Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1307: Issuing a Challenge

The reason was simple: the Daionian Army had to maintain firm control over the pontoon bridge across the Euphrates river to guarantee an unobstructed supply route.

When the army began constructing its camp, the soldiers discovered a problem: the surrounding area was a continuous plain covered in yellowing grass. While clusters of shrubs and reeds dotted the landscape, there was not a single tree in sight.

Unable to build wooden palisades, the soldiers had to dig up extra dirt and ram it into earthen walls.

Of course, there were things for the soldiers to be happy about. For instance, the terrain here was exceptionally open, allowing the legions to spread their camps out completely. They didn't have to huddle tightly together with almost no room to maneuver, as they had in the narrow confines of Canaan and Syria, to say nothing of Phoenicia.

Another source of excitement was the abundance of wildlife living on the plains north of the City of Thapsacus. Herds of wild donkeys, antelopes, bustards, and even ostriches foraged across the vast expanse. They didn't panic or flee even when they spotted strangers in the distance; their swift legs and powerful wings were usually more than enough to evade human hunters.

However, while the rest of the Daionian Army built the camp, they deployed the Numidian Light Cavalry Legion, who were master hunters on the open plains. Over a thousand Numidian light cavalrymen used tactical encirclements to trap the wild donkeys and antelopes, and shot down the bustards and ostriches with bows and arrows mid-chase. In just two days, they provided the soldiers with massive quantities of fresh meat.

Additionally, the cooks in the Supply Camp used nets to catch plenty of large sturgeon from the Euphrates river.

The donkey and antelope meat was nourishing, the bustard was tender, and the sturgeon was delicious; only the ostrich meat proved a bit tough. Ever since leaving Egypt, the Daionian Army had been fighting nonstop, and their original reserves of dried meat had long been depleted. Once they pushed inland, their daily rations had been reduced to gnawing on bread and drinking hot water. The soldiers had never expected to eat such delicacies within the ruined territory of the City of Thapsacus. The fine food washed away their exhaustion and filled them with fresh energy for their work.

Two days later, having hunted the animals near the camp to near extinction, the Numidian Cavalry had to ride much farther east to find new prey.

The great Persian army had arrived! Long before they could scramble back to camp in a panic to report it, the scout riders had already relayed the news to the king's tent.

Davos immediately ordered all legions to stand on high alert, while instructing the scouts to keep a close eye on the Persian army's movements and report back at a moment's notice.

By afternoon, Davos received another update: the Persian forces had halted twenty li from Davos Camp. They had begun setting up their own camp to rest and had dispatched an envoy party of fewer than ten men, requesting an audience with the King of Daonia.

...

Tiribazus arrived before Davos Camp under the "escort" of Daionian cavalry. He stopped and gazed intently at the scene before him: the Davos Camp was incredibly crude, consisting of only a long dirt trench and an earthen wall just over a meter high. It could not compare to their camp in Syria at all, but for the camp's defenses to take shape in just two days proved that the Theonians were indeed masters of building fortifications.

Tiribazus secretly rejoiced that their grand army had arrived just in time. At the same time, he wondered: if the Daionian Army chose to turtle up and defend, how would his forces go about breaching this makeshift camp?

Lost in thought as he walked, he soon reached the camp gate.

Calling it a gate was generous; it was really just a gap in the earthen wall. Four heavily armed royal guards stood at the opening alongside Palace Secretary Henipolis.

"Welcome, envoy of Persia," Henipolis said. Despite the welcoming words, his face betrayed not a trace of warmth; he looked decidedly cold.

Tiribazus put on a bewildered expression. Realizing the man couldn't understand Greek, the polyglot Palace Secretary immediately repeated the greeting in Persian.

Only then did Tiribazus act as if he understood. He lifted his chin and replied, "I have come on the orders of my Great King to meet with your king—"

"His Majesty already knows why you are here and has agreed to see you. Follow me." Henipolis cut him off directly. He waved for the envoy to follow and turned back into the camp.

