Over the Wine Dark Sea

Menedemos echoed, in an altogether brighter tone: he remembered Alexion's moneymaking scheme, which had slipped Sostratos' mind. He went on, 'Peafowl from the steaming jungles of India. You can see them up close for only two khalkoi -  the sixth part of an obolos.' The man with the gray beard paid out the two little bronze coins without hesitation. He came aboard the Aphrodite and stared at the birds through the slats of the cages.   They gave him a good show. Two of them tried to peck him, and the peacock screeched loud enough to make him jam his fingers in his ears. 'Nasty things, aren't they?' he said to Sostratos, who'd stayed by the birds. By worrying about the way they looked after staying in their cages all the time, he'd apparently appointed himself chief peafowl-keeper along with all his other duties.   Those screeches drew more people to the pier. With his usual eye for the main chance, Menedemos went up the gangplank and talked rapidly, fluently, and perhaps even truthfully about peafowl. His patter was plenty to send more curious Knidians down to the Aphrodite to take a look for themselves. He collected the khalkoi on the pier; nobody set foot on the galley without having paid. Sostratos remained by the peafowl to make sure nobody tried to poke them with a stick or yank out one of the peacock's tail feathers or do anything else he shouldn't have. He told what he knew about the birds and listened to the locals' news, not all of which he'd heard before.   Men and boys and even a few women kept coming aboard till the sun sank in the Aegean. By then, most of the sailors -  everyone, in fact, except for six or eight guards Diokles chose -  had gone into Knidos to sample the harborside taverns and brothels. Sostratos reluctantly resigned himself to spending the night on the Aphrodite: only a fool would wander through a strange town at night by himself with nothing but a torch to light his way.   Some of the akatos' crew brought back bread and oil and olives and wine for the men who stayed behind. It wasn't much of a supper, but better than nothing. Alexion happily counted the pile of small change Menedemos gave him. 'Better than a drakhma here, sure enough,' he said. 'Thank you kindly, skipper.'   'Thank you,' Menedemos told him. 'You earned it. The birds will make us money the rest of the trip.'   'I heard a couple of interesting things,' Sostratos said, dipping a chunk of bread into some oil as he sat on the timbers of the poop deck. 'I think we can forget about the peace the four generals signed last summer.'   'I don't suppose anyone expected it to last long.' Menedemos spat an olive pit into the palm of his hand, then tossed it over the side. Sostratos heard the tiny splash as it went into the water. Colors faded out of the world as twilight deepened and more stars came out. Menedemos asked, 'What happened?'   'They say here that Ptolemaios has sent an army up into Kilikia to attack Antigonos there,' Sostratos answered. 'The excuse he's using is that Antigonos broke the treaty by putting garrisons in free and independent Hellenic cities.'   Menedemos snorted. Sostratos didn't blame him. Knidos, for instance, called itself a free and independent Hellenic city, but it did Antigonos' bidding, as did most Hellenic cities in Asia Minor -  including those of Kilikia in the southeast. Rhodes, now, Rhodes truly was free and independent . . . since expelling Alexander's garrison. That didn't mean any of the squabbling Macedonian generals wouldn't be delighted to bring the city to heel again.   After another snort, Menedemos asked, 'What else did you hear?'   'You know Polemaios, Antigonos' nephew?' Sostratos said.   'Not personally, no,' his cousin answered, which made him snort in turn. Menedemos went on,