Contenders
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2024 by Walter Reimer

Prompt: mangle


The crowd’s roaring and chanting came to the boar only dimly, vainly trying to get through the beating of his own heart and the roaring of his blood in his ears. The sun bore down on him like a physical weight, and he blinked back sweat and blood as the liquids trickled into his one good eye. The other eye was swollen shut.

One of his tusks was broken, shattered by his opponent’s heel, and he was missing a few teeth from that blow and several others where the rabbit had struck him. The boar drew breath painfully, feeling his broken ribs shift.

His right arm hung limp, dislocated at the shoulder.

The referee stepped between the boar and the rabbit. “Epithemes of Acraga,” the lion said, “do you submit?” The lion kept an eye on the opponent, Coragus of Plataea, as he asked.

Epithemes used his left paw to wipe the blood from his good eye, looking past the referee. The rabbit, Coragus, was in much the same condition as the boar was. His face was bloody, one ear hanging loose, and he limped, favoring his left leg.

By way of reply, the boar reached across his body with his left paw and, with a convulsive wrench that drew a grunt from him, he yanked his right arm back into alignment. “I will not submit,” he said, hearing more clearly and realizing that the crowd was chanting his name.

The rabbit looked crestfallen at Epithemes’ words and his bare feet scraped across the sand as he positioned himself facing the boar, upper body slightly turned at the waist and paws raised at nearly eye level. “You’re a worthy opponent,” Coragus said.

“You kick well,” Epithemes said, adopting the same stance. The referee stepped back and the crowd roared as the rabbit charged, pivoted on his good foot and aimed a sweeping kick at the boar’s already injured side.

Epithemes dodged, a slight turn, and he used his injured and weakened arm to trap the rabbit’s foot in his paw. He stepped in quickly and slammed a fist into Coragus’s balls, a move that merited a line of fire across his back from the switch in the referee’s paw. While it wasn’t a severe foul, like biting or eye-gouging, striking the opponent’s genitals was considered poor form.

Not that the boar cared at this point. He was hurt and he knew it; the only thing he could do was try to end the contest swiftly. Still pinning the rabbit’s leg, he twisted, one trotter sweeping Coragus’s foot from under him and taking them to the ground.

There they began to grapple, seeking an advantage, a joint-lock or hold that could give them an advantage and force a submission. Epithemes felt a strong paw clamp on his throat, and as he tried to wriggle free the roaring of blood in his ears grew like Zeus’ thunder.

Crack! Coragus howled as Epithemes succeeded in breaking one of his ankles, and the rabbit raised his right index finger in submission.

The crowd went wild as the referee declared Epithemes of Acraga the winner of the pankration, but everything went quiet as the referee raised the boar’s paw to acclaim him, only to gasp as the paw fell limply to the ground. The lion knelt and put his ear to the boar’s chest, then sat back on his haunches and shook his head.

Coragus’s seconds helped him up and carried him from the skamma as the laurel wreath of victory was placed on Epithemes’ brow. The corpse of the boar would be cleaned and arrayed in fine cloth before being transported back to his home.

Recovering their enthusiasm, the crowd cheered as the next two contestants stepped into the fighting pit and the games went on.


end