Tiribazus's face twitched. Swallowing his displeasure, he followed him inside. He immediately centered his mind and began carefully observing his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked, the camp appeared somewhat chaotic. The tents were pitched haphazardly and out of alignment, creating crooked, winding pathways between them. Many soldiers wandered among the tents in light clothing; some were even shirtless, lying flat on their backs by the paths to bask in the sun. Even when they saw the envoy party approaching, they didn't budge. Only after Henipolis barked at them did they reluctantly move out of the way...

Tiribazus could clearly hear them grumbling and complaining: "I've been working myself to death building this camp for days! I finally get a chance to lie down and rest, and they have to come bother me. What a pain!"

"He's just a petty official who writes documents for His Majesty! How dare he yell at me? Keep pushing me, and I'll slap him straight into the dirt!"

"If we're not marching, we're building camps. It never ends! We've already won enough wealth. Why are we even pushing east? We should just retreat!"

...

In truth, Tiribazus understood Greek perfectly well. He only pretended not to so he could fish out more of Davos Camp's true condition. He watched the Daionian official leading the way grow increasingly grim-faced, forced to grit his teeth and endure the insubordination. Eventually, Henipolis stopped ordering the lounging soldiers to make way altogether, which slowed the envoy party's progress to a crawl.

Tiribazus kept silent, deliberately wearing a mask of impatience.

They finally managed to cross one of the legion encampments, only to hear a commotion ahead. Dozens of soldiers had gathered in a mob. At first, they were just hurling insults, but soon they actually came to blows. Before long, heavily armed patrols arrived, swinging clubs to disperse the brawl.

"What happened here?" Tiribazus asked in feigned curiosity.

Trying to hide his embarrassment, Henipolis brushed it off. "Nothing, it's nothing. Uh... a bunch of soldiers had too much energy and started a private wrestling match. Things just got a little out of hand..."

Tiribazus didn't press the matter, but he had heard everything perfectly.

The reason was simple: the Daionian Army had to maintain firm control over the pontoon bridge across the Euphrates river to guarantee an unobstructed supply route.

When the army began constructing the camp, the soldiers discovered a problem: the surrounding area was a continuous plain covered in yellowing grass. While clusters of shrubs and reeds dotted the landscape, there wasn't a single tree in sight.

Unable to build wooden palisades, the men had no choice but to excavate extra dirt and ram it into earthen walls.

There were, of course, things for the soldiers to be happy about. The terrain here was exceptionally open, allowing the legions to spread their camps out completely. They didn't have to huddle tightly together with almost no room to maneuver, as they had in the narrow confines of Canaan and Syria—to say nothing of Phoenicia.

Another source of excitement was the abundance of wildlife living on the plains north of the City of Thapsacus. Herds of wild donkeys, antelopes, bustards, and even ostriches foraged across the vast expanse. They didn't panic or flee even when they spotted strangers in the distance; their swift legs and powerful wings were usually more than enough to evade human hunters.

While the rest of the Daionian Army built the camp, however, they deployed the Numidian Light Cavalry Legion, who were master hunters on the open plains. Over a thousand Numidian light cavalrymen used tactical encirclements to trap the wild donkeys and antelopes, shooting down bustards and ostriches with bows and arrows mid-chase. In just two days, they provided the soldiers with massive quantities of fresh meat.

Additionally, the cooks in the Supply Camp used nets to catch plenty of large sturgeon from the Euphrates river.

The donkey and antelope meat was nourishing, the bustard was tender, and the sturgeon was delicious; only the ostrich meat proved a bit tough. Ever since leaving Egypt, the Daionian Army had been fighting nonstop, and their original reserves of dried meat had long been depleted. Once they pushed inland, their daily rations had been reduced to gnawing on bread and drinking hot water. The soldiers had never expected to eat such delicacies within the ruined territory of the City of Thapsacus. The fine food washed away their exhaustion and filled them with fresh energy for their work.

Two days later, having hunted the animals near the camp to near extinction, the Numidian Cavalry had to ride much farther east to find new prey.

