“So it is,” Menedemos said. “But we've got forty minai waiting for us in Kos. How much do you suppose that precious skull will bring?” “If we're lucky, something on the order of six minai,” Sostratos answered. “Lucky? That'd take a miracle from the gods,” Menedemos said. “Who'd be mad enough to pay such money for an old bone?” What he meant was, No one would pay such money for an old bone. Sostratos understood him perfectly well, too. But he said, “You're not always as smart as you think you are. Damonax son of Polydoros offered me that much back on Rhodes.” Menedemos stared. “And you told him no? You must have told him no.” Sostratos dipped his head. Still astonished, Menedemos asked, “But why? You can't think we'll get more than that in Athens. “I don't,” his cousin admitted. “But I took the skull to show it to him, not to sell. I don't want it gathering dust in a rich man's andron, or on display at drinking parties like Kleiteles' jackdaw with the little bronze shield. I want men who truly love wisdom to study it.” “You must,” Menedemos said, and then, “I'm glad no mosquito bite ever gave me the itch for philosophy.” He gathered himself. “But even if we got ten minai for the gryphon's skull, that'd only be a quarter part of forty. We can pick up Polemaios, bring him back to Kos, and then we can head for Athens. Am I right or am I wrong?” With a longing sigh, Sostratos said, “Oh, you're right, I suppose. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.” Scuffing his feet on the planking, he descended from the poop deck into the waist of the merchant galley. “Did I hear right, skipper?” Diokles asked in a low voice. “Six minai of silver for that silly skull, and he turned it down? Who's crazier, that other fellow for saying he'd pay it, or your cousin for telling him no?” “To the crows with me if I know,” Menedemos answered, also quietly, and the oarmaster laughed. But Menedemos went on, “He really does chase philosophy the way I chase girls, doesn't he?” In an odd sort of way, the way he would have admired a boy who declined an expensive gift from a suitor he didn't fancy, he found himself admiring Sostratos for rejecting Damonax's enormous offer. “You have more fun,” Diokles said. That made Menedemos chuckle. “Well, I think so, too,” he said. “But if Sostratos doesn't, who am I to tell him he's wrong?” Diokles grunted. ''I can think of a good many hetairai who'd be happy if a fellow gave 'em half a dozen minai. Fact is, I can't think of any so grand that they wouldn't be.” Menedemos only shrugged. Maybe Thai's, who'd talked Alexander the Great into burning Persepolis. But maybe not, too. The Aphrodite neared Lebinthos as the sun neared the Aegean Sea to the west. Menedemos steered the akatos toward a nice little harbor on the southern coast of the island. Both steering oars felt alike in his hands again; with seasoned timber at their disposal, Ptolemaios' carpenters hadn't needed long to replace the makeshift Euxenides of Phaselis had made. But even they'd praised it as they took it off the pivot. “Aristeidas, go forward,” Menedemos called. “If a pirate's lurking in that bay, you'd be the first to spot him.” “Not likely, skipper,” Diokles said as Aristeidas went. “No water to speak of on Lebintnos. If it's got more than a
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