Harry Turtledove - Over the Wine-Dark Sea

"Oh," Herennius Egnatius said softly, and then something in his own language - Oscan, Sostratos supposed it was. The sounds weren't so very different from those of Greek, though of course Sostratos couldn't understand the words. After a moment, the Samnite recovered and returned to Greek: "Now I do understand. What is your price?"

"Before we speak of such things, let me introduce you to my cousin, Menedemos son of Philodemos," Sostratos said. "Menedemos, here I have Herennius Egnatius, who is interested in peafowl."

Menedemos instantly went from grouchy to charming, clasping the Italian's hand and saying, "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. May I get you a cup of wine? It's just a local vintage, I'm afraid, though if you should want our Ariousian I could get you a sample."

Herennius Egnatius shook his head; as it did to Himilkon the Phoenician and to many other barbarians, that meant no to him. "The local wine will do well enough for me. I am looking for a way to make myself stand out. Many traders bring fine wine to Italy; some even bring it up to Samnium. But I have never seen such a bird as that." His eyes kept going back to the gleaming polychrome splendor of the peacock's plumage.

"We have only the one peacock." Menedemos stuck his thumb in the air to emphasize the point. "We have four peahens, and we have - how many eggs now, Sostratos?"

"Twenty-nine," Sostratos answered: he was the fellow who kept track of things. "The first of them should start hatching in less than half a month."

"Thanks." Menedemos dipped his head and went on, "Twenty-nine eggs, then. Unless you make us an extraordinary offer for the peacock, we would rather sell you a peahen or some eggs, to let you start your own flock in . . .?"

"I live in Caudium." The Samnite shook his head again, and pointed at the peacock. "This is the bird I want. I will also buy a peahen, so that I may breed peafowl for myself."

He didn't lack for arrogance. Gently, Sostratos said, "As my cousin told you, you would have to make an extraordinary offer, because we probably would not be able to get so much for the other peahens and the eggs without the peacock to show what the buyer is really getting."

"I understand," Herennius Egnatius said. "I also understood your cousin. For the pair of birds, I will pay five minai of silver in the money of Taras."

"Five minai." Sostratos did his best to sound thoughtful rather than delighted. That was a good deal more than Menedemos and he had paid for all six peafowl. Of course, the Samnite didn't know what they'd paid.

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than Menedemos said, "I'm sorry, sir, but we do have to make a profit. Ten minai for the pair would, but five?" He tossed his head. If he had any trouble concealing his delight, he didn't show it.

"I am sure you would make a profit on ten minai," Herennius Egnatius said. The haggling began. It followed familiar lines - except that the Samnite didn't realize how high his opening offer was. Sostratos and Menedemos made sure he didn't figure it out, either: they bargained with him as hard as if that first offer were outrageously low. By fighting over every drakhma, they made him think it was.

"Is the Tarentine drakhma lighter or heavier than ours?" Menedemos asked as the dicker drew toward a close.

"A little heavier," answered Sostratos, who'd had to change money - and to pay the fee for doing it.

"Well, shall we take eight minai, fifty drakhmai, then?" Menedemos said.

But now Sostratos was the one to toss his head. "No. I think eight minai, seventy-five drakhmai is the least we can take. I hate going below nine minai at all." He folded his arms across his chest and gave Herennius Egnatius as stony a stare as he could. He didn't think the Samnite would walk away from the deal - the fellow had already talked himself into buying the birds, which meant he had to talk the men who owned them into selling.

And, sure enough, Herennius Egnatius nodded to show he agreed. "I shall pay you eight minai, seventy-five drakhmai of Taras for the peacock and a peahen," he said, and held out his hand. Sostratos and Menedemos clasped it in turn. The Samnite went on, "Let me go back to the house of my guest-friend. My slaves and I will bring you the money this afternoon."

"That will do," Sostratos said, and Menedemos dipped his head. Sostratos went on, "If you don't mind my asking, why did you bring so much money here to Taras in the first place? It can't have been for peacocks."

"No," Herennius Egnatius said. "I came here to buy a fancy woman and bring her back with me. But your birds will set me apart from my neighbors even better. Anyone can buy a fancy woman, but not just anyone can have a peacock."

"I see," Sostratos said, and he did, too. A social climber, that's what he is. Sostratos had to fight to hold his face straight. Who would have thought a backwoods Italian town spawned social climbers?

Anticipation in his voice, Herennius Egnatius added, "I should like to see Gellius Pontius match me now." He bowed to Sostratos, and then to Menedemos. "Thank you, gentlemen. I shall see you this afternoon."

As soon as he'd left, Menedemos said, "Aristeidas!"

"What is it?" asked the sailor serving as doorman.

"Hurry over to the Aphrodite," Menedemos answered. "Round up six or eight sailors and get 'em back here as fast as you can. Have 'em bring swords - not knives, swords - and wear helmets if they've got 'em. Don't waste time - get moving."

Aristeidas dipped his head and was gone. Sostratos said, "You don't think - ?"

"That he'd try to steal the birds instead of paying for them?" Menedemos shrugged. "The Samnites are warriors, which means they're robbers if they see the chance. If he doesn't see the chance, I think he'll be mild as overwatered wine and sweet as honey."

Sostratos didn't have to ponder that for very long before he said, "You're probably right. Better safe than sorry."

"Just what I thought myself," Menedemos said. "I'm going to wear my sword, too. And you ought to dig yours out and belt it on."

"Me?" That hadn't occurred to Sostratos. "But I'm a hopeless dub when it comes to fighting."

"You know that, and I know that, but Herennius Egnatius doesn't know it," Menedemos said. "All he knows is that you're taller than anybody has any business being and that you'll have a sword on your belt. Nobody who hasn't seen you working in the gymnasion wants any trouble with you."

The obvious implication was that anyone who had seen Sostratos at his exercises wouldn't worry about him very much. Since the obvious implication was true, he said no more than, "Let me rummage through my gear. I hope I didn't leave the blade back on the Aphrodite."

"You'd better not have!" Menedemos exclaimed.

"Taras is a civilized city," Sostratos said with dignity. "Am I a barbarian, to go armed inside a polis?" But then, automatically looking at the other side of things, he went on, "Of course, Taras isn't an ordinary polis, like the ones back in Hellas, not with the Italian barbarians just over the border. And there are some towns farther north that used to be Hellenic, but that the Italians have overrun."

"Thanks for the history lesson, but save it for another time," Menedemos said dryly. "What you need to do now is find that sword."

Sostratos went through the two duffel bags he'd brought from the ship. Somewhat to his own surprise, he discovered the sword at the bottom of the second one. The bronze scabbard slapped against his left thigh after he put on the sword belt. He felt as if he should lean a little to the right to compensate for the weight of blade and sheath.

Menedemos, by contrast, looked quite impressively martial with a sword on his hip. "What I wish I had is a hoplite's spear," he said. "But there's not much point to bringing one aboard ship, is there?"