“Bad?” Sostratos asked. “Worse,” Nikagoras said. “Sometimes it seems like you end up taking out half the planks and replacing them. And naturally the captain's screaming at you that he's got to get back into the fight as fast as he can, and that everything'll be buggered forever if you don't get him fixed up right away. You want to drown big-mouthed bastards like that, by the gods—they think you're too cursed stupid to figure things out for yourself.” “I'm just glad you're finally here,” Menedemos said. “It's taken a month of screaming at people to get a carpenter at all. Of course, the Aphrodite 's no warship.” “No, but you can fight if you have to. And,” Nikagoras said shrewdly, “a lot of the time, being able to fight means you don't have to, doesn't it?” “That's right,” Sostratos said. “You're a man who sees how things work.” “I try,” the carpenter said. “And that's a game I know myself. I haven't been in a brawl in close to twenty years now, on account of I look like I'm tough.” He made a fist, then grinned. “Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But nobody wants to find out the hard way.” “Fair enough,” Sostratos said. Men seldom wanted to brawl with him, either, because he was well above average size. He knew perfectly well that he wasn't particularly tough, but that wasn't obvious from looking at him. Nikagoras gulped the rest of the wine, wiped his mouth, and set down the cup. “Thank you kindly, best one. That hit the spot,” he told Menedemos, and then disappeared under the poop deck once more. A moment later, he started banging away with the mallet again. “A good man,” Sostratos said. “I wonder if you could persuade him to go to sea.” His cousin laughed. “My dear, you're reading my mind. I asked him that very thing, but he said, 'I repair ships for a living. D'you think I'd be daft enough to want to travel on one when I know what all can happen to them?' “ “Hmm.” Sostratos plucked at his beard. “What does that say about us?” Menedemos laughed again. “Nothing good, I'm certain.” “ Come on, you lazy whoresons,” Diokles called to the Aphrodites rowers. “Put your backs into it, and your arms, too. Do you still remember how to pull an oar? Rhyppapai!. Rhyppapai!” A couple of men groaned as they stroked. Listening to them, Menedemos could tell how much the unnatural layoff had cost them as a crew. “We'll have plenty of sore muscles tonight,” he predicted as the Aphrodite glided out of Kos' harbor. “That we will,” the keleustes agreed. “Blistered hands, too, same as we do when we start out in the spring.” “If they'll rub oil on their hands as soon as they start getting raw, they won't blister so much,” Sostratos said.
Вы читаете The Gryphon's Skull
