The Etruscan (17 page)

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Authors: Mika Waltari

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BOOK: The Etruscan
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“The returned?” she asked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

I wound my arm around her shoulders and drew her to me. Her body was stiff but she did not resist.

“Your arms are cold,” I said. “Permit me to warm you with my body. Or is it already morning?”

She glanced at the sky through the opening. “Not yet. But why are you still interested in me? Why should you warm me with your body? You have already had what you wanted.” Suddenly she buried her face in my neck and began to weep bitterly. “Don’t be angry with me if I am troublesome. The dark of the moon always makes me capricious. Usually I do humbly what is requested, but you make me obstinate.”

Through the thin cloth I felt the softness of her limbs and shivers passed over my body. I seemed to be standing hesitantly on a threshold over which there would be no return once I passed it.

“Tell me your name,” I pleaded, “so that I may know you and talk to you.”

She shook her head stubbornly. Her hair escaped the combs and tumbled onto my chest. As she pressed her face against my neck she-embraced me with both arms.

“If you knew my name you would have me in your power. Don’t you understand?—I belong to the goddess. I cannot and must not be-dominated by any man.”

“You cannot escape me,” I told her. “In starting a new life a person chooses a new name. At this very moment I am giving you a new name.. It will be yours and through it I will hold you—Arsinoe.”

“Arsinoe,” she repeated slowly. “How did you invent that? Have. you known an Arsinoe?”

“Never,” I assured her. “The name just came to my mind. It came: from somewhere or was in me, for a person does not invent names by himself.”

“Arsinoe,” she said again, as though savoring the name. “What if I don’t accept the name you have given me? What right have you to. re-name me?”

“Arsinoe,” I whispered, “when I warm you like this in my lap and. wrap the woolen mantle of the goddess around you, you are the most familiar of all persons to me although I don’t know you.” I thought for a moment. “You are not a Greek, that I can hear from your speech. Nor can you be a Phoenician for your face is not copper-colored. You are, white as foam. Could you be a descendant of Trojan refugees?”

“Why concern yourself with my nationality? The goddess does not distinguish between nationalities or clans, languages or colors of skin.. She chooses people at random, makes the fair still fairer and beautifies even the ugly. But tell me, Turms, do you now see my face as it really is?”

She turned to me and I studied her. “Never have I seen a face as vivid and changing as yours, Arsinoe. Your every thought is reflected in it. Now I understand that the goddess gives you an infinite number of faces and each man sleeping the sleep of the goddess thinks that he, sees in you the face of someone he loves or has loved. But when you, lean against me thus as a human I believe that I do see your real face.”

Drawing back she touched the corners of my eyes and mouth and. pleaded, “Turms, swear that you are only a human.”

“In the name of the goddess I swear that I experience hunger and thirst, exhaustion and sleep, lust and longing like a human. But what I am I cannot say for I myself do not know. Will you swear that you will not suddenly disappear from my lap or change your face? To me: it is the most beautiful face I have ever seen.”

She spoke the oath and then said, “At times the goddess appears in.

me and I no longer know myself. At other times again my task feels tedious and I know that I am only deceiving the people who in their dream think that I am the goddess. Turms, sometimes I don’t even believe in the goddess but crave to be free to lead the life of an ordinary human. Now my only world is the mountain of Eryx, and the goddess’s fountain will be my grave when I am worn out and another steps into my place to serve the goddess.”

She touched the clothes on the floor with her foot, shook her head and said, “It is shocking that I speak like this to you, a stranger. Tell me, have you the power to bewitch people, since I did not leave in time?”

But an odd thought had begun to perplex me. “In my dream, if it was merely a dream, I was in Himera, in Kydippe’s room. I embraced her as a man embraces a woman and she permitted it to happen. I took my fill of her and knew that only my lust had blinded me and that actually I had nothing in common with her. But that which happened was real. I know it and feel it in my body. Whom, therefore, did I embrace if my body remained here and was not in Himera?”

