'We shall have to have a feast to welcome you back,' Lysistratos said. 'A couple of feasts, in fact: one for your sister and your mother, and the other a proper symposion where you and your cousin can speak at length of your adventures in Great Hellas. Did you truly beat a trireme in the Aphrodite?' 'We wrecked its starboard bank of oars, and that let us get away,' Sostratos replied. 'Menedemos was telling Uncle Philodemos about it just before you got down to the harbor. I'm sure, at the symposion, he'll make a much more exciting story of it than I ever could.' 'Exciting stories are all very well after the wine's gone round a few times,' his father said. 'I'd also like to have some notion of what really happened, though.' Lysistratos' smile was lopsided, the smile of a man who'd learned not to expect too much from the world. 'It might even make the stories more exciting.' 'I'll tell you everything, as best I remember it,' Sostratos promised. 'But you should also listen to Menedemos' version, and Diokles' as well. Then you can put them together for yourself and decide where the real truth lies.' He laughed at himself. 'Anyone would think I wanted to write a history one day. That's how Thoukydides says he went about figuring out just what happened in the Peloponnesian War.' 'Seems a sensible way to try to learn things,' Lysistratos said. Sostratos snapped his fingers. 'Diokles!' he exclaimed. 'I do want to put in a good word for him. We couldn't have had a better oar-master. Honest, sensible, brave when he needs to be - I'd love to sail with him as keleustes again next spring, but he'd make a good captain, too.' 'I've always thought well of him, ever since the days when he first started pulling an oar,' Lysistratos said. 'I'll tell you what I do. When we have our symposion here, I'll invite him. I'm sure he can tell some stories of his own, and that will also let him talk with some other men who might want to offer him command of a ship.' 'That would be very good, Father.' Sostratos enthusiastically dipped his head. 'It might be our loss, but Diokles deserves the chance.' 'I should say so,' Lysistratos agreed. 'Considering how much silver you brought home, anyone who helped you earn it deserves a hand up from us. A man should lift up his friends and put down his enemies as he can, eh?' 'So Hellenes have said since the days of Akhilleus and Agamemnon,' Sostratos answered. And so Hellas has seen endless factions and feuds, too, he thought, and then, I wonder if that would make sense to any of Alexander's marshals. Probably not, worse luck, or they wouldn't be at one another's throats. Lysistratos pointed. 'There's your sister, watering the garden. She'll be glad to see you.' Sostratos had heard water splashing from a hydria, too, but sat with his back to the courtyard. He'd guessed the slave girl, Threissa, was doing the work. 'I'm always glad to see her,' he said, getting to his feet. He walked out of the andron and called, 'Hail, Erinna.' His sister squeaked, put down the water jar, ran to him, and threw herself into his arms. 'Hail, Sostratos!' she said, and kissed him on the cheek. 'When that wharf rat came yelling with news the Aphrodite was back, I almost veiled myself up and ran down to the harbor myself to come get a look at you as soon as I could.' She grinned wickedly. 'Wouldn't that have been a scandal?'
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