The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 13 - The Healing and Encounter

"Giorgilos, hold Asistes down for me."

"Helpus, fold the linen soaked in cold water and place it on his forehead. Use another piece to keep wiping down the sides of his neck."

"Xilos, dry the area around the wound with a piece of linen sterilized in boiling water."

"Take the knife out of the boiling water and heat it again over the fire."

As Juleios received the small knife, he hesitated. The steps so far were basic—things any modern person would know. But this wound was a wedge-shaped cut, requiring debridement. His only knowledge of this process came from watching barefoot doctors in his previous life in the countryside, where hospitals were too far to reach. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Giorgis, hold him down tightly!" With that, he used the knife to make an incision.

"He's calmed down!" Helpus exclaimed in surprise and relief.

Juleios wiped the sweat from his forehead. Looking at the now-still Asistes, he secretly sighed in relief. "Keep wiping his forehead and neck with cool water. And... watch the linen on the wound. If it gets soaked with pus again, clean it like I showed you before."

"Understood, Juleios!" Helpus replied with the reverence of a student speaking to a teacher.

Juleios glanced at the small piece of wood he had extracted from deep within the wound. A sense of accomplishment surged within him. He, Xilos, and Giorgis stepped outside, only to be swarmed by anxious onlookers asking about Asistes.

"He's much better now!" Giorgis announced proudly.

The crowd erupted in cheers of astonishment.

Juleios quickly addressed them. "Asistes is not out of danger yet. The next two days will be the most critical. He must rely on himself to fight the infection. Helpus will follow my instructions and care for him diligently."

Turning to Antonio, he added, "Make sure your nephew drinks plenty of water. But remember—no raw water. Boil it first and let it cool. Once he's a bit more alert, give him some oatmeal porridge."

"But he might vomit it back up," Antonios said, looking worried.

"Then feed him again," Juleios said with a sigh. "He's lost too much strength and needs food to recover." Scanning the crowd, he added, "Asistes needs peace and quiet. Don't let anyone disturb him."

Antonio nodded earnestly, jotting everything down. After a pause, he couldn't help but ask, "If we do everything right, will Asistes recover?"

Juleios hesitated. In his former life, a simple antibiotic would have solved this problem. But in this primitive era, lacking medicine and advanced tools, he could not guarantee success. Finally, he said, "We'll do our best. In the end, it's up to him."

The crowd's admiring gazes made Juleios uncomfortable. He quickly excused himself and left.

When Juleios and his group returned to their quarters, they saw Matonis dragging someone by the arm.

"Hey, Juleios, you're finally back!" Matonis exclaimed. "I brought Xenophon for you!"

Xenophon? Juleios's eyes widened in surprise, and the man being dragged stared back at him.

In Juleios's view, Xenophon was around thirty years old, not particularly tall, with typical Greek features: black curly hair, a high nose bridge, and a square face framed by a thick beard. What stood out was his wide forehead and a pair of lively, inquisitive eyes.

Xenophon, on the other hand, was somewhat disappointed to see that Juleios was a young man, almost boyish. However, he quickly noticed the peculiar respect the older men around Juleios showed him, as if he were their leader. This observation intrigued him.

"You're Xenophon of Athens?" Juleios asked.

"Yes," Xenophon replied.

"A student of Socrates?"

"Indeed." Xenophon's curiosity deepened. He was well known in Athens, but few here in the camp knew his connection to Socrates. Most of the Greek mercenaries came from impoverished regions like Ionia, Thessaly, and Thrace—men who had no land or means to live, many of whom were illiterate. Few would recognize Socrates, let alone an obscure student of his.

"Who taught you?" Xenophon asked Juleios.

"I can't read or write a single word of Greek," Juleios admitted without hesitation.

His response caught Xenophon off guard. The calm confidence with which Juleios stated his illiteracy made it impossible for Xenophon to feel any disdain.

"Juleios, I went around the other camps today and heard that Proxenus had someone named Xenophon. I brought him over, thinking it must be him," Matonis explained, clearly expecting praise.

"Thank you, Matonis!" Juleios said sincerely. He appreciated the effort Matonis had put into fulfilling what he had thought was a casual remark. Turning to Xenophon, he added, "Matonis is a very warm-hearted person. Spend some time with him, and you'll see."

Matonis scratched his head in embarrassment.

Xenophon understood Juleios's subtle apology and shrugged to show he didn't mind. Fixing his gaze on Juleios, he asked, "So, is it true? Are you really a 'favored of the gods'?"

"What do you think? On Persian soil, do you believe the gods still favor the Greeks?" Juleios countered.

"Of course!" Xenophon answered without hesitation. "No matter where we are, the gods never abandon us! I'm here because of a prophecy from Apollo."

Xenophon's firm belief surprised Juleios. Wasn't it said that the more knowledgeable someone was, the more they relied on themselves and leaned toward atheism? He realized he had underestimated the Greeks' reverence for their gods.

"What prophecy from Apollo?" Juleios asked curiously.

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Xenophon eagerly recounted his story.

Six months earlier, Xenophon had received a letter from his friend Proxenus, inviting him to join a Persian expedition. In the letter, Proxenus praised Prince Darius the Younger as a great man, friendly to the Greeks, who was recruiting talented Greeks for his cause. Proxenus had already joined Darius's service and promised to recommend Xenophon to the prince.

At that time, Athens was recovering from the brutal rule of the Thirty Tyrants imposed by Sparta. The restored democracy was stabilizing, and Athens had made peace with Sparta. With the city calm, Xenophon was eager to broaden his horizons in Asia Minor. However, he hesitated and sought advice from his teacher, Socrates. Socrates, concerned that associating with Darius—Sparta's ally in the war against Athens—might lead to repercussions, advised Xenophon to seek guidance from Apollo's oracle at Delphi.

Xenophon asked the oracle which god he should pray to for success and safe return. The oracle named a deity, and after offering sacrifices as instructed, Xenophon set sail for Asia Minor and joined Proxenus's forces.

"What deity did the oracle name?" Oliver interrupted, unable to contain his curiosity.

Xenophon turned to Juleios and, with deliberate clarity, said, "Ha—des."