The Gryphon's Skull

Before Sostratos could reply—and, very likely, before the argument could heat up-—a man standing on the pier said, “Hail.”

“Hail,” Sostratos and Menedemos said together. Even as Menedemos asked, “What can we do for you?” Sostratos found himself disliking the newcomer on sight. The fellow was close to forty, medium-sized, handsome, well built, and carried himself like an athlete. Jealous? Me? Sostratos thought, and then, Well, maybe a little.

“I hear you're sailing north and west,” the stranger said. “Will you be putting in at Miletos?” He had an odd accent, basically Doric but with a hissing, sneezy overlay. He's spent a lot of time in Lykia, Sostratos thought.

“Hadn't planned to,” Sostratos said blandly, “but I might.”

The man on the quay dipped his head. “It's like that, is it? What's your fare, then?”

Menedemos flicked Sostratos a glance. As toikharkhos, Sostratos had the job of charging as much as the passenger could bear to pay. Instead of answering directly, he asked a question of his own: “What's your name, O best one?”

“Me? I'm Euxenides of Phaselis,” the stranger replied.

That made Menedemos blink. Sostratos smiled to himself. The fellow's accent and his bearing had made Sostratos think that was who he was. And Antigonos held Miletos. One of his officers might well want to go there. Sostratos enjoyed being right no less than any other man. He said, “Perhaps you should know: it's almost certain we will put in at Kos.”

Kos was Ptolemaios' chief base in the Aegean. Euxenides asked, “Are you saying you'd betray me there? That's not how neutrals should behave.”

“No, nothing of the sort,” Sostratos replied. “But you'd best remember, we'll have a big crew on board—all our rowers. They will go into the taverns, and they will gossip. I don't think anyone could stop them,”

“And Ptolemaios' men will

have ears around to hear such things,” Euxenides finished for him. Sostratos dipped his head. Euxenides shrugged. “Chance I take. I'm not of a rank to make it likely that anyone much would have heard of me. How much for my passage? You still haven't said.”

“To Miletos?” Sostratos plucked at his beard, considering. “Twenty drakhmai should do it.”

“That's outrageous!” Euxenides exclaimed.

Most of the time, Sostratos would have asked half as much, and might have let himself be haggled down from there. Now he just shrugged and answered, “I have two questions for you, O marvelous one. First, when do you think another ship will sail from Rhodes to Miletos? And second, don't you think a trip to Miletos puts us in danger of ending up in the middle of a sea fight between Antigonos' ships and Ptolemaios'?”

Euxenides looked around the great harbor, as if hoping to find another ship on the point of sailing. There weren't more than a handful of akatoi in port, though, and he would have a long, slow journey on a round ship that had to tack its way up to Miletos against the prevailing northerly winds.

With a scowl, he said, “You're enjoying this, aren't you?”

“No one goes into business intending to lose money,” Sostratos replied.

“Twenty drakhmai? Pheu!”Euxenides sounded thoroughly disgusted. But he said, “All right, twenty it is. When do you sail?”

“Soon, I hope,” Sostratos said; as far as he was concerned, they'd already stayed in Rhodes much too long. He looked toward Menedemos. Being captain, his cousin had the last word in such things.

“Tomorrow, I hope,” Menedemos said. “We'll share our water, but you do know you'll have to bring your own food and wine?”

“Oh, yes. I've traveled by sea a good many times before,” Euxenides replied. “If we have to spend a night on the water, I expect I'll sleep on the foredeck.”

I wonder if it stilt stinks of peafowl dung when you lie down on it, Sostratos thought. He didn't say that to Antigonos' officer. All he said, was, “That's right.”

“I'll be here in the morning, then.” Euxenides went off down the pier.

“Twenty drakhmai,” Menedemos said. “That's more than I thought you'd squeeze out of him. Euge!”

“Thanks,” Sostratos said. “He wants to get back to Antigonos, and probably to tell him everything he saw of Ptolemaios' fleet and his army.”

“No doubt,” Menedemos agreed. “He'll likely tell him everything he's seen of Rhodes, too.”

“I hadn't thought of that.” Sostratos’ eyes went to the moles protecting the great harbor from the sea, and to the walls and towers fortifying them. “Maybe we shouldn't take him.”

“I think it's all right,” his cousin said. “Our works aren't exactly secret. Antigonos is bound to know about them about as well as our generals do.”

That made more sense than Sostratos wanted to admit, “I don't much care for the side trip, though.”

Menedemos laughed at him. “Of course you don't, my dear. It means you take a day or two longer to get to Athens. Believe me, nobody in Miletos will steal the gryphon's skull.”