The Etruscan by Mika Waltari

Posted by admin_akashic on Mar 10th, 2022 in Stories

The entire day passed without our seeing Dorieus. When darkness fell and the stars were lighted in the alien sky over Himera I could no longer restrain my uneasiness.

I said to Mikon, “We must return to Tanakil’s house no matter how reluctantly. Something has happened to Dorieus and I would not be surprised if that proud woman had punctured his throat with a hairpin as he slept to avenge the loss of her honor.”

“As a physician I can assure you that in this condition, with his head still thick from wine and a sickening taste in his mouth, a man exaggerates his misdeeds and imagines that he will never again be able to look a decent person in the eye. What did we actually do that was so bad? I seem to remember your dancing the Phoenix dance on the table to show off your agility to the girls, but chiefs and councilors have done the same under the influence of wine and it hasn’t blackened their reputation.

“Dorieus is a dangerous man,” Mikon went on, “and, like most soldiers, limited to thinking that problems can best be solved by killing. He was born to create dissension and I would not grieve if we were obliged to arrange an honorable funeral. But I think that in your moonless mood you are a little premature. Therefore let us courageously find out what is wrong and at the same time bring gifts to Tanakil in gratitude for her hospitality.”

The plan cheered me greatly. “You are the wisest man I have met. In truth, I am not greedy and I care little for valuables. The goddess Artemis has appeared to me in the guise of Hecate and promised, with upraised poker and black dog barking at her feet, that I will never know want. So let us give Tanakil this ten-mina chain that I stole. I don’t know myself why I slipped it into my robe, but it must have been for the reason that we may now placate Tanakil with it.”

When we reached the market place we saw that many merchants were still at their stalls. We shared a small skin of wine and it cheered me immeasurably. We also ate some fish and some of the good Himeran ash-surfaced bread. Then we continued on our way, stumbling through the dark streets to the western end of the city. Fortunately a torch was flickering feebly at the entrance to Tanakil’s house. From that we knew that she was expecting us, so we opened the creaking gate, entered the house, hung our weapons in the entrance hall and stepped into the lighted banquet room.

There on a convivial couch lounged Dorieus, fully alive although glowering, and clothed in such magnificent Phoenician garments that at first glance we did not recognize him. Opposite him, on another couch, lay Tanakil looking equally unhappy. Her cheeks were sunken and her eyes were shadowed although she had tried to improve her appearance with color. Between the couches stood a bronze-legged table with food, and the mixing vessel on the floor was half filled with a yellowish wine. The room had been cleaned, the mosaic floor washed, and the household god righted.

“Tanakil,” I begged, “please forgive us our shameful behavior of last night. Your hospitality was overwhelming and we exhausted wretches, unaccustomed as we were to mint wine, could not stand it.”

Tanakil looked at Mikon with her hand before her mouth and asked, “You are a Greek physician, aren’t you? Tell me, can new teeth be made to replace those that a person has lost?”

Horrified, I demanded, “Has Dorieus in a drunken fit knocked out some of your teeth?”

Dorieus cursed. “Don’t talk nonsense, Turms.” With trembling hands he filled a cup from the mixing vessel and drank deeply, spilling some of the wine on his chin.

“Dorieus hasn’t harmed me,” said Tanakil defensively, “so don’t insult him with your cruel insinuations. He has behaved in every way as a man of noble birth should behave toward a woman.”

I was about to express my belief when Dorieus exclaimed, “Where in Hades have you been, you stony-hearted wretches? I don’t know why I should have such friends and shield them in battle when they desert me at the very moment when I need them most.”

“Yes,” asked Tanakil, “where have you been hiding? I am suffering keenly because of a few missing teeth although I hadn’t even thought of them until Dorieus pointed out that I have no other flaws. Tyrrhenian physicians are said to make teeth of ivory which they fasten with gold bands. I am not worried about my back teeth, for the more good food one eats the faster they wear down, so that bad teeth are actually an indication of good birth. But that doesn’t console me since I lack a few front teeth as well. Now I dare not even speak before Dorieus except with my mouth covered.”

Dorieus slapped his cup down so hard that it cracked. “Stop harping about your teeth, my pet! Can’t you talk about anything else? I only mentioned them because I saw you lying with your mouth open when I awakened at noon. In fact, I meant only well when I said that you had no other flaws, for many a woman at your age has even fewer teeth.”

