"From what you say, Statianus was genuine. Not behaving like a man who had killed her?'
"No chance. He couldn't believe what had happened.'
That was interesting, though the unforced evidence of slaves would not count in a law court. I tried to elicit names of any palaestra members who might have been suspect, but the slaves abruptly lost interest and started drifting back to their work.
We should have left. You never do. You always hope one last cunning question will produce a breakthrough. You never learn.
Then I heard a gasp. I turned around, and my heart lurched. An enormous man had arrived without me noticing and grabbed Cornelius. Now he was squeezing all the breath out of the boy.
XVII
The huge wrestler was waiting for me to turn and see it happening. Now the muscle-bound child-crusher lifted my nephew above his shaved head, intending to hurl him to the ground. On hard, damp sand, it could be fatal.
The brute paused, leering.
He was in his mid-twenties, his absolute prime. Solid waist, huge calves, astounding thighs, monumental shoulders. Apart from a leather skullcap and boxing thongs, he was stark naked. His fabulous body was covered with olive oil – there was so much I could smell it – over which he had applied a thick layer of grey dust.
There was a wrestler, once, who stepped into the high road and stopped a chariot going at full pelt. This man could do that. He could stop the traffic one-handed, while eating a bread roll. Milo of Croton used to stand on a discus, holding up a pomegranate and defying all comers to remove the fruit from him. Only his girlfriend could do it, but she must have known where he was ticklish. Oh for a willowy wench with sensual hands who could give a therapeutic massage!
"Put the child down and let's talk!' Greek wrestlers do not talk. They glare, circle, grasp opponents in rib-cracking clinches, then slog away without time limits, until one hulk has thrown the other three times to the floor. Or until one is so badly hurt he cannot continue, Or, even better, one is dead.
The wrestler shook Cornelius, to make me even more anxious.
"He's a boy. He's not in your age class. Obey the rules!' My pleas were desperate. Held up at arms' length, with one mighty fist around both his ankles and another gripping the scruff of his neck, Cornelius was ashen, too terrified to whimper. "Put him down. He's done nothing. I understand what's going on – someone does not like my investigation and you've been sent to dissuade me. So put down the boy and murder me instead.'
The giant let out a bloodcurdling cry, a part of his act. He bent his
arms suddenly, elbows wide, as if about to hurl Cornelius across the skamma. The watching slaves stepped back nervously. From facing sky up to heading sand down, my nephew swung over like a rag, his chubby arms dangling. One free hand balled into a fist as if it was intentional and clocked the wrestler in the eye. The giant shook his head as if a wine-fly had flown at his lashes – but then, as you do, he just had to brush his eye with the back of his wrist, so he let go of Cornelius.
I leapt and captured the boy as he fell. To me, he was damned heavy. I managed to drop him to the ground fairly gently, though I wrenched my back. Then the wrestler knocked me flat. I sprawled on the sand; one-handed, I somehow shoved Cornelius out of danger. The wrestler kicked me away from him; I fell full length, eating sand.
Next the giant pulled me upright by one arm, looking disdainful. Neatly, he arranged the arm behind my back, paying attention to inflicting pain. I jumped around and struggled to position one leg behind his. To know the move was useless; he was six foot three and with my weight I could not budge his trunk-like calves. He held his stance, while I manoeuvred helplessly. He was playing with me. If he had been ready to finish me, I would be feeling his fists. Those fists were bound with hard rawhide, the heavy thongs extending up his forearms; bands of fleece allowed him to wipe away sweat, though he had shed none yet. Barely exerting himself, he bent me forwards like a girl folding up a blanket.
Then, with a sudden growl of annoyance, he tossed me on to the sand. Ideally I would have pulled him over with me. No chance. Arching my back in recovery, I saw that Cornelius had attached himself to the giant's left foot; the boy was bending the man's great toes backwards with all his might. The furious wrestler twisted, as he kicked out to shake Cornelius off. I threw myself into the fray again, this time attempting a headlock from behind. It was like wrapping an arm around a half-submerged pile on a waterfront and trying to strangle solid oak. I did my best to throttle him with one hand, while punching him in the ear. I doubt if he even felt it. The punch was legal in Greek boxing and pankration. He just shrugged me off his neck dismissively and brought me around within reach. Then he grabbed me in a ghastly hug and turned me upside down.
He rammed me to the floor, straight on my head. I managed to put an arm out, lessening the impact. I took the force on my neck and
shoulder, but had no chance to re-engage. I was now at his mercy, yet the death blows never came.
"Falco!'
Assistance had arrived. Young Glaucus. He must have followed us down here – though he might be about to regret it. Despite our friend's mighty build, the giant wrestler was half as big again. When I struggled to a sitting position, they were squaring up. The giant bared his gums in a hideous grimace. He flared his nostrils. He produced a hideous grinning stare. His chest swelled. His biceps bulged. I had been a mere diversion; attacking Glaucus would be a real treat for him.
Our normally cautious Glaucus had to accept the challenge. Deliberately he drew off his tunic and threw it to me; he stood naked and proud, without oil and dust, but ready to fight. The giant gave him time to grasp a set of thongs from bunches hanging on the palaestra wall; Cornelius scrambled to help bind them on. All I could hear in my head was our friend's reply when Gaius had asked whether he could do this. 'Not really.'
Oh Hades.
"Glaucus.' As he tightened the thongs, he introduced himself with a peremptory sneer.
"Milo.'
"Milo of CrotonI exclaimed Glaucus, betrayed into excitement.
"Milo of Dodona.' The giant enjoyed having fooled him.
"Oh!'
I was less surprised than Glaucus. It was not the first time I had met a modern hulk named after the six-times Olympic champion.
The fight began. Wrestling theorists will maintain that lighter, speedier men can use skill to outwit the heavies. A flyweight, they say, can nip in, kick away an ankle, and bring down a man-mountain… Sensible spectators do not bet on it. Glaucus knew that if this monster crushed him in a hug, it would be fatal. That must have been why Glaucus cheated.
They made a couple of feints matter-of-factly. They circled, scuffing sand like fighting bulls. The giant grunted, his slow brain deciding when he would let rip and smother Glaucus in a deadly embrace. Glaucus did not wait. He stooped, swiftly scooped up sand, and threw it in the giant's eyes. As his opponent roared and his eyes streamed, Glaucus then kicked him – with an admirable right-footed wrestling kick – full in his ostentatiously heavyweight testes.
Then Glaucus grabbed Cornelius and me and pulled us right across the skamma to the nearest exit.
"The sprint is my speciality. Now let's run for our lives!'
XVIII
We came out into the big gymnasium, where for a brief, foolish moment we caught our breath after the shock. Glaucus met my eye. For once he showed a sense of humour. "Never be afraid of risk – but always know your limits!'
"Why can I hear your father's voice in that?'
We had a head start – but we had run the wrong way. Pain was Milo of Dodona's everyday stimulus; behind, we heard the monster bellow as he came after us. Glaucus pushed the boy and me ahead of him, as he stayed behind on diversion duty. I shepherded Cornelius, wishing we were out in the sanctuary where there might be some Greek city's treasury into which I could shove the puffing roly-poly child to be kept safe among the spoils of war. That's life; never a treasury when you want one…