The contest took more than an hour and by the end the men were cheering the finalists as they circled one another, blocking with shields, lunging, parrying. Theo had won his first two bouts, but had been beaten on the third. Achillas
had reached the last four, but had lost to Damoras who now fought Petar, a man from Theo’s area in the north of Pelagonia. Damoras was stronger but Petar, the shorter man, had greater speed and his wooden blade cracked against Damoras’ skull, causing his opponent to stagger. ‘Killing blow!’ shouted Parmenion. Petar dropped shield and sword and punched the air with delight, taking his badge from Parmenion and holding it up for his friends to see.
‘Now, gentlemen,’ said Parmenion, ‘for a little amusement. Pair off with the first man you fought.’ As the warriors shuffled into place the Spartan lifted two badges from the box. ‘You will run five laps of the field, carrying your partner on your back. You may choose when to carry, or be carried. But the first pair to return here will receive a badge each.’
Theo found himself paired with a slender man from Lyncos. There was little chance of the warrior being able to carry him at speed, so Theo offered to do the carrying. The man leapt to his back.
‘When you are ready!’ yelled the Spartan. ‘Go!’
The fifty pairs set off. Theo, his powerful legs pumping hard, took an early lead; but before half a lap he felt himself losing strength. Gritting his teeth he struggled on, being passed by several pairs. On the second lap he had to stop. The slender warrior tried manfully to keep up with the pack, but under Theo’s formidable weight he stumbled and fell. Theo had regained his breath. The problem was trying to run while holding his partner’s legs in place. Pushing the man in front of him he ducked down, lifting the warrior to his shoulders. The man hooked his legs behind Theo’s back and the huge Macedonian set off in pursuit of the pack. There was no question now of changing places and Theo did not try to sprint. Conserving as much of his strength as possible for the final lap he slowly reeled in the leaders. By the final circuit Theo was third. The second pair stumbled and fell, leaving him chasing Achillas and his partner.
Achillas was tiring as Theo came up behind. The man Achillas was carrying glanced back, and shouted to his
partner to put in an extra effort. But Achillas was finished; he dropped his partner and ran around to change places. It was all Theo needed. Putting in a last desperate push, he reached the finish two paces ahead of the second pair.
Parmenion stepped forward with the victors’ badges, but the young warrior with Theo refused.
‘I did not earn it,’ he said.
‘What is your name, lad?’ asked the Spartan.
‘Gaelan.’
‘What shall I do with the badge, Gaelan?’
‘Give them both to my partner. He did all the work.’
‘And what do you say?’ Parmenion asked Theo.
Theo put his arm around Gaelan’s shoulder. ‘We were a team.’ He took the badge from Parmenion and pressed it into Gaelan’s hand. ‘We won as a team and will share the prize.
‘Good,’ said the Spartan. ‘A fine way to end a morning’s work. Go away and eat. Return in two hours, when the final badges will be won.’
*
As Parmenion sat alone at the training field, drinking water and eating a simple meal of figs and fruit, the King rode up with two of his officers.
‘How goes it, strategos?’ Philip asked.
Parmenion rose and bowed. ‘There are some with promise,’ he said. ‘But we shall see.’ He strode forward, rubbing his hand down the chest of the King’s horse. ‘A good animal – fine lungs and strong legs.’
‘A Thracian sire and a Macedonian dam,’ Philip told him, patting the stallion’s neck. ‘But he’s young yet; he’ll learn. Will you sell me your stallion? He would make a magnificent breeder.’
Parmenion laughed. ‘I’ll not sell him – but you are free to put him in with your mares. I daresay he will enjoy the experience.’