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“I’ll pick them up for you," Almices offered. “Father said that we should repair the nets and that you’ll come looking for us, so I’ll take Janira to get them and repair them in the cave.” His mother nodded as she grabbed a water bottle and some dry shirts.
The three of them left the house at the same time. The mother headed to the beach while Almices took a little detour with his sister, so that she would not see the castaways. Their mother recommended this so that Janira would not get frightened at the sight of potentially injured men in terrible condition.
The two siblings walked alongside the tamarinds that lined the beach holding hands. Janira wanted to go with her mother to see what all the fuss was about. She fought hard to break free from her brother's hand, he almost had to drag her to the boat. He won after bribing her with a game as soon as they found their sisters. Upon arriving at the jetty, he looked at the beach and found that the castaways were already conscious and seated, while their parents dried them. He also saw in the distance the unmistakable silhouette of his neighbour Andreas disappearing alongside the tamarinds. He was a strange man, he thought. He did not associate himself with anyone in the village. He had only seen him speak with his father once, beside that it was menial greetings and small talk about the weather.
The cave was located just across from the cove in the west. Access to the cave was easy despite the fact that the entrance to the cave was hidden from view by a curious bend in the rocks. In fact, many of the inhabitants of the village did not even remember its existence. It consisted of a small cavity in the rocky wall, that continued to go into the sea. There was only one chamber, wide enough for a dozen people to lie down, however the entrance was huge and did not protect the interior from adverse weather conditions, so it had never been inhabited as a house and had become the Theopoulos children’s favourite place.
Janira and Almices entered the cave with one of the nets. Their sisters Telma and Nerisa were there, sitting in a corner sorting the shells they collected early on as they walked along the beach. Telma's chestnut curls fell in front of her bright honey-coloured eyes. Her father knew she was going to be a good wife. She was fourteen years old and almost ready to leave his house and marry a fisherman from the village. Her slim body, her correct manners, her basic knowledge of Greek writing was all just as good as Almices’. That was a topic that his father considered of vital importance. He had never had the opportunity to learn. He made Almices teach his sister everything he had learned from the village elder, even though their mother thought writing utterly useless. All this made her a good candidate for the best young men in the village. Hermes had even spoken to a few families behind the backs of his wife and eldest daughter.
Nerisa was nine years old, one year younger than Almices, she was mischievous and energetic. Their mother believed that Zeus got her wrong, that she should have been a man. All the finesse and delicacy of her older sister were missing from her. She may have a girl’s body with swirling hair, but her arms and legs were full of scratches from jumping, playing, and chasing cats or butterflies. Her restless honey-coloured eyes, similar to those of her older sister, reflected the vividness of her movements.
“Hello, Nerisa. Hi Telma. Don't you get bored playing the same thing all the time?” Almices asked them, looking at the shells.
“We are separating the razor shells, clams and cowries that we collected from the beach this morning,” Nerisa replied, smiling.
“Look Janira, we have found two starfish and also a giant snail,” Telma interrupted. She stood up and grabbed her little sister's hand to show her their findings. “Look, this broken shell looks like the birth mark we have on our legs.” Janira crouched to check the similarity of the shell to the birth mark that characterized the four siblings. She smiled at the resemblance and, without giving it more importance, sat down to play with the shells.
“Father has said that we have to mend this net before we eat,” Almices emphasized with authority as he took it out of the bale that he carried on his back.
“Let them play. We can mend it without them.” Telma stood up, inspecting the net with expert eyes. “Have you brought everything you need?” Almices nodded.
They stayed in the cave until noon. The younger two played with the shells, grouping them in different orders; first by shapes, then by colours, splitting them up and changing them. Telma and Almices first cleaned the already dry net, then set about mending it like confident professionals. By the time they finished Almices had already told Telma about the castaways and, as it was past noon, offered to see if they could already go to eat. The young man crossed the rocks next to the cave and bumped into his father.
“Hello, son, I came to find you to eat. Go with your mother and I’ll get your sisters.” Almices nodded and left toward the house as his father entered the cave to get the girls.
The sun timidly reached its peak and began the afternoon when everyone arrived at the house. Almices stayed inside with his mother. Outside, next to a corner of the house, the two castaways remained huddled and covered with a blanket, leaning on the wall, and warming up in the sun. Their gazes were empty and lost in the blue of the horizon. The girls looked at them amidst whispers of ill-disguised curiosity. Their father brought them in, spoke for a moment with the castaways and then met his family inside. The table, made of old boards, was flanked by two elongated benches. On one were the three little ones, Almices, Nerisa and Janira. The other remained empty.
“Niobe, we’re all here. What’s for dinner?”
