Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1235: The Prosperous Port Piraeus

The wealthy Theonians loved Athenian Pottery, not just for the unique style and superior quality of its black-and-red-figure pieces, but for their exquisite artwork. Athens drew many of the finest painters in the Greek World, almost all of whom dedicated themselves to vase painting. Onesimos was a standout even among them. Having twice won the vase painting competition at the Panathenaic Festival, he was a master Hesklaus had spent a small fortune to hire.

Faced with Hesklaus's flattery, Onesimos reacted much like any other Athenian. "I only hope the Theonians can fully appreciate the beauty of my work! Ah... this order is just too large. I'm exhausted. I need to rest for a while."

Watching the painter put on a show of stretching and yawning, Hesklaus cursed him silently but nodded along in agreement. "Yes, yes, you definitely deserve a good rest... I suppose I'll just have to push this next order back a bit."

"There's another order?!" Onesimos snapped impatiently. "Bring it up after I've rested!"

"Then I'll just have to turn the buyers down, because they need it done quite urgently," Hesklaus said with feigned nonchalance. "I heard it was personally commissioned by the Daunian Royal Family. They plan to display this batch of pottery in the Royal Palace and use it to host distinguished guests from all nations during the Games."

"What did you say? An order from the Daunian Royal Family?!" Onesimos asked, his expression instantly turning serious.

"Yes. I swear to Athena, the order came straight from the Daunian Royal Family!"

"Er

The wealthy men of Daionia prized Athenian Pottery not only for the unique style and superior quality of its black-and-red-figure pieces, but for the exquisite artwork adorning them. Athens drew many of the finest painters in the Greek World, almost all of whom dedicated themselves to vase painting. Onesimos stood out even among this elite group. Having twice won the vase painting competition at the Panathenaic Festival, he was a master Hesklaus had spent a small fortune to hire.

Watching the painter put on a show of stretching and yawning, Hesklaus cursed him silently but murmured his agreement. "Yes, yes, you certainly deserve a good rest... I suppose I'll just have to push this next order back a bit."

"There's another order?!" Onesimos snapped impatiently. "Wait until I'm rested to bring it up!"

"Then I'll just have to turn the buyers away, as they need it done rather urgently," Hesklaus said with feigned nonchalance. "I heard it was personally commissioned by the Daunian Royal Family. They plan to display this batch of pottery in the Royal Palace and use it to host distinguished guests from all nations during the Games."

"What did you say? An order from the Daunian Royal Family?!" Onesimos asked, his expression instantly turning serious.

"Yes. I swear to Athena, the order came straight from the Daunian Royal Family!"

"Er... I suppose my rest can wait until this batch is finished," Onesimos said, shamelessly changing his tune. For all his outward disdain toward the Theonians, he was keenly aware that the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia was the absolute hegemon of the western Mediterranean and the entire Greek World. The prestige of its royal family was unmatched. If the supremely powerful King of Daonia favored his work—and if those pieces were used to entertain visiting dignitaries from other city-states—his name would resound across the entire Mediterranean Sea. (Athenian Pottery had one distinct feature: it always bore the signatures of both the potter and the vase painter.)

A teasing smirk played at the corners of Hesklaus's lips. "Very well. I'll make the arrangements."

"Wait a moment. Are there any requirements for the imagery?"

"It must depict scenes from the Canon of Hades. After all, the Daunian Royal Family are descendants of Hades."

"Understood. Buy me a copy of the Canon of Hades as quickly as you can," Onesimos said without a second's hesitation.

There was another reason the Theonians favored Athenian Pottery. While the ceramic art of most other city-states focused on still-life imagery, Athenian vase paintings were narrative. They depicted wars, heroic legends, and the gods, often carrying a sweeping, tragic epic quality—a stylistic choice likely born of the Athenians' deep love for theater.

Daionian buyers often commissioned Athenian pottery merchants for pieces illustrating the wars that shaped the Kingdom of Daunia, the divine miracles of Hades, and the great deeds of King Davos. Since the patrons paying the bills set the demands, the vase painters had no choice but to comply. Eventually, some enterprising individual even opened a bookstore in the town of Thriasium dedicated exclusively to texts related to the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia. These included The Expedition by Xenophon, History of Magna Graecia by Ansitanos, and Records of the Western Mediterranean Wars by Henipolis. There was also the Chronicles of Northern Italy—adapted by Ansitanos from intelligence reports written years ago by Maximus, a clerk of the Kingdom Intelligence Department stationed with the Etruria border corps, which had been held in the restricted section of the Thurii library. And naturally, they stocked the Canon of Hades. This made Thriasium the only place on the Greek Mainland outside of Messenia, New Sparta, and Thessaly to publicly sell the Canon of Hades.

"Careful! Be absolutely careful! If you break even one, there goes three months of your pay!" the foreman bellowed continuously at the laboring slaves. Piece by piece, the exquisite works of pottery were nestled into wooden crates lined with straw and thick wool.

Before setting off, Hesklaus had repeatedly instructed the foreman to begin production on the next batch of pottery as quickly as possible, stressing that they had to strive for perfection with absolutely no mistakes.

There was a port not far from Thriasium dedicated to the transport and export of pottery, but Hesklaus chose to haul the goods back to his residence in the Athenian suburbs first. He called it his residence, but it was merely a long-term rental; as a foreigner, Hesklaus had no legal right to purchase real estate in Athens.

