The Etruscan (37 page)

Arsinoe beat her knees with her fists and shouted angrily, “At least she has my eyes! The goddess was spiteful to let the poor girl inherit Mikon’s short stature, but perhaps her limbs will yet straighten. Let it be as you wish, Turms, but it is all your fault for leaving me alone for days at a time. Poor Mikon loved me so bitterly that I could not help pitying him now and then, although I certainly didn’t intend to become pregnant. Even that is your fault for taking me away from Segesta so quickly that my silver ring remained behind.”

Noticing my calmness, she began to chatter in relief. “Mikon boasted so often of his experiences on the golden ship of Astarte that I was tempted to show him what else a man can experience in a woman’s arms. He believed himself irresistible because Aura lost consciousness at his touch, but that was just her weakness. He could not compete with you in that respect, Turms, although he had his pleasing features.”

“I don’t doubt that!” I shouted, finally losing my temper. “I understand and forgive everything, but what is wrong with me? Am I sterile or does someone else always manage to dabble in the spring at full moon ahead of me?”

Arsinoe thought for a moment. “I think you really must be sterile but don’t let it trouble you. A man who is given to meditation doesn’t need children and in our times many a man might envy you for having everything without assuming responsibility for the consequences. Perhaps it resulted from the thunderbolt of which you have told me, or perhaps you were ill as a child. Or it might be a gift of the goddess, since she has always favored pleasure and only with reluctance has submitted to its consequences.”

I would not have believed it possible that I could discuss such difficult matters with Arsinoe so understandingly and without the desire for revenge. It proved how much I had grown during my years with the Siccani without even realizing it. For once a dish is broken, anger is of no use. Instead, it is best to collect the pieces and make of them what one can.

But when I had confirmed the fact that Misme was not my child either, I felt myself naked and so cold that nothing could warm me. As a man I had to provide my own purpose in life, and probably nothing is more difficult. It is easier to beget children and to thrust the responsibility on them while washing one’s own hands.

I felt myself so naked that I retired to the solitude of the mountain for a few days. I did so not to see signs and omens but merely to listen to myself. Doubt swept over me and I no longer believed in my power to summon the wind. Everything was but blind chance. It was for Dorieus that the earth had trembled and the mountain spat fire when we had approached the Sicilian shore. Again it had rumbled at the moment of his death. He had even begotten a son. I alone was vagrant without knowing whence I had come or where I was going or why. I was sterile as a stone and my love brought suffering radier than joy.

Upon my return from the mountain I collected a few Siccanian objects such as a bow and some flint-tipped arrows, a painted drum, some cloth made of tree bark, a wooden spear, snares and bone hooks, a wooden whistle for luring animals and a necklace of wild animals’ teeth, which I intended to send with Xenodotos to the Great King as a gift. No one forbade me to take anything since the Siccani do not take from one another unless in need.

The half moon shone in the sky during the day as though Artemis herself were benignly following my activities. When the sun was still up the Siccanians became restless and at dusk I took Hiuls by the hand and led him to the sacred rock. Like the Siccani I had become sensitive to events and no longer had to be invited.

Twelve old men, all wearing fearful wooden masks, were awaiting us by the sacred rock. I recognized them by their animal tails as priests, chiefs and holy men of the various tribes. They did not speak to me but upon our arrival they anointed the rock, lifted Hiuls atop it and gave him sweet berries to eat to pass the time.

They indicated that I was to take off my clothes. When I had done so they garbed me in a deerskin and covered my face with an antlered mask that was skillfully carved and painted. Thereafter everyone in turn, according to rank, drank a drop of the sacred potion from the wooden cup. I was last. Then they formed a line and began walking around the rock. I joined the end of the line. The beat of drums and the pipe of wooden whistles began to sound in the forest. Our walking changed to leaping and as the potion made itself felt the dance grew wild, with each of us emitting his animal cry. Hiuls was greatly amused by it, and whenever one of us imitated the cry of the animal whose tail he bore, Hiuls hooted like an owl. The Siccanians considered that a good omen.

