his breath. He trips in the street and runs from trouble. Many good-byes to him! 'Whoresons!' Alexidamos shouted again. 'Abandoned catamites!' Aristeidas looked ready to take to his heels as the furious mercenary charged across the agora. So, for that matter, did Menedemos. Sostratos' cousin was a formidable sprinter in his own right. I wish I were, Sostratos thought. But if I run, he'll catch me from behind. What man wants his death-wound in the back? Sostratos didn't want his death-wound at all. Since running would do him no good, he stooped, plucked a stone from the mud, and flung it at Alexidamos with all his strength. Had he missed, things would have gone hard for him - something he paused to think about only later. But, by then, Alexidamos was only three or four strides away; Sostratos had nearly waited too long to do anything at all. The stone struck the mercenary right in the nose. The wet splat made Sostratos' stomach lurch. Blood splashed as Alexidamos' nose, already kinked by a scar, flattened and smashed. Alexidamos gave a great bellow of pain. He kept coming, but his hands - including the one with the sword - went to his face. Menedemos jumped on him. Sostratos grabbed at his right arm and twisted the blade away from him. Aristeidas added his weight to the struggle. The three of them quickly subdued the mercenary. As Sostratos helped hold Alexidamos down, he listened to the chatter of the Kallipolitans all around. 'Should we seize them?' somebody asked. 'I don't see what for,' someone else said. 'They were only defending themselves. He attacked them for no reason I could see.' The mutter of agreement that rose relieved Sostratos in no small measure. A third local said, 'If the soldier thinks they wronged him, better he should take them to law than slice them up.' That produced more mutters of agreement. The fellow added, 'He must think he's an Italian or a wild Kelt, to act the way he did.' Menedemos distracted Sostratos, saying, 'I didn't know you could throw so straight.' 'Neither did I,' Sostratos answered, which made Menedemos laugh. Sostratos went on, 'I did what I had to do. Out of necessity, throwing' - aparaphrase of Homer's out of necessity, fleeing. 'I understand.' By his smile, Menedemos caught the allusion as well as the truth behind it. 'Grab this lovely fellow's sword, Aristeidas. We don't want him getting his hands on it again.' 'We sure don't,' the lookout agreed. 'But he'll never be lovely again, not with his nose looking like a beet you just stepped on.' 'Too bad.' Sostratos and Menedemos spoke together. Menedemos added, 'Where did that cowardly wretch of a Teleutas disappear to? By the gods, I ought to pitch him off the ship.' Before Sostratos could answer that, there was a commotion in a nearby street. Teleutas reappeared in the agora, at the head of a dozen sailors carrying assorted implements of mayhem. When he paused to look around and find out what had happened, the
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