Harry Turtledove - Over the Wine-Dark Sea

As he made his slow way up the pier, he managed a grin and said, "Look at me. I'm the last part of the answer to the Sphinx's riddle."

"Heh!" one of the sailors said. "That riddle's not so much. We see any of those scoundrels who set on you, skipper, we'll leave 'em on all fours even if they aren't babies." The other men with Menedemos dipped their heads. They all wore knives. They all had their right hands on their hilts - no, all but Didymos, who was lefthanded. He had a righthanded twin who was also a sailor, though not on the Aphrodite.

Menedemos saw none of the ruffians on the way back to the house where he and Sostratos were staying. Someone he didn't recognize was standing not far from the door when he and his escort came round the corner, but that fellow turned and walked off before Menedemos could find out what, if anything, he had in mind.

He brought the sailors in for a cup of wine. Sostratos, who was still muttering over the counting board, looked up in surprise. "What's all this in aid of?" he asked.

Trying to keep his tone light, Menedemos answered, "I had a little trouble coming back from the ropemaker's."

"Did you?" Sostratos raised an eyebrow, a characteristic gesture. He pointed to the sailors. "Looks as though you had more than a little."

"Well, maybe," Menedemos allowed. He told the story in a few bald words, leaving out any mention of either Gylippos or Phyllis.

"I'm glad you're all right," his cousin said when he finished. What Sostratos' eyes said was, I told you so. So he had, and he'd been right, too. That didn't make Menedemos any happier to be on the receiving end of his glare.

Menedemos took a cup of wine for himself, too, and mixed very little water with it. It didn't make his ankle feel much better - only time would do that - but it made him feel better. He gave the sailors a drakhma apiece (which made Sostratos mutter afresh) and sent them back to the Aphrodite.

Later, when he and Sostratos were both sitting in the house's cramped little andron, his cousin said, "You're lucky you're still breathing, you know."

"That thought did cross my mind, yes," Menedemos admitted.

"Then why did you do it?" Sostratos asked.

"Why did I do what? Run? Because I wanted to keep on breathing, that's why," Menedemos answered.

Sostratos let out an irritated snort. "Do you take me for a fool? You know perfectly well what I meant. Why did you go to Phyllis the second time? The first one doesn't count; you didn't know she wasn't a slave till afterwards."

"Thank you so much," Menedemos said. Sostratos snorted again, and glowered so fiercely that Menedemos felt he had to answer him. He did his best: "Why? Because I felt like it, and it was fun, and I thought I could get away with it."

"I'm sure you thought the same thing in Halikarnassos, too," Sostratos said. "How many lessons will you need before you realize that's a mistake? What will have to happen to you to get it through your head?"

"I don't know," Menedemos said sullenly. His father would have done a better job of raking him over the coals, but not much. Philodemos had a sharper temper - one closer to Menedemos' - but Sostratos sounded more self-righteous.

"One of these days, some husband will catch you in the act, and then . . ." Sostratos sliced a thumb across his throat. "Some would say you had it coming."

"If I'd already had it, if I were coming, he wouldn't catch me in the act." Menedemos managed a grin no matter how much his ankle hurt.

"You're impossible," Sostratos said, and Menedemos dipped his head, as if at a compliment. His cousin asked, "Are we ready to sail on short notice?"

That was a business question, whatever had spawned it. Menedemos dipped his head again. "Yes."

"Gods be praised," Sostratos said.

* * *

Lamakhos smirked as Sostratos walked into his establishment. "Shall I find out if Maibia wants to see you?" he asked.

"Yes, if you'd be so kind." Sostratos did his best to ignore the brothelkeeper's scorn. Lamakhos gestured to a slave. She started back toward the Keltic girl's chamber. Sostratos called after her: "Tell Maibia we're sailing soon." The slave, an Italian, nodded to show she'd heard.

Lamakhos set his hands on his hips. "I wondered if you might want to buy her to take with you," he said; by wondered he doubtless meant hoped. "Plainly, you're more than fond of her. I could give you a good price."

"No, thank you." Sostratos tossed his head. "Taking her on board a merchant galley - that's just more trouble than it's worth."

"A bargain - " Lamakhos began.

Before he could launch into his sales pitch, the slave girl came back and told Menedemos, "She will see you." Her voice held faint contempt, too. Maibia was a slave in a brothel, but dictating terms to a free man. If that wasn't shameful, what was?

"Think about it," Lamakhos said as Sostratos hurried off toward the Kelt's room. "Maybe you could get your sailors to chip in if you don't want her for yourself. They could share her out on the sea."

"Bad for discipline," Sostratos said over his shoulder. The brothelkeeper, he thought, would make an excellent eunuch. If the fellow who did the cutting were to take his tongue, too . . .

He opened the door to Maibia's chamber. Such bloodthirsty thoughts flew from his head. She wore the tunic of Koan silk, in which she looked even more alluring than she did naked. "Is it true what Fabia told me, that you'll be leaving before long?" she asked.

"Yes, it's true." Sostratos closed the door behind him. "I'll miss you," he went on. "I'll miss you more than I thought I would."

"But not enough to be after taking me with you." Maibia sighed. Through the thin silk, the sigh was worth watching. "In spite of what you said and all, I did hope you might. I'd be good to you, Sostratos; you know I would."

She'd be good to him for as long as he kept her in the style she wanted, or until she found someone who'd keep her in higher style. He didn't blame her for wanting to escape from Lamakhos. Who wouldn't? But he tossed his head even so. "I'm sorry. I told you how things are. I didn't lie to you."

"Truth that," she said, and Sostratos felt the snugness one feels for playing the game by the rules and winning anyhow. Maibia promptly punctured it: "Sure and it is a truth, but not one that does me any good at all, at all. I'm still stuck here, still here to be stuck by any spalpeen with the silver to pay for it. And why should you be caring? You've had your fun."

How much did playing the game by the rules matter when those rules were stacked in your favor? She was only a woman, only a barbarian, only a slave; she had no business making him feel so guilty. But somehow she'd done it. "Here," he said roughly, and gave her his farewell gift: five heavy Tarentine tetradrakhms. "I hope this is better than nothing." He'd intended that for sarcasm; it come out sounding more like an apology.

Maibia took the silver coins and made them disappear. With luck, they'd disappear from Lamakhos, too. "Better nor nothing?" she said. "Sure and it is. What I'd hoped for?" She sighed and shook her head, then looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "And I suppose you'll be wanting it once more, for good-bye's sake?"

"Well . . ." Sostratos hadn't been able to keep his eyes from traveling along her sweetly curved body. I could deny myself, he thought. That would make me feel virtuous. Then he laughed at the absurdity of virtue in a brothel. And he did want her, virtue or no. He compromised with himself: "However you please. The silver is yours either way."

"What a strange man y'are, Sostratos," Maibia remarked. He couldn't tell whether that was meant for praise or curse. A moment later, she pulled the thin chiton off over her head, and he stopped caring one way or the other. "Why not?" she said as she stepped into his arms. "Better you nor plenty of others I can think of." Again, he wondered whether that was praise or something else. Again, he didn't worry about it for long.