His wife approached the table with a dish.
“Hermes let the food cool down,” was his wife's short, sharp response while sitting. “Telma, you sit down too.”
The eldest finished putting the olive wood buckets on the table, filled them with the water jug and took a seat between her parents, like a wall between two borders.
Hermes, fearful of the natural and supernatural forces of the world, raised his hands thanking the Gods for the food they were going to eat, while murmuring a simple prayer. The children, quiet, listened attentively to their father while Niobe’s gaze was fixed outside the window. Hermes finished his prayer and made a gesture to start eating. Only one dish full of food reigned on the table. Inside it, boiled vegetables were accompanied by various different tasty pieces of fish. Hermes had explicitly set them aside from the sale for his son's birthday. Janira stretched her hand decisively and took a piece of bass. Almices, Telma and Nerisa followed suit, while Niobe threw icy, penetrating looks at her husband.
“You could have told me before you helped them. You never tell me anything. You don't know who they are or where they come from,” she whispered accusingly as she looked sternly at the wall upon which the castaways rested, hidden from their sight, absorbed in their own thoughts.
“Helping people in need is not something that needs to be discussed; it is our duty," Hermes answered with a calm voice. “The sea doesn’t understand tribes or races or social classes, it treats us all equally. You seem to forget that your father, like mine, died at the sea.” His wife lowered her eyes, remembering her father. Her husband's comment hit a nerve. “Poseidon can be very convincing when he wants; and if our guests survived, who are we to question divine justice.”
“They'll bring us problems. They're foreigners, you know it's not a good idea to bring them here.” quipped Niobe, denying her husband's reasoning with her head. Their children listened without interrupting as they ate.
“They are Carthaginians. They have thanked me and asked me to let them leave as soon as possible; but I have refused, they have to recover their strength first and cannot continue the journey as they are.”
Niobe threw her hands in the air. Her patience was about to run out.
“They ask you to leave and you tell them no. Do you never think of me?”
“Our children must learn what is right and what is not. These men need help and no Theopoulos will deny it. There will be no discussion about it,” Hermes said sharply.
“You're right, father," Nerisa said nodding.
“This is an adult conversation!” her mother glared at her. The little girl cowered her head.
“What happened to them?” Almices asked in an attempt to smooth the situation.
“It will be better for them to explain it to us themselves. For now, let’s eat in peace and when we’re finished, they’ll come in. They grabbed some food earlier and decided to let us eat as a family. They will tell us everything and we’ll let them sleep for a while to regain strength.”
There was tension in the air during the meal, a deep silence, a silence that no one broke. They finished up the meal with red apples and Telma stood up to prepare a pot of tea.
“Almices, go and ask them politely if they want to come in for some tea”.
The young man stood hesitantly.
“Father, I don't speak Carthaginian”, he apologized.
“Don't worry, they speak Greek and understand us perfectly”, his father clarified, smiling.
Almices re-entered and held the door open for the castaways. The two men entered slowly, leaning in a way of greeting, and still wrapped in blankets. Telma approached the table with two stools and served the steaming hot drink.
“Please sit, friends.” Hermes stood up and pointed to the stools.
“Thank you," the newcomers replied in Greek.
“These are my children. Today is Almices’ tenth birthday and he is already a good fisherman.” The young man blushed at the compliment. “Telma is the oldest of my daughters. We have to start looking for a husband soon to give us strong grandchildren. Nerisa and Janira are the little ones and their laughter fills our house with joy.” The girls laughed as Telma blushed.
“We are very grateful for your hospitality," the chubbier of the Carthaginians spoke different Greek, but that was well understood. “We’ve had a very difficult couple of days.”
He looked at his partner who nodded in agreement.
“What exactly happened to you?" asked Almices with indiscreet curiosity. “How did you get here?”
“You see boy, it’s a long story. It goes back several months. We don't want to bore you.”
“Go ahead. We would like to know your story, if it’s no inconvenience to you," Hermes encouraged them, grasping his hot brew in his hands.
“Okay... As I said, it all began several months ago, when Agathocles of Messina died. Do you know Messina?”
The children looked at them puzzled. Hermes looking at his wife nodded without being sure.
“It’s a city on the island of Sicily, an island like yours, but much larger. Well, upon the death of Agathocles, his elite guard called Mamertines or sons of Mars, rebelled against the power of Syracuse with the intention of turning Messina into an independent kingdom.”
The children and their parents listened attentively.
“Hieron, the new legitimate king of Sicily" continued the other castaway, "defeated them and besieged the city of Messina. Then the Mamertines asked Rome for help, and in the face of so much inequality Hieron asked in turn for help from our city, Carthage, to strengthen his kingdom so that the Romans would not snatch it from them in a setback of the conflict, since the city of Messina is located in a very important strategic place that controls the passage of all goods to the Italian peninsula.
