggerated, the rigorous training explained the alliance’s military success. Their forces were far better prepared than the citizen-soldiers of Crotone, who spent more time in the arena than on the battlefield.

Reaching the camp, the patrol captain escorted the delegation to a large central tent. After reporting their arrival, he left the Crotonians to wait outside. As they stood there, a man exited the tent. Lysias caught a fleeting sense of familiarity but couldn’t place him. The man hesitated briefly before offering a faint smile and walking away.

"Envoys, the consul will see you now," came the captain’s voice.

Lysias steadied himself, lifted the tent flap, and stepped inside, the weight of the negotiations ahead pressing upon him.

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