The Etruscan (53 page)

I said to Xenodotos, “I have made friends in the Etruscan cities and will be glad to talk to them before their leaders meet to drive another yearly nail in the wooden pillar at the temple of Volsinii. I have learned to admire the Etruscans and to respect them and their gods. For their own security, if they wish to remain the masters of their sea, they must support the Carthaginian expedition.”

“You will not regret your decision, Turms!” cried Xenodotos. “And don’t fear for yourself. I inquired about you in Ephesus. The King does not bear a grudge against you for burning the temple of Cybele. On the contrary, your crime agrees with his policy perfectly by obligating him to an unexpiated war against Athens. As far as you are concerned it is forgotten and wiped away.”

But I said morosely, “My crime is a matter between me and the gods. I do not seek forgiveness of humans.”

Understanding my pride he easily turned the conversation to other important matters. “You understand the conditions better than I and know what to do. If you need Persian gold you will have it. Later you will be rewarded personally for every Tyrrhenian warship and every Etruscan soldier who joins the Carthaginian expedition to conquer Himera, regardless of the outcome.”

“I have no desire for Persian gold,” I told him. “I have enough for my needs. It is wiser not to circulate Persian gold in these lands, for the Etruscans are suspicious and easily hurt. It is better merely to convince them that the future of their seafaring cities depends on it.”

Xenodotos shook his head in disbelief. “You are stupid and politically unenlightened, Turms. Warfare requires gold first, last and always. Everything else follows logically. But do as you please. Perhaps the King’s favor will some day mean more to you than gold.”

“I don’t aspire to be in the good graces of the King,” I said stubbornly. “I don’t agree with you otherwise, either. Gold does not decide wars, but rather the discipline of the men and training in the use of weapons. One who is hungry and lean will defeat one who is wealthy and fat.”

Xenodotos burst into laughter. “Undoubtedly I have grown stouter and walking makes me perspire, but my knowledge has increased and I believe that I have become cleverer than I would have by running in the Siccanian forest and sleeping on the bare ground. I can always hire disciplined soldiers to protect me from the lean Greeks. Whosoever grasps a sword himself is mad. The wise man makes others fight and himself watches the outcome of the battle from a secure place.”

His cynical words made me decide firmly to accompany the Etruscans to Himera and to fight at their side even though bloodshed had become repugnant to me. I felt that I owed it to them if I succeeded in inducing them to participate in a distant war. But I did not tell Xenodotos of my decision, for he would have considered it laughable.

Still smiling, he took from his neck a heavy gold chain, hung it around my neck and asked, “At least take this as a memento of me and my friendship. All the pieces are of the same size and they do not bear the Persian stamp. You can remove them one at a time according to need.”

The chain weighed around my neck like a fetter but I could not return it without hurting him. Something in me warned me that I was committing myself to something that did not concern me, but I had spent a purposeless life for so long a time that I yearned for significant deeds.

Xenodotos remained in Rome while I journeyed to Tarquinia to meet Lars Arnth Velthuru. Despite his youth he immediately understood the importance of the matter and the opportunities that it offered for reviving waning Etruscan sea power and crushing Greek competition.

He said, “The inland cities have young and ambitious men who are dissatisfied with the old. There are also hardy shepherds and farmers who dare place their lives at stake to win more with one blow in a war than they could hope to obtain by a lifetime of serving others. Although our large islands can hardly release their vessels, which are needed to guard the mines, the iron families of Populonia and Vetulonia will realize what is for their own good, and Tarquinia will provide us with at least ten warships.”

He took me to see his father, Aruns Velthuru, who respected tradition to such a degree that he did not permit himself to be called a Lucumo but had Tarquinia ruled by a council instead. A more august man I had never met. Despite his position he received me courteously and understandingly once I had reached his presence. With the aid of a map I explained the plan for the Persian king’s military expedition and repeated Xenodotos’ contention that a more opportune moment for vanquishing the Greeks would hardly arrive.

