"That's at the western tip of Sicily, isn't it?"
"Yes, on an island in a bay."
"Do they expect an attack by the Hellenes, then?" asked Zopyros.
"Not right now. But the warehouses of any Phoenician city bulge with goods gathered by their traders from all over the world, from the plains of Scythia to the Pillars of Herakles. Any warlord would love to loot such a place, and the Phoenicians know it. The Motyans are rich. We lived well. I could have learnt to put up with Elazar's gruff ways if we had not had a son."
"A son? Most families look upon a son as a blessing."
She lowered her voice, as if oppressed by the memory. "Elazar is a pious man in his way, and little by little I learnt what he had in mind. In times of peril to their city, leading Punic families give up their first-born to be burnt alive in the statue of Baal Hammon. If danger ever came to Motya, that's what Elazar meant to do with my beautiful baby."
"By Zeus the Savior! I saw that custom practiced once in Tyre. It's even cruder than the Italian custom of arming slaves or prisoners and making them fight to the death. What did you do?"
"At first I was so terrified that I couldn't think. Then I planned to run away with the child. Needing a confederate, I bribed the nurse. That was a mistake. Then I bribed a ship's captain to take us on his next run to Messana. I planned to visit another Hellenic woman when Elazar was out and, from her home, slip down to the pier. The nurse was to meet mc there with the baby.
"I went to my friend's house and put on a white wig. Carrying a small bundle of my things, I went to the piers and boarded the ship. But the nurse never appeared. Instead, Elazar came storming down, looking for me. Luckily, nobody thought he was describing the white-haired old lady who had just gone aboard. I hid among the cargo, and Captain Philon—Artemis bless him—never gave me away. My friend later wrote that the nurse, having taken my bribe, went to Elazar and disclosed the plot to get an extra reward from him."
"Death take her! What happened next?"
"I suppose I could have gone back to Elazar and taken my punishment. But that wouldn't have saved little Ahiram; for Elazar would have seen to it that I never got another chance to touch the child. In the end I sailed away without the boy. Perhaps I was a coward ..."
"I think you're a heroine," said Zopyros. "And then?"
"Father was dreadfully upset, of course; but he got the Archon's Court to grant me a divorce. When he wrote Elazar, demanding his grandson, he got no answer. He sent my brother Glaukos to Motya to offer a ransom—besides giving up his claim to my dowry—but Elazar practically threw Glaukos out of the house. That's why I came here to ask the Sibyl's advice. Since Father isn't well enough to travel, Uncle Nestor brought me. Now Uncle Nestor's dead, and it's all my f-fault ..." She began to cry again.
"Now, now," said Zopyros, feeling inadequate. "The Fates snip out threads as they please, and your uncle died a hero's death."
She wiped her eye with her veil. " 'Full is the earth of ills, and full no less are the waters.' "
"Are you still going to interview the Sibyl?" he asked.
"I've already done so."
"How is that possible?"
"By the time Trebatius came out from his hearing, nearly everybody else had left the acropolis. So I asked the priest if I might have my turn, thinking the pirates would be too fearful of the gods to invade the sacred grotto."
"Clever girl! What advice did you get?"
"She said:
"That describes Motya, all right; but it sounds as if you needed the help of some Easterner—an Ionian, or perhaps even a Tyrian."
"Don't ask me to get mixed up with Phoenicians again! To me they're hateful as the gates of Hell."
"I have good friends in Tyre; but I can understand your feeling."
They moved quietly for a time. The sun sank lower towards the Tyrrhenian Sea, which blazed with golden coruscations like the flames in the belly of Baal Hammon. At length she said:
"I've done all the talking. Tell me about yourself."
"There's little to tell. I'm just a hard-working engineer, in business with my father in Taras."
"An engineer? You mean a machine maker?"
"Machine making is one of our tasks. We do much else, besides. We design fortifications, build aqueducts, and survey roads. When a man like Master Elazar finds a task too complicated for him, he sends for us to calculate him out of trouble."
"I don't believe we have any engineers in Messana."
"There aren't many in the West; it's a new trade in Great Hellas. It calls for a lot of travel, and it's a chancy business. Somebody— perhaps a private contractor; perhaps the president of a city—puzzles over a technical problem until he's nearly mad. Then he calls us in. We solve the problem, and the man who has hired us says: 'Why, that was easy! I could have done as much! And do you scoundrels really think I'll pay you a hundred drachmai for that?'
"The last time one of them talked like this, my father said: 'All right, I'll say no more about the fee, if you will make a little bet with me.'
" 'What's that?' said the builder, who was a notorious gambler.
"I'll wager I can tell a hard-boiled egg from a raw egg without opening it. Will you bet a hundred drachmai that I can't?'
"The builder took him on. We got a dozen eggs, boiled half of them, cooled them, and mixed them with the six raw eggs. My father easily picked out the hard-boiled ones."
"How?"
"You stand the egg on end and spin it. If it spins like a top, it's hard-boiled. If it flops over, it's not. One of my Tyrian friends taught me that trick."
"How funny! What were you doing in Tyre?"
"My father sent me there for my technical education. He apprenticed me to Abdadon, a colleague who specializes in shipyards and docks. The Phoenicians are far ahead of us Hellenes in engineering."
"Really? I thought Hellenes led the world in everything."
"So they like to think; but some foreigners know a thing or two. The Phoenicians encourage invention by deifying their great inventors."
"What did you say your father's name was?"
"Megabyzos son of Zopyros."
"Those sound like Persian names."
"They are." Defensively, Zopyros said: "I'm only one quarter Persian. My grandfather Zopyros was a Persian nobleman who fell out with the Great King and fled to Athens, where he married a Hellene. When my* father grew up, he moved to Taras, because he heard it would be easier to become a citizen there. You know how exclusive thee Athenians are. If you're not of pure Athenian descent, it's easier lo steal a gryphon's egg than to gain Athenian franchise."
"Did the Tarentines grant him citizenship?"
"Oh, yes; we are now solid citizens despite our mixed blood. Without family or city, a man is nobody—Mistress Korinna, why are you staring at me like that?"
"Why ... you must be the man from the lands of morn, of whom the Sibyl spoke! You're part Persian, and you have lived in Tyre."
"Dear Herakles! Don't expect me to rescue your boy from his father!"
"You have been chosen by the gods for this task!"
"My dear Korinna, I have my duties to my city and my family, and Pythagoras placed duty and responsibility before all. Besides, the Archon would never let me go galloping off on such a chase."
"You won't help me, then?" Her lip trembled.
"I should be delighted to, but ... You have friends and kinsmen in Messana far better placed than I to cope with Elazar. I've never even been to Sicily."
"But they don't fit the Sibyl's pronouncement; you do!"