Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 4: Davos

“Yes, your highness!” Tissaphernes couldn't help but glance at Masabates, thinking, ‘No wonder this fellow looks so unpleasant. If the Queen Mother Parysatis discovers her most cherished son was beheaded and his hands severed, she will certainly not let this matter rest.’

“Tissaphernes, do you believe the Greeks will yield?”

“Your highness!… From what I understand of the main leaders of the Greek mercenaries, I fear… it might be difficult. However, there might be a small contingent willing to comply with your majesty’s decree!” Tissaphernes replied cautiously.

“Fomenting discord among them is also a viable strategy.” Artaxerxes ran a finger across his jaw. The fierce charge of the Greek hoplites yesterday had left him with a lingering sense of dread. “…If they refuse to surrender, then they must be… driven out. This rebellion has already cost the lives of too many Persians! I will not permit these uncivilized and savage Greeks to continue pillaging my lands and slaughtering my people!” Artaxerxes sighed. He possessed a gentle disposition and disliked confrontation, which explained why he had tolerated Cyrus the Younger for so long, ultimately leading to this great conflict. Even when Cyrus the Younger mobilized his army, Artaxerxes had wavered, inclined to retreat eastward. It was only through the firm counsel and unwavering support of his ministers that the battle of yesterday even took place.

“Your highness, your affection for the empire’s people is akin to that of a parent for their own children! It is a profound blessing for the empire to have such a benevolent ruler as yourself!” Tissaphernes spoke from the heart. Indeed, Artaxerxes' character had garnered the allegiance of the vast majority of ministers and nobles, preventing Cyrus the Younger's rebellion from causing significant upheaval in the empire's core territories.

“Your highness, I have an idea!… It would be best to compel the Greeks northward…” Tissaphernes suggested.

Artaxerxes contemplated this, aware that Tissaphernes was keen to prevent the Greeks from once again encroaching upon his domain – Asia Minor.

“Northward…” His eyes brightened as he recalled the stubborn and defiant mountain tribes, such as the Carducians.

‘Let them contend with those barbarians!’ he mused, a smile gracing his lips.

“You shall be solely responsible for this undertaking! I await your successful report in Persepolis!” With that, he felt an urgency to return home, spurred by news from the previous day of another disturbance in eastern Persepolis. He needed to reach the capital city as swiftly as possible. Furthermore, he found himself yearning for his queen, Stateira.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

As dawn broke, a pervasive mist shrouded the Cunaxa region, and the entire Greek encampment lay in quietude, with most soldiers still lost in slumber.

Davos emerged from his tent, casting a curious gaze upon the unfamiliar surroundings.

Indeed, he was no longer the original Davos; his soul hailed from 21st-century China. Once a diligent civil servant, he had toiled for over a decade before achieving the position of director in the city's high-tech development zone. A celebratory feast, organized by his friends to mark his promotion, had led to him becoming quite inebriated. However, upon awakening, he found himself in an alien place, inhabiting another's body.

He had repeatedly pinched his own thighs, desperate to confirm if he was dreaming, and even now, the soreness lingered.

Following a night of adjustment and drawing upon his considerable resilience, he no longer dwelled on the 'why' of his transmigration. Early in his career, having secured the top rank in the city-wide civil service examination, he was initially assigned to a remote and impoverished mountainous area as a village official, serving there for several years. Yet, he persevered, earning the favor of county leaders through his exceptional performance, which eventually led to his recall for a significant assignment.

…It was simply that his parents and his fiancée, whom he was soon to marry… were now separated by the unbridgeable chasm of time and space, destined never to meet again… He drew a deep breath, attempting to banish the sorrow.

He ambled a short distance, seeking to calm his racing thoughts. After wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, he admonished himself, ‘Now that I have arrived in a new world, I must strive to live tenaciously.’

From the memories inherited by this body, he understood that “he” was a Thessalian. Two years prior, at the age of seventeen, driven by dire financial straits, he had ventured out with his village companions to seek mercenary work and earn money. A year ago, following a conflict between Macedon and Thessaly, Macedonian cavalry had attacked his hometown, leading to the death of his parents and the capture of his relatives; he was now alone. Currently, he was serving under the mercenary commander Meno, fighting for the Persian Prince Cyrus the Younger.

While his companions assumed he was completely asleep last night, he was, in fact, a keen listener to their discussion, gleaning valuable insights into their current predicament. As a promising youth in the 21st century, he could hardly be considered a mere impatient adolescent. During his tenure as a village official, he had dedicated much of his time to perusing online forums, a personal coping mechanism for enduring the long, solitary nights on military discussion boards, which had nearly morphed into a hobby. Consequently, his knowledge of history and military affairs was quite substantial, leading him to surmise that he had likely transmigrated to a period following the tumultuous Peloponnesian War.

Regarding the Greek mercenaries who aided the Persian prince in his bid for the throne, what specific segment of Western history did this involve? As an individual whose professional life bore no relation to historical studies, he found the matter too complex to recall immediately, the demands being exceedingly high. It wasn't until someone uttered the pivotal phrase, “We are the ten thousand Greek infantry,” that a deeply buried memory began to surface.

