“I thank you.” The man popped it into his mouth. It was heavy enough to make his cheek sag slightly. “A pleasure to know I'm dealing with 'onest men.” He put that extra coin in on purpose, to see what we'd do, Menedemos realized as he passed the Kean the emerald. The fellow might move slowly and talk like a rustic, but he was no fool. Nikodromos had played the same game, but only after he'd been caught cheating himself. This felt different—not nearly so annoying. “A pleasure to know our goods please you,” Sostratos said. “You might say so.” The local dipped his head. “Yes, you just might say so. 'Ail, the two of you.” Without any fuss, he turned and ambled out of the market square. I never even found out his name, Menedemos thought. He called out to the fellow selling raisins: “Ea, friend, who's that man we were doing business with?” The fellow's eyes got big. “You don't know Kallimedes son of Kallias?” By the way he said it, everybody on Keos knew him. Sure enough, the raisin seller went on, “ 'E's got bigger wheatfields and more olive trees than anybody else on this island, maybe more than everybody else on this island put together—I wouldn't be surprised.” “No wonder he could afford what we were selling,” Sostratos murmured. “No wonder at all,” Menedemos whispered back. He asked the man with the basket of raisins, “Was he buying our dainties for his wife or for a favorite hetaira?” “Kallimedes?” The raisin seller stared again. “You must not know him. Those are bound to be for a pretty boy. 'E's mad for boys, Kallimedes is.” “Oh,” Menedemos said in slightly crestfallen tones. “Ha,” Sostratos said. Menedemos tried to step on his foot, but missed. His cousin laughed. Menedemos muttered under his breath. He hadn't really intended doing anything with Kallimedes' wife, if the Kean had one. He'd just asked out of curiosity. And he'd got his answer. “I think we're done here,” he told Sostratos, who dipped his head in agreement. As they headed back toward the Aphrodite. Menedemos wished he were wearing his sword. He hadn't expected to be carrying so much silver. But he and Sostratos had no trouble. Not even the panting scavenger dogs found a couple of strangers worth barking at. On board ship, Dionysios son of Herakleitos remained in a foul mood. “You've certainly gone and wasted the best part of the day.” “Wasted? I should say not, O marvelous one.” Menedemos held up the two sacks of coins he'd got from Kallimedes son of Kallias. “Do you see these? Which do you suppose is more important to me, the business I did here or your paltry fare?” “Paltry?” Dionysios said. “You've got your nerve, calling it that.”
Вы читаете The Gryphon's Skull
