xcited, but stared
wordlessly at Patroclus for seconds.

"Well, Iron-heart," he burst out finally, "aren't you even curious about
what you have got to do today?"

"Not particularly," Patroclus replied, indifferently. "Except to dress
to fit. Why? Something special?"

"_Extra_ special. The sensation of the year. Fermius himself. Unlimited.
Free choice of weapons and armor."

"Fermius!" Livius exclaimed. "Fermius the Gaul? May Athene cover you
with her shield!"

"You can say that for me, too," the lanista agreed, callously. "Before I
knew who was entered, like a fool, I bet a hundred sesterces on
Patroclus here, at odds of only one to two, against the field. But
listen, Bronze-head. If you get the best of Fermius, I'll give you a
full third of my winnings."

"Thanks. You'll collect. A good man, Fermius, and smart. I've heard a
lot about him, but never saw him work. He has seen me, which isn't so
good. Both heavy and fast--somewhat lighter than I am, and a bit faster.
He knows that I always fight Thracian, and that I'd be a fool to try
anything else against him. He fights either Thracian or Samnite
depending upon the opposition. Against me his best bet would be to go
Samnite. Do you know?"

"No. They didn't say. He may not decide until the last moment."

"Unlimited, against me, he'll go Samnite. He'll have to. These
unlimiteds are tough, but it gives me a chance to use a new trick I've
been working on. I'll take that sword there--no scabbard--and two
daggers, besides my gladius. Get me a mace; the lightest real mace
they've got in their armory."

"A _mace_! Fighting _Thracian_, against a _Samnite_?"

"Exactly. A mace. Am I going to fight Fermius, or do you want to do it
yourself?"

The mace was brought and Patroclus banged it, with a two-handed
roundhouse swing, against a stone of the wall. The head remained solid
upon the shaft. Good. They waited.

Trumpets blared; the roar of the vast assemblage subsided almost to
silence.

"Grand Champion Fermius versus Grand Champion Patroclus," came the
raucous announcement. "Single combat. Any weapons that either chooses to
use, used in any way possible. No rest, no intermission. Enter!"

Two armored figures strode toward the center of the arena. Patroclus'
armor, from towering helmet down, and including the shield, was of
dully-gleaming steel, completely bare of ornament. Each piece was marred
and scarred; very plainly that armor was for use and had been used. On