The Etruscan (15 page)

He turned to us and Mikon hastened to explain, “I am consecrated and as a physician am striving to familiarize myself with divine matters. Because of the goddess’s whim I had to marry this Siculian girl. When I first touched her she lost her power of speech but now that we are wedded she talks even too much, especially when I want to contemplate supernatural affairs. As a consequence, I became increasingly weak and now am completely impotent. We therefore hope that the goddess will appear to us and aid us so that our marital relations will be more harmonious.”

For my part I said, “Aphrodite once favored me in clothing my nakedness in her sacred woolen bonds. One single name rings through my mind night and day, but I dare mention it only to the goddess herself if she appears to me.” I looked around at the dove-spattered courtyard, the unhewn rocks and eroded bull’s-heads in the wall, saw how cheap and insignificant everything was and added, “I don’t think, however, that she will appear.”

The priest disregarded my words and invited us to his lodgings, mixed some inferior wine for us and told us what to eat and how to purge ourselves while awaiting the appearance of the goddess. As he gave his advice he looked at each of us in turn and waved his arms in the air.

Resting his hand on my shoulder the priest said, “Do not doubt and fall into despair. I believe that the goddess will appear to you and free you from your trouble.”

His touch dispelled my sluggishness, my limbs felt light and the priest no longer seemed an angry old man but a mentor worthy of all confidence.

Words came to my lips. “I have met the Delphic oracle. She said that she recognized me, but she was a restless and violent woman. You I

trust.”

He allowed the others to go ahead, held me by the shoulders, looked into my eyes and said, “You have come far.”

“I have,” I replied. “I shall go perhaps even farther.”

“Have you already bound yourself?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, “but a certain name binds me and forces me to seek the goddess.”

“Such was the purpose. Apparently the goddess wished to have you here. Set your mind at ease for she will surely appear to you. Whoever binds you can also relax the bonds.”

That same evening Dorieus and Tanakil went to the temple together to spend the night by the empty pedestal awaiting the goddess’s appearance, while Mikon and I sat drinking wine together.

Later we drank more wine with the learned artisan who earlier that evening had taken an impression of Tanakil’s missing teeth in soft wax. He told us of his skill which he said he had acquired in Carthage.

The new teeth were carved from ivory and fastened with gold bands to the remaining teeth.

“But after that,” he said, “one can eat only food that has already been cut. The Etruscans claim that they can fasten teeth even more securely than the natural teeth, but that is probably just boasting.”

He was a well-traveled man who said that with his own eyes he had seen in the temple of Baal in Carthage the skins of three completely hairy men which a Phoenician expedition had brought back from a voyage southward from the Pillars of Herakles. Of all the people, he declared, only the Phoenicians knew the secrets of the ocean. They had sailed so far north in it that the waters had turned to ice and so far west that the ships had been caught in a sea of seaweed.

He told us many other unbelievable things about the Phoenicians of Carthage and we drank so much that the host sent his servant to lead the tooth carver back to his lodgings and Aura tearfully took Mikon to bed with her. I don’t know whether the wine made us more receptive to the goddess but I do know that on the following day all the foods I was permitted to eat tasted like pitch in my mouth.

When Dorieus and Tanakil returned from the temple in the morning they clung to each other, looked at no one else and did not answer our questions. They went to sleep immediately and slept until evening, when Mikon and Aura in turn went to the temple.

Dorieus arose and confided to me that he intended to marry Tanakil, whom he called the dove of Aphrodite.

“In the first place,” he declared, “Tanakil is the most beautiful woman in the world. I have always respected her, but when Aphrodite entered into her in the temple her face began to shine like the sun, her body became as consuming as a pyre and I realized that from now on she would be the only woman in the world for me. Secondly, she is infinitely wealthy. Thirdly, through her earlier marriages and her own birth she has excellent connections with most of the land of Eryx. Heretofore she has not used them to political advantage because she is a woman. But I have succeeded in arousing her ambition.”

“In the name of the goddess,” I cried, “are you really going to bind yourself to a Phoenician hag who could be your grandmother?”

