Menedemos rubbed his chin as he considered. “Do you know, that might not be a bad notion after all,” he said at last. Then he gave Sostratos a suspicious look. “You weren’t going to take along philosophy and history, were you?”

“No, no, no.” Now Sostratos tossed his head, “I like such things, but how many soldiers are likely to? No, I was thinking of some of the more exciting books from the Iliad and the Odyssey. Anyone who has his alpha-beta can read those, so we’d have more people wanting to buy.”

“It’s a nice notion. It’s a clever notion, by Zeus.” Menedemos gave credit where it was due. “And books are light, and they don’t take up much space, and we can get a good price for them.” He dipped his head-in fact, he almost bowed to Sostratos. “We’ll do it. Go talk to the scribes. Buy what they’ve got written out and see how much they can copy before we sail.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Sostratos said.

Menedemos laughed. “I’ll bet you will. If I sounded that eager, I’d be going off to visit a fancy hetaira, not some nearsighted fellow with ink stains on his fingers.”

His cousin didn’t even splutter, which proved his point. “I’m always glad for an excuse to visit the scribes,” Sostratos said. “You never can tell when something new and interesting will have come into Rhodes.”

“Happy hunting,” Menedemos said. He wondered if Sostratos even heard him; his cousin’s eyes were far away, as if he were thinking about his beloved.

Even a polis as large and prosperous as Rhodes boasted no more than a handful of men who made their living by copying out books. Sostratos knew them all. The best, without a doubt, was Glaukias son of Kallime-don. He was fast, accurate, and legible, all at the same time. None of the others came close. Naturally, Sostratos visited him first.