that I cannot say.”
In time we became friends, but not once did Lars Alsir again refer to my birth.
I told Dionysius that the Tyrrhenians were difficult to approach and that a stranger could not hope to bribe them into revealing their maritime secrets.
He became enraged. “The bones of Phocaeans rest on their shores, and if the Tyrrhenians choose to bite iron rather than peacefully allow us to sail to Massilia, they can blame only themselves if they cut their lips.”
Dionysius had begun the construction of a new warship while supervising the elevation of Himera’s wall by three Greek ells. He did not compel the men to work too hard, merely enough to maintain discipline. Many of the Phocaeans married Himeran women and planned to take them to Massilia.
The Sicilian winter was mild and gentle. I was happy to live in Himera while seeking myself. But then I met Kydippe, the granddaughter of the tyrant Krinippos.
7.
Krinippos was an ailing man who ate only vegetables even though he was not a Pythagorean. In fact, he had banished the Pythagoreans because they made the mistake of preaching oligarchy by the wise and the virtuous instead of by the aristocrats and the wealthy.
In his agony Krinippos was in the habit of expressing such bitter thoughts to his son Terillos, whose head had grown bald while vainly awaiting his father’s death and the acquisition of the amulets. I had occasion to listen to Krinippos’ lectures when I accompanied Mikon to his house in curiosity. Mikon’s potions eased the tyrant’s pain but Mikon warned him, “I cannot heal you, for the power that you have consumed has gone to your belly and is devouring you from within like a crab.”
Krinippos sighed. “Ah, how willingly I would die! But I cannot think of my own pleasure for my heart is heavy with concern for Himera and I cannot understand how I can leave its government to my inexperienced son. For almost forty years I have held him by the hand and tried to teach him statesmanship, but one cannot expect much of one to whom not much has been given.”
Terillos plucked at the gold-leafed wreath that he wore to conceal his baldness and whined, “Dear father, I have at least learned that Himera’s peace and freedom depend on its friendship with Carthage. The goddess of Eryx gave me a wife from Segesta whom I have suffered all these years merely to assure us of an ally should Syracuse threaten us. But the only child she gave me was Kydippe. Because of your statesmanship I have not even a son to whom I can bequeath your amulets.”
Mikon tried Krinippos’ pulse as he lay groaning on a dirty sheepskin. “Don’t agitate yourself, ruler Krinippos, for anger and vexation will merely increase your discomfort.”
“My entire life has consisted of anger and vexation,” said Krinippos morosely. “I would feel uncomfortable if something were not constantly troubling me. But you, Terillos, do not concern yourself with your successor, for I greatly fear that you will have little power to bequeath. Marry off Kydippe in time to some trustworthy city and ruler so that when you have lost Himera you can gnaw her bread of charity.”
Terillos, who was a sensitive man, burst into tears at his father’s unkind words. Krinippos relented and patted his knee with a veined hand.
“I am not blaming you, my son. I myself sired you and must bear the consequences. You were born into a worse period than I and I doubt whether even with my amulets I could persuade the present Himera to make me its tyrant. People are no longer as superstitious as in the good old days. But I am glad, my son, for you will be relieved of the responsibility of power and will live out your days in Kydippe’s care.” Then he said, “Bring Kydippe here to kiss her grandfather. I want to show her to these men. It will do no harm to have the fame of her beauty spread beyond the city.”
I did not expect much of her, for grandfathers are easily blinded by love, but when Terillos escorted her in it was as though dawn had burst upon the bleak room. She was only fifteen, but her golden eyes shone, her skin was as white as milk, and when she smiled her little teeth gleamed like pearls.
After she had greeted us shyly Kydippe ran to kiss her grandfather and to stroke his sparse beard. Krinippos turned her from side to side like a heifer being offered for sale, tilted her chin and asked proudly, “Have you ever seen a more desirable maiden?”
Mikon said firmly that it was not wise to make a young girl aware of her beauty.
Krinippos cackled. “If it were a question of a more stupid girl you would be right, but Kydippe is not only fair but intelligent. I myself have taught her. Don’t believe in the gentleness of her eyes and the shyness of her smile, for she has already weighed you and decided how best to benefit by you. Haven’t you, Kydippe?”
Kydippe placed a rosy palm before his toothless mouth, blushed and said, “Oh, grandfather, why are you always so cruel? I couldn’t be calculating if I tried. I probably am not even beautiful in their opinion. You make me ashamed.”
Mikon and I cried out with one voice that she was the fairest maiden we had ever seen, and Mikon expressed his gratitude that he was already married and so could not be tempted to yearn for the moon in the sky.
“Not the moon,” I corrected him, “but the brightest, most dazzling sunrise. Seeing you, Kydippe, I wish that I were a king so that I might win you for my own.”
She tilted her head and looked at me through long lashes. “I am not yet of an age to think of men. But if I should think of someone, it would be of a handsome man whose hearth I would tend and for whom I would weave cloth from the wool of my own sheep. But I am sure that you are mocking me. My clothes are probably pleated in an old-fashioned manner and my shoes ridiculous.”
She was wearing a pair of soft leather shoes dyed red and bound with purple ribbons to her knees.
Krinippos said proudly, “I myself have walked half my life with bare feet and even yet I often take off my shoes lest they be worn needlessly. But this vain girl makes me poor with her demands. As she strokes my beard she whispers softly, ‘Grandfather, buy me some Etruscan shoes.’ As she kisses my forehead she murmurs, ‘Grandfather, today I saw a Phoenician comb that would look well in my hair.’ But if I become angry at her vanity she explains that she is not ornamenting herself for her own sake but for the sake of my position.”
Kydippe scolded him. “Oh, grandfather, how can you tease me so in the presence of strangers? You know well that I am not vain or demanding. But not everyone is like you. Even in a ragged robe and bare feet you are the autocrat of Himera. But my father must wear a golden wreath to distinguish himself from the people and I must ornament myself for sacrificial ceremonies and processions lest some drover or sailor mistakenly pinch me in passing.”
When we left Krinippos’ house Mikon said warningly, “That Kydippe is a heartless girl and just at the age when she wants to test her power over men. Don’t try to win her. In the first place you would not succeed, for her ambition is boundless. But even if you did, she would only cause you suffering, and finally Krinippos would have you killed like an annoying fly.”
But I could not think unkindly of such a wondrously fair maiden, and her innocent vanity was to me merely a childlike desire to charm. When I thought of her it was as though the sun shone on me and soon I ceased to think of anything else. I began to circle Krinippos’ house on the edge of the market place in the hope of catching a glimpse of her.
My only hope of meeting Kydippe was when she went to the marts with her servants and two scar-faced guards. She walked chastely with her eyes down, but she had a wreath on her head, rings in her ears, bracelets on her arms, and soft sandals on her feet.
When nothing else availed I turned to Lars Alsir. He consented to help me but said scornfully, “Are you really content with such worthless pastimes, Turms, when the miraculous games of the gods could be available to you? If you lust for that hard-hearted girl, why not use your powers over her? You will not win her heart with bribes.”
I told him that the very sight of Kydippe drained all my strength.
When she came to look at the Etruscan jewelry she admired a necklace of golden grains which Lars Alsir held against a black cloth so that the light from a hole in the ceiling fell on it. She ashed its price.
Lars Alsir shook his head in regret. “I have already sold it.” And when Kydippe asked the purchaser he mentioned my name, as we had agreed.
“Turms of Ephesus!” cried Kydippe. “I know him. What does he want with such jewelry? I thought he was a
