The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 23 - A Sudden Turn of Events

From both sides of the tent, over twenty burly men charged out and pinned Clearchus and the four other commanders to the ground, tying them up immediately with ropes.

Outside, the waiting officers and soldiers were surrounded by fully armed Persian warriors wielding sharp blades, spears, and large shields. The weaponless Greeks were cut down one by one.

"Congratulations, Governor, your plan has succeeded!" Laughter echoed through the large tent.

Candles were lit, restoring the dim tent to full brightness. Clearchus looked toward the center of the tent, where Tissaphernes, Orontas, and Asistes stood laughing smugly. His fury boiled over, his eyes nearly bursting with rage.

"Tissaphernes! You despicable, shameless villain! Aren't you afraid of divine retribution upon your family?" he roared.

"Heh, heh, heh..." Tissaphernes sipped from a goblet of wine handed to him by an attendant, savoring it as he leisurely approached the Greek commanders. "Clearchus, let me tell you this: your gods will not punish me. I believe The Divine will reward me instead!" he declared, raising his voice. "After all, I have captured and will kill a band of barbarians who invaded Persian territory and slaughtered Persian citizens. Mazda will commend me for such service. Oh, and let me inform you—those rumors in your camp? I was the one who spread them!"

Clearchus's face froze in shock as Tissaphernes, grinning, downed the rest of his wine in one gulp.

Proxenus spat furiously at Tissaphernes, who deftly dodged it.

"Liar! Coward!" Proxenus shouted in a torrent of curses.

Unperturbed, Tissaphernes smiled with satisfaction. "Liar? Coward? Oh no, no! I prefer to call it wisdom! Unlike you Greeks, who only know brute force, we Persians use our minds to achieve greater victories with fewer sacrifices! You wanted peace so desperately, fearing a return to tension and hostility. So, I sent soldiers to provoke fights with your mercenaries—insults, brawls, everything. Then, I spread rumors. Naturally, you suspected each other, not me! And who did you suspect? Menon, am I right?"

Tissaphernes sneered as his eyes swept over the captured commanders. "You see, Clearchus, I know all the cracks in your so-called alliance. And I also knew you were a responsible leader. The more conflict occurred, the more worried you would become, making you eager to negotiate. And here you are! Not only did you come to me, but you also brought me such a generous gift!"

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"Just kill us and stop talking!" Clearchus roared, his face red with anger.

"Governor Tissaphernes, spare me! Please spare my life!" Menon suddenly begged, writhing on the ground. "Make me your slave if you wish. I'll even persuade those foolish mercenaries to surrender to you!"

"Anything?" Tissaphernes asked with mock curiosity, his eyes narrowing. "Then start by barking like a dog."

"Woof! Woof! Woof!" Menon barked loudly, his face full of desperate obedience.

"Behold, the so-called 'barbarians' of Greece!" The Persians in the tent burst into laughter.

"Menon, shut your mouth!" Clearchus and the others shouted in shame, their faces burning with humiliation.

Menon ignored them, crawling on his knees, looking up at Tissaphernes with ingratiating eyes.

"Very good. Excellent!" Tissaphernes clapped his hands and walked toward Menon.

Menon, hands tied behind his back, squatted on the ground, wagging his tongue and barking even more enthusiastically.

Tissaphernes stopped in front of him, gave him a sinister smile, and suddenly drew his sword. With one swift motion, he brought it down on Menon's neck.

Gasps filled the room as blood sprayed everywhere. Menon's head rolled to the ground, his face frozen in disbelief.

"Fool! Did you think I didn't know how you slandered me to Darius the Younger and even led troops to attack my estate?" Tissaphernes growled, planting his boot on Menon's severed head. His face, splattered with blood, was as cold and merciless as a god of death.

The remaining four commanders stared blankly at the headless corpse. Even Clearchus, who had always detested Menon, was overcome with sorrow—a grief that transcended hatred, a feeling of shared doom.

"Preserve this head and send it along with these four criminals to Persepolis immediately for the King's judgment!" Tissaphernes commanded.

As the four commanders were dragged away, Socrates lamented regretfully, "If only we'd listened to that young man on the way..."

Clearchus remained silent, his face expressionless.

"Governor, Ariæus requests an audience," an attendant announced.

"Let him in."

Ariæus entered the tent, hesitating slightly when he saw the pool of blood on the floor. Tissaphernes greeted him with a smirk. "That's Menon's blood. I chopped off his head with one strike just now."

"By Rashnu above," Ariæus stammered, invoking the Persian god of justice, "he deserved such punishment!" Glancing at Tissaphernes's amused expression, he quickly added, "Governor, I have followed your orders and sent cavalry to eliminate all wandering Greek soldiers outside the camp."

"Excellent! I will report your contributions to the King," Tissaphernes replied, knowing that he needed both to intimidate and win over Cyrus's former followers. With nearly 10,000 troops still under Ariæus's command, they were essential allies for the governor's plans in Asia Minor.

"Now that the Greek mercenaries' leaders are captured, those foolish Greeks must be in complete disarray. Go with Asistes to their camp and find a way to make them surrender."

Antonius hoped to have the soldiers escort Juleios back to Menon's camp, believing that no one would dare harm Juleios there. However, Juleios refused. Instead, he agreed to the soldiers' demand to go to Clearchus's camp, the forward base located closest to the Persians. It was the best place to receive the first signs of any news.

Juleios asked Xilos to fetch Xenophon and sent Antonius back to Menon's camp to prepare defenses. Then, pulling Matonis aside, he whispered something in his ear. Matonis looked at him in surprise but ultimately nodded.

Watching Xilos and the others leave, Juleios suppressed his growing anxiety and walked toward Clearchus's camp. On the way, a soldier escorting him asked nervously, "Do you really think Clearchus is in danger?"

Juleios answered with a question of his own, "If Clearchus isn't here, who's in charge of your camp?"

"The First Company's captain, Timasion," the soldier replied.

"Then you'd better warn him to prepare the defenses," Juleios advised.

Before they could discuss further, a guard pointed ahead and shouted in alarm, "Look! Persian cavalry!"

Juleios and the soldiers turned to see a massive group of Persian horsemen galloping back and forth just 100 meters from the camp, kicking up a storm of dust. Amid the swirling haze, screams echoed faintly.

"What... what is this?" The soldiers turned to Juleios, their faces pale with fear.

Juleios felt no satisfaction in seeing his predictions come true. War was now inevitable, and the weight of that realization filled him with dread.

"Quick! Get back to the camp!" he ordered, rushing the soldiers to retreat and shut the gates behind them.

As the dust cleared slightly, a wounded soldier emerged from the chaos, clutching his bleeding abdomen as he staggered toward the camp.

The guards and Juleios hurried to help him inside.

"On... our way to the market... Persian cavalry... ambushed us... most of the brothers are dead... Achilles... warn Achilles... danger..." the soldier murmured weakly before collapsing.

As the crisis unfolds, what steps will Juleios take? And what mission did he give to Matonis? The story continues—stay tuned and keep supporting!