Quiet and still I stood. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see my sister, biting her lip as she stared hard at me. I chose not to return her look, because I did not want to break my concentration. Instead I cleared my mind of everything except the thought of winning for the second time the Min competition. I had done it before; I was not much older and I was just as fit as before; I could do it again.

Earlier I had met the other competitors when the High Priest had checked that we had had nothing to eat or drink, and that we were ritually unblemished. There were two others from Gebtu. One was the Greek merchant's assistant; the other the son of a copper artisan. There were two from the city of Gesy, twin brothers by the look of them. I wasn't sure what they did for a living. The other three contestants, for there were eight of us in total, were all country men, field hands and cattlemen from various villages in the nome.

Of all my rivals, I had my attention most fixed on the one called Shera, the copper worker's son. He was around my age, and clearly very fit and strong judging by the grip of his hand when we met. By the way he looked me up and down, I had the feeling that he regarded me in turn as his most dangerous rival. As the gods would have it, he had been placed at the rope directly opposite mine, six hundred paces away.

I heard the High Priest calling and I tensed, going into a half- crouch. And then I heard THREE ! and I was away, like a desert jackal after a wild hare. My feet dug into the hard-baked earth   as I sprinted for my rope, grabbed it with both hands, and started to haul myself upwards.

Up, up, ever up. It was harder than I remembered. The rope had been well-greased, and I needed all the strength I possessed to pull my body-weight upwards. There was time only for the shortest prayer to Min for his help, and then I need to save  my breath for dragging the air into my lungs. My arms were beginning to ache badly. Two handholds up, and a slight slide back when I came across an especially greasy patch of rope. I twisted the rope between my legs, and locked the soles of my feet together to help support my weight, and gritting my teeth, kept hauling upwards and upwards.

I could hear the crowd screaming then, but it was not in approval or encouragement. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed rather than saw, one of the village entrants lose traction and begin to slide down the rope. His hands must have burned, and the pain forced him to let the rope go. Down he fell, twisting over backwards, falling, falling, to the ground below. I imagined I could feel the impact.

That could have been me, I thought. Focus ! Concentrate ! Not long to go. And then I saw the edge of the platform at the upper edge of my vision. I was nearly there, but was I the first ? Was the the god's icon still there, or had someone else reached it already ? Lungs burning, I made one extra effort as the sweat poured down my face and ran into my eyes. But I couldn't stop to wipe them. On ! On ! And I reached the platform, gripped it with my left hand while my legs supported me on the rope, grabbed out with my right hand for the god's icon.....and seized it at exactly at the same moment as Shera !

Our eyes locked. Two hunters, seizing the same prey at the same instant. Neither of us, clearly, would let go, and we hung on there, eyes glaring at one another, breathing heavily, each willing the other to unlock his fingers and surrender the prize.

And then the god decided for us. The storm which had been brewing all morning, finally broke. A mighty crack of thunder sounded, so loud and fierce that it seemed to echo right above the Min-pole where we hung. It startled both of us, and for just one tiny instant it distracted my rival, destroying his concentration long enough for his fingers to loosen on the icon. And that tiny moment was all I needed. I seized the icon towards myself, and started my climb down the rope. Climb, I told myself. Don't slide. Remember it's the rule !

And then the fast, last, stumbling run to where the High Priest was waiting, my leg muscles trembling and about to collapse under me, my hands burning and one palm with a bloody rope-burn, sweat everywhere, my arms one aching mass of pain, but knowing the sweet, sweet taste of victory.