Tyrant (47 page)

Mago’s naval armada appeared the next day at dawn and the entire city hurried up to the walls to behold it. It was truly an extraordinary sight: hundreds and hundreds of vessels paraded past, making the sea boil with their oars, their sails snapping in the wind, their standards waving at the bows. Light signals flashed between the ships like a mysterious language which kept that huge host united in perfect order, like an array of soldiers. The world’s greatest navy had put its power on show to throw the besieged city into dismay, to give them the sensation that any effort at defence would be futile.

They passed off the shore of Ortygia, then turned west, directed towards the Great Harbour.

Dionysius, Hipparinus and Iolaus were together on the tallest tower, dressed in their armour. Philistus arrived as well. ‘They’re going to drop anchor between Plemmyrium and Dascon,’ he said. ‘That means that the ground troops will settle in that area.’

‘Good,’ snarled Dionysius. ‘In the tomb of all the armies that have ever besieged Syracuse.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ observed Iolaus. ‘They have unchallenged dominion over the seas; they can provision their ground forces when and where they want. They have a three-to-one superiority over us on land, and the fleet outnumbers us one hundred to one.’

‘We have our walls,’ retorted Dionysius. ‘They have never let us down.’

‘That’s true,’ commented Iolaus. ‘But our most powerful weapon is another: Arethusa.’

‘Arethusa?’

‘Of course. Why do you suppose the oracle ordered our ancestors to found the city around the Arethusa spring? Because it is she who guarantees our well-being.’

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a messenger. ‘
Hegemon
, Himilco’s army is circling to the north of Epipolae and is headed towards the Anapus.’

‘See? What was I saying?’ said Dionysius. ‘They’re going to the same place as last time.’

Philistus intervened. ‘Tell me something: why do you think they’re doing that? Because they’re stupid?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ admitted Dionysius. ‘Himilco is a fox. They simply don’t have a choice. There are no plains in the vicinity large enough to accommodate so many troops. They know full well that the Athenian commanders witnessed the ruin of their army from there ten years ago. They must be planning to storm Syracuse in the winter. That’s why they’re not afraid to pitch camp in that cursed place.’

No one answered because none of them had ever considered that an army might keep up a siege during the whole winter, during the most inclement months of the year.

Iolaus neared Dionysius. ‘How is Leptines?’

‘His fever will not break. I don’t know if he’s going to make it,’ he replied, with deep discouragement in his voice.

‘Can I see him?’

‘Of course. His friends can always see him.’

Iolaus nodded and went down into the courtyard, headed towards the southern wing, where Leptines was housed. He dismissed the surgeon and took over the patient’s care personally. Leptines began to improve day by day, slowly at first and then much more visibly, until his fever disappeared.

‘How did you manage it?’ Philistus asked him some time later.

Iolaus replied with a smile: ‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Are you familiar with the natives’ method of healing; the medicine that saved Dionysius at the spring of Anapus?’

‘No.’

‘Then you must know Pythagorean medicine. You studied at Croton, didn’t you? I’ve always wondered how, up to a century ago, the Crotonian athletes always won all the Olympic games.’

‘So what have you come up with?’

‘There must have been a secret. Some mysterious, initiatory medicine that cures bodies with the energy of the mind and the resources of nature.’

Iolaus said nothing.

‘A secret that I thought had been lost; but evidently there are still some who possess it.’

‘Perhaps. It depends on the teacher, and on a fortunate encounter between teacher and pupil. In any case, it wasn’t easy with Leptines. He was turned more towards death than towards life.’

‘I had the same impression. But why?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? Being defeated in such an important battle, before the eyes of the entire army and of his brother in particular. His men found themselves without a leader and were massacred . . . And yet there was something else, something that escaped me . . . something like . . .’

‘Like a love without hope?’

Iolaus stared at him with an enigmatic look and nodded. ‘Yes . . . maybe something like that . . . Sometimes the strongest and most courageous men hide the soul of a child, with unsuspected sensitivities. But don’t say anything else, Philistus, not a word. Not a word.’

And they parted.

Himilco’s intentions turned out to be as Dionysius had predicted.

The inhabitants of Syracuse witnessed the progress of his plans from atop the walls. The first thing he did was to occupy a rural sanctuary, dedicated to Demeter and Persephone – the goddesses most venerated in Sicily, even by the natives – stripping it of all its adornments and precious objects. He carried off the two gold and ivory statues and dismembered them to sell off their parts. It was a sacrilege that horrified the people, who were genuinely devoted to those divinities. Dionysius was outraged as well; his experience in the grotto of Henna was still vivid in his mind.

Then Himilco began to build a fort at the tip of the Dascon promontory, to control access to the stretch of shore where he had beached some of his ships and anchored the rest.

Meanwhile the Iberians and Mauritanians demolished the great monumental tombs which stood along the road to Camarina, and used the materials to build a reinforced camp meant to defend a second naval base at Plemmyrium, the southern promontory of the bay.

