Knelt before the alter, Tristan offered a few words to Ares in preparation for what was coming. He could hear the other warriors outside going through their own rituals, swords and shields clanging and clashing. It was different kind of music to prepare to. Finishing his prayers to Ares, he turned spoke to Athena briefly before standing and turning to the box where his armor and weaponry was held.
The door opened a little, and his wife said softly, "They leave soon, my love. You must hurry."
Tristan turned and took a step towards her, the only sign that it was safe for her to enter, and she ran into his arms. Tears were in her eyes, but she didn't dare let them fall as that would only say she did not expect him back.
The contact was brief, but it was enough. Without words, they shared a kiss and then she left him to finish preparing. Eyes closed, Tristan allowed that moment to burn into his mind for when things became tough. He was going to be cutting it close and he knew it, but that moment was worth what he would face being a little late.
Opening up the chest, he pulled out the pieces of his armor and slid them on. Being just a gladiator that gained freedom, he wasn't given the armor of a typical soldier. He had a leather breastplate that had a silver plate woven onto the abdomen. Leather gauntlets were slipped over his arms and strapped into place. He already wore the leather pants that he would be wearing. Unfortunately he wouldn't have nearly the protection on his lower half compared to his upper half or the soldiers in the army.
His final piece was a belt that already held his sword's sheath looped onto it. It was merely a gladius, short but broad. Lifting the sword, he held it parallel to his body in front of him, the tip facing the sky and the broad side towards him. He pulled it against his forehead, eyes closed, and prayed for it's success out in the field before placing a gentle kiss to the metal and sheathing it.
The helmet in the chest was considered and then lifted. He stared at the metal plate that would cover the area between his eyes and the top of his head. It was covered in leather in an effort to make it comfortable but as it wasn't the soldiers that wore them it wasn't that big of a deal.
Tucking it under his arm, he left the room. His wife was kneeling before the alter, and would stay there until after he had left. She had seen him as she wanted to remember him already; the idea that the last sight of him was of him leaving for battle was not something she wanted.
Outside, a shout went up and Tristan rushed out just in time to see a fire starting on one of the walls that surrounded the town. It would be several days before the soldiers arrived, if they even came before the battle was over. But this town was full of reformed criminals, the gladiators that survived, and their families. It would be a hard fight ahead, but they wouldn't ever lay down and give the enemy their home.