“We had the situation under control” the larger castaway continued, “when the Roman troops, commanded by the Roman Consul Claudius, surprised us by landing behind our lines and defeating King Hieron’s troops to attack us later at our base at Cape Pelorus. The fact is that the Roman army was impressive, very well organized; even so, we almost defeated it, but the battle extended to the sea and several ships, including ours, were separated from the main group. The Romans realized and a half dozen Roman triremes chased us down. They certainly thought that Hieron himself or some of his relatives were aboard one of our ships. The first day they destroyed the other two ships. We managed to flee for days until we had your island in sight.” He took a sip of tea to rinse his throat. “Finally, last night they caught us. They approached us by surprise and carnage broke out on board. Three of us dove into the sea and managed to escape the massacre.”
“But there's only two of you," Almices interrupted with anxiety.
“Yes, you're right. Ascipo drowned shortly before dawn.”
The foreigner's expression was bleak.
“We’re sorry to hear that," Hermes wanted to apologize for his son’s indiscretion.
"Don't worry, these things happen. The destiny that the Gods hold us to is undeniable, as Melkart and Eshmun know well. We must now prepare to return to our country as soon as possible. We do not know what will have happened in Sicily.”
“This morning, my son and I saw a Roman ship hovering near here.”
“It is possible. The Romans are experts in finding and killing castaways. There may be others that have also managed to flee.”
The children were still transfixed on the story.
“Well, I guess you'll be tired, and you'd like to sleep a little bit," Hermes interrupted, who did not want the castaways to go into more vivid details in front of their children. He stood up and told his children the same thing. “We have other chores, so take advantage and rest. My wife has prepared the beds so that you can rest comfortably. Tomorrow we can plan your departure. Maybe a boat can take you to one of your colonies.”
“We are very grateful to you. Fortunately, we found lands where Rome has less influence. They still fear what were the lands of Alexander the Great.”
“Indeed, our island is ruled by Ptolemy of Egypt. You should be safe from the Romans here," their host comforted them.
The children left the house. The stories the castaways told had transported them to places they did not even know existed. They spoke of battles that they only heard about in the narratives of their Gods and the ancient Greek heroes, battles that on the other hand seemed distant to them also in time. After all, in Samos the only external danger threatening them was pirate invasion, although that only happened on the high seas.
Telma, who noticed how the story had affected her little sister, took Janira in her arms, carefully explaining that the Carthaginians had exaggerated their history a little, that the Romans and no one did those bad things and that she had no need to worry. Meanwhile, Nerisa and Almices commented on the story that the castaways had told them, imagining the situations the Carthaginian sailors experienced and the wonderful places where they came from.
Hermes left the house after a while and looked at Niobe with anger. She was still angry, looking at the horizon with a stern expression. She regretted that she was so cold to others. He briefly thought about reassuring her, but changed his mind and turned to his children.
“Telma, Almices, today has been an unusual day. Go to the cave to play and we’ll find you later for dinner. Our guests will have regained some strength by then. In the meantime, we will take the fish to Andreas so he can take it to the tavern to sell. At this hour we will get little for it, but it’s better than nothing.”
The children agreed and walked along the shore to the jetty and take the path that led them to the cave. They could hear the murmur of the sea perfectly from here. The soft sea breeze had been transformed into a happy air that curled the backs of the waves, small peaks of foam.
When they arrived next to the jetty, Almices approached the boat to check that it was well moored. Although the little cove was well protected by the sea, you could never be too sure. His sisters waited for him to finish and collected another net that was already completely dry, to mend in the cave. The air was hardly noticeable inside the cave. It blew from the side opposite the entrance and provided a pleasant temperature in their play space. Janira and Nerisa continued to play with their shells while Telma and Almices worked with the net.
The afternoon flew by for all four. When Telma and Almices finished the net, they took the young girls and set up to collect small crabs and limpets that lived between the rocks by the sea. The tiny puddles, formed on the eroded rocks when the tide went out, served as perfect makeshift containers for the crabs. They were somewhat warmer and more protected than at sea. Their haul was plentiful and entertaining. Nerisa found a small octopus in the shallows and had a good time trying to get it out of the rocks.
“It’s almost dusk, Almices. We should go home, don't you think?”
Telma was looking forward to rest; spending a whole day with her sisters could be exhausting. She also regretted not being able to take the fish to the tavern, so she could see the handsome son of the inn keeper. She hoped her father would arrange the wedding with him. She should suggest it more clearly the next time they talk.
