"Why are you taking your armor off," Azeus asked Heracles
"Don't ask. All the ancient honor. Fighting in the nude assures that there will be no tricks,"Abderus explained.
"Should we remove our clothes too," Azeus asked confused about the entire situation.
He had not watched the Olympic Games where men competed in the same manner. He had spent the time with King Phyleus instead. He would have learned about the tradition, instead he would watch as Heracles and Diomedes did battle. The two rushed at each other, locking their arms in an attempt to throw one another. Diomedes was a man who could match Heracles in strength and stature. This would not be a quick fight.
Their feat ground into the dirt as the two bulls locked horns. Diomedes was the first to act, with the same treachery as his father. He released his hold, causing Heracles to slip in the dirt. Diomedes took the opportunity to land a ferocious right hand across Heracles face, knocking him to the dirt. Heracles laughed and let out a boisterous laugh. He wouldn't have hold back here.
Diomedes was strong, his father was Ares, he had been trained for war. He had been trained with one simple honor. The idea that there was only honor in defeating your opponent, no matter how it was done. Heracles was viewed as a brute by many, simply large and strong. Still, he had studied poetry, music and art. He was a firm believer in Zeus' idea of honor. Do it fairly, and if your opponent will not oblige, adapt and do not complain.
"The horses will eat your people," Diomedes laughed as they locked up again.
"If they are not yet full on your soldiers, they will dine on your flesh," Heracles responded.
Heracles released his grip on Diomedes shoulders, instead opting to grip him at the waist. Another bear hug. Heracles' favorite way to end a wrestling match. He would squeeze the air from Diomedes lungs. No matter how long it took, he would not release his grip. Diomedes screamed in pain, clawing at Heracles naked flesh to no avail. When the screams were calm Heracles lifted Diomedes to slam him on his head.
The King would not go that quietly. Sensing the end is near he clawed at Heracles' flesh again. Searching for a weakness, and he found it. A handful of fleshy and sensitive genitalia. Heracles cried out as the strength of another Demi-God attempted to rip his branch from it's tree. Their cries echoed, matched in pain. Heracles could not lift Diomedes any higher at risk to his own body. He slammed the king on his head. The screams did not stop, again he slammed him. With the third slam Diomedes fell quiet. Heracles screamed until Diomedes released his grip, only in death. King Diomedes had bad Heracles strongest opponent thus far, but it was not strength that made him formidable. It was the craftiness, the willingness to make his own rules and cause a pain that would not be forgotten.
"Feed the king to his damned horses," Heracles called to Azeus and Abderus from the ground.
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