Over the Wine Dark Sea

'You so relieve my mind,' Sostratos murmured. Menedemos grinned.   'We're not your ordinary hare, though,' Diokles said. 'We showed that triakonter we're an armored hare.' He chuckled. 'Aphrodite's a good name, mind, but I wouldn't mind sailing in a ship called Hoplolagos, just for the sake of surprising people.'   'No one gives ships names like that,' Menedemos said. 'You name them for gods, or after the sea or the waves or the foam or something like that, or you call them swift or fierce or bold -  or lucky, like that five of Ptolemaios' we met. I've never heard of a ship with a silly name.'   'Does that mean there should never be one?' Sostratos asked, a certain glint in his eye. 'Is the new bad merely for being new?'   With most men, that glint would have been lust. With Sostratos, Menedemos judged it likelier to be philosophy. He tossed his head. 'Save that one for the Lykeion, cousin. I'm not going to thrash my way through it now. We've got more important things to worry about, like coming away from Tainaron without getting our throats cut.'   He wondered if Sostratos would argue about that. When his cousin was feeling abstract, the real world often had a hard time making an impression on him. But Sostratos said, 'That's true enough. It's so true, maybe you should have thought about it sooner, thought about it more. I tried to get you to, if you'll recall.'   'I did think about it. You know that,' Menedemos said. 'I decided the chance for profit picking up men to go to Italy outweighs the risk. That doesn't mean I think there's no risk.'   Diokles pointed. 'There's the temple to Poseidon. It looks like the one building hereabouts that's made to last, set alongside all these huts and shacks and tents and things.'   'That's the temple with the bronze of the man on the dolphin, isn't it?' Sostratos said. 'I'd like to see it if I get the chance: it's the one Arion the minstrel offered after the dolphin took him to shore when he jumped into the sea to save himself from the crew of the ship he was on.'   The keleustes gave him a quizzical look. 'How do you know about that bronze? You've never been here before, have you?'   'No, he hasn't.' Menedemos spoke before his cousin could. He pointed a finger at Sostratos. 'All right, own up. Whose writing talks about it?'   'Herodotos',' Sostratos said sheepishly.   'Ha!' Menedemos wagged that finger. 'I thought as much.' He turned back to Diokles. 'Let them bring us a couple of plethra closer to land, but no more than that. Then we'll go ashore and see if we can hunt up some passengers. Pick some proper bruisers to man the boat, too -  I don't want to come back to the beach and find it's been stolen from under our noses.'   'Right you are,' the oarmaster said. 'Matter of fact, if you don't think you've got to have me here aboard, I wouldn't mind taking boat duty myself.'   Menedemos looked Diokles