beamiest. From the perspective of someone used to strolling through a polis or across his fields, that didn't give a man much room. A sailor, though, had a much more cramped view of what was roomy and what wasn't. As if to prove as much, Sostratos went back to the poop deck, which to him felt as far from the smelly foredeck as Athens was from Rhodes. Menedemos asked him, 'What have we got left to trade on the way home?' 'A little wine,' Sostratos answered. 'Some perfume. I'd like to get rid of that, if we see the chance - taking it back to Rhodes would be a shame, when it came from there. And we still have some silk.' He sighed. Menedemos took a hand off the steering oar to poke him in the ribs. 'I know what you're thinking of: that copper-haired Keltic girl you were screwing in Taras.' Sostratos' ears heated; he had indeed been thinking of Maibia, in and especially out of the Koan silk tunic she wore. 'Well, what if I was?' he asked roughly. 'It's all right with me.' As usual when the talk rolled around to women, Menedemos sounded disgustingly cheerful. 'I've got plenty to think about myself.' 'If you'd do some thinking beforehand . . .' Sostratos said. 'That takes away half the fun. More than half,' he cousin answered. 'I don't see it that way,' Sostratos said with a shrug. 'I know you don't.' Menedemos leaned forward and spoke in a low voice: 'Just exactly how much silver are we carrying? In the name of the gods, don't yell out the answer. The last thing we want to do is give the sailors ideas.' In something close to a whisper, Sostratos told him. Menedemos whistled softly. 'That's even more than I figured. It's almost enough for ballast.' 'On a ship this size?' Sostratos made the automatic mental calculation, then tossed his head. 'Don't be silly.' 'Mm, I suppose not.' By the look of concentration on his face, Menedemos was making the same calculation. 'But I'll tell you this: it's more silver than my father expected us to bring back. And I'll rub his nose in it, too.' 'Why bother?' Sostratos asked. 'Uncle Philodemos will be glad to see you home safe, and he'll be glad of the profit. Isn't that enough?' 'No, by Zeus.' A hot eagerness thrummed in Menedemos' voice, like a following wind in the rigging. 'Ever since I started toddling around and stopped making messes on the floor, he's always gone on and on about what a great trader he is and how I don't measure up. Let's see him talk like that now.' 'I didn't come out here thinking to outdo my father,' Sostratos said. 'You're toikharkhos. I'm captain,' Menedemos said, that hot eagerness turning to something cold and hard for a moment. But he went on, 'Uncle Lysistratos doesn't go around bragging and carping all the time; I will say that. And the two of you get along better than Father and I do. Anyone who saw us would say
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