Read Tyrant Online

Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi

Tyrant (50 page)

But his generals were indignant over his remissive conduct and could not bear the idea of being considered cowards by the barbarians. As much of the army was made up of citizens of Syracuse, they decided to abandon Dionysius and march home.

Iolaus followed them in order to maintain control over the situation which could have fallen apart at any time in the absence of a high authority, while Philistus and Leptines remained with Dionysius, who still commanded his personal guard and a contingent of Peloponnesian mercenaries.

They managed in the end to re-enter Syracuse without problems, although Dionysius was anxiety-ridden at the idea that his city might attempt to overthrow his rule in his absence and that the city’s troops might occupy Ortygia. None of this happened, which was practically a miracle.

Mago considered himself satisfied with having forced Dionysius to withdraw, and he returned with his army to the confines of the Carthaginian provinces. From there he sent an ambassador to propose a peace treaty.

If Dionysius agreed to give up Solus and the other centres of the north he had so recently conquered, Mago in exchange would recognize his dominion over the Sicels, including those of Tauromenium. The conditions were advantageous for both and peace was stipulated.

Commerce flourished once again, traffic and the flow of trade opening up from the Pontus Eusinus to the Adriatic Gulf, from Spain to Africa, from Greece to Gaul, Asia and Egypt. The two harbours of Syracuse teemed with vessels from all over the world, with craftsmen and merchants, labourers and dockers who unloaded timber from Italy, iron from Etruria, copper from Cyprus, papyrus from Egypt, silphium from Cyrene, and loaded up on wheat, olive oil, hand-crafted goods of every sort, horses and weapons for exportation.

Dionysius’s wounds healed and he couldn’t help but recall Aksal’s strength and bravery. ‘If we had several thousand mercenaries like him,’ he said one day to Philistus, ‘no one would be able to stop us. They would be invincible combatants.’

‘Beware,’ replied Philistus, ‘they could easily become a threat. There’s an invasion under way in the north. I’ve learned about it from our Venetic informers, who have just come from Adria with a load of amber. There are many tribes descending from the other side of the Alps, with their families. A true migration of peoples. They’ve engaged the Etruscans in bitter fighting between the Apennines and the Padus, and the natives of these lands have appealed to their brothers who live in their original homeland, between the Arnus and the Tiber, for help.’

‘If they’re all like Aksal, the Etruscans have no hope,’ observed Dionysius.

 

The pretext for taking action against Rhegium was offered by a border skirmish between Locri and the cities of the Straits, which soon turned into full-blown war. Doris, Dionysius’s Locrian wife, was very worried; many people dear to her still lived in the city.

‘Your city has nothing to fear,’ Dionysius reassured her. ‘On the contrary; when this war is over she’ll be all the richer and more important. Those who are my friends can only stand to benefit.’

‘Then remember, as soon as you land in my city, to offer sacrifice to our national hero, Ajax Oileus.’

‘I will certainly do so, even though I doubt your Ajax will be coming to pull me out of trouble.’

‘Don’t say that! Don’t you know that the Locrians always leave a space in the front line so he can take his place in battle?’

Dionysius smiled, and seemed to be curiously watching his little son who was playing with a wooden horse.

‘Really?’ he said distractedly. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘Certainly. More than a century and a half ago we fought a dreadful battle against Croton, near the Sagra river. The Crotonian commander noticed that opening in our front lines and saw his chance to break up our formation, but he was cut down by an invisible arm and immediately taken out of action. The wound would not heal, although his doctors did all they could to cure it, cauterizing it again and again; it gave off a terrible stench and caused him piercing pain. The Crotonians consulted the oracle of Delphi, who responded: “The spear of a hero has inflicted the wound, the spear of a hero will heal it.”

‘The priests interpreted the prophecy to mean that he should go to the Maeotide swamp at the northern bank of the Pontus Eusinus, where Achilles’s spear was preserved, on a little island. The Crotonian commander undertook this long journey and, once he reached that sanctuary at the ends of the earth, he laid the hero’s rusted spear against his wound and was healed.’

‘That’s a beautiful story,’ said Dionysius. ‘You’ll have to tell it to our son.’

‘Will you take me with you?’ pleaded Doris.

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Our child is still young, he needs his mother, and war is war. One day, perhaps, when this is all over, when peace and prosperity reign at last, I will take you to Locri. We’ll have a beautiful house built there and we’ll spend time in it every now and then.’

‘Are you serious?’ asked the girl. ‘Just you and me, alone?’

Dionysius darkened. ‘You know you mustn’t speak that way! Aristomache is like a sister to you. You should be asking me to take her along with us.’

‘I’ve tried to be her friend. I even shared a bed with both of you, our first night, remember? I would have done so again, but she’s always so jealous, so melancholy . . . even now that she has children of her own. I don’t know how you can stand her . . .’

