Tyrant (15 page)

The return of these remains intensified the suffering of the parents and relatives, and every corner of the city was filled with wailing and lamentation that whole night. The next day the funeral was held. Pyres were lit outside the city, to the south, and when the fire had consumed what the dogs and predators had spared, the bones and ashes were returned to the families so they could be deposited in their tombs.

Arete participated in the funeral, alone, because among the dead was a cousin who had always been very dear to her. As she set off for home, just as darkness was falling, she became aware that someone was following her, and she picked up her pace.

She suddenly realized that only a slave or a prostitute would be out walking alone on the street at that hour. Without turning, she began to walk even faster, nearly breaking into a run in her anxiousness to reach the door of her home and close herself in. The footsteps following her became quicker and heavier, like the pounding of her heart. Then, all of a sudden, they disappeared.

Arete stopped and finally looked back. No one. She drew a breath and turned quickly to the left, but as soon as she had rounded the corner she bumped into a dark-cloaked figure and could not help but scream.

‘Sshh!
Siopa
!’ threatened a commanding voice.

‘Dionysius!’ gasped Arete, recognizing him.

His head and face were covered by a hood and he said: ‘Keep going and don’t stop. I’ll be behind you until you reach home.’

She hurried along the roads of the Achradina district until she reached the house with the trellis. The grapevines had already come into leaf and so had the fig tree that was practically growing out of the wall next to the door. Arete took the key from her bag, opened the door and let her husband in. She double-locked the door behind her and threw her arms around his neck in a long embrace. He held her tightly without saying a word.

‘Do you want dinner?’ asked Arete.

‘I’m really not hungry.’

‘How did my father take it?’

‘Badly. What did you expect?’

‘What will he do now?’

‘I think we’ll return to Selinus. There’s no other place we can settle.’

‘This time I’m coming with you. It makes no sense for me to stay here.’

‘Yes it does.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your father wants you to stay here in Syracuse.’

‘So what? I’m a married woman. I don’t have to listen to my father. It’s your permission I need, not his.’

‘I agree with your father. As long as we’re in Selinus, it’s too dangerous.’

‘You are a bastard,’ said Arete with tears in her eyes. ‘You don’t love me, not even a little bit?’

‘Let’s not start fighting again,’ replied Dionysius in a conciliatory tone. ‘You know very well that you’re the person I love most in this world. And that’s why I’ve decided that you can’t come with me. But listen . . . there’s something that I shouldn’t be telling you, but I’ll say it anyway: I don’t think we’ll be staying far away for long.’

‘Why?’ asked Arete, drying her tears.

‘Your father is returning to Selinus but I’ll only be following him in the first part of the journey. I have to meet some people who will help me prepare for his return to the city.’

‘His return? But how?’

‘It’s better that you don’t know. Believe me, it’s just a question of days, less than a month, surely. And after that, we’ll never be separated again. You’ll grow bored with me, I promise.’

Arete shook her head.

‘You don’t believe me?’

‘I do believe you,’ she replied, ‘and that’s why I’m afraid. Returning like this has to mean blood.’

‘No, that’s not said. We’ll arrange it so that it’s all over with quickly. Your father doesn’t want bloodshed and the city has already seen heavy losses. But it’s his right to come back: the decree that sentenced him to exile was unjust. What’s more, Syracuse is without a leader at the very moment that the Carthaginians are preparing a new invasion.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘We have our informers.’

‘In the city they’re saying that if the Carthaginians come back it’s your fault, because you’ve installed an army at Selinus and have stirred them up by carrying out acts of war.’

‘What do you think?’

‘That they may be right, at least in part.’

‘We’ve only done what we had to do, and I’m amazed that you of all people, who witnessed the horrors they’re capable of, are saying such a thing.’

‘Women think differently than men do. You men only think of revenge, of honour, of showing your bravery as warriors, but all you’re doing is perpetrating hatred and encouraging ill will. You seek glory, we grieve our sons, our brothers, our fathers and mothers. I dream of living in peace in this house with you, of seeing friends and cooking for them under the trellis on summer evenings, watching the ships entering the harbour. I dream of raising children, and seeing our grandchildren one day. I know they’re not important dreams, but it’s all that I hope for.’

Dionysius grasped her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘The women of Selinus and Himera had dreams too, didn’t they? And someone turned them into bloody nightmares. And even the refugees who have been spared their fate have a dream:

to return to their homes and live there the rest of their lives. All of our cities are on the coast, and they’ve been founded in the only suitable places for living. If they are destroyed, we have no alternative: we will vanish as though we never existed. Is that what you want, Arete? Do you want the Greeks of Sicily to disappear like phantoms? Do you want our cities to be reduced to heaps of debris, dens for wild beasts?’

‘No . . .’ Arete replied weakly. ‘I don’t want that. But I’m tired of living in anxiety. In the fear that every time there’s a knock on the door, there will be someone there to give me the news that will break my heart.’

‘Then we have to drive the barbarians off the island. It’s the only way we can live in peace and build a future for our children. Your father and I will lead the uprising from Selinus. But time will have to pass before that happens and we can be together and enjoy life a little . . . and love.’

