Leptines snapped his fingers in annoyance at himself. 'You're right, I haven't. It's called Pompaia.'   'I never heard of it,' Sostratos said. 'What about you, Menedemos? You know more about Italy than I do.'   'I think the name sounds familiar,' Menedemos said. 'I've never been there, though, and I don't know anyone who has.'   Leptines tapped his own chest with a forefinger. 'You do now. I'm telling you, the place is worth a visit. And the Pompaians are mad for anything from Hellas, too. They've got a Doric-style temple there that's kind of old-fashioned nowadays, but you wouldn't be surprised to see it in a real polis even so.'   Sostratos eyed Menedemos. 'What do you think?' Such decisions, in the end, were up to his cousin.   'I don't know.' Menedemos rubbed his chin. Bristles rasped under his fingers; with the Aphrodite at sea the past two days, he'd had no chance to shave. 'I hadn't planned to put in there; I was just thinking of heading on up to Neapolis.'   'Don't listen to me, then -  it'll be your loss,' Leptines said. 'I'm telling you, with the farms they've got up there, the rich men make a nice pile of silver. They'd be able to afford whatever you've got, and a lot of them speak Greek.'   'That's good,' Sostratos said. 'We certainly don't speak Oscan, or whatever language they use there.'   'Oscan, sure enough,' Leptines said. 'No, you wouldn't need to, not coming out from Rhodes the way you do. I've learned some over the years. It comes in handy now and again, if you do a deal of trading in Italian waters.'   'Yes, I can see that it would,' Sostratos agreed, and looked toward Menedemos again.   His cousin rubbed his chin once more. Then he reached out to Leptines. 'Let me have your cup.' He poured it full, and refilled his and Sostratos' as well. Then he raised his in salute. 'To Pompaia!'   'To Pompaia!' Sostratos and Leptines echoed. Sostratos drank. Menedemos had watered the wine only a very little.   Leptines noticed that, too: the trader from Rhegion appreciatively smacked his lips. 'Glad to help my fellow Hellenes,' he said, 'especially when I don't have to hurt myself to do it. If you boys were carrying wheat and wood, too, you couldn't pull the name out of me if you gave me to a Carthaginian torturer.'   'Back in Rhodes, we'd speak of a Persian torturer,' Sostratos said.   'All boils down to the same thing.' Leptines tipped his head and his cup back. 'Obliged to you boys for your hospitality. If you hang around in Pompaia for a bit, you'll eventually see me there. How much do you pay your rowers, anyway?'
Вы читаете Over the Wine Dark Sea
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