Over the Wine Dark Sea

But I have heard a lot of Agathokles himself -  including the way he got rid of the Syracusans who weren't of his faction earlier this year. Anyone who could come up with that little scheme wouldn't think twice about going back on a promise to pay a merchant skipper.'   The Syracusan proxenos looked pained. 'I assure you, my dear fellow - '   But Menedemos tossed his head again. 'Don't assure me, O best one. Let me ask some of the other captains and see what I find out.'   Had Onasimos called his bluff and told him to go ahead, he might have believed the proxenos' protests. As things were, Onasimos sighed and said, 'Oh, very well. I'll pay you the going rate now, and you can collect the rest on delivery.'   'I'm sorry.' Menedemos tossed his head for a third time. 'The going rate isn't enough to make me want to risk the Carthaginian fleet. I know the Carthaginians are supposed to be splendid torturers, but I don't want to find out how they do what they do for myself.'   He waited to see what Onasimos would say to that. The proxenos glared at him. He smiled his sweetest smile in return. Onasimos sighed again. 'You're one of the canny ones, I see. All right, then -  one and a half times the going rate in advance, but not an obolos more. If I give you everything promised ahead of time, you might just sail off with the grain and never go near Syracuse.'   Menedemos thought about squeezing the proxenos some more. He glanced toward Sostratos. His cousin ignored him -  Sostratos wanted no part of the Syracusan venture. Menedemos sent him a covert dirty look. He wanted to know what Sostratos thought, for his cousin was often better at haggling with these fancy types then he was himself. But Sostratos seemed determined to sulk.   That left it up to Menedemos. Onasimos had a point. Some men, with silver in their hands, would sail away from Syracuse. Not me, of course, Menedemos thought. But Onasimos didn't, couldn't, know that. 'All right,' Menedemos said. 'One and a half times the going rate it is. Sostratos!'   His cousin jumped. 'What?'   'You'll keep count of how many sacks of grain Onasimos' men bring aboard the Aphrodite here,' Menedemos said. 'As soon as we get paid our first installment for hauling them, we're off with the rest of the fleet.'   'I'll have a man of my own doing the counting,' Onasimos said.   'Good.' Menedemos smiled that sweet smile at him. 'I'm sure his count and Sostratos' will match very closely, then.' The Syracusan proxenos' answering smile looked distinctly forced. He was going to try to cheat me, Menedemos thought. Why am I not surprised?   Muttering under his breath, Onasimos tramped back down the pier. About half an hour later, a line of men carrying leather sacks, each with a talent of grain, came out from the interior of Rhegion. 'Where do you want these?' asked the man heading up the line. He carried no sack himself; he was obviously the fellow who would do the counting for Onasimos.   'Sostratos!' Menedemos called, and Sostratos, still seeming just this side of mutinous, went up onto the pier and stood beside Onasimos' man. For that worthy's benefit, Menedemos continued, 'Now -  I'll want you to start at the stern, just forward of the poop deck, and work toward the bow, one row of sacks at a time, till she holds as much grain as she can.'