Volume 6: The Meeting of Two Heroes, Chapter 31: Going to the Banquet

After Dionysius came to power, in order to resist Carthage, he deeply realized the strategic importance of the Epipolae Plateau adjacent to the city for its defense (during the Peloponnesian War, the Athenian army that had invaded Sicily had occupied this area, engaging the Syracusans in a prolonged battle over the city walls). So he mobilized over six thousand freemen and, spurred by promises of granting them citizenship, built in a very short time a wall about fifteen miles long, encircling the Epipolae Plateau—six times the area of the central district—into Syracuse.

Thus Syracuse became the largest city in all of Greece. It was bordered on the east by the sea, with cliffs and precipices; on the west and north by mountainous terrain, with roads too steep and dangerous to climb; only on the southwest did it adjoin the Great Harbor, yet there too marshes and rivers obstructed troop movements. When the Carthaginian general Himilco once led a great army to the walls of Syracuse, he was utterly helpless against this gigantic city and was ultimately defeated by an outbreak of plague.

Antistanos’s carriage drove toward the southeastern corner of Syracuse, heading for Ortygia. Though called an island, it was actually connected to the mainland. It was the original colony of the Syracusans and later became the site of their acropolis. In most Greek city-states, the acropolis was nearly at the center of the city, but Syracuse’s acropolis stood isolated offshore—a rather odd arrangement.

Dionysius happened to take a liking to Ortygia’s geographic position and built his palace on the island. Having twice narrowly escaped being overthrown by the rebellion of Syracusan citizens, he surrounded the entire island with a wall, garrisoned it, and allowed only his friends and supporters to live there. Philistos’s mansion, of course, also sat on the island.

The carriage sped along until it stopped at the isthmus connecting Ortygia to the mainland. Ahead of the carriage stood a tall city wall, completely blocking the road to the island. On one side of the wall, in front, was a small but sturdy fortress. One could imagine that if an enemy attacked from here, they would be caught in a crossfire from both the fortress and the soldiers on the wall.

Antistanos, deeply moved by this arrangement, returned to the carriage and said quietly to Henipolis, “When a city-state’s leader is so guarded against his own citizens, how can he ever earn their love!”

“The citizens of Syracuse nearly killed him, after all. It’s not easy being a tyrant!” Over the past two days, Henipolis had wandered around Syracuse and learned a few things, showing some understanding of Dionysius’s actions. “In comparison, Lord Davos in Thurii has it much easier and freer.”

“Lord Davos is not a tyrant—remember that well!” Antistanos noticed that Henipolis was tending to compare Davos’s position in Thurii with Dionysius’s, and immediately cautioned him seriously. “Lord Davos does not even have the slightest intention of becoming a tyrant. Otherwise, why would he have created that peculiar public office of ‘Tribune’ to restrict the power of rulers?”

Antistanos’s eyes were full of admiration. Henipolis nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, he hesitated and asked, “Teacher, do you think my father is a tyrant?”

…

After the carriage passed the city guards’ inspection, it went through three city gates in succession and entered Ortygia.

Philistos’s mansion was extremely luxurious, especially the reception hall: spacious and high-ceilinged, with a floor entirely paved in colored marble, polished smooth as a mirror. Gilded lamps with fine carvings were arranged in a row on both sides, glittering with gold. Each lamp stand held five arm-thick candles, making the hall bright as day. A dozen beautiful female slaves of various skin colors attended every dining table.

Philistos, the high minister of Dionysius who controlled the civil administration of Syracuse, was somewhat thin. His rather handsome features exuded a scholarly air. At this moment, his smile was as gentle as a spring breeze as he began introducing the other guests at the banquet to Antistanos.

“This is Leptines, the brother of the Plenipotentiary General Dionysius, and the commander of the Syracusan navy!”

“I’ve long heard of you!”

They exchanged greetings. Antistanos curiously looked over Leptines; this younger brother of the Syracusan tyrant had a simple, honest-looking face.

“This is a minister of the Plenipotentiary General and my dear friend, Herollis!” The middle-aged man Philistos indicated had sharp, piercing eyes. He stepped forward proactively and said, “Antistanos of Thurii, I’ve heard of your reputation for a long time. Welcome! A few years ago, I visited Amendolara and met your magistrate, Davos. Oh, he wasn’t yet the magistrate of Daonia back then, but he left a very deep impression on me!”

Antistanos quickly bowed in thanks.

Philistos then introduced the next man: “This is Masias, a general of Syracuse!”

