brothel, would you care for that?' As he had to Menedemos, he replied, 'If I were in a boy brothel, I don't think I'd get much trade.' She laughed. 'How many would say that?' He shrugged once more. 'What could be more important than the truth?' That made Maibia laugh again. 'Here in a brothel, what could be less important than the truth? If we told the men what we thought of 'em, if we told Lamakhos what we thought of him, how long would we last?' No sooner had she spoken than she looked worried. If Sostratos took her words to the brothelkeeper, what would he do to her? He didn't intend to do that, but she couldn't know what he intended. He wondered what the girls who made symposia lively really thought of the men who used them. The question hadn't crossed his mind before; unless he badly missed his guess, it seldom crossed the mind of any Hellene. Probably better not to know, he thought. He didn't take advantage of such women very often - Maibia had been an exception. Would this keep him from doing it again if some other girl struck his fancy? The truth, he reminded himself. No, it probably won't. Telling that to the Keltic girl struck him as less than wise. He did say, 'Do we have a bargain, on the terms I put to you?' He might have been selling silk or papyrus. 'We do that,' Maibia said at once. She held out her hand. He clasped it. Her skin was much fairer than his, but her hand was as large as many a man's and her grip firm. Yes, this did feel like commerce. But it was commerce of a particular sort, for she went on, 'If I'm to hold up my end of the bargain, you need to hold up yours,' and went back to what she'd been doing. This time, Sostratos didn't interrupt her. He set a hand on the back of her head, not quite holding her to him but urging her on. He didn't need to pretend to seem sated when he left Lamakhos'. The brothelkeeper chuckled under his breath as Sostratos went by. He thought Sostratos was well and truly hooked. Sostratos chuckled, too. He knew he wasn't. When he got back to the rented house, he was surprised - and a little alarmed - to find Gylippos and his Roman majordomo there. 'Menedemos tells me you've made a pet of that redheaded wench,' the dried-fish merchant said. 'I think she's strange-looking, myself.' 'I like things that are out of the ordinary,' Sostratos said, and then, 'What brings you here, sir?' 'I've decided to buy a couple of more peafowl chicks,' Gylippos replied. 'I want to have a better chance of having at least one peacock.' The little birds ran peeping and cheeping across the courtyard, stopping every now and then to peck at a bug or a bit of grain or another chick. Sostratos wondered how Gylippos would like having four full-grown peafowl in his own courtyard, but that was the Tarentine's worry, not his. Menedemos had caught a couple of chicks. He limped back toward Gylippos, saying, 'The choice is yours, of course, O best one, but I think these two are the biggest, strongest ones we have right now.' As if to prove the point, one of them pecked him on the arm. He cursed.
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