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?"
Someone knocked on the door to the rented house. "If that's the Samnite here so soon, I wish you had a spear, too," Sostratos said. But it wasn't - it was Aristeidas, back from the Aphrodite with half a dozen men, Diokles among them.
"So you've sold a couple of birds, have you?" the oarmaster said. "That'll make a nice pile of silver, I expect. Don't blame you a bit for wanting to make sure you get it." He carried a stout, iron-headed club in place of a sword. Sostratos wouldn't have wanted to stand against him.
A couple of the sailors looked a little the worse for wear from wine, but they all seemed ready to fight if it came to that. Sostratos hoped it wouldn't. But his cousin was right: being ready for trouble made it less likely.
Half an hour later, another knock sounded. Sostratos opened the door again. There stood Herennius Egnatius. He had a sword on his hip, too. The four stocky, broad shouldered men at his back didn't look like slaves - they looked like soldiers. They all wore helmets, three of bronze, one of iron. One of them did carry a spear; the others wore swords. Seeing the blade on Sostratos' belt, the Samnite said, "I don't care to be robbed carrying money through the streets."
"Of course not," Sostratos answered smoothly. He stood aside. "Come in."
The Samnite's retainers and the sailors from the Aphrodite eyed one another. Herennius Egnatius took the armed Hellenes in stride. "I see you are men who let no one use you unjustly," he said. "That is very good."
"Not that you would have done such a thing," Sostratos said, not raising an eyebrow - much.
"Of course not," Herennius Egnatius said blandly. "Perhaps it is just as well that we have no misunderstandings."
"Indeed." Sostratos' eyebrow climbed a little higher. "I hope you did bring the money as well as your retainers, on the off chance you might need it."
"I did." If Herennius Egnatius noticed Sostratos' sarcasm, he didn't acknowledge it. He spoke to one of his own men in Oscan. Again, Sostratos was struck by how similar the sounds of the language were to those of Greek, though he could make out none of the words. The Samnite had to repeat himself, raising his voice the second time; his retainers were as captivated by their first sight of the peacock as he had been. The bird's display even kept them from sending quite so many mute challenges to the sailors from the Aphrodite.
The leather sack the Samnite retainer handed to Sostratos was nicely heavy with silver. "I thank you," Sostratos said. By the shrug the Samnite gave him, the fellow knew no Greek. Sostratos turned back to Herennius Egnatius. "As soon as I have counted the coins, the birds are yours."
Counting out 875 drakhmai took some little while. There were fewer than 875 coins in the sack, for it held didrakhms and tetradrakhms as well as the pieces of silver worth a single drakhma. Not all of them were Tarentine coins; a fair number came from Syracuse. Sostratos went into a back room and weighed a Syracusan drakhma against a Tarentine counterpart. When the coin from Syracuse proved heavier, he came back and went on counting without another word.
At last, he dipped his head. "This is payment in full for the peacock and for one peahen," he said formally, and held out his hand to Herennius Egnatius. As formally, the Samnite clasped it.
"How shall I take the birds back to my guest-friend's house?" Herennius Egnatius asked.
"If you'd like, I can sell you the cages in which we brought the birds from Hellas," Sostratos replied. "Or, if you would rather, you can put ropes round their necks so they don't run away. I wouldn't try just herding them through the streets of Taras - they can run about as fast as a man can."
Herennius Egnatius drew himself up straight again. Speaking as proudly as a Hellene might have, he said, "I think five men can control two birds." He switched languages. After a couple of sentences of Oscan, his followers nodded. They thought they could handle the peafowl, too.
Sostratos shrugged. "The birds are yours, O best one. Do with them as you please. You asked me a question, and I answered it as best I could."
Maybe a couple of the Samnites had experience herding geese, for they managed to chivvy the peacock and peahen out the door and onto the street without too much trouble. Sostratos closed the door after them. When he came back into the courtyard, Menedemos said, "There's two of the miserable birds gone, anyhow."
