Love and Duty

 

 

 

 

 

"Could you keep Marcus today, Livia?" Paolina asked. They had been cooped in the house for nearly four days. Maximus was away with the legion repairing one of the roads to the south which had been damaged by spring floods. His progress was delayed by the almost ceaseless rain of the week- and when, at last, it let up, Livia was not surprised that her lively daughter-in-law wished to spend a few hours alone.

"Of course." She said, extending her hands to little Marcus, who was almost ready to take a step toward her. He was clutching the edge of a table, looking at her warily. "I would love to watch him. If I need help, I will call Esther." She said, speaking of the kitchen slave who often assisted with the child. "Are you going into town?"

"Yes." Paolina answered quickly. "I...I think that I will look at some new fabric for dresses to wear in Rome."

Livia nodded. "Oh yes, bring samples if they have them. I will need several new tunicas made as well. I haven't had a fancy dress in...." She smiled as she tried to think back to the time, a little surprised when she realised it was before her husband's death. "...in forever." She finished at last. Opening her eyes again, she took in the younger woman's lovely form and sighed, wishing that she too were a young bride again. "Hurry along...you never know if these fluffy clouds are true...it may rain again at any moment..."

Nodding, Paolina strapped on her sandals and raced out the door.

 

*****

 

Paolina hurried through the town, but did not stop at the dress shop.

Instead, she walked past the well in the town's center and turned left down a narrow alley, stopping at a low, ramshackle looking building and opening up a heavy door which led to a flat above the bakery.

The general's wife walked carefully up the stairs, feeling a little bit frightened, and hoping that no one had seen her. Although Tertulla was, to the respectable wives of their little valley, the bringer of life, she was, to the girls who followed the camp, a person who rid them of unwanted mouths to feed. No girl conscious of her reputation would come to the flat alone- they would send a slave with a golden coin and beg the midwife's appearance at their home. She shuddered to think of what Maximus would say if he found out.

Paolina knocked on the door and waited for a long while. Was she at home? Her heart hammered in her chest, but at last, the door swung open.

"Yes?" A young girl that she didn't recognize said, peering through the slim crack.

"Is...is Tertulla home, I'm....I need to see her."

The girl frowned at the clean, fine cloth of Paolina's tunica. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"She doesn't have time to talk."

The door started to swing closed, but Paolina wedged her foot in the door, fumbling into her cloak for some money. When she brandished it, at last the door swung open.

"Come in." the girl said warily.

Paolina stepped inside.

"Wait here."

In spite of the intense heat of the flat- no doubt as a result of setting atop the baker's ovens- Paolina drew her cloak tighter aroundher shoulders.

The room was very dark, and smelled sickly sweet of medicinal herbs. In the back room, Paolina could hear a woman moaning, as if she were in pain and, in a small basin beside the door, she saw a bloody knife and scissors soaking in a clay pot. Her jaw clenched, and she fought the need to vomit.

"Paolina?"

The girl looked up sharply, jumping at the sound of Tertulla's voice.

"What are you doing here?" the midwife asked, wiping her hands on her apron. Paolina tried to ignore the scarlet trails that her movements left on the pale cloth.

"I...I need to speak with you." She said quietly, looking into the doorway for signs of the other woman.

"Oh?"

"I...." she swallowed. "I think that I am pregnant again."

Tertulla's eyes widen. "Oh, Paolina...No!" And she walked forward very quickly. "How long has it been since you last had your-"

"Four months." Paolina said, recalling that, after the bleeding from the baby had ceased, there had been nothing more. Four months ago was when she had started to notice- and it couldn't be longer, the child had not yet moved.

"And your other symptoms?"

Paolina described them quickly, as Tertulla laid her hands firmly against the woman's abdomen and performed an exam. She began to cry as the strong fingers pressed against her womb. "Oh Tertulla- Maximus will be so angry!"

"Has he not followed my instructions?"

"Yes..." Paolina said earnestly. "Everything...But."

Tertulla frowned as she examined the girl's breasts. Paolina was embarassed as a little spot of moistness formed on her tunica.

"You are still feeding the baby?" Tertulla asked.

"Yes."

Slowly, the older woman drew her hands away. A bemused smile spread across her lips. "Oh, lady Maxima... you are not pregnant!"

