The Etruscan (52 page)

In a few years Misme’s skin turned rosy and smooth, her limbs became slender and she no longer moved clumsily although she still was scraggy as a calf. Because of my journeys I had to leave her with the slave couple for long periods, but each time upon my return I felt increasing joy at the glow of happiness in her dark eyes. She ran to fling her arms around my neck and to kiss me, and I could not bear to tell her that I was not her real father. As she grew she seemed beautiful in my eyes, her brows were slender and whimsical and her lips like rose petals. But by the time she had become a maiden the expression in her eyes reminded me increasingly of Mikon’s restless eyes and she learned to laugh mockingly at others and herself. Into such a girl did Misme grow.

I will not describe Rome’s disputes with its neighbors or its perpetual raids. The problem of land distribution came up in the Senate but Ter-tius Valerius had long ago, because of Arsinoe, given up his favorite plan. Now that he had an heir he clung to his land tooth and nail and thus regained the confidence of his patrician brothers. He was no longer considered a simpleton but was pushed to the fore as necessity dictated to calm the people, who believed in him because of his former opinions. In that manner Tertius Valerius gained political influence and the patricians, the senators and even his own relatives began to admire Arsinoe more and more for having such a beneficial influence on the. old man.

Nor was he a stupid person. True, he granted Arsinoe the luxuries demanded by the new times and patiently endured her extravagance, but he himself retained his simple habits. Thus he remained healthy and strong and his head no longer wobbled when he made a speech in the Senate. That weakness he permitted himself only at home.

I learned all this by observing life in Tertius Valerius’ house from the sidelines and was greatly amused, upon occasionally seeing Arsinoe, to notice the sour expression usually on her face, as though Tertius Valerius’ surprising vitality had plunged her into the pit that she herself had dug.

From sheer vexation and boredom Arsinoe seemed to have aged much more than had tenacious Tertius.

News of the death of King Darius carried as far as Rome. Truly the whole world was shaken by it. The Greeks rejoiced and held festivals of thanks at Herakles’ altar, for they felt the danger which had threatened the mainland of Greece had receded, and that the revolts and disturbances which inevitably accompany a ruler’s death in such a large country as Persia would give the heir other things to think about than Greece. But Darius had built such a strong kingdom from the nations that he ruled that nothing happened. On the contrary, his son Xerxes, himself no longer a young man, was said immediately to have dispatched emissaries to Athens and other Greek cities with a demand for earth and water as symbols of submission. Several cities acceded, thinking that such a slight indication of sympathy carried no obligations.

All this happened far away, but as ripples from a cast stone spread slowly and break only on the shores of a pond, so were the effects of world events felt even in Rome. After all, the Persian empire comprised the Eastern world from the Scythians’ steppes to the streams of Egypt and India, so that the Great King rightly considered the entire world his play pond. He felt it his personal responsibility to be the bringer of peace and security to all lands, thus ending wars for all time. Thinking of that, it seemed to me that the quarrels of Rome and its steady expansion at the expense of its neighbors were as insignificant as shepherds’ quarrelings over pastures.

I met my friend Xenodotos immediately after his arrival in Rome as he was stepping out of the temple of Mercury where he had been offering a sacrifice for a successfully completed voyage. He had abandoned his Persian attire and was dressed in the latest Ionian fashion; his hair was fragrant and on his feet he wore shoes trimmed with silver. He had even shaved his curly beard. But I recognized him immediately and hastened to greet him.

When he recognized me he embraced me warmly and exclaimed, “Luck is with me, for I would immediately have sought you out, Turms of Ephesus. I need your advice in this strange city and have many matters to discuss with you once we are alone.”

I was in the habit of loitering with the others in front of the temple of Mercury whenever I was not practicing in the circus arena or teaching some chance pupil or trading cattle or passing my time in prophesying for the Suburran girls. There I caught a breath of strange cities and the expanding world of Rome, I could learn about a profitable trade, and because of my knowledge of languages could guide and otherwise be of use to wealthy foreigners. But I did not tell Xenodotos this, preferring to let him think that our meeting was a miracle arranged by the gods.

