The Rise Of An Empire In Ancient Europe-Chapter 8 - Juleios the Divine Favorite: A Journey of Ingenuity and Survival

Juleios realized that to change their perceptions, he needed to prove his ideas with actions, not just words. He called on Georgilos to help him retrieve a cow stomach from the baggage camp. At a nearby creek, they painstakingly washed it clean. Using a clay pot, Juleios boiled water, scalded the stomach, and sliced it with his military knife.

By this point, five skeptical soldiers, partially swayed by Orivus' words, along with a growing crowd of curious onlookers, had gathered in a loose circle around him.

Calm and deliberate, Juleios ladled several scoops of broth from another pot where beef and lamb were already cooking. Once the broth boiled, he added the sliced stomach. After a short time, he sprinkled in some salt and served up a simple dish of boiled tripe.

"Go ahead, give it a try," he urged.

Matonis hesitated, spearing a piece with his knife. He blew on it, took a tentative bite, and chewed thoughtfully. Ignoring the questioning gazes of the crowd, he said nothing but reached for another piece... then another. Before the others could react, Matonis grabbed the pot and ran off, ignoring the heat.

"Hey, leave some for us!" the soldiers shouted, chasing after him amidst a chorus of laughter.

Juleios couldn't help but laugh. Matonis' antics lightened the tense atmosphere, and the success of his experiment was clear.

"Looks like offal isn't just edible—it's delicious," Xilos remarked, who had refrained from joining the chase.

Juleios nodded silently. He knew not all offal was as palatable as tripe, but it was highly nutritious. In this pre-industrial era, the risk of contamination was minimal.

"But the meat we've been given is already enough for today," Xilos said, gesturing to the cooking pots. "In this heat, the offal will spoil by tomorrow."

Juleios had already considered this. He pointed to discarded sheep intestines and said, "We can make smoked sausages."

The soldiers stared at him blankly. "Smoked... sausages?"

By the time the others returned, their gazes at Juleios had shifted. Tasting the tripe convinced them of his ingenuity. Combined with Orivus' embellishments, their awe deepened. How could anyone but a divine favorite realize discarded parts could be edible and transform them into something delicious? To them, it had to be the work of Hades.

Directing their work became much easier. Despite the foul smell, the soldiers followed Juleios' instructions, washing intestines in the creek, chopping up offal and leftover meat, stuffing it into the cleaned intestines, and tying the ends with linen thread. They hung the sausages on wooden racks and smoked them over fires.

This sausage-making method was something Juleios had learned in his past life as a village official. Though simplified due to limited resources, it was enough to preserve the meat for several extra days.

The sight of the soldiers bustling about making sausages naturally attracted a crowd. Thanks to Orivus, Matonis, and others' exaggerations, stories of "Juleios the Divine Favorite" began spreading throughout Menon's camp.

By noon, news arrived: the Persian King had sent envoys to negotiate a surrender, but the leaders refused.

Later that afternoon, another message came. Ariaeus' envoys returned, announcing that Ariaeus had refused to attack the Persian King's army. He wished only to return to Asia Minor and offered to retreat alongside the Greek mercenaries.

When Juleios' prediction was confirmed, no one seemed surprised anymore.

Soon after, another report arrived: Cleisophus planned to offer a sacrifice to Zeus to seek the god's will on whether to fight or retreat. Juleios found it amusing. This was clearly a way for the leaders to shift responsibility, yet his companions awaited the results with utmost seriousness. He reminded himself that judging ancient practices with modern sensibilities wasn't entirely fair.

Unfavorable omens were received, and the leaders issued a command: the mercenaries would regroup with Ariaeus and retreat together to Asia Minor. The soldiers were ordered to pack their belongings and load their supplies onto carts. Once night fell and the signal horns were blown, each camp would set out in turn.

The camp buzzed with tension, but everyone's faces showed a hint of relief. After eight or nine months of hardship, the thought of returning home brought hope. No one wanted to linger in hostile territory any longer.

"Can we take the sausages down now?" Xilos asked.

Juleios glanced at the dozens of sausages still smoking and shook his head. "We'll take them down before we leave tonight." He knew they hadn't been smoked long enough, but every additional moment would help them last longer.

As the soldiers dismantled tents and packed their gear, Juleios watched carefully, observing and learning from their efficient movements. He sought to turn the body's memories into instinctive habits.

At the baggage camp, Juleios noticed a plump man barking orders, directing the loading of supplies with remarkable efficiency.

"Who's that?" Juleios asked, pointing.

"Melsys, Menon's logistics officer," Orivus replied with a scowl. "That fat pig overcharges for everything! Last time I came here looking for women, he charged me two silver coins!"

Juleios studied the man thoughtfully, noting the orderliness of the camp under his command. "Have we ever marched at night before?"

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"Rarely," Xilos answered. "Without moonlight, it's too dark. Even with it, moving at night is tough. The animals get spooked easily and cause accidents. That's why the baggage train usually travels separately."

Juleios handed his belongings to Xilos and strode toward the logistics officer. "Hey! Come back! Melsys isn't someone to mess with!" Orivus shouted.

Ignoring the warning, Juleios approached Melsys, calling out loudly, "Melsys, I can solve the problem of animals getting startled at night!"

The soldiers turned to look, murmuring among themselves.

"Isn't that Juleios? He's the one who made the sausages!"

"A divine favorite," someone added reverently.

Hearing the chatter, Juleios knew he had their attention.

"You can solve the animal problem?" Melsys asked skeptically, stepping closer.

"Simple. Blindfold them. Cows and horses are naturally docile but easily startled. When they can't see, they'll stay calm and follow their handlers," Juleios explained confidently.

Melsys raised an eyebrow. "That's it? We'll try it. Juleios, you should visit me more often. If you need anything—even women—just ask. It's on the house."

Juleios chuckled, finding the plump man surprisingly earnest. As Melsys barked orders to his men to prepare blindfolds, Juleios lingered for a moment, studying the logistics officer's efficiency. The camp, chaotic on the surface, moved like a well-rehearsed machine under his direction. Juleios made a mental note—people like Melsys, with practical skills and influence, could be valuable allies.

As he walked back to his companions, Matonis caught up with him. "I don't know how you do it, but every time you talk, people listen."

"It's not magic," Juleios replied with a smirk. "It's simply knowing what they need and offering a solution."

Matonis laughed. "If this keeps up, they'll call you the favorite of all the gods, not just Hades."

Juleios glanced toward the horizon, where the first stars were beginning to appear. "Let them call me what they want. For now, we need to prepare for the march ahead."