Paolina blinked. How was it possible. "But my season..."

"You will not have it while you are still feeding....Oh, you poor girl!" She laid her hand against her patient's cheek tenderly. "I forgot to tell you! I am so sorry. Have you worried for long?"

Two months. Paolina thought, but did not speak. "Then I'm not..."

"No, things are fine." Tertulla smiled. "If you like, I can give you a syrup which will start them again ...it is time to wean the baby anyway, is it not?"

Paolina nodded, her mind very far away as the happy news wore in...not pregnant! She had not been so happy in a long time...

 

*****

 

Aelia was on the large terrace of her grandfather's villa on the Viminal hill. She turned her head to left and then to right, admiring the spectacular view of the city of Rome lying under her. As far as her eyes could travel she saw temples, arches, basilicas, theatres. The Urbe was awesome and Aelia could not wait to go outside and explore it. She had arrived a week ago but between having to meet with Quintus' family and settling down in the big villa she had  yet to put a foot out. Aelia sighed as her thought returned to her meeting with her husband's family. To say it had been awkward would be an euphemism. With the exception of Senator Clarus, who had been really affecionate toward she and Clara, the other members of the family had been cold and sometimes not so polite. She rememered how Titus iunior's -- Quintus' older brother -- wife had looked at her with a superior air, scrutinizing her from head to toe. Quintus' mother instead had made a caustic comment about the fact Clara was a girl and not a boy, remarking how good she had been bearing her husband three male children. Senator Titus intervened at las,. telling his wife Aelia was young and she had all the time in the world to bear a boy- and then had returned to play with his granddaughter. Then finally they had gone away, Quintus apologize to his wife, assuring her that they were simply envious of her beauty, wealth, and the fact their marriage was a loving one and not an arranged one as it had been for them. Aelia noted wryly that they needed more practice if they wanted to shame her in some way and that she had a powerful ally in Senator Titus. The conversation had finished in laughs and remembering it Aelia smiled again.

"So, you are really happy to see me go." said an ironic voice beside her.

Aelia turned and saw her husband. He was already dressed with his uniform and suddently her smile disappeared as she remembered that Quintus was set to leave that afternoon.

"My husband, that's not true and you know it! I was just remembering something....,"  she let the sentence die and walked to him. "I will miss you so much."

Quintus wrapped her in his arms and she pressed to his chest. "I will miss you too, but I will be more relaxed, knowing that you and Clare are safe here. You will be all right here, I promise you." he said.

 "I know what. It will be fascinating to rediscover the city after so many years."

"Yes, but please stay away from the Suburra, it is not a place for a lady." The legate was afraid his wife wanted to see again the insula where she had lived with his father.

Aelia nodded and asked, "When does your ship leave?"

"I must start for Ostia within a hour."

"Oh! I though we had more time! Have you already said goodbye to Clara?"

"Not yet."

"Well, it's time you do." Aelia stepped back from his embrace, and took his hand in hers, "Come with me." And she led him inside the house.

They walked hand in hand along the seemely infinite marble hallways. General Claudius' villa had been deserted -- except for the slaves and the caretakers -- for years but Aelia's spirit and wonderful taste had already breathed new life in the old and sometimes sad rooms. She had arranged for lot of fresh flowers to be put in all the rooms everyday and their delicate smell accompanied Quintus and Aelia to the nursery. They softly opened the door, hoping the baby was not sleeping. Quintus wanted to salute his daughter propely but she look so beautiful when she slept that he would have hated to awaken her. Luckily Clara was wide awake and she smile upon seeing her tata. Quintus picked her up from her crib, as the always vigilant wetnurse disappeared to give some privacy to the small family. Aelia and Quintus walked to a small couch and sat down side by side. Quintus caressed Clara under the chin with his forefinger and she gurgled in ecstasy. The proud parents shared a smile and continued to observe in silence all of their child's moves.

