He admitted having attained an important position in Susa as an adviser on Western affairs, and having won the personal favor of the new king, Xerxes, even before the death of Darius. Now, in the necessary reorganization he, despite his comparative youth, had been entrusted with the observation of Western affairs outside the King’s sphere of influence.
“In Carthage we of course have our Persian House and our ambassador,” he said. “I have come from there and the interests of the King and Carthage are not in conflict but rather in agreement. The Cartha-gi-nian council knows that trade would be impossible if the King were to forbid Carthage the ports of the eastern sea. So, although the merchants of Carthage are so arrogant as to refuse to send earth and water to the King, they have agreed to an immeasurably more important matter. And because of that I have personally left Susa on this long and dangerous journey.”
As we walked he mentioned in passing that in Susa he had a house cared for by a hundred slaves and in Persepolis a modest summer building for whose gardens and fountains fifty slaves sufficed. But he did not keep any wives because he wished to avoid the unpleasantness caused by women, a decision which he said King Xerxes considered praiseworthy. From that I judged how and why Xenodotos had won the new king’s favor although he himself was too sensitive to boast about it.
For my part I did not wish to appear wealthier than I was. I had an attractive spring surrounded by shade trees that I myself had planted and I had had the convivial couches brought to the edge of the spring and had hung holy ribbons on the bushes. The water of the spring was our cooling vessel and Misme served us such simple country food as bread, cheese, cooked vegetables and a roasted pig which I had that morning sacrificed to Hecate. My serving dishes were heavy Etruscan clay ware, but the shallow drinking cups were from Athens and decorated by a skilled artist, for I did not want to flaunt my silver goblets.
Our walk had given Xenodotos a good appetite. He ate heartily and the old slave woman, who had feared the simplicity of her meal, wept with joy when Xenodotos summoned her before him and thanked her for an incomparable meal. When I saw how gracefully that man of the world behaved and how he won the hearts of simple people I began to understand the high position he had achieved and to respect Persian manners.
“Don’t consider this mere pretense, my friend Turms,” he said. “The simple food tasted good in my spice-cloyed mouth, and the country wine still has the flavor of the earth. Also the pig flavored with rosemary was delicious.”
I told him that it was an Etruscan dish for which I had brought back instructions from Fiesole. Before I realized it I was drawing a map on the ground with a stick, showing the location of the large Etruscan cities and describing their wealth and naval forces and the iron smelters of Populonia and Vetulonia. Xenodotos listened attentively, time passed, and Misme exchanged our violet wreaths for rose ones.
As the heavy fragrance of country roses wafted over us, Xenodotos looked around warily, grew serious and said, “We are friends, Turms, and I don’t want to tempt or bribe you. If you will just tell me whether you are for or against the Greeks I will know whether to remain silent or to speak frankly. There is much that I would tell you, knowing that I can trust you.”
I had found refuge in Ephesus, Herakleitos had reared me and I had even fought for lonia for three years. I had followed Dorieus, had shed blood and received scars for Greece. But when I honestly studied my heart I knew that I no longer cared for the Greeks and their customs. The better I had come to know the Etruscans and the more I had traveled in their cities the more I had begun to shun the Greeks. I was not a Roman and had grown away from that which was Greek in me. I was a stranger on earth who did not even know his own origin.
I explained, “The Greeks are admirable in many respects but in my heart I am tired of thera and in this country they are intruders who are elbowing room for themselves. The Greeks and the Greek spirit are rotting everything surrounding them, ruining everything which is there.”
Nor do I understand the reason for my extreme bitterness, but once I became aware of it, it poisoned my mind and turned my belly sour. Perhaps the humiliations of my youth in Ephesus were to blame. Perhaps I had been bound too long to Dorieus to be able to appreciate the Greek in him. Mikon also had betrayed me. Even the Scythians declared that the Greeks were better suited to be slaves and servants than free men.
Xenodotos nodded and said, “I myself am an Ionian, but, speaking honestly, I miss my Persian attire and Persian truth. A Persian is a man of his word and does not betray his companions, but we Greeks are accustomed to deceiving even our gods with ambiguous promises. It is true that nothing black in the world is absolutely black, nor is anything white pure white, but in serving the Persian king’s cause I believe that I am also serving my own people best.”
Realizing that I was not as captivated by the idea as he, he quickly picked up a stick and began to draw a map in the sand to show me how advanced the preparations were for a military expedition. “The King will vanquish Greece by land,” he explained. “For that reason he has secured bases in Trachia. The combined fleets of Phoenicia and lonia will accompany an army the like of which has not been seen before, to assure its maintenance and communications. A bridge of ships as hard as earth is being built across the Bosphorus, and in the event of storms canals have been dug across Trachian peninsulas so that the ships will not have to sail around them. For nine years these preparations have been under way. When the army begins marching from Asia to Europe every step will have been planned. True, Athens is agitating violently throughout the Greek world and has dedicated the output of its silver mines to the construction of new triremes. But actually Athens is rilled with. despair and a spirit of defeat although it tries to appear bold.” Xenodotos smiled his narrow smile and added, “Even the oracle at Delphi is uncertain and gives ambiguous responses.”
He pressed his fingertips together and remarked, “That is why I have come to Rome, from where it is easy to observe what is going on in the Etruscan cities. I myself cannot and must not participate visibly in the conferences. Outwardly it is a question only of the Carthaginians’ and the Etruscans’ own interests in resisting Greek pressure. The Etruscans will not even have to know that the Persian king is financing the arming of Carthage. But it is most important for the Etruscans that their leaders realize in advance the propitiousness of the moment for crushing the Greeks in the West. The goddess of victory will hardly offer them another opportunity like this.”
I took the crock of wine from the spring and filled our cups. The hilltops were turning red and dusk settled on their slopes. The odor of the wine and the roses seemed stronger as the evening cooled.
“Xenodotos,” I said, “be honest. Such thorough preparations and such an enormous army cannot be intended merely for the conquest of the Greek mainland. One does not need a smith’s hammer to kill a mosquito.”
He laughed nervously, sought my eye in the dusk and admitted, “Once Greece belongs to Persia the next step, of course, will be to send armies to the Italian mainland. But the King will remember his allies. You surely know that from friendly cities he demands no more than earth and water. The removal of a single stone from the wall will suffice as token recognition of Persian power.”
It was strange that I, who as a youth had so ardently joined in the Ionian revolt and fought the Persians, should now without hesitation have chosen the supremacy of Persia. But that decision had ripened in my heart and I made the choice with open eyes, once again committed by earthly reason to struggle against the blind forces of Fate.
I said to Xenodotos, “I have made friends in the Etruscan cities and will be glad to talk to them before their leaders meet to drive another yearly nail in the wooden pillar at the temple of Volsinii. I have learned to admire the Etruscans and to respect them and their gods. For their own security, if they wish to remain the masters of their sea, they must support the Carthaginian expedition.”