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Paris had thought Red would know how to fight well, and yelled encouragement. His bull pawed the ground and forced his opponent into a slip-sliding retreat. The brown and white bull made a brief attempt to lunge back, but Red planted his hooves in the dirt, snorted and refused to move. Paris held his breath, hoping the fight would soon be over, and fearing something terrible might occur. When Oenone slipped through the crowd to reach his side, he whispered, "Do you ever use your herb cures on bulls?"
"What an interesting thought, but your bull is unlikely to need them."
Paris studied the length of her thick, dark eyelashes, and she caught him. "Why are you staring at me rather than the astonishing spectacle you've staged with your bull?"
He laughed and shook his head. "I see you so seldom, that's why."
"Whose fault is that?" she asked.
Before Paris could think of a coherent reply, the brown and white bull broke away and trotted to the far side of the ring, clearly surrendering the fight. The men surrounding the ring shouted and cheered, and those close enough slapped Agelaus on the back.
Agelaus raised his hands. "The bull belongs to Paris now. Congratulate him." He caught Edremus's eye and waved. "Bring the three cows to us tomorrow."
Several men eagerly offered a bull to fight, but Paris raised a hand to stop them. "Manyon has been promised the next challenge," he told them. "While we'll win again, I won't promise matches beyond that one."
Oenone handed him a wreath of wildflowers. "The winner deserves a crown."
"Thank you." Paris took it, letting his hand brush her palm. "I'll wait until Red's temper cools before I hang it from his horns and lead him home."
She nodded. "Undoubtedly a wise decision."
When she turned away, he reached for her arm. "I'm doing this for you."
"Why? Infuriated bulls don't impress me."
He leaned down to whisper, "Would a fine house and my own herd impress you?" he asked.
She responded with a slow smile and touched his cheek. "I'll wait until I see them."
He couldn't promise she wouldn't have a long wait, but the sweetness of her expression gave him hope it wouldn't matter.
* * *
Manyon's bull was as black as a moonless night and had an evil glint in his eye. "I don't like the look of him," Agelaus whispered.
"He may be all looks," Paris answered. They'd again arrived early so Red could enter the ring first and mark it as his territory. The black bull trotted right up to him, head lowered, and pawed the dirt.
Red dipped his head, butted the black bull with a powerful lunge and shoved so hard the black bull stumbled and went down on one knee. The men in the crowd gasped, but the dark bull quickly recovered to give a hearty push back of his own. Red snorted, pawed the ground, and hit the black bull again. They stomped, twisted their heads against each other and shoved with all their strength but neither bull gained any ground.
"We've a real fight this time," Manyon shouted.
Paris nodded, but he had every confidence Red would win. He imagined bulls viewed time differently, and could butt heads for days, but a short while later, the black bull turned away and trotted to the opposite side of the ring. The crowd stood silent for a moment, then those who'd backed Red began to laugh and shout. Paris hadn't seen Oenone that morning, and a little girl in her father's arms handed him a carefully woven flower crown. He thanked her, but again took the precaution of giving Red time to rest before they made the journey home.
* * *
Ares, the god of War, viewed the fight from a gold-lined cloud, highly amused by how easily Paris won with his red bull. Zeus thought the bouts only mildly diverting. "You simply don't find humans as entertaining as I do," Ares remarked, his dark eyes aglow with mischief. "I like the boy, but I wonder how he would react if his bull were to lose a match."
Zeus responded with a sly chuckle. "I'm sure you could arrange it."
"Of course, I could. What sort of a bull should I be? I'm thinking perhaps the shade of thick cream."
"The pale color would fool them into believing you would pose little threat."
"My thoughts exactly. I mustn't be too large, however, or Paris might refuse to allow his bull to battle me."
"Perhaps you should be on the small side."
"Yes! What a splendid idea. If I appear to be a bull of little consequence, my victory will be all the more surprising and sweet."
