Children-and more than a few adults-came out of their houses to stare at the Rhodians. As elsewhere in Ioudaia, Sostratos wondered if these people had ever seen a Hellene before. He got to his feet, bowed in all directions, and spoke in Aramaic: “Peace be unto you all.”
Even though he’d already dickered with them for food, some of them seemed surprised he spoke their language. By their expressions, some seemed surprised he spoke any human language. But three or four men answered, “And to you also peace.” That was the right response.
Even though it was, it didn’t feel hearty enough to satisfy Sostratos. He bowed again. This time, he said, “May your one god bless Gamzo and all its people.”
That did the trick. Broad smiles gleamed on the faces of the Ioudaioi. All the men bowed to Sostratos. “May the one god bless you as well, stranger, and your friends,” a graybeard said. The rest of the villagers nodded.
“Stand up,” Sostratos hissed in Greek to the other Rhodians. “Bow to them. Be friendly.”
One after another, the sailors did. Aristeidas even proved able to say, “Peace be unto you,” in Aramaic. That made the people of Gamzo smile. Moskhion refrained from trotting out his frightful Aramaic obscenity. That made Sostratos smile.
Another gray-bearded man, this one wearing a robe of fine wool, said, “You are Ionians, not so?” Sostratos remembered to nod. The Ioudaian said, “We have heard evil things of Ionians, but you seem to be good enough men, even if you are foreigners. May the one god bless you and keep you. May he lift up his countenance unto you and give you peace.”
“Thank you,” Sostratos said, and bowed once more. A little more slowly than they should have, the sailors bowed again, too. Sostratos added, “And we thank you for your generous hospitality.”
“You are welcome in Gamzo,” the Ioudaian-plainly a village leader- declared. He strode up, clasped Sostratos’ hand, and kissed him on both cheeks. Then he did the same with the rest of the Rhodians. The men in the crowd came up after him. They greeted Sostratos and his companions the same way. Even the women drew near, though the Hellenes got no handclasps or kisses from them. Remembering the kisses he’d had from Zilpah in Jerusalem, Sostratos sighed. Somehow he’d pleased her and made her desperately unhappy all at the same time.
Deciding the Rhodians were safe enough, the folk of Gamzo withdrew back into their homes. Even so, Sostratos said, “We’ll divide the night into four watches. Everybody will take one. You never know.” The sailors didn’t argue with him. He’d half expected that they, or at least Teleutas, would, on the grounds that one sentry couldn’t keep the locals from doing whatever they were going to do. Maybe they’re starting to take me seriously, Sostratos thought with no small pride.
When morning came, Teleutas was all for an early departure. Sostratos’ pride only grew. Even the sometimes difficult sailor was acting responsible. Sostratos wondered if Teleutas was following his example.
It was about the third hour of the day when Sostratos noticed Teleutas was wearing a golden bracelet he didn’t recall seeing before. “Where did you get that?” he asked.
The sailor grinned a sly grin. “Back in that miserable little dump where we stayed last night.”
That was likely to mean only one thing. Sostratos clapped a hand to his forehead. “Papai! You stole it?” So much for responsibility!
“Nothing to get upset about,” Teleutas said soothingly. “We’ll never see that place again in all our days.”
“They made us guest-friends, and that’s how you paid them back?” Sostratos said. Teleutas only shrugged; the ritual duties of guest-friends plainly meant nothing to him. Sostratos tried another tack: “What if all the men in Gamzo come after us and want to cut our livers out?”
Teleutas looked back toward the south and shrugged again. “I’ve been watching. No sign of a dust cloud or anything like that. We’re far enough ahead of ‘em by now that they can’t catch us. By Hermes, the fool I lifted it from probably still hasn’t figured out it’s gone missing.”
“No wonder you swear by the god of thieves,” Sostratos said. Teleutas grinned again, singularly unrepentant. Sostratos might have said a good deal more, but decided the road in a foreign land was no place to do it. He also decided that if the men of Gamzo came after the bracelet and Teleutas he would hand them the ornament and the sailor without a qualm.
He kept that to himself. He didn’t know how Aristeidas and Moskhion would react, and he didn’t want to risk destroying his ability to lead unless he had to. But he vowed he would talk with Menedemos about leaving Teleutas behind when he got back to Sidon. A man who would steal from barbarians he was unlikely to see again might not try stealing from his own shipmates. Then again, he might.
For the rest of the day, Sostratos kept looking back over his shoulder. He saw no sign of the villagers. In a way, that relieved him. In another way, it disappointed him. He might have used them as an excuse to be rid of Teleutas.
Farmers tended vineyards and olive groves. Shepherds and goatherds followed their flocks through the hills. Hawks circled overhead, looking for the mice and other small animals frightened out of cover when the flocks went by. Sostratos saw one swoop down and rise with something struggling in its talons. The struggle didn’t last long.
As the sun sank toward the Inner Sea, another band of young Ioudaioi came toward the Rhodians. There were eight of them. Sostratos saw they were all armed. He didn’t like the way their heads came up when they spotted his comrades and him: it put him in mind of a pack of dogs spotting a sick sheep they hoped to be able to pull down.
“Let’s get off the road and let them go by,” he said. “Look-there’s a clump of boulders where we can make a stand if we have to.”
He hoped the sailors would laugh at him and tell him he was starting at shadows. Instead, they all dipped their heads. Teleutas said, “Good idea. They look like a nasty bunch, and I’ll be glad to see their backs.” If he thought the Ioudaioi looked dangerous, they were only too likely to mean trouble.
By the time they came up to the Hellenes, Sostratos and the other men from the Aphrodite had already taken cover among the boulders by the side of the road. The sailors and Sostratos got their helmets from the pack donkey and jammed them down onto their heads. The Ioudaioi kept on toward the south, some of them trailing the butts of their spears in the dirt. They did not seem to own any body armor.
One of them waved to the Hellenes as he went past. “Peace be unto you,” he called. A couple of his pals laughed. Sostratos didn’t like the sound of that baying, mocking laughter. He didn’t answer.
“Maybe they’ll decide we’re a tough nut to crack, and they’ll go on by,” Moskhion said. “That’s what you said they do most of the time.”
“Maybe. I hope so.” Sostratos watched the young men head on down the track in the direction of Gamzo. “All the same, though, I don’t think we ought to leave this place for a while yet. They may try doubling back to catch us out in the open.” He thought about the hawk and about the little animal that had writhed-for a bit-in its claws.
Aristeidas peered out from a south-facing crevice between two good-sized stones. After perhaps a quarter of an hour had passed, he stiffened. “Here they come!”
“Oh, a pestilence!” Sostratos exclaimed. He’d been cautious, yes, but he hadn’t really believed the Ioudaioi would come back and try to rob his companions and him. But when he peered south himself, he saw that Aristeidas was right. The Ioudaioi were loping across the fields toward the boulders among which the Rhodians sheltered.
“Shoot the gods-detested catamites!” Moskhion said.
Sostratos put an arrow in the bow and drew a bead on the closest Ioudaian. The fellow wasn’t quite in range yet, but he would be soon. Sostratos drew the arrow back to his breast and then, in Persian fashion, back to his ear. The would-be robber ran straight at him-probably hadn’t seen him there among the rocks.