“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