9 Prologue Rome, one night in A.D. 303 An iron gate opened to one side of the arena. For a brief time, a hush fell on the excited crowd. Thousands of heads turned as one toward the dark, gaping opening into the bowels of the Colosseum. Thousands of eyes searched the shadows in the hope of spotting something. Suddenly, a roar... A shiver ran through the stands. In the little group in the center of the arena, a woman fainted. A man caught her before she collapsed in the sand. Another man rushed to help him. The group tightened around the woman, who bravely stood back up. Her swoon lasted only a few seconds. She squeezed the hand of the man supporting her and pressed the arm of a woman beside her, as if to say, “I’m all right. I will stand my ground.” A second roar broke the silence of the Colosseum. The spectators held their breath. At last, they could make out a shape, a movement in the shadows. And suddenly a lion surged into the light of day. A murmur of fright rose up in the stands and grew louder when a second and then a third wild beast emerged. The murmur became a dull buzz, then intensified to a real clamor. The crowd
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