'Half a drakhma?' Menedemos yelped. 'For a feather?' A drakhma a day could feed and house a man and his family - not in any style, but it would put a roof over their heads and keep them from starving. 'That's robbery!' Himilkon smiled. 'I'll deduct it from the price of the bird . . . if you're a customer.' Like any Hellene going out where he might spend some money, Menedemos had a couple of oboloi tucked between his cheek and his teeth. He spat the little silver coins into the palm of his hand and dried them on his tunic. Then he nudged his cousin, who produced another one. Menedemos handed Himilkon the coins. The Phoenician popped them into his own mouth. Menedemos asked, 'Well, what do you want for him - and for the peahens, too?' Some of the men who'd chased the peacock went back to what they had been doing now that it was back in its cage. Others hung around to watch the haggling, which might also prove entertaining. Himilkon plucked at his fancy curled beard, considering. He put so much into it, he might have been an actor in a comedy using his body to get across what his mask couldn't. At last, elaborately artless, he said, 'Oh, I don't know. A mina a bird sounds about right.' 'A pound of silver? A hundred drakhmai?' As Himilkon had worked to sound casual, Menedemos worked to sound horrified. Actually, he'd been braced for worse. Peafowl were obviously for the luxury trade. Nobody would raise them in the courtyard like ducks. Like any merchant galley, the Aphrodite specialized in carrying luxuries. She didn't have the capacity to make a profit hauling wheat or cheap wine, the way a tubby sailing ship could. Menedemos shot Sostratos a glance. A little slower than he should have, his cousin chimed in, 'It's an outrage, Himilkon - pure hubris. Half that much would be an outrage, and you know it.' Himilkon shook his head back and forth again, then tossed it as a Hellene would to show disagreement. 'No such thing, O best ones. I know you both. I know your fathers. If you buy my birds, you'll take them somewhere far away, and you'll sell them for plenty more than you pay. Tell me I'm wrong.' He set his hands on his hips and looked defiantly at the younger men. 'We'll try to do that, no doubt,' Menedemos said. 'But what if the peacock dies while we're at sea? What do we sell then? I saw the peahen in her cage; she's not pretty enough to bring much by herself.' 'Breed her to the cock. Breed all the hens you buy - if you buy any; if you don't go on trying to cheat me - to the cock,' Himilkon replied. 'Once they lay, you'll have plenty of birds to sell.' Sostratos said, 'But only the one peacock shows what anyone who buys a bird from us would want.' Himilkon's smile might have shown off a shark's teeth, not his own, which were square and rather yellow. 'In that case, you should pay me more for him, eh, not less.' The hangers-on laughed and clapped their hands at that. Menedemos shot Sostratos another glance, an angry one this time. But Sostratos tossed his head as calmly as if his opponent hadn't landed a telling blow. 'Not at all,' he said. 'A mina is too much for the peacock, and much too much for the peahens.'
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