Harry Turtledove - Over the Wine-Dark Sea

Before he could say anything, Alyattes the slave came in and announced, "Master, the other trader, the one called Menedemos, is here."

"Bring 'im in. Maybe 'e'll be more reasonable," Aristagoras said. "And if not . . ." The wine seller shrugged. "Many good-byes to them both. They can do business somewhere else."

"Hail," Menedemos said when the Lydian slave led him back to the room where Sostratos and Aristagoras were dickering.

"Hail," Sostratos answered in a distinctly hollow voice.

If Menedemos noticed that, he didn't let it show. He clasped hands with Aristagoras, then slapped Sostratos on the back almost hard enough to knock him off the stool Alyattes had given him. "By the dog of Egypt, cousin, you're the lucky one. I went down to Poseidon's temple and made my offering, and here you've been guzzling away at the nectar of the gods."

Remembering his own comment about the gods' being unable to afford Aristagoras' wine, Sostratos kept his mouth shut. Aristagoras said, "If you'd care to taste this for yourself . . .?" When Menedemos dipped his head, Alyattes poured him a cup. Aristagoras went on, "Your - cousin, is it? - your cousin, yes, 'as been doing 'is best to persuade me the wine isn't worth what I say it is."

Menedemos shot Sostratos a hooded glance, but one so swift, it was gone almost before Sostratos was sure he saw it. With a laugh, Menedemos said, "Well, that's a merchant's job, after all, O best one." He sipped the Ariousian. His eyes widened. "We won't get this cheap, will we?"

"Your cousin was trying 'is best," the wine seller said dryly. "But no, my friend, you won't. I know what I've got, and I know what it's worth."

"I'm sure you do." Menedemos dipped his head. He sipped again. His eyes closed, as if a flutegirl at a symposion had started doing something extraordinarily pleasurable. "Oh, my. That is the real stuff. No one could mistake it, not even for a heartbeat. And what they'll pay in Italy!" His eyes closed again, this time contemplating a different sort of ecstasy.

"I should say it is, and I should say they will." Aristagoras dipped his head, too, and then looked daggers at Sostratos.

Sostratos, for his part, felt like looking daggers at Menedemos. The only reason he didn't was to keep Aristagoras from getting even more of the upper hand in the dicker. But, from everything Sostratos could see, the wine merchant already had a sizable edge, and Menedemos seemed intent on giving him more.

Menedemos drained the little cup Alyattes had given him and sighed. At Aristagoras' gesture, the Lydian slave filled it again. "I thank you," Menedemos told him. He gave Aristagoras a seated bow. "And I thank you." He took another sip. "Exquisite, just exquisite. I wouldn't be surprised if you were getting twelve drakhmai for an amphora, maybe even thirteen."

"I'm getting twenty," Aristagoras said. But he didn't get angry, as he had with Sostratos. Menedemos' charm had softened him a little; he no longer glared like a blunt-nosed viper about to bite. Sostratos saw what he'd done wrong - saw it, as one usually does in such affairs, too late.

"I can well believe that you'd ask twenty." Menedemos' smile remained easy, ingratiating. "But it's a long haul from Khios to Italy, and I have expenses, too - and the Italiotes, in spite of what people say, aren't quite made of money. What do you say to fourteen drakhmai a jar?"

He'd come up twice now, and without even being asked. Would Aristagoras move at all? If he didn't, would Menedemos give him every obolos he demanded? Sostratos had the dreadful feeling his cousin would. If they bought wine, even Ariousian, at twenty drakhmai the amphora, could they sell enough of it in Italy at a high enough price to make it worthwhile? He doubted it.

"Your expenses aren't my worry," Aristagoras said, and Sostratos' heart sank.

"I know that, sir," Menedemos said. Suddenly, Sostratos' hopes began to rise. Whenever his cousin sounded that earnest, good things followed - good things for Menedemos, that is. This was the tone he used to sweet-talk other men's wives into bed with him. He went on, "I do so want to do business with you, but twenty seems the tiniest bit high. You'll have met my father, I expect. You know what he's like. Old-fashioned? I should say so!" He rolled his eyes. "I just don't think he could stay reasonable if he heard a number like that."

Sostratos waited. Had he haggled like that, Aristagoras would have thrown him out onto the street on his backside. He was sure of it. With Menedemos . . . With Menedemos, the wine seller said, "Well, you've gone up a couple of drakhmai. I don't suppose the Persian Empire will come back to life if I drop one."

They settled at sixteen drakhmai the amphora. Sostratos would have been happier at fifteen, but he hadn't been able to make Aristagoras move at all. Menedemos, now, Menedemos had Aristagoras eating out of the palm of his hand. "Have the slaves bring the jars to my ship tomorrow morning," he said.

"I'll do that," Aristagoras said. "Meanwhile, you and your cousin are welcome to take supper with me and to spend the night here if you care to."

"We'll do that, and thank you kindly for it," Menedemos said.

Sostratos added, "Would you send one of your slaves by the Aphrodite now, to let our men know where we'll be in case of trouble?"

"I suppose so, though you seem to worry about every little thing," the wine merchant said. The comment made Sostratos feel like breaking an amphora over Aristagoras' head, but he refrained.

As Aristagoras was instructing the slave, Sostratos managed to murmur a few words to Menedemos. "I'm glad you came along when you did. I managed to get him angry at me, and we wouldn't have had a bargain."

"Don't let it trouble you," Menedemos replied. "I almost queered the deal with Xenophanes, down on Kos. As long as things work out one way or another, who cares how?"

More often than not, Menedemos wouldn't say any such thing. More often than not, he would grab all the credit and leave all the blame for Sostratos. He might do that yet, on this very journey. For now, maybe the thanks-offering to Poseidon had left him feeling more charitable than usual. Sostratos could think of nothing else to account for it. Whatever the reason, he was glad his cousin answered lightly.

Supper included some splendid tuna steaks, enough to warm the heart of the most jaded opsophagos. Supper also included a very pretty serving-girl, with whom Menedemos wasted no time in coming to an arrangement. Aristagoras chuckled. "I'll make sure the two of you have separate rooms. Do you want a girl for yourself tonight, Master Sostratos?"

"No, thank you," Sostratos said. Menedemos looked at him as if he were daft. Aristagoras shrugged. Sostratos didn't regret his choice. The wine seller probably wouldn't have another girl as good-looking as this one, and a slave ordered to go to bed with him wouldn't show much enthusiasm, while the serving-girl seemed about ready to climb up onto the couch with Menedemos and ravish him on the spot.

That all made good sense to Sostratos till he and Menedemos went to bed. Whether from efficiency or cruelty, Aristagoras put them in adjoining rooms. The wall wasn't very thick. Sostratos got to listen to the fun Menedemos was having next door. By the noises he and the girl made, they were having lots of fun. Sostratos wrapped his chiton around his head. That did next to nothing to block the amorous racket. Eventually, he fell asleep in spite of it.

The clear poo-poo-poo call of a hoopoe woke Menedemos somewhere around sunrise. He started to sit up, and discovered he couldn't: the serving-girl's warm, bare body was draped over his. He smiled to himself as he patted her backside. It had been quite a night.

Her eyes came open. "Good day, Leuke," Menedemos said.

For a moment, she looked confused. He wondered how many of Aristagoras' guests she'd slept with. Better not to wonder something like that, he thought. Leuke didn't stay confused long. "Good day," she purred, and stretched languorously.