Over the Wine Dark Sea

  Of course it will, Sostratos thought. Before long, the bird will make more noise, and worse, than even the most shrewish wife. He kept that to himself; the Messenian would find out soon enough if he bought. All Sostratos did say was, 'Well, there you are, then,' as if it were settled. By the way the Messenian strode out of the agora and off in the direction of the harbor, maybe it was.   Sostratos went right on extolling the goods aboard the Aphrodite till the sun sank toward the hills in back of Messene. Then he headed back toward the merchant galley. Trying to find his way through a strange polis in the dark was the last thing he wanted to do. He remembered the turns the fellow in the ragged chiton had given him, and didn't get lost in a maze Minos might have envied.   There was the harbor, the wine-dark sea beyond dotted with fishing boats, almost all of them making for port now. There was the akatos, big and lean enough to frighten a fisherman out of his wits. And there, waving as Sostratos came down the pier toward the ship, was Menedemos. Sostratos waved back and asked, 'How did it go?'   'Better than I expected,' his cousin answered. 'Sold a peafowl chick and some perfume and some Koan silk, all to a smooth fellow who wasn't too smooth to cough up more silver than he might have.'   'If he's the man I think he is, he bought the perfume for a hetaira and the chick for his wife.' Sostratos grinned. 'I wonder who gets the silk.'   'Not my worry -  he can sort that out himself,' Menedemos said. 'I also sold some papyrus and ink to a skinny little man who told me he aimed to write an epic poem on the war between Syracuse and Carthage.'   'Good luck to him,' Sostratos said. 'If the barbarians win and head north toward Messene here, he won't have much leisure for his hexameters. And if Agathokles somehow manages to beat back the Carthaginians, well, Syracuse isn't shy about throwing its weight around, either.'   'True.' Menedemos dipped his head. 'But I can't think of anything much Agathokles could do. Can you?'   'No,' Sostratos admitted. 'Still, when Xerxes invaded Hellas, I don't suppose he thought the Hellenes could do anything against him, either.'   'That's also true enough,' Menedemos replied. 'Just the same, I'm not sorry we'll be sailing north, and away from that war. Trying to fight off a four or a five with our little akatos is a losing bet.' He spat into his bosom to avert the omen. Since Sostratos agreed completely, he did the same.   Cape Pelorias, above Messene, marked the northeasternmost point of Sicily. With it falling astern and to port of the Aphrodite, Menedemos gave all his attention to the Tyrrhenian Sea ahead. Just because he'd escaped the war between Syracuse and Carthage didn't mean he or his ship was home free. He probably wouldn't fall foul of great war galleys here. But the Tyrrhenian Sea, not least because no great naval power lay anywhere near, swarmed with pirates.   'Keep your eye peeled,' he called to the lynx-eyed Aristeidas at the bow. 'Sing out if you spy any sail or mast.' The sailor waved to show he understood. Menedemos turned to Sostratos, who was doing lookout duty at the stern. 'The same goes for you.'   'I know,' his cousin said in injured tones.