As he watched Clara, Quintus felt a wave of sadness wash over him....Was he doing the right thing leaving for Judea? He knew it would be at least nine months before he could return for a visit. Unlike in the northern provinces, where the autumn arrival signaled the end of the wars until the next spring, in the middle-east the climate was always temperate and every season was the same. Quintus sighed. He had taken a decision and he now have no choice. He  concentrated once more on Clara, trying to fix every particular of her face, her smiles and her gurgles in his memory, since he knew how much he would change during his absence -- he had observed it with Maximus' son. He felt tears prick behind his eyelids and not trusting himself, he handed the baby to Aelia. She took Clara and put her back in the crib. Then, understanding his emotions, she returned to her husband and hugged him tightly to herself, untill a servant not arrived to politely announce the arrival of Quintus' escort to Ostia.

Then they said goodbye.

 

*****

 

"Did you find anything interesting?" Livia asked as her daughter-in-law burst into the house.

The girl's cheeks were pink and glowing and she had a broad smile on her face.

"Yes...er...no...." She said quickly and flushed. "I never made it to the shop...I...er....." blushing furiously, she merely darted up the stairs.

"Has Maximus come home?" She asked quickly.

"No....I don't expect him until after lunch. The roads are bound to be muddy and..." The older woman quit speaking when she realized that her daughter in law had almost disappeared.

Paolina slipped into the bedroom and stared at herself in the hammered metal mirror. The dim surface revealed wild hair and wide eyes that perfectly reflected how she felt inside.

Not pregnant.

She kept repeating it to herself over and over, afraid that it would cease being true unless she kept it in the forefront of her mind. She had never felt so alive...Finally gaining composure, Paolina picked up a brush and began smoothing down her hair, grimacing as the bristles caught on the heavy tangles in her hair. She persisted, however, finally twisting her curls into a low bun which she secured with a tortoise shell comb. Next, she ran a bath, tinting the warm water with rose oil. Tonight she would celebrate- and she wanted it to be perfect.

"Paolina?"

She was just getting out of the tub when she heard Maximus' bootfalls on the stairs, pulling on a thin robe, she opened the door.

Unlike his wife, the  general looked bone tired, and he was caked from head to foot with mud.

"Paolina!" He said, reaching out his hands, then lowered them as he noticed his dirty condition.

She smiled, not really caring if he soiled her robe.

"Maximus!" She exclaimed, eyes shining. Then, looking him over added. "It looks like you came to the right place."

Grinning broadly, Maximus stepped into the little chamber and stripped away his uniform. He would not let Paolina help- although she did not care about preserving her unblemished perfection, he enjoyed the sight- a welcome change after nearly a week with his men- too much to spoil it.

When he was naked, she helped him into the water, still tinted with her scent.

Maximus smiled. "Mmmmm....rose petals. The boys back at camp are going to like this."

Paolina swatted him playfully, splashing water onto his face. "The boys at camp better not get close enough to smell you." She teased, then she leaned forward to soap his neck, following closely with her lips. "Besides, I have plans for getting you dirty again before you return."

Maximus shivered, seeing, as if for the first time, the change that had come over Paolina's eyes. What had happened? Did he dare ask? "Paolina?" He said simply, hoping that the single word would draw out what he wanted to know.

She merely flashed her teeth.

"I missed you." She whispered, and then Maximus yelped a little in surprise as, with a loud splash, Paolina was in the bath beside him.

For a second, Maximus' mouth hung open, surprised by his wife's forwardness, but the feeling of her hands smoothing along his body helped him to quickly recover.

"Paolina..." he murmured, feeling his body react to her soft touches. He drew her closer, a damp tendril of her hair sliding across his cheek. "I missed you too..."

They lost themselves in passion for a few moments, their whisperings, faint gasps, and the sloshing of water the only sounds coming from the little room. Paolina pulled her wet robe over her head, and Maximus made a little sound of pleasure. The bathroom was starting to feel very small.

He held his wife away for a moment, erasing her pouting lips with a feathery kiss. "Wait..." he murmured and walked toward the door.

"Mama..?" He called down the stairs. The call was answered by the sound of her chair scraping back across the wooden floor.

"Yes?" She answered.

"Did Cicero bring in the letters out of my saddlebags?"

Paolina frowned, not understanding why this inquiry could not wait. Maximus squeezed her thigh suggestively in a manner that said "wait."

"No, Maximus. I do not see them."

"Would you go and ask him?"

There was a pause.

"Yes, of course. I will take Marcus with me."

Paolina smiled, finally understanding as the heavy back door swung shut beneath them. