“Two reasons.” Sostratos looked around to make sure nobody was paying any special attention to them, then stuck his thumb in the air. “For one thing, Ptolemaios wouldn't find any precious stones hidden on the Aphrodite, but he would find the account books that talk about them. And, for another”—he stuck up his forefinger, too— “he might decide to hold us here till he sends to Keos or even to Aigina. Do you want to take the chance?” “Now that you mention it, no,” his cousin said. “Good. Neither do I.” Menedemos said, “We bought the emeralds in Rhodes, not in any of the lands Ptolemaios rules. We didn't break any of his laws to get them. I don't see how he really could condemn us for that.” “He's lord of Egypt, the richest man in the world, one of the four or five strongest men in the world,” Sostratos pointed out. “He doesn't need a reason. He can do as he pleases. That's what being one of the four or five strongest men in the world means. If he catches us lying ...” He shivered. “And we brought those stones through Kos before, and what do you want to bet he's made laws against that?” His cousin pulled a sour face. “You're probably right. No, you're certainly right. Very well, best one—you've convinced me. We go out tomorrow morning.” “Good,” Sostratos said. Menedemos chuckled. “Besides, I'd want to spirit you away before Ptolemaios makes you shorter by a head for calling him a fool in front of his men. Did you see how far his eyes bugged out?” “I'm a free Hellene, by the gods,” Sostratos said. “If he's not used to hearing people speak their minds, too bad for him.” “He being who he is, though, it's liable to be bad for anyone who does speak his mind,” Menedemos said, and Sostratos could hardly argue. He and Menedemos had almost reached the Aphrodite when someone called to them from behind. Alarm ran through Sostratos: had Ptolemaios decided to be difficult after all? But when he looked back over his shoulder, he recognized the fellow waving to them from up the street. “Hail, Pixodaros,” he said. “What can we do for you today? “ “Hail, both of you,” the silk dealer answered. “When I heard you'd come back to Kos, I thought it was a gift from the gods. Have you any more crimson dye?” “Certainly,” Sostratos answered. “How much do you need?” “How much do you have?” Pixodaros asked. “Let me think.” Sostratos plucked at his beard. “I believe we have . . . fifty-three jars. That's based on what we sold. It might be fewer, though. We had to fight off pirates, and they might have stolen a few when they went back to their own ship.” “By Zeus Labraundeus, I'm glad to see you well and safe,” Pixodaros said. “May they all go up on crosses!”
Вы читаете The Gryphon's Skull
