He tried to haggle Sostratos down from his price. Sostratos declined to haggle; Rhoikos had made it clear he didn't want to stay in Tainaron. The slinger complained, but he said he'd come down to the beach every morning, too.
For the next three days, though, nobody showed any interest in going to Italy. Menedemos grumbled and fumed up on the foredeck. Sostratos tried to console him: "The peahens are laying more eggs."
"You were the one who wanted to get out of here," Menedemos snapped. "D'you think you're the only one?"
Sostratos stared at him. "I thought you were as happy as a pig in acorns."
"Do I look that stupid?" his cousin said in a low voice. "I put up a bold front for the men. So I took you in, too, eh? Good. We'll make money here, and that's why we came, but I'll thank all the gods when the cape slides under the horizon."
Plucking at his beard, Sostratos murmured, "There's more to you than meets the eye."
"You don't need to sound so accusing," Menedemos said with a laugh.
When the sailors rowed them to the beach the next morning, Philippos, Kallikrates, and Rhoikos were all waiting for them. As Sostratos had for the past several days, he said, "Not today, not unless we get lucky." The mercenaries growled things that didn't sound complimentary under their breaths.
And then Menedemos pointed in the direction of the huts and tents and said, "Hello! Somebody wants to see us."
Sure enough, a man was trotting down toward the beach. He wore a tunic and sandals, and carried a soldier's panoply in a canvas sack. "You there!" he called. "Do I hear rightly that you're sailing for Italy?"
"Yes, that's so," Sostratos answered.
"I'll give you a quarter of a mina to take me there," the fellow said, "as long as you sail today."
Sostratos and Menedemos looked at each other. Here was somebody who didn't just want to go to Italy; here was someone who needed to go there. "You'd be our fourth passenger," Sostratos said. "We were hoping for six."
"What are you charging for each?" the newcomer asked.
"Twelve drakhmai," Sostratos answered. He and Menedemos exchanged another look, this one not altogether happy. If the other three mercenaries hadn't been standing right there, he could have named a higher figure.
"All right, then. I'll give you" - the newcomer paused to count on his fingers - "thirty-six drakhmai to leave today." He rummaged through the sack and pulled out a smaller leather bag that clinked.
Philippos and Rhoikos muttered under their breath. Rhoikos stared at the fellow with the fat moneybag, or perhaps at the moneybag itself. Along with the silver, they saw the same thing Sostratos had: anybody willing to spend so freely was bound to have an urgent reason to be so willing. "Hold on," Sostratos said. "Tell me who you are and why you're in such a hurry to leave Tainaron."
Menedemos looked sour. Sostratos pretended not to see him. No matter how sour Menedemos looked, no matter how anxious he was to come off with a profit, Sostratos didn't want to carry a murderer, say, away from justice - assuming any justice was to be found at this southernmost tip of the mainland of Hellas.
"I'm Alexidamos son of Alexion," the mercenary answered. "I'm a Rhodian - like you, if what I heard is right." Sostratos dipped his head. Alexidamos' accent wasn't far removed from his own. The fellow continued, "I, ah, got into a disagreement with a captain named Diotimos, and all his men are looking for me, or will be soon."
Kallikrates pointed. "So you're the fellow who buggered Diotimos' boy! I'd get out of Tainaron, too, if I were you."
That told Sostratos what he needed to know. It told Menedemos the same thing. "Pay my toikharkhos now," he said dryly. "Something tells me you won't be so grateful once we've put Tainaron under the horizon."
Alexidamos glared, from which Sostratos concluded his cousin was right. But the mercenary started counting out Athenian drakhmai with their familiar staring owls. Sostratos accepted the coins without a word and with his face carefully blank. Attic drakhmai were heavier than those of Rhodes, so he was getting more silver from Alexidamos than he'd expected. If Alexidamos didn't worry about that, Sostratos didn't feel obligated to bring it to his notice.
Having paid, Alexidamos said, "Now can we leave?" He looked anxiously over his shoulder.
"What about us?" the other three mercenaries chorused. Still in unison, they went on, "We haven't got our gear here."
Menedemos took charge. "Go fetch it," he said briskly. He turned to Diokles. "Take this fellow to the Aphrodite. Come to think of it, take Sostratos and me, too. Things are liable to get lively here."
"Thank you," Alexidamos said as he stowed his sack in the bottom of the boat.
"Don't thank me yet," Menedemos said. "If there's a commotion and those other fellows can't come aboard, you'll pay their fares, too. I'm telling you now, so you can't say it's a surprise."
"That's robbery," Alexidamos yelped.
"Call it what you want," Menedemos said coolly. "The way I see things, you might be hurting my business. If you don't see them that way, you can always talk them over with Diotimos, or whatever his name was. Now - have we got a bargain, or haven't we?"
"A bargain," the mercenary choked out.
"I thought you'd be sensible," Menedemos said. He climbed into the boat. So did Sostratos. The sailors pushed the boat into the sea, scrambled in themselves, and rowed back to the Aphrodite.
Once they'd come aboard, Diokles pointed back toward the beach. "I think maybe we got out of there right in the nick of time, skipper," he said.
Along with the oarmaster and Menedemos, Sostratos looked over to the shore. Several men stood there, looking across the water toward the Aphrodite. The sun glittered from swords and spearheads. One of the men shouted something, but the akatos stood too far out to sea for his words to carry. Even if Sostratos couldn't hear them, he didn't think the shouter was paying Alexidamos any compliments.
"Pity about those other chaps," Sostratos said to Menedemos. "How are we going to get them off the beach if these soldiers keep hanging around?"
Menedemos shrugged. "We end up with the same fare either way."
"I think you ought to try to get them, too," Alexidamos said, which surprised Sostratos not at alclass="underline" he wouldn't have wanted to pay an extra thirty-six drakhmai, either. In its cage on the foredeck, the peacock screeched. Alexidamos jumped. "By the dog of Egypt, what's that?"
"A peacock," Sostratos answered. "Leave it alone."
"A peacock?" Alexidamos echoed. "Really?"
"Really." Sostratos looked in the direction of the beach again. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Philippos, Kallikrates, and Rhoikos returning: three newcomers, at least, were staring out toward the merchant galley. Plucking at his beard, he beckoned to Menedemos. They put their heads together and talked in low voices for a little while.
Not much later, four rowers and Alexidamos got into the ship's boat. The boat made for one of the blue-green-painted pirate ships anchored a few plethra away. Diotimos and his bully boys hurried along the beach after the boat. It pulled up behind the pirate ship. When it came back to the Aphrodite, only the rowers were to be seen. They climbed back up into the akatos.
The angry mercenaries on the beach shouted at the pirate ship through cupped hands. A pirate shouted back. Neither side seemed to have much luck understanding the other.
Sostratos had counted on that. Quietly, he told the rowers, "I think you can try picking up the others now. Tell them to move fast. If they don't, or if Diotimos' men make trouble, turn around and come back."