Alexander lay in the dust for the second time. He was dirty, winded and exhausted. He had a multitude of cuts and bruises from the last fall to add to those on his knees and the heels of his hands. They started to sting where the salty sand and dirt rubbed into the grazes there. He felt completely spent as the adrenaline left him, his muscles aching and the scrapes and bruises from his multiple impacts at the turning post and the finish line started to sing a chorus of pain around his body. He decided to stay where he was for the time being, thinking that movement would only make him hurt more. He rolled over onto his back and watched as Nicanos and Methiodos shouted angrily at Davos. The Samian was surrounded by his comrades who were fending off the Athenians, everyone waving their arms expansively to ma...

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