He listened carefully, his face slender and ageless, and said finally, “I do not believe that it is the gods’ intention that only one man or one nation rule the entire world. Nations keep one another in balance. They grow and progress as the result of mutual competition. All nations are equal and human suffering is the same, no matter whether the person be Etruscan, Greek, or black. Nations rise and recede in cycles and each nation’s growth, blossoming and fading has been measured. Etruscan cities are no better or more important than Greek cities, although we perhaps know more about the gods than the other peoples. A human can redeem ten additional years from the gods and a nation or city one hundred years, but by more than that none can prolong existence.”

His words of wisdom made a deep impression on me, but Lars Arnth became impatient and said, “My father, you are old and do not understand the new times as well as we who are younger. The question of Greek influence on land and sea is for us a matter of life and death. If Carthage feels that it is compelled to go to war, we must support Carthage. And if we support Carthage we must do so with all our resources.”

His father sighed and said, “You are still very young, my son Arnth. Whosoever clutches the sword dies by the sword. We no longer offer human sacrifices to the gods.”

Arnth clenched his slender fingers and gritted his teeth, but bowed his proud head before his father who then smiled the beautiful, sad smile of an old Etruscan.

“This is a political matter and as such must be decided by the council. If you consider it so important, you yourself may journey to Volsinii in my stead in September. Why should I become involved in something

that I cannot prevent?”

Thus did Lars Aruns elevate his son to the regency of Tarquinia. After all, his tomb was completed and decorated with the eternal paintings of the artist Aruns, and he had no wish to redeem from the gods an additional ten years of life, which for a ruler can prove more burdensome than joyous.

After the conversation had had such unexpected results, Lars Aruns rose, placed his hands lightly on my shoulders and said, “I am happy to have seen you, Turms. Remember me when you enter into your

kingdom.”

His words surprised Lars Arnth as much as me, although Lars Alsir had once used the same words in Himera, but I considered them merely an old greeting which was used as a special indication of friendship. Only later did I realize that old Lars Aruns Velthuru knew and recognized me and considered me a herald of the gods in that matter. Thus it was that he relinquished his power to his son rather than become involved in a matter which was distasteful to him.

No longer did I have to struggle on Xenodotos’ behalf, for Lars Arnth took the matter as his own and journeyed himself and sent his friends to the distant Etruscan cities to prepare the ground. I, however, decided not to go to the holy cities but remained in Tarquinia to await the

decision of the league.

At the sacred celebration twelve days were devoted to the gods, seven days to internal political matters and three days to problems of foreign policy. The decision was that each city could decide for itself whether it wished to aid Carthage or not, and whether to do so in the name of the city or merely by enlisting volunteers. The holy Lucumones of both Volterra and Volsinii announced immediately mat their cities would not permit even the raising of voluntary recruits. But they were inland cities, and in such a matter the decision of the coastal cities was of

greater importance.

After the assembly the Carthaginian emissaries approached the delegates and rulers of the various cities and sought their promises of aid. Veii promised two thousand heavily armored men, Tarquinia its cavalry and twenty warships, Populonia and Vetulonia each ten warships, and the inland cities each at least five hundred men complete with equipment. Everything indicated that it would be the Etruscans’ most extensive sea expedition since their fleet had destroyed the vastly larger Phoenician fleet off the shore of Sardinia a lifetime ago.

When I returned to Rome I had only good news for Xenodotos and felt certain that the Etruscans would support Carthage as decisively as possible despite their old doubts. From Arnth I had received a copy of the secret list of commitments. Xenodotos was highly pleased to see it and declared that it exceeded his highest hopes.

“And all this you bring as a gift to me!” he exclaimed. “Now what shall I do with the golden bull’s-heads that I have transported with me with such effort?”

He had brought with him some bull’s-heads molded in the ancient Cretan manner which weighed a talent and were used as currency in Carthage. They had been hidden at the mouth of the river lest the Senate’s suspicions be roused by such immense wealth, and I laughingly urged him to take them back with him and said proudly that this was the Etruscans’ own war and that no one was bribing or compelling them to participate in it.