Arete’s eyes welled up again. ‘I know that there’s nothing that I, or anyone else, can say that would make you change your mind; you or my father. It’s incredible that the only men who count in my life agree on everything that makes me miserable . . . it must be my destiny.’

Dionysius smiled: ‘If you want to know the truth, it’s not quite that way this time.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Your father still knows nothing about my plans.’

‘I . . . don’t understand.’

‘He’ll be told in due time.’

‘That scares me even more. It sounds like utter madness.’

Dionysius touched her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. When the time comes, it will all be over in a few hours.’

Arete stared at him in dismay; there were a thousand things she had to tell him, reasons to dissuade him, doubts, anxieties, fears. She managed only to say: ‘Shall I make you some dinner, then?’

‘Dinner?’ repeated Dionysius.

‘Yes or no?’

‘No,’ he replied. He took her into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

Hermocrates struck camp three days later, and many Syracusans drew a sigh of relief when they learned that the column was headed west. No one noticed Dionysius breaking away from the others, later, on horseback. He was directed towards a place in the interior where he had arranged to meet some men from his Company. His most trusted friends were among them: Iolaus, Doricus, Biton and Philistus.

Diocles had already left Syracuse, obeying the Assembly’s orders. He disappeared without leaving a trace and was never heard from again. Perhaps he was content with his success in keeping Hermocrates out of the city, or perhaps he was overcome with shame and wanted to live out his years like any ordinary man in some obscure place.

Hermocrates and his men marched for nine days until they came within sight of Selinus, where many other warriors awaited them. They were all ready to follow their commander to the ends of the earth.

Dionysius in the meantime had arrived at the site of the secret rendezvous: an abandoned tufa quarry on the road to Catane. His friends, all members of the Company, joined him a few at a time; Philistus arrived last. When they had all gathered, Dionysius posted sentries all around and began to speak.

‘The Assembly’s decree was scandalous,’ he began, ‘and Her-mocrates’s exile is a monstrous injustice. No formal charges have been made against him; it’s just slander and suspicion that are keeping him out. In reality, he is the best of us all, a brave man whose only offence is having served his homeland faithfully. At the price of harsh sacrifice, without ever asking for anything in exchange! But this is not the point. We know for certain that the Carthaginians are preparing a new campaign for next year, and they’re determined to wipe us all out this time, even Syracuse.’

‘How can you be certain?’ asked one of the men.

‘Let me explain that,’ intervened Philistus. ‘One month ago a Carthaginian legation went to Athens to ensure that the city government would be continuing their war against Sparta. Why do you suppose they did that? It’s quite simple: if the Athenians keep the Spartans busy in the Aegean Sea, Sparta won’t be able to come to our aid as she did seven years ago. Carthage will be free to attack; and you can be sure that she will.’

‘Given the situation,’ continued Dionysius, ‘the only man capable of leading our army in such a conflict – which I believe is inevitable – is Hermocrates. You’ve all seen what happened at Selinus and Himera because of the lack of determination and of a unified command. The same thing will happen in Syracuse if we continue to waste time on questions of political theory. We’re talking about our survival here. Are you with me?’

All of the men nodded their assent.

‘Good. Then we’ll bring him back to the city.’

‘That’s easily said,’ objected Doricus, a youth of about twenty-five with hair as red as his father’s, who came from Thrace, and eyes as black as his Italian mother’s.

‘And not too difficult to accomplish,’ replied Dionysius.

‘It’s madness!’ shot back Iolaus, one of his most trusted men and, like Doricus, a boyhood companion. ‘As soon as the people get wind of it, they’ll have our heads.’

‘We’ll catch them unawares,’ continued Dionysius without missing a beat. ‘Everything can be prepared from the inside. We’ll take control of the western gate and we won’t open it until our scouts report that Hermocrates is ready to move in. In a matter of a few hours, the city will be in our hands. The people will just have to accept an accomplished fact.

‘If we don’t act, we’ll just have to put up with the same rigmarole all over again – discussions that go on for days and days in the Assembly before a decision is made. And executed, at that point, by an amateur, a salted fish merchant or a naval carpenter instead of a warrior, son and grandson of warriors. Remember this, my friends: until just a short time ago, the barbarians feared us – overestimating our power, perhaps, simply because they’d seen us defeat the Athenians. But Diocles’s insane behaviour has now convinced them that we’re no longer capable of defending our allies, and thus incapable of defending ourselves as well. They will attack, heed my words. And they will not stop until they’ve exterminated us. Only Hermocrates can save us. Believe me, we have no alternative.’

‘I think you’re right!’ exclaimed Biton, the most quarrelsome and impatient of Dionysius’s companions, a strong lad always eager to come to blows and, if necessary, to take up arms.

‘Who’s with me, then?’

They all raised their hands.

‘Excellent,’ concluded Dionysius. ‘We all agree. All we have to do now is put the plan into effect. But first let us renew the oath that keeps us united; the gods will curse any of us who break it. Let us vow that if any one of us should betray another, we will hunt him down until we have found him and punished him.’

All those present swore allegiance to their oath. Being part of a Company meant having important advantages in social and political life, and in the army as well, but also involved unswerving commitment. Defection could mean death.