Their attempt to blockade the northern harbour failed, however, because the catapults deployed by Dionysius at the end of the wharf prevented any ship from coming closer than one hundred feet without the risk of being sunk. The Laccius harbour thus remained open to allow Syracuse to maintain her contacts with the outside world.

The enemy’s awesome preparations spread a sense of great apprehension and impotence among the inhabitants of Syracuse. It seemed that catastrophe was drawing nearer with each passing day. Dionysius realized that something must be done to shake them from their deadly resignation; he had to restore their morale and his own prestige as well. He called on Philistus. ‘You must leave,’ he said. ‘You’ll go to Corinth, to our metropolis. It’s not that I need much, but the people must realize that we are not alone, that we are still capable of obtaining aid, alliance, help. When Syracuse was besieged by the Athenians, the arrival of a small Spartan contingent turned out to be enough to raise the people’s morale and convince them that victory was possible. We need ships. Those we have are insufficient for organizing effective operations. You’ll leave tomorrow. Leptines will keep a passage open for you and you’ll be escorted out to the open sea by a couple of quinqueremes.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ replied Philistus, and he went down to the harbour to make agreements with Leptines and to give instructions for loading his baggage, which always included a rather voluminous crate of books.

Leptines received him at the admiralty’s residence, near the dockyard.

‘You’re looking well,’ said Philistus.

‘You’re looking well yourself,’ replied Leptines.

‘Have you heard that I’m going to Greece?’

‘I know. He deigned to notify me.’

‘Don’t talk that way. Dionysius is fond of you and esteems you.’

Leptines changed the subject. ‘When do you think you’ll be ready?’

‘Tomorrow night.’

‘Good. We’ll avoid being seen.’

Philistus managed to escape Carthaginian surveillance as Leptines manoeuvred to create a distraction. He reached Greece safe and sound, stopping first in Sparta and then in Corinth. Sparta gave him a sole officer in the role of military consultant, while Corinth saw fit to send a squadron of thirty ships complete with foot soldiers and crew; they reached Syracuse early that spring.

Leptines went out to meet them on the open sea in a small boat, and had them enter the harbour one moonless night. Sheltered docks had been prepared – practically invisible from both the sea and the city – to hide the small Corinthian fleet and hopefully allow them to catch the enemy unawares.

Once anchorage was accomplished, he held the first general staff meeting at his residence in the admiralty. After welcoming the Spartan officer and the Corinthians, he began to lay out his plan: ‘I learned this morning that a convoy of nine Carthaginian triremes is due to arrive tomorrow evening with supplies and money to pay the mercenaries. With your help, I intend to intercept them.’

Those present stared at each other in alarm and perplexity. Had Leptines thought up this idea himself or was Dionysius’s approval behind it? No one dared to ask.

The Spartan officer, whose name was Euridemus, replied: ‘It seems like a good idea, but it will take considerable skill to carry it off.’

‘That’s right. That’s why I need pilots and crew capable of navigating at night,’ said Leptines.

‘All of our pilots can navigate at night,’ replied the Corinthian officers. ‘We were navigating at night when you didn’t even know how to navigate by day.’

Leptines did not allow the comment to annoy him; the Greeks from the metropolis were always quite arrogant, and it wasn’t worth it to challenge their ideas of superiority. He said only: ‘Very good. That’s what we need. We’ll use twenty ships: ten of ours and ten of yours. I want the men at their oars and the crews at the rigging when the bugle sounds the second guard shift. The task of the mission will be communicated by the commanders once the ships are in the open sea. I will sail at the head. The rest of you will follow the
Boubaris
.’

The following day, the squadron left the harbour at midnight with their lights out and slipped silently into the open sea.

L
EPTINES HAD DONE
everything in his power to make sure the night assault would be successful. Several boats had been posted at intervals one stadium apart, with navy officers on board disguised as fishermen apparently intent on fishing with lanterns. As soon as the outermost boat spied the looming bulk of the Carthaginian ships, it sent a signal, and the Syracusan fleet fanned out with their bows to the sea and the wind at their sterns. The flagship flashed another light signal and the attack was on.

The Carthaginians were so sure that the ships were friendly vessels come to escort them into the harbour that when they realized the truth they had no time to react. Two Syracusan ships drew up on either side of each of their triremes and hundreds of attackers flooded on board. Many of the Carthaginian soldiers were still sleeping when they found their enemies’ swords at their throats.

The combatants who attempted resistance were killed, the others were simply disarmed; the ships were towed into the harbour and the rich bounty was unloaded and put in safe keeping.

Dionysius, who was waiting on the wharf, went forward to meet his brother and embraced him. ‘Well done, by Zeus! We needed a victory, even a small one: tomorrow you’ll be celebrated as a hero!’