But Xenodotos declared that he would be suspect and his information considered worthless if he were to return the bull’s-heads. “This wealth is a sheer burden to me now that I have accomplished my task,” he lamented. “It is troublesome to transport and might even subject me to robbery. I could not have believed that everything would proceed so smoothly.”

Realizing that no benefit would be derived from awkwardly transporting the gold back to Susa, I suggested that we purchase a few shiploads of iron from Populonia, have it made into weapons, and hire someone to smuggle them to the Siccani. True, Hiuls was but a half-grown. boy and I had heard nothing about him during all these years, but the iron would strengthen his position among the Siccani and as the son of Dorieus he would know best how to use it. The Siccani might either serve the Carthaginian army as guides or tie up the Greeks by attacking Agrigentum. I suggested that Xenodotos might also send a few bull’sheads to Lars Arnth, who was an intelligent youth and could use the money to build several modern warships.

That was our decision, but he insisted that I accept one talent of gold as a present, if only to provide for unexpected expenses. So, after a night of drinking to the Etruscans and the Persian king, we parted as friends.

The council of Carthage had chosen Hamilcar as its military leader and bestowed upon him the powers of an autocrat for the period of the war. The son of that famous seafarer Hanno under whose direction expeditions had explored the ocean beyond the Pillars of Herakles, Hamilcar was an ambitious man. He also possessed the ability to plan, and during the winter he had recruited forces from the backwoods of all the Carthaginian colonies and even from Iberia, so that many lands and skin colors were represented in his army. Further, each nation was accustomed to fighting in its own manner and with its own weapons, and this, together with the various languages and eating habits, caused great confusion.

The Greeks’ equipment, on the other hand, was uniform, they were trained to fight in an open field as a moving front, and their heavily-armored soldiers had metal cuirasses and metal shields. And all during the winter Gelon and Theron vied with each other in building new triremes. We heard that Syracuse alone had almost one hundred triremes at sea that spring on maneuvers.

The worst surprise, however, was that the Roman Senate unexpectedly broke its agreement with Veil and had a bloody spear thrown into Veian territory. The Roman emissaries mentioned certain border violations, but that was merely a pretext, for agreement could have been reached just as it was every spring in the litigations between shepherds. Rome’s attack on Veil and its threatening movements near Caere and Tarquinia were the greatest misfortunes that could have befallen the Etruscan cause, for it made it necessary to cut the Sicilian expedition to an insignificant size. We sailed for Sicily only when we realized that in one way or another the Greeks had succeeded in inciting Rome to war against the Etruscans and that the Romans were deliberately engaged in raids to tie up Veian troops. We were forty light warships, two triremes and a number of cargo vessels with several thousand men, most of them heavily armored and trained to use a sword, shield and spear in the Greek manner. But we had no cavalry whatsoever and Lars Arnth was unable to accompany us. Tarquinia needed its cavalry to guard its borders against Rome.

It was late summer when we sighted the Sicilian shore but the Carthaginian fleet which we had joined at sea managed so well that we made directly for Himera without being bothered by the Greeks and softly pulled our vessels ashore. Hamilcar had seized the harbor and the mouth of the river and laid siege to the city, thus sparing his disgruntled mercenaries an exhausting march through the land of Eryx to Himera by way of the Siccanian mountains and forest. There were more than thirty thousand Carthaginian mercenaries and their encampment stretched around Himera as far as the eye could see.

Off from the others, in the woods, were a thousand Siccanians and, leaving the Etruscan chiefs to confer with Hamilcar, T hastened to their camp. My heart melted at my first sight of the black-, red- and white-striped faces and arms. The Siccanians were greatly surprised when I spoke to them in their own language and brought me quickly to their sacred rock. Around it were gathered the chiefs of the various tribes with their wooden masks. Among them I saw a stalwart boy carrying my own shield and, recognizing him immediately despite his mask, I ran to embrace him.

Hiuls was not yet thirteen, and his youth made him suspicious. He retreated before me and the Siccanian chiefs shouted angrily at me for so disrespectfully daring to lay hands on their Erkle. But when he realized who I was Hiuls took off his mask, asked to have meat and fat brought for me, and thanked me for the weapons that I had sent him.