cave.
“Hiuls!” I called. “Hiuls!”
The boy crawled to me like a Siccanian, rose upright against my knee and looked at me admiringly. In the bright sunlight I studied the muscular limbs of the five-year-old, his morose lower lip, his brows and eyes. Nor did I have to see the birthmark of the Heraklidae on his thigh to know that it had not been etched there after birth. Dorieus’ melancholy eyes looked at me out of his eyes, and in his chin, mouth and brows I saw Dorieus’ merciless face.
I did not hate the boy because of it, for how could I have hated a child? Nor did I hate Arsinoe, because she was what she was and could not help it. I hated only my own stupidity for not realizing the truth earlier. Even Tanakil had been shrewder than I and the Siccanians in their secret wisdom had immediately named the boy Erkle when they met him by the sacred rock. But love blinds a person even to what may be as clear as day. I wondered whether my love for Arsinoe was beginning to fade despite my bittersweet enjoyment of her, or whether I had merely outgrown the period of blindness.
I was quite calm as I entered the cave with the boy. I sat down beside Arsinoe and when she again began to chatter about the glories of Susa and the King’s favors, I drew the boy to me.
Holding him between my knees and patting his coarse hair I said with assumed indifference, “So Hiuls is Dorieus’ son. That is why Dorieus wanted to kill me, to obtain you and him.”
Arsinoe continued her own thoughts and had time to say that Susa would be best even for the boy before she comprehended my words. She sat up in alarm, covering her mouth.
I gave a short laugh. “That is why it was so easy for you to swear by our son. I should have believed your hair instead of your lying tongue.”
Arsinoe was amazed by my lack of anger. What would I have gained by poisoning myself with hatred when it would have been to no avail?
She pulled the boy into her lap protectively. “Why are you always so cruel, Turms? You always begin to pry into old matters during our moments of happiness. Of course Hiuls is Dorieus’ son although I myself wasn’t quite sure of it until I saw Dorieus’ birthmark on his thigh. I was terribly afraid that you would be angry. I would have told you earlier but I was sure that you would notice it yourself in time. As a woman I am sometimes compelled to lie to you because of your hot temper.”
I wondered which of us really was quicker to anger but said nothing. Taking out my worn knife I gave it to the boy.
“You may have a knife because even as a boy you must be a man and worthy of your birth. I have taught you all that you can comprehend at this age and will leave you my own shield and sword since I once tossed your father’s shield into the sea as an offering in a moment of danger. Always remember that the blood of Herakles and the goddess of Eryx flows in your veins and that you are therefore of divine birth. I don’t doubt that after our departure the Siccanians will ask the Pythagorean to educate you to your prospective rank, for I’m sure they expect much of you.”
Arsinoe began to shriek. “Are you out of your mind? Do you intend to leave your only son among barbarians?”
She tore at my hair and hammered at my back with her fists as I went to a corner of the cave and from under a stone slab pulled forth the shield that I had hidden there. The boy was at first alarmed by her screams but soon began to play with the metallic shield and sword. One had only to see him clutch the sword hilt in his tiny fist to realize that he was Dorieus’ son.
Realizing that nothing could shake me, Arsinoe sank onto the ground and began to weep bitterly. Her tears were not false, for she loved the boy more intensely than a she-wolf its cub. Touched by her sorrow, I sat beside her and began quietly to caress her black hair.
“Arsinoe, I am not leaving the boy here because of hatred or a desire for revenge. If I could, I would gladly take him with us for the sake of the friendship that bound Dorieus and me. I don’t bear a grudge against Dorieus because you are as you are and he could do nothing. What man could resist you?”
Vanity prompted her to listen to me. “This is Hiul’s place,” I said, “because he is the son of Dorieus and thus the heir to the land of Eryx. The Siccanians have always called him Erkle and have smiled every time they have looked at him. Indeed I don’t think they would permit us to take the boy away but would rather kill us. Nothing, however, hinders you from remaining with your son if you wish.”