Those online forums had once stressed the importance of reading certain texts to comprehend ancient Western history. Among the recommended works was 《Anabasis》, a title that piqued his curiosity: ‘Did the ancient West also experience a protracted march?’ Given that the author was a renowned historical figure he recognized, he promptly conducted an online search. It was then that he discovered the event's origin lay in the famed ancient Western historical episode, the “Retreat of the Ten Thousand Greeks.”

Davos, recalling vaguely that the rebellious prince met his demise in the incident due to his impetuous actions, inadvertently blurted out his foreknowledge in a moment of heightened tension. However, his companions, who harbored a degree of hope for Cyrus the Younger's success and a shared aspiration for significant gains, were utterly unable to accept his prediction.

Confronted by a barrage of questioning, he was reluctant to instigate conflict with his newfound companions, especially so soon after his arrival. Perhaps a flicker of hope within him entertained the possibility, ‘maybe this isn't the exact historical event after all.’ Consequently, he chose to remain silent.

The outcome was a shared sense of dissatisfaction amongst them all. That night, sleep eluded him; the alien environment coupled with the gnawing fear of the unknown future caused him to toss and turn incessantly, making it a arduous task to find rest.

As dawn broke, he emerged from his tent, confronting this strange new world for the very first time. His gaze swept across a seemingly endless expanse of tents stretching as far as the eye could see.

Drawing in the moist, fresh air, he mustered his courage and proceeded onward. He occasionally encountered individuals emerging from their tents and offered a polite greeting, which he reciprocated with a smile. The warriors who were aware of his injury inquired about his condition with genuine concern; he would pause to express his gratitude and seize the opportunity to engage in conversation, thereby extracting information from them. It was evident that his amiable reception was not due to any prominent status he held. Rather, it stemmed from the fact that many within Meno's mercenary contingent were from Thessaly, and numerous among them had fought alongside him for over two years, fostering a sense of familiarity. As he continued his perambulation, the feeling of unfamiliarity gradually receded.

From a nearby source came the distinct sounds of horses whinnying and sheep bleating, drawing his attention in that direction. In Davos's recollection, this expansive area, delineated by a wooden palisade and situated at the heart of their military encampment, constituted the mercenary camp under Meno's command. Beyond the numerous packed horses and mules, the enclosure housed a collection of cattle and sheep, spoils of their journey, along with a consignment of provisions supplied by Cyrus the Younger to Meno. Furthermore, resident merchants occupied a portion of the space, and when passing through major cities, locals would often frequent this area to pursue commercial opportunities.

However, upon reaching the entrance, a guard armed with spears intercepted his advance.

“No one enters without Meno’s explicit authorization!” a portly man bellowed from behind the guard.

Davos cast a glance at him and turned away, preferring to avoid any potential trouble. Behind him, he could faintly make out the portly man berating the guards, “The next time someone approaches, you must be more assertive. Otherwise, you'll never deter these pilferers! From last night until now, we’ve already lost five sheep. Before Meno can hold me accountable, I’ll punish you first!”

‘It appears the mercenaries are facing a significant scarcity of provisions!’ He had no way of knowing the extent of the Persian troops' plunder from the previous day, a thought that occupied his mind as he walked. Unbeknownst to him, a rudimentary barrier, constructed from branches and sticks loosely embedded in the earth, brought his progress to a halt. Though dense rows of tents still lay ahead, he realized they belonged to the encampments of other mercenary factions.

As the sun climbed to its zenith, the thick fog finally began to dissipate, revealing a distant vista. Underneath the expansive heavens, Davos savored the crisp breeze for a time… From the conversations of his companions, the city before them was identified as Babylon, with the Euphrates River lying not far off. One represented the ancient capital of a great civilization, famed for the legendary Hanging Gardens that sparked such longing, while the other was the renowned mother river of Mesopotamia. Yet, he remained uncertain if an opportunity would arise to witness them.

However, the sudden commotion within the camp served as a jarring interruption, filling his mind with a burgeoning sense of unease as he hurried back.

At this moment, soldiers streamed out of their tents, their faces etched with nervousness and disquiet as they exchanged urgent words. The message that reached his ears was stark and chilling, reducible to four fateful words: Cyrus the Younger is dead!

A heavy weight settled in his heart. This truly was the beginning of the Great Retreat of the Ten Thousand Greeks! The days ahead would be consumed by a desperate flight!

1. Parysatis – the mother of the Persian king Artaxerxes II, Cyrus the Younger, Ostanes, and Oxathres.

2. Anabasis – the literary work penned by Xenophon chronicling their arduous journey across Persia, also recognized as The March of the Ten Thousand.

3. The Retreat of the Ten Thousand Greeks – the historical event that transpired following the demise of Cyrus the Younger, compelling the Greek forces to embark on a perilous withdrawal back to their homeland.

4. Hanging Garden – enumerated among the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World by Hellenic tradition, it was described as an astonishing feat of architectural ingenuity, featuring a magnificent series of terraced gardens laden with a diverse array of flora, resembling a colossal verdant mountain constructed from mud bricks, purportedly erected within the ancient metropolis of Babylon.