Daniel watched from the walls of Sardis as smoke rose on the horizon.The Ionian Revolt had escalated beyond mere uprisings—it had become a full-scale war. The involvement of Athens and Eretria had emboldened the rebellious cities, and their fleets had landed in Asia Minor, bringing Greek soldiers to support the Ionian cause. Their participation had turned what was once a local rebellion into an unavoidable threat.
In Sardis, Persian officers and military commanders debated their next course of action. Artaphernes, the satrap of Lydia, stood at the center of the discussions, his face impassive as his officers presented their reports.
"The Athenians have sent twenty triremes, and Eretria five," one general announced. "They landed near Ephesus and joined forces with the rebels."
Another commander spoke: "The rebels are marching toward us, emboldened by their victories in smaller cities. If we don't prepare, they'll lay siege to Sardis."
The satrap exhaled sharply. "Darius will not tolerate this. He will send reinforcements, but we must hold until then. We cannot let Sardis fall."
Daniel listened carefully. He had read about these events before, but now he was living them. The Greeks and Ionians had already burned Sardis once, and history told them that, despite their initial successes, the rebellion would fail. However, knowing the outcome did not make survival any easier.
As days passed, the tension in Sardis grew. Daniel had his dinosaurs patrolling in secret, eliminating Greek scouts and spies. His Troodon, with its sharp vision and intelligence, had already intercepted messages between rebel leaders. He relayed these warnings to Artaphernes indirectly, careful not to reveal too much about how he had obtained the information.
When the Greek and Ionian forces finally arrived, they laid siege to the city. The walls of Sardis held strong, but supplies dwindled and morale faltered. Citizens whispered among themselves, some fearful, others hopeful for a Greek victory. Merchants who had once prospered under Persian rule now reconsidered their loyalties.
During a secret meeting between Ionian leaders in Miletus, Aristagoras—the instigator of the revolt—argued passionately:"Sardis must fall! If we break Persian control here, other cities will join us. We can drive them out of Ionia for good!"
The siege of Sardis dragged on for months. The Ionian rebels, encouraged by early success, tightened their grip on the city. Lacking the overwhelming strength to storm the Persian fortress outright, they relied on attrition—cutting off supplies and waiting for the defenders to weaken. Inside Sardis, the atmosphere was tense. Food was rationed, morale was low, and rumors of betrayal filled the narrow streets.
Daniel patrolled the inner defenses, inspecting fortifications he had helped reinforce. His mind teemed with possibilities—new ways to resist, unexpected tactics to buy them time. He had long accepted that his role was not to fight directly, but to guide and manipulate the battle in Sardis's favor. The Troodon he had unlocked—a cunning, swift predator—proved invaluable. It moved unseen through the ruins and outskirts, tracking enemy scouts and eliminating key threats. It was his silent blade in the dark.
Artabanes, now one of the city's key commanders, approached him near the barracks. "Your predictions were correct," he murmured. "The rebels are advancing to cut off our last supply line. If we don't act soon, we'll starve."
Daniel nodded. "Then let's make them think we're weaker than we are. Let them grow overconfident. If they strike recklessly, we can defeat them."
It was a risky plan—but it might work. He spent the following days advising Persian officers, subtly introducing small but crucial innovations: fortified barricades, hidden traps, and distraction tactics that kept the enemy off-balance. Meanwhile, his Troodon continued gathering intelligence, pinpointing weaknesses in the enemy camp.
The battle for Sardis escalated when the Ionian rebels launched a full-scale assault. Guided by Daniel's foresight, the city's defenders repelled the attack with minimal losses. His strategies earned him further recognition, though he remained an enigma to many in Sardis. Some Persian officials still regarded him with suspicion, wary of trusting a foreigner, but his usefulness was undeniable.
Among the rebels, doubts began to surface. Hecataeus of Miletus, a historian and advisor, voiced his concern:"Even if we take Sardis, Darius will not abandon Asia Minor. He will return with overwhelming force. We must consider diplomacy."
The debate continued, but the decision had already been made. The Ionian army pressed on, determined to take Sardis. For weeks, battles raged outside the city walls. The Greeks fought fiercely, and their hoplites proved formidable in open combat, but the Persians—with their cavalry and archers—countered their every move.