“You're right, they should have come for us by now. Stay with the little ones while I take the nets home and ask them if we can go to dinner now.”
Almices took the nets and left the cave by the usual path. He began walking along the beach over the wet sand toward the jetty The wind crashed tiny grains of sand against his legs. Along the way he imagined sailing along the wide sea on board a large ship and anchoring in all the ports. The sun had just disappeared behind the mountains and its light was beginning fade. He looked at his house and noticed the light from the home behind the worn-out planks that closed the window. He passed in front of the jetty and thought of leaving the nets on the boat; but his father did not like to leave them there at night and since they broke during a storm a year ago, he decided to take them straight home.
He was already close when a harrowing cry from inside the house overtook him. He could have sworn that was his father. There was a moment of silence, which felt like an eternity and then the door opened suddenly. Almices instinctively threw himself to the floor alongside a small tamarind, for fear of being discovered. He began to sweat. Three burly men left the house dragging a body that he recognized as the thinnest Carthaginian. They spoke agitatedly in a strange language. Their brown-coloured clothes made them look darker.
He waited crouching behind the branches, hidden in the growing darkness for the strangers to turn away in the direction of the little pine forest behind the house. Without knowing what to do he decided to go in. There were no noises and the door had been left open. He threw the nets down a few steps away. He moved slowly and silently. There was no movement inside.
Fear gripped the young boy and his hair stood on end. Almices would not know if it was an irrational impulse or his innate curiosity that finally made him overcome his fears and move slowly into his house. He was astonished. He could not believe the scene that appeared before his eyes.
II
“Enough now!” Telma exclaimed, irritated as Janira poured sand on Nerisa's head. “When we get home, I am going to tell. Mother has told you not to throw sand at her.”
“Nerisa started it," laughed Janira and she gathered more wet sand to spread on her victims.
“They must be about to arrive. You know how mother gets when you ignore her.” Janira seemed to seriously reconsider for a moment in the face of the threat, then threw sand at his sisters. All three of them laughed.
Almices felt like his legs barely supported him. The fat Carthaginian was lying on his side in front of the door, with a large wound that gushed blood on the floor, forming an arch that reached the boy's feet. Almices barely looked at him; he was more focused on his parents. His mother was lying on the table with a knife in her neck. His father was close by, laying face up on the floor. He had a large chest wound and a deep red cut in his neck. Almices approached him. His body, though warm, remained lifeless and the young man recognized death in the open eyes of the man who gave him life. Suddenly his whole world turned upside down. He ran out of the house with a mouth full of bile. A cold sweat had taken over his body and he struggled to breath. What had happened? Why had their parents been killed? What should they do now? There were no answers to all the questions that filled his head, trying to escape like a swarm of bees. He ran with all his might toward Andreas's house to ask for help.
His neighbour lived in the house close by, about fifty or sixty steps away. It was located on one side of the Theopoulos’ house, and although the proximity between the two was visible from the beach, you could not see one from the other. A small, thick group of trees and shrubs sat between them, keeping them in relative isolation.
He arrived at his neighbour’s home when he suddenly remembered the three men who had left for the pine forest moments earlier, and instinctively became stealthy. He advanced to the edge of the trees, trying to control his disturbed breathing that became even more disturbed when he saw his neighbour speaking to one of them. He did not know what to do. He had to warn Andreas of what they had done to his parents, warn him about how dangerous they were; but fear prevented him. He was paralyzed, crouched between the lower branches of the trees. Andreas looked happy. The other man took a bag out of his tunic and gave it to the fisherman, tinkling slightly as he weighed it in his hand. It was full of coins, Almices thought and he clenched his teeth. What a fool he thought. He suddenly saw more clearly. Andreas had helped them! Surely, he wanted to keep his father's house for himself, and when he saw them on the beach in the morning, he must have somehow warned the Romans chasing the castaways. They must have been Romans allied with the Mamertines that the Carthaginians had told them about, he was sure. He felt angry and scared. He had to warn his sisters immediately. He began to retreat slowly and quietly, afraid of being discovered. As soon as he could, he got up and went home. Then he passed right by. The door was still open, but he did not want to look. He ran with all his strength towards the cave.
"About time, what took you so long?" Telma, who stayed by the cave’s entrance, had seen her brother approach in the twilight. She had already lost patience with her sisters and was eager to leave. “We've been waiting for you for ages!”
"I didn't know what to do," Almices’ voice choked and the tears that ran down his cheeks worried Telma.
"Why are you crying? What happened?” Telma insisted, losing her cool.
"They are dead," were the only words Almices could muster before breaking down. His sister took him in her arms and tried to calm him down.
