Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1080: Tactical Examination

"How could there possibly be any money?" Gorgion burped, his face flushed, his tone growing agitated. "Look at the kingdom's roads—aren't they smooth and wide? Every bridge is built of stone, sturdy and durable! Every town's arena is grand and luxurious! ...But doesn't building them take money? Doesn't maintaining them take money? The kingdom controls a vast territory with countless towns. To govern them well requires an army of officials to devote themselves entirely to the task—so don't they need to be paid? ...Those expenses eat up the bulk of the treasury's spending. Where would there be any coin left over? The kingdom works hard to maintain such an excellent environment for the citizens, but how much tax do the citizens actually pay?"

"Only one percent of their annual harvest!" a diner shouted. "These Daionian Citizens have it too good! I'm from Delos Island. My mother state was forced back into the Athenian Maritime Alliance, and Athens demanded financial contributions. It took sixty percent of my income! That is why I had to leave my mother state and move to Daionia."

"It's the same for my mother state, the Island of Melos," another diner chimed in, pouring out his grievances. "We were forced into the Peloponnesian League and had to pay a substantial tribute to Sparta every year to fund the Corinthian War and this current Theban War. My taxes were never less than twenty percent of my income. Last year, Athens won a major naval battle and seized control of the Aegean Sea. My mother state took the opportunity to break away from Sparta and join the Athenian Maritime Alliance. I thought life would get easier, but I didn't expect the Athenians to demand money just the same. The tax rate didn't drop at all. Left with no other choice, I fled here to Thurii. Sigh..."

Their stories resonated with the other patrons.

After a round of mutual complaining, Gorgion spoke up loudly, "Compared to our old mother states, Daionia truly is a wonderful place to live. Even with the treasury stretched so thin, King Davos and his ministers still have no desire to raise taxes on the populace. But a one percent tax really is too low, and the full citizens live so comfortably. Why don't they volunteer to pay a little more to help the kingdom out of this financial shortfall? That way, the kingdom could fund a border defense army made up of registered freemen, which would also solve the citizens' own problem of enduring long deployments at the borders."

"Gorgion is right. Since the full citizens own so much land, paying a bit more in taxes wouldn't affect their livelihoods anyway."

"If they won't even agree to a slight tax increase, how do they have the face to call themselves the kingdom's brave protectors?"

The tavern's conversation quickly shifted to whether the citizens should pay more tax to fund a border defense army, and the debate grew increasingly heated.

Maximus didn't care much about the topic, but he noticed that every time Gorgion spoke, the discussion flared up, growing even more intense.

Finally, as Gorgion got up to leave, he glanced at Maximus—who had been watching him intermittently—and offered a polite, smiling nod.

Maximus naturally nodded in return.

Watching the man stroll away, Maximus gathered his bowl and pot and brought them back to the cook behind the counter. "That man who just left greeted me," he asked with feigned casualness, "but I'm afraid I don't know who he is."

"Oh, him. That's Gorgion. He works as a clerk at the Thurii City Hall, and I hear he's about to become a full citizen. Despite his high status, he's friendly to everyone, knows a great deal, and is a regular here. He always says that even though our tavern is small, the wine is excellent and the food is well-made..." The cook had no guard up whatsoever. She enthusiastically chattered on, taking the opportunity to praise her own establishment.

Hearing this, the first thought that popped into Maximus's mind was:

Figuring out how to earn a living to support his family was obviously necessary, but his most pressing task was getting their home set up first. By the time the family walked out of the tavern, however, the sky had already grown dark.

Based on his experiences in Rome and the slave camps, Maximus assumed that all the shops in the outer districts of Thurii would be closed. But the sight before him took him by surprise: many shops were lit with candles, the streets were still bustling with pedestrians, and the night patrols were steadily making their rounds...

Seeing block after block illuminated by countless flickering candles, Maximus's family was overjoyed. They bought a bed and some cloth at a furniture shop not far from their rented room, picked up candles at a nearby shop, and purchased a few clay pots from a pottery vendor. Finally, they spent a few extra coins to hire a laborer from the furniture shop to help carry it all back to their new home.

After a flurry of activity, the room took on a completely new look.