While chasing wild donkeys, one cavalry squad even pushed into the territory of Nisephonia. There, they stared in horror as a boundless, thick wall of dust rolled toward them, blocking out the sun and dimming the sky.

The great Persian army had arrived! Long before they could scramble back to camp in a panic to report it, the scout riders had already relayed the news to the royal tent.

Davos immediately ordered all legions to stand on high alert, instructing the scouts to keep a close eye on the Persian army's movements and report back at a moment's notice.

By afternoon, Davos received another update: the Persian forces had halted twenty li from the Daionian camp. They had begun setting up their own camp to rest and had dispatched an envoy party of fewer than ten men, requesting an audience with the King of Daonia.

...

Tiribazus arrived at the camp under the "escort" of Daionian cavalry. He stopped and gazed intently at the scene before him. The Daionian camp was incredibly crude, consisting of only a long dirt trench and a low earthen wall just over a meter high. It couldn't compare to their camp in Syria at all. Yet, to have their basic defenses take shape in just two days proved that the Theonians were indeed masters of building fortifications.

Tiribazus secretly rejoiced that their grand army had arrived just in time. At the same time, he wondered: if the Daionian Army chose to hold their ground and refuse battle, how would his forces go about breaching this makeshift camp?

Lost in thought as he walked, he soon reached the camp gate.

Calling it a gate was generous; it was really just a gap in the earthen wall. Four heavily armed royal guards stood at the opening alongside Palace Secretary Henipolis.

"Welcome, envoy of Persia," Henipolis said. Despite the welcoming words, his face betrayed not a trace of warmth; he looked decidedly cold.

Tiribazus put on a bewildered expression. Realizing the man couldn't understand Greek, the polyglot Palace Secretary immediately repeated the greeting in Persian.

Only then did Tiribazus act as if he understood. He lifted his chin and replied, "I have come on the orders of my Great King to meet with your king—"

"His Majesty already knows why you are here and has agreed to see you. Follow me." Henipolis cut him off directly. He waved for the envoy to follow and turned back into the camp.

Tiribazus's face twitched. Swallowing his displeasure, he followed him inside. He immediately centered his mind and began carefully observing his surroundings.

Everywhere he looked, the camp appeared somewhat chaotic. The tents were pitched haphazardly and out of alignment, creating crooked, winding pathways between them. Many soldiers wandered among the tents in light clothing; some were even shirtless, lying flat on their backs by the paths to bask in the sun. Even when they saw the envoy party approaching, they didn't budge. Only after Henipolis barked at them did they reluctantly move out of the way...

Tiribazus could clearly hear them grumbling and complaining: "I've been working myself to death building this camp for days! I finally get a chance to lie down and rest, and they have to come bother me. What a pain!"

"He's just a petty official who writes documents for His Majesty! How dare he yell at me? If he pisses me off, I'll slap him straight into the dirt!"

"If we're not marching, we're building camps. It never ends! We've already won enough wealth. Why are we even pushing east? We should just retreat!"

...

In truth, Tiribazus understood Greek perfectly well. He only pretended not to so he could uncover more of the Daionian camp's true condition. He watched the Daionian official leading the way grow increasingly grim-faced, forced to grit his teeth and endure the insubordination. Eventually, Henipolis stopped ordering the lounging soldiers to make way altogether, which slowed the envoy party's progress to a crawl.

Tiribazus kept silent, deliberately wearing a mask of impatience.

They finally managed to cross one of the legion encampments, only to hear a commotion ahead. Dozens of soldiers had gathered in a mob. At first, they were just hurling insults, but soon they actually came to blows. Before long, heavily armed patrols arrived, swinging clubs to disperse the brawl.

"What happened here?" Tiribazus asked in feigned curiosity.

Trying to hide his embarrassment, Henipolis brushed it off. "Nothing, it's nothing. Uh... a bunch of soldiers had too much energy and started a private wrestling match. Things just got a little out of hand..."

