answer. He staggered away, still dripping blood. 'May we never see him again,' Menedemos said. 'I thought we were rid of him when we put him on the beach,' Sostratos said, 'and then especially when we didn't see him in Taras.' 'So did I,' his cousin said. 'We'll be gone tomorrow. We can keep enough men here till then to make sure he doesn't try anything. If we hadn't spent two nights in a row at sea, and if this weren't the last chance before we sail back to Hellas to let the men get their share of wine and women, I'd leave port now.' 'You say that?' Sostratos demanded. 'You say that after risking everything on the trip to Syracuse?' With a shrug, Menedemos replied, 'We made a lot of money in Syracuse. I don't see much chance for profit here, do you?' 'Nobody could make much of a profit in Kallipolis, and that includes the Kallipolitans.' Sostratos spoke with great conviction. He also spoke quietly, lest any of those Kallipolitans hear him and think he slandered their city. He intended to, but he didn't want them to know it. A moment later, Menedemos donned a wide, artificial smile. 'Hail, best one,' he said to the local who'd been dickering for fine Khian when Alexidamos made his unexpected appearance. 'Good to see you again.' 'Have things, ah, settled down?' the Kallipolitan asked. Then he answered his own question: 'Yes, I see they have. Well and good. Where were we?' 'We were right here,' Menedemos replied. And we stayed here, while you ran like a rabbit with a pack of Hipparinos' Kastorian hounds baying at your heels, Sostratos thought. He exhaled noisily through his nose in lieu of sighing. Doing business with a man too often meant you couldn't tell him what you thought of him. Smoothly, Menedemos went on, 'Here, why don't you have another taste of a wine Dionysos himself must have specially blessed? The genuine Ariousian of Khios doesn't come to Kallipolis every day, or every year, either.' The cup they'd borrowed had got broken in the scuffle with Alexidamos. They had to pay for it and get another from the potter. When the local tasted the sweet, golden wine for a second time, his eyes got big. Sostratos smiled to himself; he'd seen that before. The Kallipolitan had to work to keep eagerness from his voice as he said, 'Now, you named some ridiculous price before the ruction started.' 'Sixty drakhmai the amphora,' Menedemos repeated calmly. 'Yes,' the local said. 'I mean, no. I thought that's what you said, and I won't pay it. I'll give you twenty, and not a drakhma more.' 'Good day, sir.' Menedemos politely inclined his head. 'It's been pleasant talking with you.' 'Are you mad?' the Kallipolitan said. 'You had to open the jar to give me a sample. It won't keep - wine never does, not after you broach the amphora. How much will you get for vinegar? You'd better take what I offer, and be thankful you're getting that much.' His smug smile said he'd
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