Over the Wine Dark Sea

'We'd better,' Sostratos said. His cousin winced, then waved and went on to his own house. Nothing got Menedemos down for long. Sostratos wished he could say the same. He knocked on the door and waited for his father or a house slave to let him in.   Gyges, the majordomo, unbarred the doors and threw the two panels wide. 'Hail, young master,' the Lydian slave said. 'How is the Aphrodite shaping?' He knew almost as much about the business as Sostratos and his father.   'Well enough,' Sostratos answered. 'Is Father home? Menedemos and I bought some goods to take west when we sail, and I want to tell him about them.'   'Yes, he's here,' Gyges said. 'He'll be glad to see you; Xanthos just left.'   'He'd be glad to see anybody else, if Xanthos just left,' Sostratos said with a laugh. The other merchant was honest and reliable, but deadly dull.   Sostratos walked through the courtyard on the way to the andron -  the men's room -  where he expected to find his father. His sister Erinna was out there, watering some of the plants in the herb garden with a jar. 'Hail,' she said. 'What's the news out in the city? I think Xanthos had some, but I stayed in till he left.'   'Some business I want to tell Father first,' Sostratos said. 'Other than that, I didn't hear much. The Aphrodite will be ready to sail whenever we decide the weather's good enough.'   Erinna sighed. 'And then you and Menedemos will be gone till fall.' She was eighteen; she'd been married for three years, but had returned to her father's household after her husband died. The dark, curly hair she'd cut short in mourning had finally grown out to close to its proper length.   With a sly smile, Sostratos said, 'You know we're only leaving to annoy you.'   'I believe it,' Erinna said, and went back to watering the herbs. 'Well, go on and tell Father whatever you've got to tell him. I suppose I'll hear about it eventually.' She made a point of looking put-upon.   If Father reacts the way I'm afraid he will, you'll hear about it right away, when he starts bellowing, Sostratos thought. Taking a deep breath, he went into the andron.   Lysistratos was sitting in a chair, flicking pebbles back and forth on a counting board and muttering to himself. Sostratos' father looked up when the light changed as the younger man came in. Lysistratos was more than a palm shorter than his gangling son, but otherwise looked much like him. His hair had been darker brown than Sostratos' -  almost black, in fact -  but gray streaked it these days, for he'd seen more than fifty years.   He smiled. His teeth were still good, which helped give him the appearance of a younger man despite the gray. 'Hail, son,' he said, and waved Sostratos to another chair. 'I have news.'   'Erinna said you might,' Sostratos answered. 'So do I, as a matter of fact.'   'You go first.' They said it together, and both laughed.