Tiribazus didn't press the matter, but he had heard everything perfectly. The two squads had broken out into a massive brawl over their hunting spoils.

When they finally reached the main tent of the Daionian Army, Tiribazus heard loud arguments spilling from inside. He listened closely. It sounded like they were debating whether or not to continue marching east.

"Your Majesty, I have brought the Persian envoy!" Henipolis shouted. The main tent quickly fell silent. Soon, a deep, powerful voice echoed from within. "Bring him in!"

Tiribazus stepped inside. He was met with the sight of twenty or thirty Daionian generals clad in heavy armor and helmets topped with bright crests. They twisted their heads to glare at the entrance with ruthless, predatory eyes. Seated high at the center of the tent was an old man, also in full armor but wearing a royal crown. His expression was stern and majestic.

Tiribazus took two steps forward, gave a slight bow, then threw his chest out and declared in a ringing voice: "Master of Persia, Mesopotamia, Armenia, Asia Minor, Egypt, Arabia, India, and all their lands; King of Kings; Son of Ahura Mazda—the Great King Artaxerxes has sent me to bring you, the esteemed King of Daonia, a letter written by his own hand, and he expects your reply!"

As soon as Tiribazus finished, Henipolis seamlessly translated his words into Greek.

Davos burst out laughing. "You misspoke just now. Your king is deceiving himself. He ought to know that he is no longer the master of Egypt, and as of now, Canaan, Phoenicia, Syria, and the greater part of Asia Minor no longer belong to Persia."

Hearing Henipolis's translation, Tiribazus replied with a calm expression. "The war has only just begun. It is far too early to say who will win and who will lose. In the end, Great King Artaxerxes might even become the master of Daionia!"

Hearing the translation, Davos's expression darkened slightly.

Before he could speak, a general beside him shot to his feet and bellowed, "You damned Persian! You dare come here and spout such nonsense? Are you not afraid I'll chop off your head and kick it around like a ball?"

Davos waved a hand. "Sit down, Matonis! It is a tradition that armies do not harm envoys during war. Do not let the Persians laugh at us Theonians for lacking manners."

Matonis ignored him, continuing to glare fiercely at Tiribazus.

"I said sit down!" Davos barked, his face turning ugly. He shouted a few more times before Matonis finally sat back down with bitter resentment.

Tiribazus took in every detail of the exchange.

A moment later, having calmed his emotions, Davos refused to show weakness. "Indeed, the war has just begun, and victory is undecided. Perhaps, in the end, all of Persia will belong to Daionia! Now, where is this letter Artaxerxes wrote me?"

Tiribazus immediately pulled the letter from his robes.

Davos glanced around at his men, then smiled in disdain. "I won't read it. Why don't you read it out loud for us? Let us all hear what this Persian king—who loses battles so frequently—has to say when faced with our mighty elite army."

The generals burst into a chorus of jeering laughter.

Hearing the translation, Tiribazus did not snap back. The savage glare of that Daionian general still left him a bit rattled. To avoid unnecessary trouble, he acted as if he hadn't heard the mockery. He unfolded the letter and read aloud with solemn gravity:

"From the Master of the Eastern Mediterranean and the King of Kings, to the King of Daonia of the Western Mediterranean. A few decades ago, Daionia was nothing but a petty state. Yet you are ruthless and inherently expansionist, never ceasing your invasion of other nations. You have grown strong through pillage and annexation, controlling other states through threats and bribery, leaving every neighboring city-state to fear for its life.

"Persia has always borne the heavy responsibility of maintaining order in the Mediterranean Sea. We have long intended to teach Daionia a lesson and return peace to the sea. We never imagined that Daionia would brazenly invade the borders of Persia, occupying my lands and slaughtering my people. The citizens are in terror, and the gods are furious! Today, I lead an army of a million men for vengeance. I have laid out a battlefield east of the territory of Thapsacus to wage a decisive battle against Daionia, completely settling the grudges between our two nations—do you dare to come?!"

Tiribazus heavily emphasized the final sentence, delivering each word with deliberate force.