men on the quay, who made the akatos fast. 'Who are you?' one of the Koans asked. 'Where are you from?' another asked. 'What's your news?' a third said. Sostratos wasn't surprised that they already knew about the murders of Alexandros and Roxane, and of course they knew Ptolemaios had gone back to war with Antigonos. They hadn't heard that Antigonos' nephew had gone over to Kassandros, and one of them clapped his hands when Menedemos mentioned it. 'Anything that keeps the Cyclops busy somewhere else is good for us here,' the fellow said, and his friends chimed in with loud agreement. 'Remind me how I get to the shop of Xenophanes the silk merchant,' Sostratos said. 'It's simple, sir,' one of the harbor workers answered, and then paused expectantly. With a mental sigh, Sostratos tossed him an obolos. He popped it into his mouth, saying, 'Many thanks, best one. Go up three streets ' - he pointed - 'then turn right and go over two. You can't miss it: there's a bawdy house full of pretty boys across the street.' 'That's right.' Sostratos dipped his head and turned to Menedemos. 'Remember the fellows who were brawling in the street over that one boy when we were here last spring?' 'I certainly do,' his cousin said. 'That little chap with the gray hair was going for his knife when a couple of people sat on him.' 'Foolishness,' Sostratos said. 'A brothel boy's not worth quarreling over. He wouldn't have cared a fig for either one of them, except for what he could squeeze out of them. Hetairai are the same way, most of the time: more trouble than they're worth, and more expensive, too.' 'You sound like my father.' By the way Menedemos said that, he didn't mean it as a compliment. He raised an eyebrow. 'Besides, what do you know about hetairai?' Ears burning, Sostratos hurried up the gangplank to the quay. Menedemos stayed aboard the Aphrodite for a little while, setting up a watch schedule that would keep enough men on the ship at all times to deter robbers. The delay let Sostratos recover his composure. Unlike Menedemos - unlike most young men of his wealth - he wasn't in the habit of keeping a mistress. His cousin made it sound as if there were something wrong with him. But I've never met a hetaira who made me believe she cared about me more than she cared about my silver. He didn't bother saying it aloud. Letting it drop seemed better than enduring whatever snide comeback his cousin would surely find. Menedemos pranced up the gangplank, almost as if he were about to start dancing the kordax. He had one of the little pots of perfume in his left hand. 'Let's go,' he said cheerfully, and slapped Sostratos on the shoulder. He'd already forgotten he'd been teasing his cousin. Sostratos hadn't. Menedemos continued, 'With any luck at all, we'll be able to make a deal before sundown and get back to the ship without having to hire torchbearers.' 'Now who's fretting about every khalkos?' Sostratos said, and savored the dirty look Menedemos gave him. Being a new city, Kos was laid out in a grid, as Rhodes was. Once they got directions, Sostratos and Menedemos had no trouble finding Xenophanes' establishment. A man came out of the establishment across the street with his tunic rumpled and a lazy smile on his face. Other than that, the bawdy house seemed as peaceful as if the proprietor sold wool. A plump Karian slave bowed when Sostratos and Menedemos walked into Xenophanes' shop. 'The gentlemen from Rhodes!' he said in excellent Greek.
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