The day had been a rather uneventful one in comparison to the excitement of the past months - travelling with a former Consul can cause all sorts of happenings. Still there had been no bloodshed or other such nonsense. Old Falco had gotten a chance to use his silver tongue once or twice and admittedly there had been a little scuffle at the subura - nothing serious though, just two old men emptying a wine house of ruffians.

This whole fighting on the arena business had become more a hobby these days - not that Cato would be quite yet be ready to put down his weapons, keel over and die - on the contrary. He just didn't feel the need to fight that often. Still there he was again. The arena. As he was donning his armor and weapons the greek wondered silently about many things. Who would he be facing? How should he approach his foe? Would his foe be in better condition than he is? Those were only few of the questions Cato thought about as he gripped hold of his square shaped shield and the trident.

As he made his way to the sands Cato was greeted by nearly deafening applauds and a good part of the crowd began a chant of "SWORD OF MARS!" Very calmly the greek made his way to face the emperor's stand. He made a quick salute and smirked "Hail, Emperor. Those who are about to die salute you." He wasn't quite sure if he'd be facing the young man who had just downed a much larger warrior. He waited patiently to hear the Emperor's words.