I found lodgings for him and his servants in the Etruscan inn which was the largest and best in Rome. Thereafter I showed Xenodotos what there was to show in Rome, but as one who had just arrived from Carthage he was not impressed by the wooden temples of Rome and the clay images painted by Etruscan artists. His interest was aroused more by the Roman constitution which effectively prevented the return of autocracy and also protected the rights of the people against the aristocracy. He also admired the order and discipline of the Roman army when I explained it to him. He considered it amazing that the state did not have to pay wages to the soldiers, who not only equipped themselves except for the cavalry horses but considered it the privilege and duty of a citizen to go to war for his native city without always sharing in the spoils. Any booty was sold for the benefit of the state treasury and so greatly did the Romans fear the return of autocracy that the commander-consul who distributed spoils to the army as gifts was immediately suspected as aspiring to become an autocrat.

Since I did not wish to show Xenodotos my room in Suburra I told him that I lived in modest circumstances in my little house outside Rome. He for his part did not wish to discuss matters at the inn, although we ate and drank there. Thus the following day we walked together along the bridge to the other bank of the Tiber, looked at the scenery and the cattle and finally reached my summer house. He said politely that the walk did him good and that the country air was fresh to breathe, but he perspired as he walked and it was apparent that he had not used his legs much in the past. He had also grown stouter and his former eager curiosity had sharpened to a tendency to cold-blooded criticism.

He admitted having attained an important position in Susa as an adviser on Western affairs, and having won the personal favor of the new king, Xerxes, even before the death of Darius. Now, in the necessary reorganization he, despite his comparative youth, had been entrusted with the observation of Western affairs outside the King’s sphere of influence.

“In Carthage we of course have our Persian House and our ambassador,” he said. “I have come from there and the interests of the King and Carthage are not in conflict but rather in agreement. The Cartha-gi-nian council knows that trade would be impossible if the King were to forbid Carthage the ports of the eastern sea. So, although the merchants of Carthage are so arrogant as to refuse to send earth and water to the King, they have agreed to an immeasurably more important matter. And because of that I have personally left Susa on this long and dangerous journey.”

As we walked he mentioned in passing that in Susa he had a house cared for by a hundred slaves and in Persepolis a modest summer building for whose gardens and fountains fifty slaves sufficed. But he did not keep any wives because he wished to avoid the unpleasantness caused by women, a decision which he said King Xerxes considered praiseworthy. From that I judged how and why Xenodotos had won the new king’s favor although he himself was too sensitive to boast about it.

For my part I did not wish to appear wealthier than I was. I had an attractive spring surrounded by shade trees that I myself had planted and I had had the convivial couches brought to the edge of the spring and had hung holy ribbons on the bushes. The water of the spring was our cooling vessel and Misme served us such simple country food as bread, cheese, cooked vegetables and a roasted pig which I had that morning sacrificed to Hecate. My serving dishes were heavy Etruscan clay ware, but the shallow drinking cups were from Athens and decorated by a skilled artist, for I did not want to flaunt my silver goblets.

Our walk had given Xenodotos a good appetite. He ate heartily and the old slave woman, who had feared the simplicity of her meal, wept with joy when Xenodotos summoned her before him and thanked her for an incomparable meal. When I saw how gracefully that man of the world behaved and how he won the hearts of simple people I began to understand the high position he had achieved and to respect Persian manners.

“Don’t consider this mere pretense, my friend Turms,” he said. “The simple food tasted good in my spice-cloyed mouth, and the country wine still has the flavor of the earth. Also the pig flavored with rosemary was delicious.”

I told him that it was an Etruscan dish for which I had brought back instructions from Fiesole. Before I realized it I was drawing a map on the ground with a stick, showing the location of the large Etruscan cities and describing their wealth and naval forces and the iron smelters of Populonia and Vetulonia. Xenodotos listened attentively, time passed, and Misme exchanged our violet wreaths for rose ones.