The dance grew increasingly violent, the earth thinned into a veil around me and my blood throbbed in time to the drumbeat. Suddenly, to my amazement, I saw that animals were appearing from the forest, pushing through our circle to the rock and again fleeing. A wild boar crashed from the thicket with slavering tusks but no one attacked it and it thrust its way back into the woods. The last to appear was a gentle doe which paused by the rock to sniff at Hiuls with upstrctched neck and then bounded back.

I cannot explain how the Siccanians accomplished this. There were many of them in the forest, as the sound of the drums and the whistles indicated. Perhaps they had smeared the rock with tempting smells or had captured the animals for the purpose of releasing them during the dance. But the animals might have been merely shades conjured up by the Siccanians and made visible by the sacred potion. If that was so, I cannot explain how Hiuls could see them and afterwards describe every animal.

With the disappearance of the animals the dance ended and the Siccanians lighted a fire. Then they lifted Hiuls down from the rock and placed around his neck a necklace made of wild animals’ teeth and tied colored strips of hide around his ankles and wrists. Each slashed a wound into his own arm with a stone knife and let Hiuls suck it. They indicated that I also should slash my arm and let Hiuls taste my blood. When this had been done, the Siccanians burst into joyous laughter and sprinkled their blood over Hiuls until the boy was covered with it from head to toe.

Suddenly each seized a branch from the fire and disappeared into the forest. The priest of my tribe and I each took his burning branch and between us led Hiuls from the sacred rock. When the pine branches had burned out we tossed them away. The priest took off his mask and carried it in his hand. I also took off the deer mask that I had worn. We brought Hiuls home and put him to bed, but the priest forbade us to wash him until all the blood had worn off his skin.

I thought that that was the end of the matter but early the next day, before dawn, the priest came for me. He took me back to the sacred rock and laughingly showed me the marks of animals’ hoofs and nails on the ground, touched the rock and said that during the night the animals had licked the rock clean so that a stranger could no longer distinguish it from other rocks.

When we had crouched on the ground I said to the priest, “I am leaving the Siccani, for the time prescribed for me to rest with you has ended. Hiuls will remain with you, but his mother, Misme, and our slave Hanna will accompany me.”

The priest smiled, pointed northward and waved his hand as though in farewell. “I know that,” he said. “We were afraid that you would take the boy with you. Our tradition has predicted his arrival for as long as we can remember.”

Leaning on one elbow, he began drawing on the ground with a stick. “I am an old man,” he said. “With these eyes I have seen much happen. Fields are now being plowed with teams of oxen where formerly my father hunted wild animals. There are Siccanians who have built huts on the edge of the forest and grow peas. During my lifetime the Greeks have spread further than the Elymi ever have. They breed like vermin and have constrained the Siculi to cultivate land and build cities. He who builds a hut is the slave of his hut. He who cultivates land is the slave of his land. Only Erkle can now save us Siccanians but how it will happen we do not know.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, laughed, and continued, “I am only a foolish man and soon, when my knees fail me and my knowledge no longer serves my tribe, it will be time for me to go into the swamp. That is why I am talking so much, for I am very pleased. If you had tried to take the boy with you we would have had to kill you. But you brought Erkle to us and are leaving him here. That is why we consecrated you a deer and why you may have whatever you wish upon your departure.”

I took advantage of the situation to ask for a hornful of the sacred potion and a few of the poisoned thorns that the Siccani scattered on the ground when the Segestan nobles and their dogs were in pursuit.

He smiled again and said, “You may have what you wish. The Siccani no longer have any secrets from you except for certain holy words which you will not need. Don’t you really want anything else?”

I remembered the glitter of gold and silver that I had seen under the sacred rock while in a trance and realized that unwittingly they had consecrated me in the sign of Artemis’ sacred deer. The goddess had appeared to me as Hecate and all this was part of her game in which the Siccani were merely instruments of her will.

I pointed to the sacred rock and said, “You have your secret treasure of gold and silver under the rock.”

