“Say what you have to say, then we shall know where each of us stands. Everyone has the right to speak and vote and express his opinion, so speak freely. First let us see who wish to go directly to Sicily or Italy, where the Greek cities jealously guard their respective territories and the lands have been partitioned for centuries.”
A number of the men consulted hastily among themselves and declared that a partridge in the hand was better than ten on a branch. Therefore they humbly requested their share of the booty and one of the vessels with which to sail to Sicily.
“It is manly and right that you have spoken so freely,” said Dionysius. “You may have your share of the loot and a generous share, but I cannot let you have a vessel. The ships are my own and all your loot would not suffice to buy one. Still, it is best for us to go our separate ways as soon as possible, so take your share and start swimming towards Sicily with the golden chains around your necks. If you hesitate I will gladly help you over the railing with the tip of my sword. The water is warm and you can determine the direction by the stars.”
He took a few threatening steps and the other men laughingly began jostling the unfortunates towards the side, pretending to toss them overboard. Bitterly regretting their thoughtless words, the group pleaded loudly to be permitted to accompany Dionysius.
He shook his head and sighed. “What changeable creatures you are! One moment you want this, another moment that. But let us again be the same big family in which everyone has the right to express his thoughts freely and to vote as he wishes. Let each of us who wishes to follow me first to Phoenician waters and then to Massilia raise his hand.”
All the men, including Dorieus and me, raised their hands. Only Mikon, smiling silently, did not.
Dionysius moved among the men, patting their shoulders and calling them gallant. But in front of Mikon he paused, his face darkening. “What of you, physician? Do you intend to return home on the back of a dolphin?”
Mikon met his eyes unflinchingly. “I will follow you willingly, Dionysius, and will continue to do so for as long a time as is intended. But where we will go after leaving the Phoenician waters is completely up to fate. For that reason I do not defy the immortals by raising my hand.”
His manner was so docile that Dionysius could not even reproach him.
Turning back to his men, Dionysius shouted, “Tomorrow morning let us have a brisk west wind. For that I have already sacrificed to the Phoenician god on our ‘prow and bathed his face, hands and feet with human blood according to the wishes of Phoenician deities. But to Poseidon and the gods of the sea I shall now offer this golden chain worth several houses and vineyards to prove to you how thoroughly I believe in my good luck. I sacrifice it gladly, knowing that in the near future I shall receive another even more valuable.”
With those words he strode to the prow and threw his chain into the sea. The men groaned upon hearing the splash but, convinced of Dionysius’ belief in his luck, they praised him and began scratching the deck to confirm the sacrifice and conjure up the wind.
Dionysius sent the men to sleep, promising to take the watch himself until daybreak. Again the men praised him, and soon the only sound over the sigh of the sea and the creak of the vessels was a heavy snoring.
I could not sleep for thinking of the unknown future. The sheep’s bones had indicated the west, and whatever other methods of divination Dorieus and I had tried, they likewise had pointed westward. Stubbornly we had set forth for the east, but winged fate would soon take us to the westernmost shore of the sea.
My throat grew dry at the realization that I had lost lonia for all time, and I groped my way through the sleeping men to the water container. Then I climbed to the deck, looked at the silver of the sky and the darkening sea, listened to the slap of the waves and felt the slow rocking of the vessel beneath me.
I was aroused from my thoughts by a faint clanking against the side of the ship. Barefooted and silently I reached Dionysius just as he was pulling something up from the sea hand over hand.
“Are you fishing?” I asked.
Dionysius jumped so that he almost lost his balance. “Oh, it’s only you, Turms,” he said, trying to hide the object behind his back. But his effort was futile, for even in the darkness I recognized the golden chain that he had so ostentatiously thrown into the sea.
He was not at all abashed but laughed and said, “As a literate man you are undoubtedly unprejudiced about offerings and such. My offering to Poseidon was so to speak only allegorical, just as the Ionian sages call their fables of the gods allegories and interpret them in many ways. As a frugal man I naturally tied some string to my chain and fastened the other end firmly to the ship’s prow before throwing the treasure overboard.”
“But what about the west wind that you promised?” I asked.
“I sensed it already in the evening from the color of the sea and the sighs of the darkness,” confessed Dionysius calmly. “Mark my words, even without the chain we will have a brisk west wind. You will see that the sun rises behind a cloud and that with the wind we will have a drenching rain.”
His artlessness frightened me, for even the greatest scoffer retains in some corner of his heart a certain respect toward offerings.
“Don’t you really believe in the deities?” I asked.
“I believe what I believe,” he answered evasively, “but one thing I do know is that even if I had thrown a hundred chains into the sea we would not have had a west wind unless the sea had previously indicated its coming.”
6.
As Dionysius had predicted, the early morning brought a wet squall that pushed us eastward with creaking masts. So violent was the churning of the sea that Dorieus, still suffering from the blow on his head, vomited time and again. Many of Dionysius’ men likewise lay on the deck, clinging to the railing and unable to eat.
The west wind drove westbound merchant ships to shelter, leaving the deserted sea to Dionysius. His luck accompanied him, for when we had reached the straits between Rhodes and the mainland the wind died down. Dawn brought with it a land wind and a veritable fleet of vessels loaded to the gunwales with grain and oil for the Persian navy near Miletus. Their crews greeted us gaily, misled by the Phoenician ship and the Persian emblems which Dionysius displayed.
Presumably Dionysius had little interest in such cargo and merely sought to prove to himself and to his men that he was still waging the Ionian war. We seized the largest of the ships before its crew realized what was happening. When Dionysius learned that the vessels were Greek ships in the service of the Persians he immediately ordered both our penteconters to scuttle them. We had no need of grain or oil, nor could we have transported them.
With oars and sails we headed for Cyprus and on the way surprised a large and richly laden merchant vessel which also carried passengers. As we surrounded it and clambered up its steep sides its crew vainly attempted to ward off our attack. The passengers, recovered from their initial shock, appeared with upraised hands and in various languages promised large ransoms for themselves, their wives and their daughters. But Dionysius as a cautious man had no desire to spare anyone who might identify him or his men in the future. So he felled the male passengers himself with swift blows of his axe and left the women to his men while the ship was being plundered.
“Make haste, my clansmen,” he said. “Although I cannot deny you the joys which only a woman can give, remember that I will kill with my own hands anyone who attempts to conceal a woman on one of our vessels. It would create only bickering and confusion.”
The men pulled at their beards and stared with burning eyes at the weeping women.
Dionysius laughed and added, “Remember also, my gallant warriors, that every joy has its price. Whoever utilizes the short time at our disposal in gratifying childish passions instead of in sensibly collecting loot will lose his share of it.”