"Sit down, Almices, and tell me calmly what happened,” she tried to reassure him. The two younger sisters, who had stopped playing after the arrival of their brother, approached them to find out what had happened.
"I saw some men leave when I was approaching home," Almices babbled. “I heard a cry first and didn't think it was important, but as I approached, I saw the men dragging one of the castaways away.” He wiped some snot away. “I waited a moment for them to go away, and when I went inside, I saw mother and father. They had killed them.” He hugged his sister and tried to control his sobs.
"What's all this nonsense, brother?” Telma refused to believe him. “Stop joking, I’ve already lost my patience with your sisters today,” she chided, stepping back to look in his eyes.
"You have to believe me, Telma," Almices replied. “It's true, mother has a knife in the back of her head. Father is not breathing and also has many injuries. The other castaway is also dead.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself and process his thoughts. “I didn't know what to do so I ran to look for Andreas. As I approached his house, he was leaving. He was talking to one of the men,” while Almices spoke Telma's eyes welled up and reflected his growing anguish. “Andreas and the other spoke as if they were good friends, then the man pulled out a small bag that looked like money and handed it to Andreas. I was very afraid, so I ran away without being seen.”
"Come on, let’s go home and stop with the nonsense. Almices, you know I don’t like it when you joke," Telma did not want to believe her brother's story. The little ones, who listened intently without understanding, began to cry.
The weather was getting worse. The wind began to blow insistently pushing the waves against the coast. The four huddled together as they left the cave to protect each other from the rising cold of the night. They began to walk slowly toward the house in silence. Janira did not understand what was going on; she saw her siblings talking and knew something strange was happening. She was quiet and withdrawn as if she were responsible for the whole situation. Nerisa cried. Telma tried to make her feel better, saying that Almices had had a nightmare and that what he had said in the cave was just a bad dream, although she did not sound convincing. Almices could not stop himself from crying.
After a while they arrived by the jetty. Almices stopped Telma by gently holding her arm.
"It will be better for the little ones to wait here, Telma. I don’t think they should go inside.”
“Okay now! Almices, it's all in your head; father and mother are fine, you don't have to worry," Telma replied nervously.
"Telma please, don’t let them in." Almices' pleading eyes eventually convinced his sister, who was already starting to believe him. The older sister turned to the little ones, not knowing what to say.
"Nerisa, I want you to stay here with Janira. I need you to stop crying and take care of her while Almices and I go and see what has happened. Can you take care of Janira? "The little girl nodded and wiped her nose. She took the little girl and sat beside her on the beach. The wind continued to blow and forced them to turn to stop sand from getting in their eyes.
"Janira," Telma turned to the youngest, “I want you to stay with Nerisa and find more shells while Almices and I go home to look for mother, okay?” The little girl smiled and nodded, leaned toward the sand, and started to look for shells in the growing darkness.
Telma and Almices began towards the house. She held his hand tightly and noticed he was shaking. They slowed as they approached, frightened that someone would suddenly appear from the shadows of the trees. They stopped a few steps from the entrance. There was no movement around them. Everything was quiet; too quiet, Telma thought. The door was still open, exactly how Almices had left it.
They stopped in the doorway, suddenly scared to look inside. They looked at each other and Telma realized then that her brother had told the truth. A cold sweat descended on her and she felt her heart racing. She clenched her fists harder and entered. The bitter smell of blood permeated her senses. Telma saw the body of the Carthaginian, just as Almices had said. His blood soaked the soil, and the odour was nauseating. Several steps away was her father. Telma crouched next to him with tears in her eyes, utterly speechless. She raised her head a little and tenderly kissed his forehead. The contact of her lips with the warm and lifeless body provoked a whirlwind of emotions that almost caused her to feel faint. Almices rested a hand on his sister's shoulder, more to comfort himself than her. A few moments passed, which seemed to them an immensity full of feelings and emotions. Telma left her father on the floor with all the love she could muster. She realized that her hands were soaked in blood. She rose, a little dizzy, to get closer to her mother. Almices helped her to get around her father's body and to the table. It became clear to her that her mother's death had come by surprise. It had come from behind, a gloomy confirmation of the mistrust that she had always shown for the rest of the human race; her rigid, heavy body, lying face down on the table, had a shabby knife stuck in the base of her skull. There were utensils on the floor next to her, pots and pans too, as if the killers had suddenly appeared while she was preparing dinner. The benches of the table were broken on the ground, suggested there was a struggle. Telma figured her father and the Carthaginians had defended themselves with all their strength. Hermes had numerous cuts in the arms and torso. That was certainly not a sign of a fair fight.