But Dorieus was not even angered by my words. With a pitying shake of his head he replied, “You are the one who is crazy, not I. Some witchcraft has blinded your eyes so that you fail to see how fine-featured Tanakil’s face is, how her eyes shine and how full-blown her figure is.”

His eyes began to gleam like a bull’s; he rose and said, “Why am I wasting time in chattering with you? My dove, my Aphrodite, is undoubtedly waiting for me impatiently after having tried her new teeth.”

Later that night when the house had grown still Tanakil crept out of her bedchamber, came to me and asked joyously, “Has Dorieus confided our great secret to you? You must have noticed already in Himera that he took advantage of my widowhood. Now, because of the goddess, he has promised to make me an honorable woman once

more.

I said sharply that Dorieus as a Spartan was inexperienced in matters of the heart. She, Tanakil, as a three-time widow should have known better than to seduce a susceptible man.

But Tanakil replied accusingly, “Dorieus is the one who has been the seducer. When you came to my house I would never even have thought of tempting him, for I am an old woman. Even last night I repulsed him three times but three times he weakened me.”

She spoke so convincingly that I was compelled to believe. I do not know whether the witchery of the goddess was responsible or whether it was just the wine that dimmed my eyes, but in the light of the torch Tanakil’s features appeared beautiful and her black eyes gleamed compellingly. Dorieus’ behavior suddenly became understandable.

Noticing that my heart had melted, Tanakil sat beside me, placed her hand on my knee and explained, “Dorieus’ liking for me is not nearly so unnatural as you think. He has hinted at many things that not even he understands, but I who have buried three husbands can read a man’s mind from half a word. He told me that that forefather of his, Herakles, dressed in a woman’s clothes for a year during which he wove cloth and did other womanly tasks although he was usually a most quarrelsome man. Once a part of the herd that he had stolen fled to Sicily by swimming across the straits from Italy. A valuable bull named Europa was among them, and Herakles left his other cattle to search for the escaped animals. In pursuing them he reached Eryx and killed its king but restored the land to the Elymi. Before leaving he said that one of his descendants would some day return to claim the land as his legacy.”

Tanakil raised her hands to her face in confusion. “Forgive me for prattling so in my joy. But as I understand it Dorieus, as Herakles’ heir, considers himself the only legal king of Eryx and hence also of Segesta. As a woman I am not nearly so interested in this matter as he is. A man has to engage in all kinds of political activities and it helps to pass his time. But I noticed how approvingly Dorieus told me time and again about Herakles’ dressing like a woman. He has also told me that Spartan boys are separated from their mothers at the age of seven to live only among men. It is obvious that poor Dorieus secretly yearns for the motherly care and tenderness that he never enjoyed. This explains his inclination for a woman as old as I. I understand his secret desires better than any other woman could.”

“But we are bound to our commander Dionysius. As soon as the sailing season begins we must follow him across the sea to Massilia.”

Into my mind came the senseless thought that with the aid of Aphrodite I could abduct Kydippe and take her with me on the voyage.

But Tanakil shook her head and said firmly, “Dorieus will remain obediently at home and will no longer sail the uncertain seas. After all, he has been trained for land war. Why should he go to some barbaric country when his legacy matter must be pursued here?”

“Are you really going to encourage Dorieus in his wild dreams?” I demanded. “Haven^t those altars and monuments to the invaders warned you sufficiently? You have already buried three husbands. Why let the Segestans bury a fourth?”

Tanakil pondered a moment, chin in hand. “Men have their own pursuits,” she said finally. “In all honesty, I really don’t know what I’ll do. Physically Dorieus is, without a doubt, a regal man and the dog crown of Segesta would become him. But I fear that he is entirely too stupid to be a king in Sicily’s complicated political situation. The rattling of shields and the cleaving of skulls with a sword does not suffice as statesmanship. But if he wants to make me a queen as well as an honorable woman, I must bow to his will.”

Mikon and Aura returned from the temple in the morning, both deadly pale and with dark shadows under their eyes from being awake all night. Mikon put Aura to bed, covered her and kissed her forehead. Then he came to me with trembling knees.

