<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: palatino linotype;">The Lion was curled up in his cage. His right eye and cheekbone were black and blue, swollen shut from having taken a blow from the pommel of a gladius and beneath the sack cloth, the Praetorian Guard had dressed him in, there was more damage done. His golden skin was splotched dark on his stomach and back with light bruises. How did he receive those injuries? It had happened not too long ago…<br/><br/><br/>   “Cadmus Leomedes?” the praetor questioned.<br/><br/>   The Lion rose, having set a bucket of feed down for the throng of goats that butted aggressively at each other for the first bite. He faced the four guards with indifference; a thin piece of straw was rolling along his teeth as he silently regarded these men that knew him by name. It was a shame that they didn’t recognize him. Actually, he was astounded that they couldn’t.<br/><br/>   Cadmus stood before them in cloth and leather-strapped sandals that wrapped his lean calves. A light, cotton tunic gave room to rippling, bronze muscles sculpted like delicate marble and from the days he spent carrying bails and testing the capabilities of his irons. His dark, maple hair fell in slim, shoulder-length tendrils about his neck. A piece of woven thread kept the mess from tumbling in way of his sights as he squinted through the bright light of the peaking sun.<br/><br/>   The praetors regarded the quiet man uneasily before one of them unraveled a scroll and recited, “Cadmus Leomedes is hereby under arrest by the nation-state of Rome for the deflowering of the beloved of Thracian prince Zalmodegikos. Because of his beloved Accalia, you are not to be put to death, but to be enslaved. You can thank her for pleading to the prince to spare you.”<br/><br/>   Cadmus spat the straw from his lips and rested his hands on his hips as his brows rose inquisitively. “Interesting. This Cadmus must be a bold man.”<br/><br/>   The praetors scowled suspiciously. “Are you not Leomedes? Lying and harboring the criminal will have you arrested too.”<br/><br/>   “Do you have a description of this Cadmus, and on what conditions were he spared?”<br/><br/>   The praetor peered at the scroll and read, “Tall, ugly, dark hair, a goat herder and blacksmith; he was spared charges for death after Accalia had said she had pitied him for his loins had been so short that the night had been rather cold.” They roared with laughter at the explanation and stared at the stranger that stood before him, curious to what he had thought of the statement.<br/><br/>   Cadmus arched a slow brow and tilted his head to the side unsure whether to feel insulted or thankful. That wasn’t how he had remembered it, but the woman was clever though sharp with her tongue. He planned to humor the guards at least. “Based on said evidence, I suppose I’m your man, but a lion is not caught so easily.”<br/><br/><br/>So, the story had went that he had ran and gave the Romans quite the marathon before they caught him, beat him, stripped him down, and…well, the joke was no longer amusing. Thus, The Lion was lying broken in the cart. There was a smile triumph on his lips as he relished having outwitted the Romans. He was awakened by a harsh prodding at his leg from the butt of a pole arm, and then dragged across the splintered bed as the other slaves had already stepped from the wagon.<br/><br/>With a soft groan, Cadmus sat up as his arms were taken into the violent hands of the praetors. He was then roughly shoved into the chain gang. He had learned throughout his journey that a certain family of lanistae was to own him for as long as he survived the gladiator matches. With his wrists and ankles shackled, and with the constant enraged jabbing from his armored friends, he wouldn’t be surprised if he lasted an hour in line.<br/><br/>It hadn’t been long before they were within the training yards of the House of Caelius. Silently, through the twisted layers of his mane, he watched the gladiators that growled, barked, and fought with other gladiators that seemed inexperienced compared to their might. His oaken oculars studied the movements of each man. It was unintentional of him to do so for it had came naturally with his mannerisms. Lucious’s announcement, his scrutiny was interrupted as he watched the dramatic introduction of his trainer. As serious as being a gladiator sounded, for some odd reason not even Cadmus understood why, he couldn’t take it seriously. He was that fool-confident that he would do absolutely fine for there were other things that could kill him before any <em>game</em> could, and that was women. Such was why he wound up a gladiator in the first place.<br/><br/>The Lion’s eyes were lured to a woman that was amongst the links. She was as wild as any woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her desire to murder seemed to out weight her desire to be free as she had attempted to do so with a nefarious scream. The trainer was prompt to subdue her like an animal—like a woman. Seeing the flick of his whip sent chills up his back as though it had been a serpent instead. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been whipped before, but that was another story. Cadmus was unaware of the stories of why these men and women were here, but he did know his own, and his had been quite a pleasure.</span></span>