(The Village Leader is putting down a lynching by an ignorant lout named Rhig’mos.)

Approaching Rhig’mos at the languorous pace of a father-of-the-bride escorting his daughter to the altar, the Village Leader slowly drew a dagger from his belt.  He raised it shoulder high, in a downward thrusting position.  The companions on either side of Rhig’mos edged away from him.

The man’s eyes shifted back and forth between the blade and the Leader’s eyes.  The Leader’s face was a blank.  Taking a half-step back, Rhig’mos bent slightly at the knees.  Barring a perfect throw, casting his stone would do him no good.  So he adjusted his grip on his rock and raised it in the same downward posture as the Leader’s dagger, one end of the rock protruding outward.  By the man’s expression, Homeros could tell he was feverishly contemplating the values of his pride versus his life.

The Leader’s passivity kept Rhig’mos off balance.  When the Village Leader was two steps away, the man glanced again at the blade.  Instantly the Leader took a step forward, twitched the dagger to rivet the man’s eyes on it, then flung up his left boot below the man’s chitoniskos and into his testicles.  Grunting, the man fell forward onto his knees, grasping his privates, then belly-flopped into the dirt.

Without altering his blank expression, the Village Leader turned to the others and asked, “Any further discussion?”

There wasn’t.