Killer of Men - Christian Cameron [101]
Lord Pelagius played no favourites, although by the time I had my armour on, I knew that the big lordling was his grandson. He could have made me run in the first heat, but he didn’t, and he ran the pulls – the removal of names from a pot – fairly. He was, in fact, a good lord and a fair judge – a rarer bird than you might think, friends.
Cleisthenes and Stephanos hadn’t finished the two-stade final, as they’d ended up fighting on the sand. Stephanos said that the big aristocrat tripped him, and the lordling claimed the same. But they were still in the contest. They ran in the third heat – I think the judges felt that they hadn’t squandered the energy that Kalos and I had used up in the run. We ran together in the fourth heat, with another pair of Athenians and one of the Lesbian hoplites from our own ship. He ran well, too. He and Kalos and I led our pack, and Kalos was well ahead until the cairn and then he dropped back, his wine head stealing his chance for glory while the Lesbian nipped me for the victory. Epaphroditos was his name, and he couldn’t believe he’d won. I worked to be as gracious as the Athenian boy had been with me. It wasn’t easy. I hate to lose.
But I was still in the finals. They took place right away, and I was tired. There was quite a bit of jostling on the line, and I thought, Ares, there are four events to go, and I made the finals. I don’t need to win. All I need is to finish.
The lordling was in the race, but he wasn’t next to me, thank the gods. To start with, I ran easily, without any attempt at real speed. I was the last man off the line, except for another Chian who Cleisthenes tripped as we started. That boy was vicious.
I ran at a good lope to the cairn, and made the turn, still last, but in touch with the pack. Everyone was tired. It was my first games, and I had no idea how a real athlete hoards his strength. I knew my body, but I knew nothing of how to read the others.
We were halfway to the finish – the hoplitodromos is two stades, and good men sprint the whole way – when I realized that I had plenty of strength left in my legs and I had just passed one of the Athenians. So I grinned and put my helmeted head down and ran. I didn’t bother to look around, or back – until there was a blow to my shield and I realized I was running alongside Cleisthenes.
We were running shield to shield, and the Lesbian was a stride ahead, the horsehair on his helmet within easy reach. Cleisthenes punched at my shield again and grinned. He was a mean bastard.
Me, too.
I put my shield rim into his hips and he screamed and fell, and then it was just me and the Lesbian with fifty strides to go. We ran our guts out. He was faster.
I hugged him anyway. He had a great heart, that man. There aren’t many men who can say they beat me, but Epaphroditos was so happy that I couldn’t be angry.
‘This is the best day of my life!’ he said.
Then Cleisthenes came up and swung his shield at my head.
There was no warning, but a year of ducking Diomedes’ thugs had finally had its effect, and Stephanos shouted, and I ducked. The shield missed. Men rushed to pull us apart.
‘When we wrestle, I’ll dislocate your shoulder,’ he shouted. ‘And break your pelvis. By mistake!’ Every man on the beach heard him.
People like him have always raised the daimon in me. I said nothing, but I let him look me in the eye, and he didn’t like what he saw.
Then the lord was there. He slapped his grandson, and he ordered the big man to apologize to me. Cleisthenes refused.
Now that I had the attention of the whole beach, I leaned in towards Cleisthenes. ‘I’ve been a slave half my life,’ I said, so that every man heard me, ‘and my manners are better than yours. What does that make