Ottonius was as tall as Miros, but he was as blond and fair-skinned as Miros was dark. Miros had seen Ottonius pin his opponents in four other matches, and he knew the young man was skillful. But he also knew that he was stronger than Ottonius and faster and that he took better care of his body. What had Plinates said? That Miros wasn't ready? Not ready? He could pin a hundred like Ottonius this day.

Ottonius sneered at Miros and the older man wondered if Ottonius knew what Miros had been asked

6

to do. Then he saw Ottonius glance down toward Miros's dark and heavy genitals, and decided Ottonius knew nothing, either about Plinates' demand or about genitals. If genital heft were the measure of a wrestler, then surely the bull of the fields would be the greatest wrestler of all.

The audience quieted as the referee signalled time and the two naked wrestlers moved warily toward each other in the center of the twenty-foot square. As they circled, Miros saw that Ottonius moved improperly to his right. The blond man stayed classically high on his toes, but when he moved to his right, he put too much of his weight on that foot and came down off his toes. It was not much but it was enough.

The two wrestlers came together and locked hands. Miros took two steps to his right, forcing Ottonius to circle to his right to keep facing his opponent. Miros felt Ottonius's steps. One. Two. Just as Ottonius planted his weight again on his right foot, Miros threw his own weight back to the left, fell onto his back, planted his right foot in Ottonius's belly and tossed the big blond up in the air, over his head. Ottonius landed on his back with a thump. Dust exploded in the air as his body hit. Before he had a chance to scramble to his feet, Miros was on him. He wrapped his arms around the blond man's neck.