Fulvia looked exhausted, repeatedly wiping sweat from her forehead, but her eyes shone with happiness. "Maximus, we finally have a home!"

Watching his two children roughhousing on the bed, Maximus was similarly overwhelmed with emotion and nodded silently.

...

There were over a dozen military camps scattered throughout the Kingdom of Daunia. They served as bases for the citizens' military training as well as acting as active fortresses. Among these, the Thurii Military Camp stood out. Not only was it the largest in scale, accommodating the greatest number of citizens at any given time, but it also possessed a unique function: training military officers.

In the past, the staff officers of the Ministry of Military Affairs primarily came here for practical study and training. After the Western Mediterranean War, however, Davos issued a new decree: any mid-level officer seeking promotion to a senior command must first undergo formal training and pass an examination.

The location for this mandatory training was also set at the Thurii Military Camp, making its prestige within the Daionian Army shine even brighter.

On this particular morning, the tactical simulation room of the Thurii Military Camp was packed. In the center of the floor stood the two most outstanding performers among this batch of senior trainees: Sextus and Patroclus. They were about to face their practical tactical simulation exam.

The Chief of Staff acting as the head referee, Tormide—who had taken over the position after Philesius resigned following the Western Mediterranean War—cleared his throat. "I declare the examination begun!" he announced.

The room instantly fell quiet.

One of the referees, Second Legion Commander Matonis, walked up to the two examinees holding a wooden tray. "Which of you will roll?" he asked.

"Patroclus, you roll first," Sextus offered modestly.

"Alright." Patroclus unhesitatingly grabbed a square die carved from sheep bone off the wooden tray and tossed it lightly onto the floor.

"An even number." Reading the result, Matonis immediately issued his instructions. "Patroclus, you will initiate the attack. Sextus, you will take the defense. Now, it's your turn to roll."

Sextus carefully picked up two dice and tossed them high into the air.

The two dice tumbled several times across the floor. Once Matonis got a clear look, he declared loudly, "A nine!"

Another referee standing nearby, the former Chief of Staff Philesius, immediately consulted a chart. "Tactical map number nine," he announced, "features mountains with an average elevation of over 300 meters, along with a wide river spanning 50 meters."

The moment Philesius finished speaking, a wave of hushed whispers broke out among the observing officers. Clearly, such terrain heavily favored the defending side.

At that moment, a massive wooden map board was placed between Patroclus and Sextus.

As the two examinees carefully studied the map and pondered their tactics, the head referee and the four other referees—all holding at least the rank of Legion Commander, boasting rich battlefield experience and outstanding military service—took the opportunity to confer in low voices.

After a while, the head referee Tolmides stood up and announced clearly, "Given this tactical map, we have concluded our discussion and made our final decision. The defending force will number 4,000 men. Among them are 500 medium Samnite infantry, 1,500 light-armored Samnite infantry, 1,500 Samnite javelin throwers, and 500 Samnite spearmen. The attacking force will number 20,000 men. This includes two Theonia Legions totaling 18,000 troops, 200 siege troops, 500 Daionian cavalrymen, 500 from the Mountain Scout Corps, and 500 from the Supply Camp. The defenders hold the supply advantage. Because the attackers are driving deep into enemy territory, their baggage train can only carry a single provision load lasting 30 days. If victory cannot be decided after 30 days, the attacking side will be judged the loser!"

As Tolmides laid out the scenario, Patroclus and Sextus picked up wooden tablets to jot down the figures.

Once he finished speaking, the two men resumed studying the map, cross-referencing the data on their tablets as they fell deep into thought.

"This simulates the kingdom's campaign into the Samnite mountains. Although the terrain is complex and the march will be difficult, Patroclus commands two full kingdom legions. As long as he can locate the main Samnite force, he should be able to seize victory."

"I don't think it'll be that simple. Didn't the instructor mention during our lectures that the fighting strength of the Samnites is not to be underestimated? Especially their javelin throwers. Plus, they excel at mountain warfare. The only reason we conquered them is that we never truly fought them in the mountains; we wiped out their main forces on the plains. But now that Sextus can pour all his effort into defending a mountain range, the course of the battle will be vastly different."