Into the Arena Trumpets, cymbals, a cacophony of sound screams out to herald the arrival! Out of the dark, into blazing, sunlit arena, each facing mortality. Hearken the mob. Hunger for blood already whetted by precursory events. Imperator! Ritual salutations exchanged, time for combat to commence. Both circling, stalking other. Retiarius demonstrates agility. The secutor reliant on strength of honed body. Beware the three pronged trident. Advance, retreat, advantage, loss. Clash of sword on shield. Weary bodies strain and sweat. Secutor thrusts, slicing shoulder of retiarus. Blood and sweat intermingle. In the stained sand, slipping and straining for advantage, fatigued muscles scream with pain. With sweat slicked skin, retiarius flings weighted net in wide arc to entangle. Too late! He sees mistake. The crowd, sensing victory, bays for blood. “Let him have it!” Death comes swiftly to the vanquished. Snared in own rete, sacrificed by secutor. Lightening speed and trident could not safeguard against gladius wielded with strength. Charon’s hammer, ensured, with Mercury’s hot iron that life had eked away. Ignominy for loser, dragged off through blood stained sand. Laurels for the conqueror. “sine missione” |