‘That’s enough!’ stormed Dionysius. ‘I know where you’re going with this. You should be content with the way things are. No woman in the world could ask for more!’

Doris turned to her handmaid. ‘It’s late, put the child to bed. Dear, give your father a kiss.’

The little boy timidly kissed his father without letting go of the maid’s hand; she took him off to bed.

‘Will you sleep with me tonight?’ asked Doris as soon as they had left the room.

‘You know that it’s Aristomache’s turn.’

‘But Aristomache has her period. I don’t.’

‘There’s nothing that escapes you.’

‘It doesn’t take much. Once you know, all you have to do is keep count.’ As she said these words, she loosed the belt of her gown and let it slip off. Doris’s nude body was radiant in her proud, harmonious femininity.

‘You are terrible,’ said Dionysius, letting his eyes run over his bride’s sensual curves. The lantern cast a golden halo on her pure white skin.

She drew close and embraced him, her breasts close to his face.

Dionysius kissed her passionately and dragged her to the bed. ‘But afterwards,’ he said, ‘I’ll be going to sleep with Aristomache.’

 

‘The Celts have taken Rome!’ exclaimed Philistus, entering Dio-nysius’s apartment at a near run.

‘What?’

‘It’s true! The Romans tried to make a stand, but they had such a fright as soon as they saw the attackers that they took to their heels. Many jumped into the river, others fled to the allied cities nearby.’

‘How did you find this out?’

‘The Etruscan merchants from Cuma told me that they had learned about it from their compatriots in Tarquinia. It was a disaster. The city was sacked, the senators who decided to stay behind were massacred. The acropolis held out for a while, but then they were forced to surrender, and to pay a high ransom to win back their freedom.’

Dionysius turned to Aksal. ‘Have you heard what your brothers are up to? They have burned down one of the most powerful Etruscan cities of the Tyrrhenian.’

‘No one can resist us,’ the Celt commented laconically.

‘I’m starting to believe that myself. What I’d like to do is send you up that way one day with Philistus, to see if any of them would like to combat in my service.’

‘If you command, Aksal go.’

‘Good. But by Zeus, I’ve been saying for years that someone should teach this creature a little Greek!’

‘The truth is,’ replied Philistus, ‘that no teacher has lasted more than a few minutes. I’m afraid you’ll have to keep him as he is. It’s not a man of letters you want, after all; you need a beast who will keep everyone else at bay. He’s perfect, I’d say.’

‘What do we know about these Celts?’ asked Dionysius. ‘We’ve spoken about this already, but I suppose you must know more by now.’

‘Not much, really. They live in the north, divided into tribes commanded by chieftains. Some say they are the Hyperboreans spoken of in myth. Others say they descend from the union of a certain princess Galata with Heracles upon his return from Spain with the oxen of Geryon.’

‘Fables . . .’ commented Dionysius.

‘They live in fortified villages, they venerate Apollo, Ares and Hephaestus as we do, they practise human sacrifice, they stand by their word and they always tell the truth . . .’

‘They’re barbarians, in other words,’ concluded Dionysius.

‘What did you expect? You’ve had a sample here for years.’

‘For what I have in mind, the more barbaric they are the better. But I would like you to start thinking about something . . . If I ever manage to recruit a good number of them, you’ll have to see whether there isn’t a version of some myth that connects them to Sicily.’

‘I would say decidedly not.’

‘Well then you’ll invent one. People who are transferred to foreign lands need to find something familiar.’

‘These Celts are highly unstable, and they’ve already made their way very far south. Be on your guard.’

‘My friend, there is nothing and no one who will be able to threaten us when I’ve accomplished my plan. I will draw a wall from the Ionian to the Tyrrhenian and my fleet will dominate the Straits unopposed. Syracuse will be the greatest city in the world and the mighty of this earth will have to reckon with us and contend our friendship.’

‘So now you’ll attack Rhegium.’

‘They have assailed my Locrian family and allies . . .’

‘Who had provoked them into it.’

‘That is immaterial.’

‘You have considered, I hope, that Rhegium is part of the League that unites most of the Greeks of Italy. If one city is attacked, the others are bound to come to her aid.’

‘I know. And I know what I’ll do. You will remain here to command the Ortygia fortress.’

Philistus nodded slightly, quite embarrassed by the honour bestowed upon him.

‘Leptines will have as always the supreme command of the fleet. Do you know where he is now?’

‘Where do you think? He’s on the
Boubaris
having the rowlocks, figurehead, stern ornaments and mastheads polished. There’s no wife he could love as much as he does that ship.’

‘Then let him know that I will be his guest for all the operations at sea.’

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