jewels that she had stolen from the temple. Between her breasts was suspended, like an evil eye, the large moonstone I had given her. The golden Etruscan chain on which it hung was not my gift, since I had forgotten all about the matter during our busy days in Himera.
“Dionysius, mighty warrior of the sea,” she said in greeting. “I am happy indeed to see you after having heard so much about your exploits and, in all confidence, also about the treasures which you have stored in the vaults of the tyrant Krinippos.”
Dionysius looked her up and down, then cursed. “Are you mad, the three of you, or has a rabid dog bitten you, that you should reveal our secrets to a woman?”
Arsinoe bowed her head humbly. “I am but a weak woman,” she conceded, “but believe me, fair Dionysius, the deepest secrets of men are safer in my heart than are your treasures in the vaults of the greedy Krinippos.” She smiled, a new, wistful smile that I had never seen before.
Dionysius rubbed his eyes and shook his massive head. “The only thing which my slave mother could teach me was not to trust sailors. I myself have learned that no woman’s word is to be trusted. But when you look at me with those sad eyes, you priestess, I am overcome by a great temptation to believe that you among all women might be an exception.”
“Arsinoe,” I cried, “I forbid you to look at any man in that manner!”
But I might as well have spoken to a wall. Arsinoe did not even notice me, but seated herself lightly on the edge of Dionysius’ couch. Tanakil brought forth another pitcher of wine and Arsinoe offered Dionysius a goblet filled to the brim.
Absently he splashed the first drop on the floor and said, “I no longer remember just what I said, but your words amazed me. Strong I have been called by both men and women, but no one has yet dared call me fair, not even my own mother. Why did you use that word?”
Arsinoe rested her chin in her palm and with tilted head studied Dionysius. “Do not distract me with your glances, man of the sea, for you make me blush. Perhaps it isn’t proper for a woman to speak in this manner to a man, but when I entered and saw you there with those massive gold rings in your ears I was overcome with trembling. It was as though I saw a terrifyingly big and beautiful black-bearded god.” Rapturously, she continued, “Manly beauty is so rare. So rare and so dissimilar. Some may admire a slender youth-I, never. No, give me a man with limbs hard as logs, a curly beard from which a woman may hang with her full weight, and eyes bigger than those of the fairest ox. Ah, Dionysius,” she breathed, “I respect your fame, but most of all I admire you because you are the fairest man I have ever seen.” She raised her hand and touched the golden ring in his ear with slender fingers.
Dionysius recoiled as at the blow of a whip. “By Poseidon,” he muttered. He reached toward her cheek as though to smooth it, then recovered himself, swung to the other side of the couch and leaped to his feet. He cursed loudly twice, three times.
“Slut!” he roared. “Slut and once again slut, not one word of it do I believe.”
Cursing, he rushed from the room. We heard him snatch his shield from the entrance hall and stumble down the stairs, but before we could reach him he had recovered himself, plunged out of the house and into the street, slamming the gate behind him.
We returned to the room, glancing helplessly at one another. Arsinoe recovered herself first. “Dear Turms,” she coaxed playfully, “come with me. You are unnecessarily agitated. I have matters to discuss with you.”
As we left I saw Dorieus strike Mikon across the face so hard that he fell against the wall and slid to the floor with one hand holding his cheek.
2.
When we were alone I stared at Arsinoe as at a stranger. Seeking the proper words with which to begin I impulsively spoke the wrong ones. “Aren’t you ashamed to step half naked into the presence of a strange man?”
“But you want me to dress simply,” she protested. “Hundreds of times you have said that you cannot satisfy my small wants and that within these few days I have plunged you into debt for years to come with my excessive demands. Could I have dressed more simply than this?”
As I opened my mouth to reply, she laid a restraining hand on my arm, bit her lip and said beseechingly, “No, Turms, don’t speak before you have considered your words well, for I can stand no more.”
“You can stand no more!” I cried in amazement.
“Precisely. Even the patience of a woman in love has its limits. During these days in Himera I have all too clearly realized that I cannot please you, try as I may. Ah, Turms, how could this have happened to us!”
She flung herself onto the bed, buried her face in her arms and began to weep. Each sob wrenched my heart so that at length I began to wonder whether I was not, after all, the cause of all her misdeeds. Then, remembering Dorieus’ averted gaze and Mikon’s guilty face, I forgot Dionysius. The blood rushed to my head and I raised my hand to strike her. But the hand remained aloft, for I suddenly noticed the tempting helplessness of her beautiful body as it quivered under the sheer fabric. The natural result was that, with her arms around my neck, I again experienced one of those moments when all else faded and I seemed to be resting on a cloud with Arsinoe.
Soon she roused herself and touched my damp forehead with cool fingers. “Why are you always so cruel to me, Turms, when I love you so madly?”
Nor did her face belie her words. She spoke in all sincerity. “How can you say that?” I reproached her. “Aren’t you ashamed to look at me with those clear eyes when I have just learned that you have been deceiving me with my two best friends.”
“That is not so,” she protested, but her glance evaded mine.
“If you really loved me-” I began and could go no farther, for anger and humiliation throttled the words.
Arsinoe grew serious and in an entirely different tone continued, “I am a vacillating person, I know. After all, I am a woman. Perhaps you cannot always be sure of me for I am not always sure of myself. The one thing of which you may be certain, now and forever, is that I love you and only you. Would I otherwise have abandoned my old life?”
She spoke with such sincerity that I felt her words to be true. My bitterness faded into regret. “Mikon’s words revealed-”
She pressed her soft palm against my lips. “Don’t go on. I admit it, but it was not to my liking. It was only for your sake that I consented, Turms. You yourself said that your life was in danger if it came out too soon that I was not Aura.”
“But Mikon said-” I began again.
“Of course,” she admitted. “But you must realize that a woman’s pride in such matters must also be considered. When I was compelled to yield for your sake I could not behave like a lowly Siculian girl.”
“Silence!” I begged. “How dare you boast? But what of Dorieus?”
“Naturally I talked to him,” Arsinoe conceded, “after Tanakil told me of his plans. He is a handsome man and would tempt any woman.
Perhaps he misinterpreted my interest, and it is not my fault that I am beautiful.”
“He, too!” I groaned and reached for my sword.
Arsinoe calmed me. “Nothing has happened. I explained to Dorieus that it could not. He asked my forgiveness and we agreed to be merely friends.” She stared into the distance thoughtfully. “You see, Turms, I may be of assistance to him in his political plans. He is not so stupid as to antagonize one who can help him.”
Hope and doubt struggled within me. “Do you swear that Dorieus has not touched you?”
“Touched me-touched me-stop repeating that! Perhaps he has touched me a little. But he does not tempt me as a man, that I will swear by any god’s name you wish.”
“Do you swear it by our love?”
“By our love,” she repeated after only a moment’s hesitation.
But I saw the doubt in her eyes and rose. “Good. I shall find out for myself.”
“Don’t!” she pleaded in alarm, then shrugged. “Or go if you wish, since you don’t believe me. It is best so. But I would not have expected such treatment from you, Turms.”