The priest stopped laughing. “How can you know that?” he demanded. “Knowledge of it passes among the priests as a heritage from father to son and the treasure has not been touched in generations.”

Probably the Siccanian leaders would have given me some of the treasure even if I had not asked for it since I had brought them their Erkle. The treasure, however, was not under the sacred rock as I had erroneously believed. On the contrary, the priest took me half a day’s journey away to a dangerous oak forest full of Siccanian snares and poisoned thorns. There he showed me a cave so well concealed that a stranger could not have found it. Together we cleared away the stones and earth until we found a hollow covered with bark and in it a wealth of silver and gold dishes and amulets. The priest was unable to explain how the Siccani originally had obtained the treasure but he believed it to be war booty from the time when the Siccani had ruled all Sicily.

The objects had apparently been collected at various times for some were of finer, some of clumsier workmanship. The most valuable was a golden bull’s-head which weighed a talent. The priest urged me to choose what I wished and as I did so he watched keenly to see whether greed overcame me. In that case he might have killed me, for he held a spear in his hand throughout. The disclosure of the treasure was presumably the final test to determine whether I was worthy of their confidence and whether they could permit me to leave in peace.

I selected only a simple golden goblet which weighed perhaps fifteen minas, a small golden hand which weighed less than one mina, but which pleased me as an amulet, and in addition a spiral bracelet which weighed perhaps four minas and which I intended for Arsinoe. I took only gold objects since they were easiest to carry and conceal, and because gold had become more valuable than silver now that most of the Greek cities had begun to mint silver money. More than that I did not take. Because the goddess had proved that she kept her promise as Hecate I knew that I would obtain material wealth whenever I needed it.

The Siccanian priest released his hold on the spear and together we returned the treasure to its place of concealment. As we departed along the path indicated by the priest I made no attempt to mark the trees or to memorize the mountain peaks or the direction. This pleased him, and when we were once again in the safe forest he began to jump for joy.

Knowing that he trusted me, I asked him to send for the wandering Pythagorean or some other Greek teacher to undertake the education of Hiuls after our departure. I impressed upon him the fact that Hiuls must learn to read and write, to count, and to draw figures and measure them. In addition to the Siccanian and Greek languages, he must learn to speak Phoenician and Elymian, the better to fulfill his task as the best of the Siccani. The Etruscan language might also prove useful, if he should show a readiness for learning, nor would practice on a stringed instrument hurt him. I was not concerned about his physical development, for life in the forest would see to that. As for the use of weapons, Hiuls’ own heritage would be the best teacher. Still my heart was filled with sadness at the thought of leaving Hiuls among the Siccani, although I knew that they would cherish and protect him better than I could.

And so I hardened my heart and advised the priest, “Teach him to obey his tribe. Only one who himself has learned to obey can some day command. If you see him killing merely for the sake of killing, kill him with your own hands and renounce Erklc.”

Arsinoe was pleased with the bracelet and claimed that it was old Cretan workmanship and that the collectors of antiques in Tyre would pay many times more than its weight in gold. I did not tell her where I had obtained it but said merely that the Siccanians had given it to her in gratitude for her having entrusted the boy to them.

The gift eased Arsinoe’s pangs at the moment of parting and Hiuls indicated no desire to follow us. In the Siccanian manner we left without farewell, arranging our departure so that we met Xenodotos and the Etruscan just as they arrived at the merchant’s storage place on the bank of the river.

The merchant declared that we were the first Siccanians he had seen appearing as a family before strangers, while Xenodotos rejoiced at the Siccanian objects I had brought with me. After resting that night by the fire, we began our journey toward Panormos.

In my Siccanian guise and after the lapse of so many years I did not fear recognition in Panormos. Nor did I think that Arsinoe, with her dark hair and changed face, would be recognized if she were careful. The Elymi did not attack unarmed Siccanians who arrived in the cultivated areas with a fir branch in their hands, as happened occasionally. I also had faith in the protection of Xenodotos, for it was doubtful whether anyone would wish to offend the Great King’s servant who had arrived in Sicily with Skythes.