“I promised to tell you about the goddess’s appearance so that you might be prepared,” he said, wiping his forehead, “but it is so bewildering that I can find no words to describe it. I suppose she appears in different ways to different people and to each according to his needs. Besides, I had to swear that I would never reveal the manner of her appearance. You probably noticed that Aura was completely silent upon our return. All this may be similar to the tranquilizing of the sick in Aesculapius’ temple, but I have only to touch Aura with my hand to silence her so that I may contemplate supernatural matters.”

Late that afternoon Aura awakened and began to call Mikon. He winked at me, sat on the edge of her bed, pulled down the cover and with his fingertip touched the tip of the girl’s breast. A deep sigh escaped her, her face grew even paler, her eyes stared into blankness, her body twitched and became still.

“You see, Turms,” said Mikon proudly, “what powers Aphrodite has given me. But the person on whom the goddess lavishes such gifts will die young. I don’t mean myself but Aura. I feel no physical enjoyment whatsoever; merely spiritual satisfaction in knowing that I have control over her body.”

“But how do you know that you and only you affect her like that?” I asked. “Perhaps any other man could do the same; in which case I truly don’t envy you.”

Mikon stared at me. “I am the one she has pursued ever since I initiated her into the embrace of Aphrodite of Akraia. Now Aphrodite of Eryx has shown her power by making Aura so susceptible that the mere touch of a finger induces an erotic exaltation. It saves me much trouble and time which I can utilize in the meditation of divine matters. But I can’t understand how anyone else could produce the same effect.”

Blinded by the goddess, I suggested, “It would be wisest to make sure, if only for scientific reasons. I don’t know why you should be any different from other men if Aura is once so sensitive.”

Mikon smiled a superior smile. “You don’t know what you are saying, Turms. You are younger than I and less experienced in these matters. But why don’t you test it if you wish? Then we shall see.”

I assured him that I did not mean myself and suggested that we let someone else, for example the innkeeper, make the experiment. But Mikon said that he was reluctant to let a stranger’s hand touch his wife’s breasts.

The more I protested, the more anxious he was that I try, swelling like a frog in sheer smugness. Thus, when Aura’s lids began to flicker and she sat up in bed, asking in a weak voice what had happened, Mikon thrust me to her side. I extended my forefinger and hesitantly touched the tip of her breast.

The result of the unhappy experiment exceeded all expectations. A spark flashed from my finger and I felt the flick of an invisible whip on my arm. Aura’s body twitched, her mouth opened, her face darkened as the blood rushed to her head, and she fell back in the bed, her limbs jerking convulsively. A rattle sounded in her throat as the air was ejected from her lungs. Her eyes became lifeless and then her already weakened heart failed and she passed away before we even realized what had happened.

But even in death the glassy eyes and open mouth were touched with a smile of such an agonizing ecstasy that I can never forget the sight. Mikon hastened to chafe her hands but soon realized the futility of his effort.

Our cries of distress brought Tanakil and Dorieus, and the servants fetched the innkeeper. At first he wrung his hands and shouted and cursed, but then came to his senses, indicated Aura’s face and admitted, “No one could hope for a happier death. Her face shows of what she died.”

While Mikon sat with his head between his hands, crushed by sorrow, Tanakil arranged with the innkeeper to have the body washed and removed and the bed cleaned. Dorieus was so shocked by the event that he again cut a tuft of hair from his head and burned it. He patted Mikon’s shoulder and spoke words of comfort.

The same night we gathered in the yard of the temple where Aura, clothed in beautiful garments, with her cheeks and lips colored and hair ornamented with pearl combs, lay on the pyre of white poplars fairer than she had ever been in life. The temple sacrificed incense and perfumes for the pyre and Mikon lighted it saying, “To the goddess.”

At the suggestion of the priests we did not engage wailing women but instead young girls to dance the goddess’s dances around the pyre and to sing her praises with Elymian hymns. So moving was the sight that, as the flames shot up against the limpid sky and the smell of burning flesh was lost in the fragrance of the incense, we wept tears of joy for Aura and wished one another as beautiful and quick a death in as sacred a place.