He got the emeralds for five minai, fifty drakhmai. “Thief,” Thrasyllos ground out even as he clasped Menedemos' hand to seal the bargain. “By no means,” Menedemos said, though he was sure he would turn a handsome profit on the deal. “Ptolemaios won't hear about this even if he brings his whole fleet into the harbor here.” That made Thrasyllos nervous all over again, as Menedemos had hoped it would. He turned to Sostratos. “Would you be so kind as to get the gentleman his silver while I wait here with him?” I'll make sure he doesn't change his mind, was what he meant. Sostratos knew as much. He knew more than that, for as he dipped his head, he said, “If I get it, your father won't hear about it quite so soon,” “Maybe.” Menedemos waved him away. Sostratos went, a grin on his face. Menedemos didn't like yielding him the last word, but liked squabbling with him in front of a stranger even less. When Sostratos got back, he wore a sword on his hip and had a couple of burly slaves with him. Even in law- abiding Rhodes, carrying five and a half minai of silver was not to be taken lightly. “Here you are,” Sostratos said, handing Thrasyllos the fat leather sack he'd brought. Menedemos held out his hand, and Thrasyllos gave him the much smaller sack with the emeralds. Before leaving the Aura's deck, Menedemos opened the sack, poured the stones into the palm of his hand, and counted them. “Don't you trust me?” Thrasyllos asked in aggrieved tones. “. . . twelve . . , thirteen . .. fourteen,” Menedemos muttered. Then, having satisfied himself, he replied, “Of course I do, best one.” Now I trust you. “Better to be safe, though.” “Safe?” the round-ship captain echoed. “I don't think I'll ever feel safe again. You'd better go now, before one of my sailors comes back and wonders who you are and what you're doing here.” “Just as you say,” Menedemos answered. If this wasn't Thrasyllos' first smuggling venture, he would have been amazed. I wonder if I could blackmail him into giving us the emeralds for nothing, he thought. More than a little reluctantly, he tossed his head. He'd made a bargain. “Come on, Sostratos.” Thrasyllos dashed into the deckhouse with his silver, no doubt to stow it in the safest, most secret place he could find. As Menedemos and Sostratos went down the pier, Sostratos said, “You were thinking about squeezing him even harder, weren't you? I saw it in your eyes.” “Who, me?” Menedemos said in his most innocent tones. They both laughed. When Menedemos got home, he found his father waiting for him in the courtyard. “Let's see those gemstones you just bought,” Philodemos said. So much for keeping things quiet, Menedemos thought. Sostratos must have told his father why he needed the money, and Uncle Lysistratos would have hotfooted it next door to give Philodemos the news. “Here you are, sir,” Menedemos said, and handed his father the little sack he'd got from Thrasyllos. As he had himself, Philodemos poured the emeralds out into the palm of his hand, Menedemos had brought them up close to his face for a better look. His father didn't. Philodemos held them out at arm's length. Even then, he grumbled; his sight had lengthened over the past few years. But at last he dipped his head. “You'll get some money from jewelers and rich men, sure enough. How much did you pay for the lot of 'em? Six minai?” “Five and a half, Father,” Menedemos answered.
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