Four years ago, Hesklaus would never have dared to settle and do business in Athens. He was just a minor merchant from Thessaly, a land the Athenians had long dismissed as a territory of barbarians. But Thessaly had since been incorporated into the Sacred Kingdom of Daunia, making the Thessalians into Daionian Citizens. Blessed by fortune, Hesklaus had befriended a wealthy merchant from Thurii. With his benefactor's guidance and financial backing, he had relocated his entire family to Athens to enter the pottery trade.

Athens was an open city-state, and its various industries were flooded with foreigners, though most held low social status. While the local Athenian citizens might have looked down on Hesklaus's background, his status as a Daionian Citizen ensured that if trouble arose, the magistrates wouldn't dare show blatant favoritism toward the locals. Naturally, he still had to abide by Athenian laws. Beyond paying regular taxes and the occasional public welfare donation, he was also required to pay a minor market tax imposed on foreign merchants, from which Athenian citizens were exempt.

Compared to the profits he was raking in, of course, those fees were a drop in the ocean. What gave him the most peace of mind was that, thanks to his citizenship, the Athenian government could not arbitrarily conscript him to fight as a hoplite. Not that there was much fighting to be done; ever since the formation of the New Greek League, the Greek Mainland had seen no war. The days of living in constant fear were a thing of the past.

Today, Hesklaus no longer harbored any desire to return to Thessaly. He was perfectly content to spend the rest of his life immersed in the thriving, commercial atmosphere of Athens.

That evening, Hesklaus hosted a banquet at his home, inviting several other Thessalian merchants doing business in Athens.

The guests sat around the feast, enjoying delicious food and drinking wine as they eagerly discussed the monumental changes Daionia had brought to Thessaly over the past few years.

To name just one example, the very format of their banquets had changed drastically. They no longer adhered to the traditional Greek style, where every guest lounged on a couch to eat, drink, and converse in a semi-reclined posture. Instead, they all sat upright in wooden chairs, each with their own dining table set before them. This shift was a direct result of the increasingly frequent contact between Daionia's heartland and Thessaly, bolstered by the migration of Daionian Citizens to the Thessalian plains. The Thessalians had historically harbored an inferiority complex toward the southern Greek Mainland. Now that they were Daionian Citizens, that old insecurity was fading, only to be replaced by a quiet, lingering new one: an inferiority complex when facing native citizens from Daionia proper. As a result, Thessalians who dealt closely with the heartland were constantly learning and adapting. The merchants in particular strove to imitate Daionian customs and habits in hopes of bridging the gap between them.

The banquet's atmosphere was lively, and everyone drank a bit too much. Hesklaus even called his eldest son, Lyrias, into the room and drunkenly promised the boy that he would take him along on the ship to Thurii the very next day.

The nine-year-old boy was so thrilled he hardly slept a wink that night.

When Hesklaus woke up sober the next morning, he had absolutely no memory of making such a promise. Lyrias threw a crying fit, refusing to let the matter go. Finally, swayed by his wife's gentle persuasion, Hesklaus had no choice but to relent and nod his agreement.

After breakfast, he took his son, led the pack train, and headed straight for Port Piraeus.

Piraeus was the largest commercial port in the Eastern Mediterranean. Thousands of merchant ships sailed in and out every day, creating a scene of extraordinary prosperity.

Hesklaus arrived at a relatively secluded dock. Even though the hour was early, the piers were already packed with cargo ships. Goods of every description covered the ground as countless dockworkers and slaves bustled about, loading freight onto the vessels. Fortunately, during the banquet the night before, several Thessalian merchants had agreed to depart for Thurii together. They had already chartered a cargo ship and hired porters. (Port Piraeus regulations dictated that pack trains not belonging to the port were prohibited from entering the docks to prevent chaos and damage.) Hesklaus hurriedly instructed the porters to carefully carry his crates of pottery to the front of the dock's warehouse, one by one. The head of the porters then led him inside.

In the center of this massive, cargo-filled room sat the office of the Athenian port officials assigned to this dock. After verifying the type and quantity of goods Hesklaus intended to export from Athens, they had him register and sign his name. The officials then calculated the total value of his shipment based on current market prices and demanded he immediately pay the one-tenth tax. (Athenian law dictated that a flat one-tenth tax applied to all goods, whether imported or exported. It was a crude, simple, and convenient system, but the steep tax rate naturally drove up retail prices. If a merchant's goods failed to sell, they faced ruinous losses.)

Hesklaus had brought along a large sum of Silver Coins of Hades. These Daionian coins had become wildly popular across the Greek Mainland since the founding of the New Greek League, prized for their high silver content and exquisite craftsmanship. Conversely, due to the depletion of the Laurion silver mines and the severe drain on the treasury from years of war, the silver content of Athens's traditional Owl Silver Coins had plummeted time and again. They were no longer as sought after as they once were; even many Athenians now preferred using Silver Coins of Hades. Hesklaus promptly paid his dues as requested.

The office was fully equipped with official scales and measuring tools. The clerk meticulously inspected and weighed the coins. Only after confirming everything was in order did he finally authorize Hesklaus's cargo ship to leave port.

By the time all the cargo was loaded and the ship finally pushed away from the pier, it was nearly noon.

Hesklaus and his companions were traveling on the largest merchant vessel of the group. Just as their fleet sailed out of the Saronic Gulf, the wind shifted to the south. With their sails fully hoisted, the ships surged forward across the water as if they had grown wings. Joy spread across the faces of Hesklaus and the other merchants. With the sea breeze at their backs, the fleet would reach Thurii much sooner than anticipated.