“No, no,” she said hastily. “I wouldn’t remain in the forest at any price.”
To assuage her sorrow I talked to her encouragingly. “I will mention Hiuls to Xenodotos. Through him the Persians will learn that a future king, a descendant of Herakles, is growing up in the Siccanian forest. Perhaps your son will some day rule not only the forest and the land of Eryx but all Sicily under the protection of the Persian king. I shall see to that, for the Great King will soon rule the entire known world, perhaps during our lifetime.”
Arsinoe’s eyes began to gleam at the thought and she clapped her hands. “Your plan is wiser than Dorieus’. He came to Segesta as a stranger and no one there loved him except Tanakil.”
“Now that we are in agreement thus far,” I said with a heavy heart, “let us talk also about Misme. I remember how sarcastically you smiled when I gave her that name. Was it because of the fact that Misme and Mikon are a bit alike? Something already then must have told me the truth and made me give the girl a name that is suggestive of Mikon.”
Arsinoe pretended amazement but I seized her wrists, shook her and declared, “The time for lies is past. Misme is Mikon’s daughter. You slept with him on the journey from Eryx to Himera and it was because of you that he began to drink. You played with him as a cat plays with a mouse, to feel your power, and finally became pregnant by him. That was too much for him. He drank the Siccanians’ poisonous potion and drowned himself in the swamp because he could no longer meet my eyes. That is the truth, isn’t it? Or shall I call Misme and show you Mikon’s round cheeks and full mouth?”
Arsinoe beat her knees with her fists and shouted angrily, “At least she has my eyes! The goddess was spiteful to let the poor girl inherit Mikon’s short stature, but perhaps her limbs will yet straighten. Let it be as you wish, Turms, but it is all your fault for leaving me alone for days at a time. Poor Mikon loved me so bitterly that I could not help pitying him now and then, although I certainly didn’t intend to become pregnant. Even that is your fault for taking me away from Segesta so quickly that my silver ring remained behind.”
Noticing my calmness, she began to chatter in relief. “Mikon boasted so often of his experiences on the golden ship of Astarte that I was tempted to show him what else a man can experience in a woman’s arms. He believed himself irresistible because Aura lost consciousness at his touch, but that was just her weakness. He could not compete with you in that respect, Turms, although he had his pleasing features.”
“I don’t doubt that!” I shouted, finally losing my temper. “I understand and forgive everything, but what is wrong with me? Am I sterile or does someone else always manage to dabble in the spring at full moon ahead of me?”
Arsinoe thought for a moment. “I think you really must be sterile but don’t let it trouble you. A man who is given to meditation doesn’t need children and in our times many a man might envy you for having everything without assuming responsibility for the consequences. Perhaps it resulted from the thunderbolt of which you have told me, or perhaps you were ill as a child. Or it might be a gift of the goddess, since she has always favored pleasure and only with reluctance has submitted to its consequences.”
I would not have believed it possible that I could discuss such difficult matters with Arsinoe so understandingly and without the desire for revenge. It proved how much I had grown during my years with the Siccani without even realizing it. For once a dish is broken, anger is of no use. Instead, it is best to collect the pieces and make of them what one can.
But when I had confirmed the fact that Misme was not my child either, I felt myself naked and so cold that nothing could warm me. As a man I had to provide my own purpose in life, and probably nothing is more difficult. It is easier to beget children and to thrust the responsibility on them while washing one’s own hands.
I felt myself so naked that I retired to the solitude of the mountain for a few days. I did so not to see signs and omens but merely to listen to myself. Doubt swept over me and I no longer believed in my power to summon the wind. Everything was but blind chance. It was for Dorieus that the earth had trembled and the mountain spat fire when we had approached the Sicilian shore. Again it had rumbled at the moment of his death. He had even begotten a son. I alone was vagrant without knowing whence I had come or where I was going or why. I was sterile as a stone and my love brought suffering radier than joy.