She evaded the question and snapped angrily, “Don’t talk to me about that Kydippe. I have already heard too much about her.” Then she continued triumphantly, “At any rate, she is not for you. Her father has already received the goddess’s prophecy. Kydippe will be sent with a mule team to her wedding chamber and a rabbit will run before her. The rabbit is the emblem of Rhegion, and Rhegion rules the straits on the Italian side as Zankle rules them on the Sicilian side. Because the goddess of Eryx also fulfills political plans in the visions and prophecies I cannot always believe in her.

“In fact,” she continued, “the temple of Eryx is the marriage mart for the entire western sea. The wise ones only half believe in the goddess and instead negotiate directly with the priests for the most advantageous marriage. Many an unsuspecting man and woman has received an omen to visit Eryx and there seen his future spouse in a vision although he has not even heard of her before. The goddess can persuade the reluctant.”

“And what of me?” I asked. “Am I also the victim of someone’s calculations?”

She became serious. “Don’t misunderstand my words. The goddess is more powerful than we think, and sometimes she confuses the most careful calculations with her own will. Why else would I have been compelled to remain here and reveal myself to you?”

She touched my mouth in fear. “No, Turms, I feel alternately hot and cold when I look at your oval eyes and broad mouth. Something stronger than me binds me to you and makes my knees so weak that I cannot stoop to gather up my clothes from the floor. Something terrible must happen.” She glanced up at the opening in the roof. “The sky is growing light,” she exclaimed. “How short this night has been! I must go, never to meet you again.”

I caught her hand. “Arsinoe, don’t go yet. We must meet again, but how? Tell me what I must do.”

“You don’t know what you are saying,” she protested. “Wasn’t it enough that one woman died from your touch? There has been much talk of that in the temple. Do you want me also to die?”

At that moment we heard the flap of wings. Someone had walked in the temple courtyard and a frightened flock of doves had taken wing. Something fluttered down from the opening and fell within the circle of light at our feet. I picked up a small feather.

“The goddess has given us a sign!” I cried elatedly. “She herself is on our side. If I had not believed in her before, I do now, for this is a miracle and an omen.”

Her body quivered in my lap. “Someone moved in the courtyard,” she whispered. “But already innumerable lies are darting about in my head like lizards. Perhaps the goddess is bestowing her own ingenuity on me. Turms, why did you do this to me?”

I kissed her protesting mouth until she submitted and breathed her own passion into me.

“Turms,” she said at last with tear-filled eyes, “I am horribly afraid. Would you recognize my face if you were to see me in the light of day? Lamplight is treacherous. Perhaps I am uglier and older than you think and you would be disappointed in me.” “What of my own face?” I asked.

“You have nothing to fear, Turms,” she laughed. “You have the face of a god.”

At that moment I trembled from head to foot and in the grip of a deep ecstasy I felt myself to be more than myself. There was nothing that I could not conquer.

“Arsinoe,” I said, “You were born for me and not for the goddess, just as I was born for you. That was why I had to come to Eryx, to meet you. I am here, I am free, I am strong. Go, therefore, and do not be afraid. If we do not meet in the day we will meet at night—that I know, and no power in the world can prevent it.”

I helped her gather her clothes and jewelry from the floor. She blew out the lamp, took it with her and left the temple through a narrow door behind the goddess’s empty pedestal. I lay down on the couch, pulled the myrrh-odored woolen mantle over me, patted the embroidered doves on it and stared at the lightening sky above me.

4.

The sun was already high when I was awakened by the touch of one of the priests who had come into the temple with a beautifully decorated drinking vessel in his hand. When I saw him I did not at first know which of my experiences had been merely a dream. But when memory returned I was rilled with such supreme joy that I laughed aloud.

“Oh, priest, the goddess has freed me of the pangs of love!” I exclaimed. “Last night I saw the girl whom I thought I loved and even embraced her, although she is far away in Himera. But she turned into a rabbit and fled from my arms and I no longer craved her.”

“Drink this,” he said, extending the cup to me. “I see from your face that you are still in a state of excitement. This drink will calm you.”

“I don’t want to be calmed,” I protested. “On the contrary, this condition is delightful and I would gladly prolong it. But you know the goddess’s secrets. Why should I conceal from you that I, an alien, hoped for the impossible and fell in love with Kydippe, the granddaughter of the tyrant of Himera? Fortunately, however, the goddess liberated me from my yearning.” As I babbled, I drank the mixture of honey and wine that he offered.

