The silence of concentrated effort was interrupted by the sound of galloping hoof beats. The boys’ heads came up from their split stretch. Constantine could see what appeared to be the silhouette of his father, accompanied by two guards, halting their horses outside the villa. He blocked out the thought and forced himself to concentrate on the lesson. To foul up once would cause him to lose his position as stretch leader.

"Constantine, Anicius, front and center!"

The rest of the group returned to their previous positions around the outside of the pit. Constantine closed his eyes as his good friend positioned himself for the attack.

"Go," commanded Alexander suddenly. Anicius lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Constantine’s, and pinning them against his own ribs. Constantine inhaled deeply while they struggled, and then exhaled abruptly, relaxing his entire torso in the process. Anicius’s hold was loosened, allowing Constantine to hook his right arm under his opponent’s armpit. He pivoted, locked his legs, and hurled his good friend’s body over like a bronze tray falling on a marble floor. Dust sprang from the ground as the young boy’s limp body crashed onto the warm sand. It was too late for him. Constantine’s knee was already pressed on his throat by the time he realized what had happened. The group cheered.

"Very good. Constantine, stay here. Anicius, take a seat."

His next opponent entered the pit. Diophantus was a twelve-year-old boy who looked fifteen. This was Constantine’s biggest challenge yet. As Constantine closed his eyes, his opponent positioned himself.

"Go!"

The boy kicked at Constantine’s solar plexus. He brushed the attack away with a parry, leaving his opponent off balance and vulnerable. He hesitated, and his opponent continued the attack with a punch to the ribs, followed by a leg tackle. Constantine fell as a result. The boy crawled up as if to mount him, but Constantine clasped his opponent’s arm, placed it between his legs and over his hip, almost breaking the arm. The boy slapped the ground in pain. Constantine let go victorious.

"Good counter attack. But what went wrong on Constantine’s part?"

The group said nothing; they felt that Constantine had executed a drilled technique perfectly.