As Patrocles stood in the study he watched intently each person and their interaction with each other.  He noted the Roman soldier and wondered what business he would have here at a ludus.  He noted also the slaves of the ludus as they flitted about tending to the guests; pouring wine and water and passing trays of fruit to the guests of the ludus.  Though he felt the dust in his throat he knew that he would not be offered even water to quench his thirst.<br/><br/>Standing against the wall next to where Domina had been sitting Patrocles watched as she left with Manius, he saw her nod to him; an unspoken order to stand down and to stay where he was.  While he did not fear for her, he was troubled by her absence.  What was he to do, other than to stay in his place?  Was he to watch over Caris… not likely.  It was obvious to him that she held nothing but contempt for him and his over-watch would be unwelcome to say the least.  He watched as she moved away on Domina’s orders to see to the cleaning of the soiled garments, and smiled inwardly when she was reproached by one of the male house slaves.  He did not wish her to be made a fool, but still he did not mind that she was put into her place somewhat.<br/><br/>After what seemed like a very long time, but in reality was likely far less time than his perception told him it was, a house slave, no more than a boy really, came into the study and departed again quickly with one of the men who had been standing over near where a group of the ludus’ gladiators were on display.  One of them was decked out in gold paint fit to resemble Apollo himself.  Their champion he wondered.  He looked formidable enough, although the garish paint made Patrocles chuckle to himself.  He did not see the purpose of such pageantry.  He preferred the simplicity of a light armor and simple weapons; the simplicity of an honorable battle without theatrics; the simplicity of feeling his weapon stab into soft flesh and spill the blood of his enemy… then the roar of the crowd.<br/><br/>As his eyes continued moving he actually felt his breath catch in his chest.  Standing behind the golden gladiator stood a woman gladiator.  She was beautiful, even through the dirt and blood she appeared to be spattered with.<em>But, a gladiator?</em>Now Patrocles found himself actually smiling; almost laughing aloud, at the thought of a woman in the arena taking up arms.  He of course had heard that some of the northern barbaric tribes placed woman into the role of warriors, but to actually see once took his by surprise and amused him.  He would love to see her in action if for no other reason than to watch her lithe form as it danced through the arena in a dance of combat and death.  She was worth watching if for no other reason than looking at her and appreciating her body.<br/><br/>Tearing his eyes away from the woman he heard, and then saw, a female slave come into the study and announce something about entertainment on the balcony.  He looked to Caris to see how she responded.  He felt as though they were told to stay put by their mistress.  They were not here to be entertained, and he felt that the invitation would not be for them.  If Domina wanted them she would send for them.<em>No, it would better to stay here and wait on her.</em><br/>