He looked at me shrewdly and frowned. “Did you really say that Kydippe turned into a rabbit and fled from you?” he asked suspiciously. “If that is so, the goddess has truly favored you, for this omen confirms other previous omens we have had about that Kydippe.”

“Kydippe,” I repeated slowly. “But yesterday that name made my whole body tremble. Now I do not care if I ever see her again.”

“What else did you see?” the priest asked curiously. “Try to remember.”

I covered my eyes with my hand and pretended to think. “I think I saw a team of mules and a chariot ornamented with silver. The mules walked through the water across the straits, but how that was possible I do not know. Only a moment ago the visions were still clear but the drink that you gave me has blurred them. No, I can no longer see or remember anything. But that is of no significance. Kydippe at least will no longer trouble my mind.”

“Undoubtedly you have some talent as a seer,” he said.

I left the temple and returned to the inn, where the remains of the funerary feast, broken dishes and puddles of wine were on the floor.

Mikon was sleeping off his sorrow so soundly that I could not arouse him. Tanakil, however, was up and having her teeth fitted by the tooth-maker. Blood streamed from her gums but she drank wine to fortify herself and uncomplainingly allowed the tooth-maker to pinch her with his pliers and to thrust the golden bands securely in place. The tooth-maker lauded her bravery and was himself amazed by the beauty of the teeth he had made. When they were in place at last, he rubbed the bloody gums with an herb salve and collected the fee for his work. It was not small, but in order to increase his gains he thrust upon Tanakil tooth cleansers, face ointments, eyebrow darkeners and Carthaginian cheek coloring which made wrinkles invisible.

When he had finally left I seized Tanakil by both hands and said, “We are mature people, both of us. You are familiar with the goddess’s secret rites here in Eryx, but I also have powers that you don’t suspect. Remember what happened to Aura when I touched her. Who is the woman in whom the goddess appears to the suppliants at the temple?”

Tanakil drew back in alarm, glanced about her and said, “Speak softly, although I don’t know what you mean.”

I said firmly, “She is a woman, made of flesh and blood like me. Remember that it is in my power to reveal many things to Dorieus that might turn him from you despite your new teeth. So be frank with me and tell me what you know.”

She pondered the matter for a moment. “What exactly do you want?” she asked. “Let us be friends. Of course I shall help you if I can.”

“I want to meet that woman of the temple again,” I demanded. “As soon as possible and preferably in daylight and by ourselves.”

“That is forbidden,” insisted Tanakil. “Besides, she is but a cheap vessel whom the goddess fills with wine if she so chooses. The vessels change, but the wine of the goddess remains the same. The power is not hers. She is but a slave who has been trained in the goddess’s school.”

“That may be,” I said, “but it is precisely that cheap vessel that I desire, preferably empty and without wine, for I intend to fill her with my own wine.”

Tanakil looked at me thoughtfully, touched her new teeth and admitted, “I am consecrated, as you guessed. I will confess that I have many times helped that woman play pranks on men as they sleep the sleep of the goddess. It was she who helped Dorieus to see me fairer than Helen of Troy and to enjoy unsuspected delights in my embrace.”

“Who is she?” I asked.

“How should I know?” Tanakil shrugged her shoulders. “Such women are bought when they are young girls and are trained in the temple. This one, I think, has been trained in Carthage and has traveled in other lands as well to develop the necessary talents. The temples frequently exchange gifted women, but one who has risen to Eryx can go no farther. She can live like a goddess and experience all the pleasures of such a life until she becomes insane or useless. Don’t think of her, Turms. You are only wasting your time.”

“Tanakil,” I said, “once you told me that you believe in the goddess. I also believe in her, as I must after the many indications she has given to me of herself. She has the power to confuse the selfish calculations of humans, including even her own priests. Her whim brought me to Eryx. Her whim revealed that woman to me, and it is her whim that forces me to meet that woman again. How could I resist her whim? Help me, Tanakil. For your own sake, for my sake and also for the sake of that woman.”

Irritably Tanakil replied, “Why don’t you entrust your problem to the priest? He could prove to you better than I how wrong you are.”

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