goddess was with me as Hecate.
“Let us continue,” I suggested, finished my wine and tossed the dice once more, gloriously confident of victory. I leaned over to read my throw, for the Etruscans did not mark the sides of the dice with dots but with letters, and saw that I had made the best possible throw. Lars Arnth should not even have tried, but he did and lost. In that manner I won three times in succession.
The noble youths had forgotten their mockery and with bated breath were following the roll of the dice. One of them said, “I have never seen such playing! His hands do not even tremble and his breath is not quick.”
That was true, for I watched the fluttering sparrows and rejoiced in the blue of the autumn sky fully as much as I participated in the game. A thin red had touched the slender cheeks of Arnth Velthuru and his eyes shone brightly although he cared little whether he won or lost, but merely enjoyed the excitement of the game.
“Shall we breathe?” he asked when we were even and he took back the third chip.
I let my wine cup be filled, drank with him and suggested, “Let us have one more throw to see which of us wins, which loses. Then I must leave.”
“As you wish,” he said and in his excitement made the first throw. He apologized immediately and remarked, “A bad throw but I deserved it.”
I won by only one point, which was best since it softened his defeat, then I rose to leave.
“Don’t forget your winnings,” exclaimed Lars Arnth and tossed the ivory chip to me. Laughingly I caught it in the air and remarked that winning was not really important. A greater joy had been in meeting him and playing the exciting game.
The youths stared at me open-mouthed but Arnth Velthuru smiled his thin attractive smile and said, “I shall send my slave to bring you your winnings either tonight or tomorrow morning. Remind me of it if I should forget.”
But he did not forget the matter. Only when his handsomely clothed keeper of the money that same night brought to the inn a talent of silver in the form of twelve stamped bars did I realize that he had meant a whole talent.
A talent of silver was so much money that I could easily have built a house, decorated and furnished it beautifully, planted a garden and bought slaves to care for the house. I decided that after that I would no longer dice in Tarquinia and to that resolve I clung despite temptation.
So it was that I returned to Rome a wealthy man after the Volscians had quieted for the winter. Nevertheless I followed my original plan of supporting myself by my own hands and signed up as an ordinary sailor on one of the grain ships sailing from Tarquinia to Rome.
On a foggy day in late autumn I again arrived at the shore by the cattle market, but this time along the bank of the Tiber and with my shoulder bloody from pulling the heavy hawser of the grain ship. In an ordinary goatskin sack I had as the fruit of my journey as much good silver as a man could carry and as a lowly sailor I could perhaps have brought it ashore without the knowledge of the tax collectors. But I thought it best to reveal it to them so that they might enter it in the state records. It might prove useful to me to have it known that I had become wealthy through my own efforts, and I no longer wanted to be known as Tertius Valerius’ parasite.
My silver aroused amazement in the captain and the sailors and they swore laughingly that they would not have hesitated to kill me and toss me overboard had they known of my treasure. But the bookkeeper paid my wages in copper without a murmur and I put the coins carefully in my pouch. A frugal man was respected in Rome.
With the sack of silver on my back, my clothes ragged, my face bearded and my shoulder rubbed raw by the hawser, I once again walked the narrow streets of Rome and breathed the marsh-polluted air. Near the temple of Mercury I saw the same half-blind augur with his worn staff and soiled beard waiting for some credulous stranger to whom he might show the sights of Rome and for whom he might predict a bright future. Rome was already familiar to me; the worn stones in the streets responded familiarly to my feet; the cattle bellowed familiarly in the market place. Longing burned my body as I hastened to Tertius Valerius’ house.
The gate was open, but when I tried to enter, the gatekeeper slave began to shout and to wave his stick at me. Only when I called him by name did he recognize me. Tertius Valerius was at a Senate meeting, he said, but the mistress was home.
Misme, round-cheeked and curly-haired, ran across the yard to me and hugged my knees. I lifted her into my lap and kissed her, but Mikon’s eyes looked back at me from her face. She wrinkled her nose, sniffed my clothes and said accusingly, “You smell bad.” She struggled out of my lap.
That brought me to my senses. Carefully I went inside with the hope of seeing the housekeeper so that I might bathe and change my clothes before meeting Arsinoe. But at that very moment Arsinoe rushed in, paused to stare at me with her white forehead wrinkling in anger, and cried out, “You, Turms! And how you look. I might have guessed.”
My joy died and flinging the sack from my shoulder I emptied it so that the bars of silver rang on the floor. Arsinoe stooped to pick one up, weighed it in her hand and stared at me in disbelief. I held out the new-fashioned earrings that I had bought in Veil and a brooch which the most skilled goldsmith in Tarquinia had made.
Arsinoe squeezed my hand with the jewelry and despite my dirty clothes she hugged me to her and kissed my bearded face time and again. “Oh, Turms, if you knew how I have longed for you and through what agonizing times we have lived under the threat of the Volscians! And you have wandered without a care through spring and summer until the dark of autumn. How could you?”
I reminded her coolly that I had sent word of myself to her whenever it was possible, just as I had heard that she was well. But I felt the warmth of her arm and the smoothness of her shoulder and had to relent. After all, she was Arsinoe, and no matter what she did or desired my glow was not diminished. I wondered that I had been able to live so long without her.
She read her triumph in my eyes, drew a deep breath and whispered weakly, “No, no, Turms. First you must bathe and eat and don clean clothes.”
But I was no longer a Greek and clothes meant nothing. My mantle fell to the floor of the court, my shirt was dropped at the entrance to Arsinoe’s room and my worn shoes were kicked off beside her bed. She was Arsinoe, her nakedness responded to mine, her embrace to mine, her breath to my own hot breath. The goddess smiled from her capricious face and her darkening eyes, enticing, persuasive, unforgettable. That is how I want to remember Arsinoe.
6.
During the winter I moved among the people of Rome, even among the disreputable elements of Suburra, that I might learn human nature. My journey had taught me not to be too careful of my company or to choose my friends because of the possible benefit that might result. I sought only people to whom I could feel close, and they could be found just as easily among the poor as among the nobles.
In a Suburran brothel I found myself playing dice with the bookkeeper of an iron ore ship from Populonia. The Roman smiths needed much iron that winter and when the bookkeeper had lost his money he tore his braid and thoughtlessly offered me a free voyage to Populonia for just one more throw. I won that also, and he swore to fulfill his promise since he well knew that he would not be welcome in Suburra if he failed to pay his gaming debts.
“I have brought difficulties upon myself,” he said, “but I have probably deserved them because of my frivolity. At least you must wear Etruscan clothes and try to act like an Etruscan if you possibly can. I shall take you to Populonia as I promised but the rest is in your own hands. At the present time the custodians of iron ore do not welcome strangers.”
I consoled him and indicated that I could speak Etruscan effortlessly although I had previously pretended to know little, and returned the money that I had won from him so that he might seek solace in wine and in the company of the girls of the house. When I greeted him at his ship the following morning I was clothed in my beautiful Etruscan attire with the peaked cap. He was happy to see that I was not an unsig-nificant person, declared that I could pass for an Etruscan as well as anyone else and assured me that he would keep his promise. But storms were raging at sea, and his commander wanted a return cargo from Rome. The Senate had promised to exchange the iron for ox hides but was laggard about it, as was its custom, and haggled about the price.
It was therefore spring before we could leave, and we sailed from the mouth of the Roman river just two
