<div align="center"><strong>Patrocles Aktianos arriving at the head of Domina Matella's entourage - Outside the main gate - Ludus Tarraconensis</strong></div><br/><div style="text-align: right;">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/23/Patrocles_Aktianos.jpg)</div><br/>Patrocles strode through the sandy streets and path ways in front of the Domina’s entourage.  His head swiveled from side to side, eyes scanning open doorways and windows, alleyways and rooftops; constantly aware of any danger that might present itself.  He did not of course expect trouble today, but as life had taught him he needed to be ever vigilant against the scum that passed for Roman citizenry here in Tarraco’s markets and city streets, in all of the conquered areas of Hispania in fact.  Patrocles understood, of course, that many Romans came here for short periods of time as an escape from the rigors of life in Italy, but the citizenry that called this city their home were a different matter all together.<br/><br/>Patrocles enjoyed the city, in spite of its inhabitants.  The climate was pleasant year round and reminded him much of home near Nicopolis.  The trade winds blowing off the water did little to cut through the arid summer time heat, but it provided a fairly constant breeze that cooled substantially at night making it pleasant to sleep.  He did of course prefer the smaller country towns of his boyhood but the bustle and energy of the city intrigued him whenever he had opportunity to escort Domina Matella somewhere as her guard.  He understood of course that he was more than a simple guard; much more.<br/><br/>In his five years under her roof at Ludus Matella he had risen not only to be worthy of guarding her, but had risen in fact to the position of her champion.  Recently, after the passing of her husband, whom Patrocles had learned to respect in his time under his heel, he had become more than a simple slave, or gladiator, or even a champion to Domina.  He enjoyed the change and the elevation of his status further; he enjoyed even more the opportunities he had be awarded with to provide satisfaction for her when she summoned.  He knew that it was part of the reason that she had him here today.  Any one of the house guards could have served this role today, leaving him to train, but Domina wanted him with her.  She wanted him close by her side; and he knew; she wanted to show off her prize to the rival lanista.  Previously, it had always been Dominus Matella who had travelled to the other ludus to rattle his sword and show off his wares, but since his passing it had fallen to Domina to show the other lanistae how little they were in comparison to the strength and power of her stable.  Today was about business, and Patrocles had no illusion that it was anything else.<br/><br/>They made their way out of the city; away from the bustle and noise.  They walked through the sandy countryside hemmed in by scrub brush, vineyards and olive groves.  Finally they turned on the sloping curves of the roadway into the hills above the city and up a series of steep switchbacks.  The entourage finally arrived at the outside gate to Ludus Tarraconensis.<br/><br/>The high sandstone walls were certainly imposing, and Patrocles was sure that they would keep the lanista’s stock inside if any had designs on fleeing and casting off the shackles of slavery.  The villa sat to the right of the gate from where he stood, and from the sounds that fell upon his ears, the training yard must be off to the left on the other side of the high walls.  Although it was approaching what would normally be a meal time in the ludus at home their appeared to be the sounds of hard training proceeding, including the resonating clank of something metal meeting hard bone and the ensuing grunt as someone fell victim to whatever it was hitting them.  He chuckled to himself at the fleeting absurdity that crossed his mind that the sounds reminded him someone being hit in the head with an iron cook pot.  Angry voices now rose from the yard followed by the sounds of a scream that almost seemed to trail away into the distance.<em>The acoustics this high must be strange indeed</em>he thought,<em>Still, it is a brilliant view.</em>The villa’s walls were not so grand and high in front where the road ended at their gate, but were still high enough to deter anyone from entering unbidden.  Patrocles motioned for the slaves carrying the Domina’s sedan chair to hold while he approached the gate looking it up and down, scanning the roadsides and the tops of the wall.<br/><br/>Standing back from the gate about 10 feet he loosely placed his hand on his hip and the belt where his gladius hung.  Domina had him dress in a fitted leather cuirass lined in bronze overlay, light bracers on his arms and greaves over his booted feet.  He carried no shield or helmet, as would have been normal for a paid guard.  However, as he was here as more than just as her guardian, she seemed to want his hands less encumbered and his face left uncovered.  A slight breeze blew up the cliff side and tousled his dark blond hair which he had worn loose today at his mistress’ bidding, he tossed his hair back with a flip of his head, combing it back from his face with his left hand, he turned his face into the breeze and inhaled deeply at the sea air blowing up from the coast.  His face immediately turned sour as instead of fresh salt air his nose was instead assaulted with the smells of blood, sweat, urine and shit.  The winds were blowing straight through the training yards and slave’s quarters only to buffet them as they now stood in front of the gate.  He motioned for the slaves to turn the sedan so that the wind was at Domina’s back… they subtly complied in such a way as to cause Domina to simply think that they had turned to make her disembarking easier and closer to the gate if she chose to walk from there.<br/><br/>He nodded again, this time at Caris, the personal slave to Domina, and gave her the ok to move forward and announce their arrival.  She strode forward, past where he stood and rang the gong once, retreating back to stand alongside the chair, should she be needed.  Scanning again the upper balconies of the villa and the tops of the wall by the training ground Patrocles tensed, waiting for the gate to open.<br/><br/>After waiting for what seemed to be far too long on a summer’s afternoon, the gate opened slightly and a thin face appeared through the crack in the gate with a look of inquiry on their face.  Patrocles stepped forward to address them in a casual but confident voice.<br/><br/>My mistress, Domina Livia Metalla seeks admittance to your fine ludus and to speak with Dominus Atellus.  Please allow us to pass into your courtyard that we may await the Master Atellus.<br/><br/>As the gate swings wide to allow them passage Patrocles nods to the slaves by the sedan chair and they resume their positions at the head and foot of the chair.<br/><br/>If it pleases you, Domina, I would have them escort us through the gate so that you may wait for the Master of the house in the shade of his courtyard.<br/><br/>At seeing her nod of ascension, he signaled the bearers to lift her sedan chair and they moved through the gate, led by Patrocles and trailed by Caris.  Upon passage into the outer courtyard he signaled the bearers to wove to the far right corner of the courtyard, in a shaded place furthest away from the stables and training grounds, so that what ever smells are present would be less odiferous to his mistress.  As the chair is once again placed on the ground, this time on the fashioned stone of the courtyard he again scanned the area, looking at windows and door ways; scrutinizing them for any sign of danger.<br/><br/>