The rough-looking former Campanian mercenary commander simply exchanged greetings with Antistanos.

Philistos led Antistanos to the last guest: “This is also my dear friend, the most famous poet-musician in all of Sicily—Philoxenus!”

The man named Philoxenus said, “Lord Philistos, you flatter me too much. I am merely an ordinary man who loves music and poetry. I hold no office in Syracuse; I cannot compare with them.” He pointed at the previous few. “If I hadn’t heard that you are from Thurii and also a scholar, I wouldn’t have come.”

Philoxenus’s blunt words made Philistos look a little embarrassed. But Henipolis, standing behind Antistanos, exclaimed in surprise, “You are Philoxenus?! That’s wonderful! The wandering minstrels of Thurii often sing your poems, like ‘The autumn wind rustles, my heart is sad; where is my former lover now…’—that’s beautifully written! …”

Philoxenus hadn’t expected to encounter an admirer from Thurii at this banquet. He was somewhat surprised. “And you are?”

“Henipolis, a student of Antistanos,” the young man quickly replied.

“He is also the only son of Avinogis, the magistrate of Laüs!” Masias spoke up.

Antistanos’s heart tightened. He looked at the others’ faces; none showed any surprise, clearly they already knew his student’s identity. It seemed the Syracusans had thoroughly investigated their embassy beforehand.

“Student? What do you study with him?” Philoxenus, not knowing Antistanos, asked in surprise.

“Studying the history of the Mediterranean, also training in writing articles and assisting my teacher in compiling books,” Henipolis answered.

Philoxenus looked at Antistanos in surprise and asked bluntly, “What book are you writing?”

Antistanos said humbly, “I want to write a book on the history of southern Italy. It’s still just a beginning; I’m gathering materials everywhere…”

“Alright, everyone, let’s sit down at the banquet and talk while eating.” Urged by Philistos, they all took their seats.

Soon, slaves brought up platter after platter of dishes.

“I know the cuisine of Thurii is very famous. Unfortunately, I don’t have a cook who can make Thurii’s dishes. I hope these will satisfy you,” Philistos said to Antistanos.

Antistanos spread his arms, pointing at the food laid out on his table, and said in feigned astonishment, “This is simply too lavish!”

Philistos laughed heartily and was about to speak.

Leptines across from him said loudly, “I’ve heard that most of Daonia’s famous dishes were invented by your magistrate Davos. Is that true?”

“You know, those dishes originally came from the restaurant of Davos’s wife, Cheiristoya. Almost all Daonian citizens believe they were invented by Davos—and I count myself among them,” Antistanos replied tactfully.

“I’ve heard that the rugby and football games popular in Magna Graecia were also invented by him, and even the doctors of your Daonia call him teacher. As a magistrate, the Daonia Alliance is also a powerful force; there must be many affairs to attend to. How can he have so much energy to squander on such trivial matters?” Masias’s words carried a tone of doubt.

“You have to admit that some people are favored by the gods and are naturally endowed with more talent and energy than others. Such examples, though rare, do exist—like Periander, the tyrant of Corinth in ancient times… Besides, our magistrate is also under the special favor of Hades!” Antistanos replied calmly.

“How can your magistrate compare with Periander, who created Corinth’s glory hundreds of years ago?” Philoxenus interjected.

Henipolis looked indignant. Antistanos quickly stopped him with a glance. From their earlier interactions, Antistanos sensed that this Syracusan poet was outspoken. So he said gravely, “But in the hearts of Daonian citizens, Magistrate Davos is far more important than Periander! He has repeatedly led the army to defeat powerful enemies, rebuilt the burned Thurii, conquered the mountain barbarians; built roads to facilitate travel and promote trade; established hospitals to reduce the people’s illness and injury; funded the creation of academies and schools to improve the people’s education, encouraging scholars to explore knowledge; invented ball games and cuisine to entertain the masses; and established fair laws to give citizens more rights… He single-handedly created the Daonia City-State League, which has kept Magna Graecia, once torn by constant war, in peace for these past few years without conflict. Therefore, some Daonian citizens even call him ‘Father’ at the assemblies. He is truly worthy of being the Father of the Daonia Alliance!”

After listening, Philoxenus exclaimed loudly, “If it is truly as you say, then I take back what I said earlier. Your magistrate has accomplished so much for Daonia in just a few years. He is indeed a remarkable magistrate, in some respects… even more outstanding than Dionysius!”