Over the Wine Dark Sea

'You'll win it back.' Menedemos was willing to let him down easy. 'Who knows? You may even use the same trick yourself one of these days.'   'Why, so I may.' Amyntas sounded surprised, as if that hadn't crossed his mind. Maybe it hadn't. Menedemos sighed. Amyntas didn't notice, as he hadn't noticed Menedemos holding back. Sostratos did, and contrived to look amused without smiling.   Having paid what he owed, Amyntas hurried away, as if afraid Menedemos would inveigle him into some other contest he was bound to lose. Menedemos turned back to Sostratos. 'Want to wrestle?'   'Not especially,' Sostratos answered. Menedemos' face must have fallen, for his cousin went on, 'But I will, at least for a little while.'   They dusted their arms and torsos with sand, to aid in getting a grip. Then they stood face to face, waiting. 'Ready?' Sostratos asked. Menedemos dipped his head. Sostratos sprang at him. They grappled, grunting and heaving, each straining to throw the other off his feet. Sostratos' height did him no good in wrestling. If anything, the compact Menedemos had the advantage there, being closer to the ground. He got Sostratos on his hip, twisted lithely, and threw him down.   'Oof!' Sostratos said; he'd landed pretty hard. He was rubbing his right buttock as he rose. 'I'm going to be sore about sitting down for the next couple of days.'   'You made me work for it,' Menedemos said. He did mean it; he often won a fall from Sostratos much more easily than he had there. And he wanted to keep him wrestling, too.   Before he could ask for another fall, his cousin said, 'Shall we try it again?'   'Yes, if you like.' Menedemos tried to hide his surprise. He couldn't remember the last time Sostratos had proposed such a thing. They squared off and grabbed each other, as they had before. Indeed, the second bout went very much as the first one had, right up to Sostratos' mistake. As Menedemos slid in to take advantage of it, he wondered if his cousin would ever learn.   He got his answer sooner than he expected. Instead of going up on his hip and then down in the dirt, Sostratos kept one of his long legs on the ground. Before Menedemos quite realized what had happened, his cousin had got round behind him, slipped an ankle in front, and shoved hard. Next thing he knew, he sprawled in the dirt himself.   He spat some out of his mouth, then said, 'Well, well,' as he got to his feet. Sostratos' face wore a grin as wide as that of a child with a toy chariot or a hetaira with a new gold necklace. He didn't throw Menedemos very often. Menedemos bowed, giving him credit for it. 'Very nice. I thought I had you again, but I was wrong.'   'I was hoping you would make the same move twice,' Sostratos said. 'I tried to steer you into it, the way you held back with that fellow who thought he was fast.'   'Did you?' Menedemos said, and Sostratos delightedly dipped his head. Menedemos clicked his tongue between his teeth. He tasted more dirt, and spat again. 'I'm never going to be able to trust you any more, am I?'   'I hope not,' Sostratos told him.