shaking me awake. I opened my eyes and was startled to see a stranger with an eye-patch and a lumpy nose crouching beside me—then realized it was Antipater.
"Teacher! Are you all right?"
"Of course I am. And you, Gordianus? Could you not sleep inside the tent?"
By the soft light of dawn, people all around were waking and stirring. In starts and stops, for I was not yet fully awake, I tried to explain to him what I had overheard during the night.
Antipater was silent for a long moment, then shook his head. “It was a dream, Gordianus. What you heard were voices from a dream."
I shook my head. “No, Teacher, I was wide awake—as awake as I am right now."
He raised an eyebrow. “Which is still half asleep, I think. Perhaps you heard something, yes, but I'm sure you misunderstood."
"No, Teacher, I'm absolutely certain. . . ."
But was I? The day before, I had been certain that Zeus was about to speak to me, and that had been an illusion. Suddenly the events of the night seemed murky and unreal. “But where were you last night, Teacher? Where did you go?"
He smiled. “It was too hot and stuffy inside the tent for me to sleep. Like you, I found a spot outdoors and slept like a stone. Now wake up, sleepyhead! Come with me and we'll have a bite to eat in our host's pavilion."
"Are you mad? They may poison you!"
"Gordianus, your fears are groundless, I assure you. But if you wish, we can purchase our breakfast from some vendor on our way to the Bouleuterion."
"The what?"
"The building in which the athletes will take their solemn oath. They must all promise, before a statue of Zeus clutching thunderbolts, to compete fairly, obey the judges, accept no bribes, and foreswear the use of magic. They do so in small groups, then come out to be greeted by the crowd. It's a wonderful chance to see all the athletes at close quarters."
"Didn't we already see them all yesterday, in the procession?"
Antipater rolled his eyes, then without another word he stood up and headed off. I followed, stumbling a bit, for my limbs were still heavy with sleep.
Outside the Bouleuterion, a crowd had already gathered, but something was amiss. No sooner had we arrived than a complete stranger turned to Antipater and asked, “Is it true, what people are saying?"
"What is that?"
"That Protophanes of Magnesia won't be allowed to take the oath this morning—which means he won't be able to compete in the pankration!"
"But why not?"
"Because he laid hands on that Cynic yesterday. Had Protophanes not touched the old fool, there'd have been no problem. But because he manhandled the fellow, and because it happened on the Altis enclosure wall, the judges think Protophanes may have broken some sacred law or other."
"It's ridiculous!” said another man. “Protophanes only did what we all wanted to do."
"But he shouldn't have touched the philosopher,” said another, piously wagging his forefinger.
"They say it may all be up to Simmius the Cynic,” said another.
"How's that?” said Antipater.
"It seems that none of the judges actually saw what happened—they were too far ahead and didn't look back in time. So they've called on Simmius to testify. If he shows up this morning and declares that Protophanes laid hands on him atop the Altis wall, then it's all up for Protophanes. Four years of training and his chance for fame and glory—gone like a puff of smoke! And all because of a technicality."
"And if the Cynic doesn't show up?” said Antipater.
"Then perhaps Protophanes can take the oath after all. I doubt that any of the other athletes will testify against him, and nor will any of the spectators."
There was a sudden commotion. The crowd parted for Protophanes, who was coming through, dressed in a modest chiton. Men cheered and clapped. Some rushed forward to give him a supportive pat on the shoulder. The young man, who had been so exuberant the previous day, showed a very different face this morning. Looking grim but determined,
"Teacher! Are you all right?"
"Of course I am. And you, Gordianus? Could you not sleep inside the tent?"
By the soft light of dawn, people all around were waking and stirring. In starts and stops, for I was not yet fully awake, I tried to explain to him what I had overheard during the night.
Antipater was silent for a long moment, then shook his head. “It was a dream, Gordianus. What you heard were voices from a dream."
I shook my head. “No, Teacher, I was wide awake—as awake as I am right now."
He raised an eyebrow. “Which is still half asleep, I think. Perhaps you heard something, yes, but I'm sure you misunderstood."
"No, Teacher, I'm absolutely certain. . . ."
But was I? The day before, I had been certain that Zeus was about to speak to me, and that had been an illusion. Suddenly the events of the night seemed murky and unreal. “But where were you last night, Teacher? Where did you go?"
He smiled. “It was too hot and stuffy inside the tent for me to sleep. Like you, I found a spot outdoors and slept like a stone. Now wake up, sleepyhead! Come with me and we'll have a bite to eat in our host's pavilion."
"Are you mad? They may poison you!"
"Gordianus, your fears are groundless, I assure you. But if you wish, we can purchase our breakfast from some vendor on our way to the Bouleuterion."
"The what?"
"The building in which the athletes will take their solemn oath. They must all promise, before a statue of Zeus clutching thunderbolts, to compete fairly, obey the judges, accept no bribes, and foreswear the use of magic. They do so in small groups, then come out to be greeted by the crowd. It's a wonderful chance to see all the athletes at close quarters."
"Didn't we already see them all yesterday, in the procession?"
Antipater rolled his eyes, then without another word he stood up and headed off. I followed, stumbling a bit, for my limbs were still heavy with sleep.
Outside the Bouleuterion, a crowd had already gathered, but something was amiss. No sooner had we arrived than a complete stranger turned to Antipater and asked, “Is it true, what people are saying?"
"What is that?"
"That Protophanes of Magnesia won't be allowed to take the oath this morning—which means he won't be able to compete in the pankration!"
"But why not?"
"Because he laid hands on that Cynic yesterday. Had Protophanes not touched the old fool, there'd have been no problem. But because he manhandled the fellow, and because it happened on the Altis enclosure wall, the judges think Protophanes may have broken some sacred law or other."
"It's ridiculous!” said another man. “Protophanes only did what we all wanted to do."
"But he shouldn't have touched the philosopher,” said another, piously wagging his forefinger.
"They say it may all be up to Simmius the Cynic,” said another.
"How's that?” said Antipater.
"It seems that none of the judges actually saw what happened—they were too far ahead and didn't look back in time. So they've called on Simmius to testify. If he shows up this morning and declares that Protophanes laid hands on him atop the Altis wall, then it's all up for Protophanes. Four years of training and his chance for fame and glory—gone like a puff of smoke! And all because of a technicality."
"And if the Cynic doesn't show up?” said Antipater.
"Then perhaps Protophanes can take the oath after all. I doubt that any of the other athletes will testify against him, and nor will any of the spectators."
There was a sudden commotion. The crowd parted for Protophanes, who was coming through, dressed in a modest chiton. Men cheered and clapped. Some rushed forward to give him a supportive pat on the shoulder. The young man, who had been so exuberant the previous day, showed a very different face this morning. Looking grim but determined,
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