Over the Wine Dark Sea

'Agathokles has landed in Africa!'   That was news to most of the sailors aboard the merchant galley; they exclaimed in surprise. But Menedemos only grinned and answered, 'Yes, and he burned all his ships once he did it, too.'   The sailors exclaimed again, even louder this time. Sostratos blinked. 'How did you know that?' he asked. 'I just heard it myself.'   'I was wasting my time in a tavern -  or that's what you would call it,' Menedemos said as his cousin and the rowers came aboard at the stern. 'A fellow came across from Ortygia practically on fire with the word, and earned himself some free wine to put the fire out.'   'Oh.' Sostratos gave the impression of an air-filled pig's bladder that had sprung a leak. Then he snapped his fingers, plainly remembering something, and brightened. 'Well, I've got some other news, too.'   'Tell me, O best one,' Menedemos heard. 'I haven't heard it all.'   'Only the best parts of it,' Sostratos said unhappily. 'But I managed to sell all the papyrus and ink we had left, and I got a good price for them, too.'   'Did you?' Menedemos clapped him on the back, glad to give credit where it was due. 'You were right about that, then.'   His cousin dipped his head. 'Thanks to the war with Carthage, Agathokles' chancery was almost out of papyrus altogether. They were scraping the ink off old sheets and writing on boards and potsherds, the way people did in the old days. One of the chief clerks kissed me when I told him how much we had.'   'He must have been excited,' Menedemos murmured. Sostratos dipped his head again. Then, a moment too late, he glared. As a youth, Menedemos had had more than his fair share of older men as admirers; he'd quite enjoyed playing the heartbreaker. Sostratos, on the other hand, had been tall and skinny and angular, all shanks and knees and elbows and pointy nose. So far as Menedemos knew, nobody'd bothered pursuing his cousin, either in Rhodes or, later, in Athens. Changing the subject looked like a good idea: 'Just how much did you get?'   Sostratos told him. Menedemos whistled and clapped him on the back again. Sostratos said, 'It's not so much when you set it against what we made for hauling the grain and for the last of the peacocks, but it's a lot more than we would have got in Athens. That's where everyone with papyrus and ink goes.'   'Bad for prices,' Menedemos agreed. 'And that's one less stop we'll have to make on the way back to Rhodes.'   'What's wrong with stopping in Athens?' Sostratos asked. 'I like Athens fine.'   'I like Athens fine, too, when we've got time for it,' Menedemos said. 'But we're a long way from home, and it's starting to get late in the sailing season: we're less than a month from the fall equinox. Things get murky when the days go short; you can't tell your landmarks the way you should. And there's always the chance of a storm, too. Why take the extra risk?'   'All right.' Sostratos threw his hands in the air. 'If it's enough to make you careful, that's plenty to convince me.' Before Menedemos could reply, Sostratos