Eventually, the tide turned. Reinforcements sent by Darius arrived: a vast Persian army marching from the heart of the empire. The Greeks and Ionians, realizing they were vastly outnumbered, began to retreat—but not before Sardis had suffered greatly. The city had held, but it was a costly victory.
Though the rebellion dragged on for another three years, Persian forces crushed city after city. Miletus, the heart of the revolt, fell in 494 BCE, marking the end of Ionian resistance. Athens and Eretria, after suffering defeats, withdrew their support, leaving the Ionians to face Persian wrath alone.
Daniel, still in Sardis, had earned Artafernes's trust. His warnings had proven true, and his strategic insight had saved the city from disaster. Yet he knew his involvement in Persian affairs had not gone unnoticed. Even Darius himself had heard of the "foreigner" aiding the satraps.
Daniel was about to meet the Great King. He would have to choose his next step carefully.
The great hall of Sardis was alive with the flickering light of hundreds of oil lamps, their glow reflecting off polished bronze and golden ornaments.The air was rich with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and exotic delicacies from across the empire. The banquet had been called to celebrate the suppression of the Ionian Revolt, a victory earned through five years of relentless campaigning. Now, at last, Persian dominance over Anatolia was secure once more.
Seated at the head of the hall, King Darius observed his officers, generals, and noble guests with measured composure. His empire had overcome many challenges, and he knew that the recent troubles were only a prelude to even greater conflicts. The Greeks had meddled in his affairs, aiding the Ionian rebels. That transgression could not go unanswered.
Among the many guests, one figure stood out—not for his wealth or rank, but for the intrigue that surrounded him. Daniel, the foreigner who had aided in the defense of Sardis, was now twenty-one years old. Over the years, he had proven invaluable—advising on fortifications, coordinating supply lines, and even using unconventional methods to eliminate enemy spies. His status had risen considerably, though some still regarded him with suspicion.
As the banquet progressed, the conversations turned to more serious matters. The intervention of Athens and Eretria in the revolt was a central topic. Some, like Satrap Artaphernes, pushed for immediate retaliation, arguing that Greece needed to learn the cost of defying Persia. Others, like the cautious General Otanes, suggested consolidating Persian control in the region before embarking on new campaigns.
Daniel listened closely, mentally weighing each speaker's words. When Darius finally turned his attention to him, the hall fell silent.
"Daniel," the king said, his voice deep and commanding. "You have served well during these years of war. Sardis stands in part because of your contributions. Tell me—what is your opinion of the Greeks? How should we deal with them?"
Daniel took a deep breath before speaking."Great King, the Greeks are divided. Athens and Eretria acted rashly, but their involvement did not represent full commitment from all of Greece. If your armies move swiftly, you could deter the rest of the Hellenes from joining future conflicts. However, if they are left unchecked, their defiance may spread. They are ambitious, and their city-states thrive on war."
Darius nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed. Their punishment must be severe. And you, foreigner who has aided us so well—what do you seek as a reward for your service?"
A hush fell over the banquet as all eyes turned to Daniel. He had awaited this moment. Though he already possessed wealth and status, he needed a foundation—something that would allow him to carve out a lasting place in this world.
"Great King," Daniel began cautiously, "I seek a city to govern—one that may serve as both fortress and gateway to greater projects. I have heard much of the city of Byzantium, a place with great potential. If it pleases you..."
Murmurs spread throughout the hall. To ask for Byzantium, a strategic city on the Bosphorus, was bold—perhaps too bold.
Darius raised a hand, silencing the voices. "Your ambition is clear. But Byzantium is not yet ours. That city remains in Greek hands, and its value is too great to be granted lightly."
Daniel kept a neutral expression. He had expected this answer, but the seed had been planted. Instead of showing disappointment, he bowed his head slightly."I understand, Great King. Then, if it pleases you, I would request the city of Cyzicus."
Darius regarded him for a long moment before nodding."Cyzicus... a city of commercial and naval importance. Yes, it is within my power to grant it. Let it be known that Daniel, who has served faithfully, shall govern Cyzicus in my name. May he continue to prove his worth."
The decision was made. Though some at court remained skeptical of the foreigner's growing influence, others recognized his potential. The banquet resumed, and as the night wore on, Daniel allowed himself a small smile. His place in this world was becoming secure—but he knew the true challenges were only beginning.