Tanakil began to weep noisily, smearing the color on her sunken cheeks. “Now you are complaining about my age, although you didn’t care last night.”

“Silence, woman!” roared Dorieus, the veins at his temples bulging. “I can stand no more. If you continue I shall leave the house and it will be your fault if I kill every Himeran who crosses my path.”

He clutched his head and moaned, “Friends, friends, why did you ever desert me! My head is on fire, my stomach aches and my limbs are helpless. I have been vomiting all day and only now have I been able to eat a few simple mouthfuls.”

Mikon worriedly tried his head, rolled up his eyelids, studied his eyes and throat and pressed his stomach. While Dorieus was groaning I extended the golden chain to Tanakil with the hope that it would compensate for the damage we had done.

She accepted the chain readily and placed it around her neck. “I am not a petty woman,” she said. “What good are riches if one cannot hold a banquet for one’s friends? It is true that the vases you broke were valuable, but all vases break in time. I don’t think that even my household god was insulted, for early this morning I gave him new clothes and burned incense before him. So I suffered no damage and accept your beautiful gift merely not to displease you. The only harm that has resulted from your visit is the fact that one of the girls who entertained you has been struck dumb.”

Mikon and I glanced guiltily at each other, for neither of us remembered exactly what had happened. Mikon presumed that the girl had been frightened by my violent goat dance, but it turned out that the girl in question was the one Mikon had carried into the garden. Mikon declared that the girl must have slept on the dewy grass and that this had caused her throat to swell. At least, he didn’t remember having done anything to hurt her.

Tanakil replied that the matter was serious and reflected unfavorably on our reputations as strangers. “Himerans are a superstitious people,” she said. “Also I and my house will fall under a shadow because of this incident, for everyone knows that a person who suddenly loses his power of speech is bewitched, unless of course he has unwittingly hurt some excessively sensitive god.”

Mikon became agitated like all men who are conscious of their guilt. “The only god we could have hurt was the foam-born, but by her magic belt I swear that we honored her in every way that I learned on Aphrodite’s sacrificial ship, and the girl certainly did not lose her speech during that time. Indeed she used it loudly to express her joy at the completeness of my education.”

“I am not blaming you,” said Tanakil, “for you are a gentle and inoffensive man. I have already sent the girl some compensation on your behalf but her parents are alarmed and fear that the girl will never be married if she remains dumb.”

Tanakil sent for the girl that we might see her condition for ourselves. When she finally entered with her father and mother I had difficulty in meeting the accusing looks of those simple people.

Mikon tried to hide behind us but when the girl saw him she ran to him joyously, knelt to kiss his hands and held them fondly to her cheek. With a helpless glance at her parents Mikon raised the girl to her feet, embraced her and kissed her lips.

No more was needed, for the girl drew a deep breath and burst into speech. She talked, wept, shouted and laughed until her parents, elated though they were, began to feel ashamed and told her to be quiet. Mikon gave them a handful of silver coins, whereupon they left rejoicing at their good fortune and taking their daughter with them.

When the matter had been so happily resolved I thanked Tanakil for all her goodness to us and said that we must go to seek permanent lodgings in the city.

Hastily she said, “My house is unassuming, I know, and you have probably been accustomed to the luxury of lonia. But if you don’t scorn my house, remain as my guests for as long as you wish. The longer you remain the happier I will be.”

To strengthen her invitation and to prove that she did not extend it in the hope of gain, she disappeared into an inner room and reappeared with gifts for each of us. Onto Dorieus’ thumb she slipped a gold ring, to Mikon she presented an ivory-framed wax tablet, and to me a moonstone suspended from a cord. The valuable gifts did much to cheer us.

Tanakil then had three beds placed in a row for us. They had copper feet and crossed iron bottoms and were made by the Tyrrhenians. On them were placed soft mattresses. We would have fallen asleep immediately had not Dorieus groaned and tossed. Finally he threw off the covers and snapped that as a soldier he was not accustomed to soft mattresses but preferred the hard ground with a shield as his cover. In the darkness he groped his way out of the room, bumping into chests and overturning objects. Then we heard no more and slept soundly through the night.