Some of the men running on the track or grappling with one another in the sandy wrestling pits plainly didn't get to the gymnasion often enough. But others . . . Menedemos pointed. 'There's a pretty boy, fourteen or fifteen, and handsome enough to have his name scrawled on the walls.' His own name had gone up on more than a few walls when he was that age; Sostratos', he remembered rather too late, hadn't. All his cousin said now, though, was, 'Yes, and doesn't he know it? If he sticks his nose any higher in the air, he'll get a crick in the neck.' 'When you look like that, you can get away with a few airs,' Menedemos said. Sostratos only grunted. They ran a few sprints to loosen up. Menedemos savored the feel of the breeze against his skin, the grass at the verge of the track flying by as he strained to get every bit of speed from himself he could. He also savored leaving Sostratos in his wake, hearing his cousin's panting breath fade behind him time after time. 'You're a pentekonter, sure enough,' Sostratos said. 'Me, I'm just a round ship.' Menedemos' turn of speed drew the notice of a fellow a couple of years younger than he who also had the lean, muscular build of a runner. 'Try yourself against me?' the younger man said. 'I'm Amyntas son of Praxion.' 'Pleased to meet you.' Menedemos gave his own name, and introduced Sostratos, too. 'I'd be pleased to run with you. My cousin will call the start.' 'Good enough,' Amyntas said. 'Would you care to put a drakhma on the race, just to make it interesting?' 'Interesting, eh?' Menedemos raised an eyebrow. 'All right, if it pleases you. Sostratos, turn us loose.' He took his position on the track beside Amyntas. 'Ready?' Sostratos called. 'Set.' Both runners tensed. 'Go!' Amyntas went off like an arrow from a bow. Menedemos stayed shoulder to shoulder with him till they were within twenty-five or thirty cubits of the end of the stadion course, but Amyntas pulled away and won by five cubits or so. 'I can do better than that,' Menedemos said. 'Try it again, double the stake to the winner?' 'Why not?' Amyntas said, not quite hiding a predatory smile as they walked back to the beginning of the course. Several men gathered to watch them now. Menedemos wondered if Sostratos would give him a fishy stare for gambling on his legs. But his cousin only shrugged and called the start again. He's probably glad not to be running himself, Menedemos thought, leaning forward to get the best start he could. 'Go!' Sostratos said, and Menedemos and Amyntas shot away once more. Again, Menedemos stayed close to the younger man till the race was almost over. Again, he couldn't quite keep up at the end. Again, he kicked at the dirt in frustration. 'That's two drakhmai you owe me,' Amyntas said, not bothering to hide his grin now that he'd won.
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