As the heavy fragrance of country roses wafted over us, Xenodotos looked around warily, grew serious and said, “We are friends, Turms, and I don’t want to tempt or bribe you. If you will just tell me whether you are for or against the Greeks I will know whether to remain silent or to speak frankly. There is much that I would tell you, knowing that I can trust you.”

I had found refuge in Ephesus, Herakleitos had reared me and I had even fought for lonia for three years. I had followed Dorieus, had shed blood and received scars for Greece. But when I honestly studied my heart I knew that I no longer cared for the Greeks and their customs. The better I had come to know the Etruscans and the more I had traveled in their cities the more I had begun to shun the Greeks. I was not a Roman and had grown away from that which was Greek in me. I was a stranger on earth who did not even know his own origin.

I explained, “The Greeks are admirable in many respects but in my heart I am tired of thera and in this country they are intruders who are elbowing room for themselves. The Greeks and the Greek spirit are rotting everything surrounding them, ruining everything which is there.”

Nor do I understand the reason for my extreme bitterness, but once I became aware of it, it poisoned my mind and turned my belly sour. Perhaps the humiliations of my youth in Ephesus were to blame. Perhaps I had been bound too long to Dorieus to be able to appreciate the Greek in him. Mikon also had betrayed me. Even the Scythians declared that the Greeks were better suited to be slaves and servants than free men.

Xenodotos nodded and said, “I myself am an Ionian, but, speaking honestly, I miss my Persian attire and Persian truth. A Persian is a man of his word and does not betray his companions, but we Greeks are accustomed to deceiving even our gods with ambiguous promises. It is true that nothing black in the world is absolutely black, nor is anything white pure white, but in serving the Persian king’s cause I believe that I am also serving my own people best.”

Realizing that I was not as captivated by the idea as he, he quickly picked up a stick and began to draw a map in the sand to show me how advanced the preparations were for a military expedition. “The King will vanquish Greece by land,” he explained. “For that reason he has secured bases in Trachia. The combined fleets of Phoenicia and lonia will accompany an army the like of which has not been seen before, to assure its maintenance and communications. A bridge of ships as hard as earth is being built across the Bosphorus, and in the event of storms canals have been dug across Trachian peninsulas so that the ships will not have to sail around them. For nine years these preparations have been under way. When the army begins marching from Asia to Europe every step will have been planned. True, Athens is agitating violently throughout the Greek world and has dedicated the output of its silver mines to the construction of new triremes. But actually Athens is rilled with.despair and a spirit of defeat although it tries to appear bold.” Xenodotos smiled his narrow smile and added, “Even the oracle at Delphi is uncertain and gives ambiguous responses.”

He pressed his fingertips together and remarked, “That is why I have come to Rome, from where it is easy to observe what is going on in the Etruscan cities. I myself cannot and must not participate visibly in the conferences. Outwardly it is a question only of the Carthaginians’ and the Etruscans’ own interests in resisting Greek pressure. The Etruscans will not even have to know that the Persian king is financing the arming of Carthage. But it is most important for the Etruscans that their leaders realize in advance the propitiousness of the moment for crushing the Greeks in the West. The goddess of victory will hardly offer them another opportunity like this.”

I took the crock of wine from the spring and filled our cups. The hilltops were turning red and dusk settled on their slopes. The odor of the wine and the roses seemed stronger as the evening cooled.

“Xenodotos,” I said, “be honest. Such thorough preparations and such an enormous army cannot be intended merely for the conquest of the Greek mainland. One does not need a smith’s hammer to kill a mosquito.”

He laughed nervously, sought my eye in the dusk and admitted, “Once Greece belongs to Persia the next step, of course, will be to send armies to the Italian mainland. But the King will remember his allies. You surely know that from friendly cities he demands no more than earth and water. The removal of a single stone from the wall will suffice as token recognition of Persian power.”

It was strange that I, who as a youth had so ardently joined in the Ionian revolt and fought the Persians, should now without hesitation have chosen the supremacy of Persia. But that decision had ripened in my heart and I made the choice with open eyes, once again committed by earthly reason to struggle against the blind forces of Fate.