Antandros sat on what wasn't quite a throne. He was older than Sostratos had expected; he'd lost much of his hair, and gray streaked what remained. When a steward murmured to him who Sostratos and Menedemos were, he leaned toward the man with a hand cupped behind his ear. 'What was that?' he asked. The steward repeated himself, louder this time. 'Oh,' Antandros said. 'The chaps from the akatos.' He turned his gaze on the two Rhodians. 'Well, young men, between the Carthaginians and the eclipse, I'd bet you've had more excitement the past couple of days than you really wanted.' We certainly have! Sostratos thought. But before he could speak, Menedemos said, 'I always thought a quiet life was a boring life, sir.' Antandros held his hand behind his ear again. 'What was that?' As the steward had, Menedemos repeated himself. Antandros said, 'My little brother would agree with you. Me, I don't mind sleeping soft in my own bed with a full belly every now and again, and that's the truth.' I'm with you, Sostratos thought. But Antandros' homely desires went a long way toward explaining why Agathokles ruled Syracuse and his older brother served him. 'How many sacks of grain did you bring into the polis?' Antandros asked. Menedemos looked to Sostratos, trusting him to have the number at his fingertips. And he did: 'It was 791, sir,' he replied, loud enough to let the man in charge of Syracuse hear him the first time. Antandros' smile showed a missing front tooth. 'Paying you won't even hurt. A merchant galley doesn't hold much next to a round ship, does she?' 'She wasn't built to haul grain, sir,' Sostratos agreed, 'but we were glad to help your polis as best we could.' Menedemos was, anyhow. Amusement sparked in Antandros' eyes. Sostratos got the feeling Agathokles' brother knew he was lying. But all Antandros said was, 'You'll be glad to get paid, too, won't you?' 'Yes, sir.' Sostratos wouldn't deny the obvious. 'You will be,' Antandros said. 'No, you aren't made for hauling grain, sure enough. What other cargo have you got aboard?' 'Rhodian perfume, Koan silk, Ariousian from Khios, papyrus and ink - and peafowl chicks,' Sostratos answered. 'What was that last?' Hearing something unfamiliar, Antandros hadn't got it. 'Peafowl chicks,' Sostratos said again. 'We sold the grown peacock and peahens earlier, mostly in Taras.' 'Can't let the polluted Tarentines get ahead of Syracuse,' Antandros exclaimed. 'Now we have plenty of grain to feed birds, too - plenty of grain to feed everyone. We went from hungry to fat in one fell swoop when the fleet got in. What do you want for these chicks? And how many have you got?'
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