But the Siccanians’ Erkle, despite his youth, was equally realistic. Seeing that Hamilcar’s center was hopelessly broken and his left wing collapsing, Erkle quickly dispatched his Greek teacher, a green branch in his hand, to tyrant Theron of Agrigentum, and sent his troops to attack the Elymians from the rear as they were victoriously pursuing the Agrigentians. Through all the succeeding days they killed and robbed the retreating Carthaginian forces and Theron was so grateful for the assistance that he sent Hiuls a golden shield, a golden chain and the golden eagle of Agrigentum to fasten on his shield. But Hiuls, though he accepted the remainder, rejected the eagle since he did not wish to bind the Siccani to Theron.
Undoubtedly, as I myself had said to Hiuls, a talented politician must consider only his own people and forget the laws of honesty and honor that prevail among ordinary men. But in his actions I recognized all too well the shade of Dorieus who, having gained the dog crown, was ready to desert Dionysius and his men.
When I saw what had happened I no longer wished to find a haven among the Siccani but returned to the shore to share the fate of the Etruscans. We decided not to surrender our arms, for the fate of a slave did not please us, but instead to sell our lives dearly. In the darkness we manned the two fastest vessels, thrust them out to sea and, regardless of rank, seized the oars.
Noticing the two ships making for the sea, Tyrant Gelon began to roar so loudly that we heard his curses above the crackle of the burning vessels on the shore. Then we said to one another, “Tonight Etruscan lives are cheap and the gods do not watch over us at sea. Let us avenge the death of our comrades by sinking a Greek trireme as a sign that the sea still belongs to the Tyrrhenians.”
Our determination saved us, for the Syracusan triremes were not expecting an attack and were preparing to sink us as we sought to flee. As they backed water and flashed signal lights to one another we increased our speed to the utmost and almost simultaneously both our rams struck the side of one of the triremes with a crash of oaken planks. Immediately the mighty vessel tilted and its Greeks fell into the sea. Our attack was so unexpected that they did not at first even know what had happened, for we heard the commander shout that he had hit a reef. Quickly we rowed free of the sinking vessel, bumped into another trireme and slid into the protective darkness of the sea without ourselves realizing how it had all happened.
We rowed through the night and towards morning a wind rose and storm clouds pursued us and drove our vessels toward the Italian coast. Finally we had to put ashore at Cumae to repair the damage and obtain provisions. Here Tyrant Demadotos welcomed us in a friendly manner, but when he heard about the battle of Himera and the crushing defeat of Carthage, he said, “Legally and by testament I am the heir of Tar-quinius, the last ruler of Rome, although I still have not received compensation for his property. I have never been ill-disposed toward the Etruscans, but I must think of my responsibilities toward my city and my family. Therefore, I greatly fear that I must hold both vessels as security until King Tarquinius’ legacy has been clarified.”
While we were in Cumae, more as prisoners than as guests, disturbing news came from Poseidonia. There a noisy crowd had robbed the shops of the Carthaginian merchants and the Tyrrhenian storehouses, but instead of punishing the criminals the city’s autocrat had imprisoned the Carthaginians and Etruscans, ostensibly for their own security.
But even more alarming news awaited us. Over the sea, on the wings of the goddess of victory, came news that the Athenians had completely destroyed the Persian fleet in the straits of Salamis near Athens. The-Great King himself had had to flee back to Asia by land lest the Greeks destroy his bridge of ships across the Bosphorus and cut off his escape. True, the mighty Persian army had plundered and burned Athens and overturned the images of the gods, but it had suffered heavy losses at Thermopylae and its wintering in Greece would be difficult with Athenian ships controlling the seas to Asia. Nor could the Persian army, weakened by hunger and cold, be expected to vanquish the Spartan-led Greek land forces the following spring, when only three hundred Spartans had been able to hold them at Thermopylae until the Athenians had had time to transport their people to the safety of the islands.
Although I knew the Greek habit of exaggerating success, the same news came from so many directions that I had to believe it. Thus the Etruscan expedition to Himera became purposeless, for I had tried to console myself by thinking that the Etruscans’ blood had not been shed in vain since even in dying they had prevented the Greek cities in the west from giving aid to their mother country.
Upon hearing of our plight Lars Arnth Velthuru sent Demadotos a message in which he threatened to withdraw all Tarquinian merchants from Cumae and confiscate all Cumaean supplies in Tarquinia unless both warships and their men were immediately released. Gelon for his part sent a herald from Syracuse to declare that he would consider it a hostile act if Demadotos were to free warships which had interfered in Sicily’s internal affairs.
Demadotos sighed and groaned, clutched his head and lamented, “What misfortune sent your vessels to our harbor? My weak heart cannot endure such conflict.”
We replied that the traditional friendship between Cumae and the Etruscan seaports had prompted us to seek refuge in his harbor.
“Yes, yes, undoubtedly,” he said. “But Gelon of Syracuse is a powerful and ugly man. If he takes offense I will be lost and so will Cumaean trade.”
He pondered the matter and finally found a solution. “We have our famous oracle, Hierofila, who inherited her position from antiquity even before there was a city at Cumae. The gods speak through her mouth and I doubt whether even Gelon dare question her decision.”
He himself did not wish to go to the sibyl’s cave, pleading that it was a trying journey and the cave’s unpleasant vapors made his head ache. Instead he sent his adviser with the three of us who had been chosen by lots, and said to him, “Take my gift to the hag and demand that she for once say yes or no without babbling nonsense.”
The sibyl’s cave was in a gorge high on a mountaintop and the goat path leading to it was worn smooth from centuries of suppliants’ steps. The temple itself was simple and faded by rain and wind but we were told that vast treasures were hidden in caves beneath, although from the priests’ appearance it was difficult to believe. They had simple woolen bands around their heads and a coarse brown robe on their shoulders.
The sulphuric vapors of the cave were stifling. Our eyes smarted and we coughed so that we saw the interior of the cave and Hierofila on her pedestal through a veil of tears. The cave was unbearably hot because she kept a perpetual fire in the hearth. She had long ago lost her hair but vanity prompted her to wear a peaked cap. A wan girl with unkempt hair served her, and in the girl’s eyes I recognized the wild eyes of the Delphic pythia and guessed that Hierofila was training her to be her successor. Hierofila’s own eyes were like gray stone. She must have been completely blind.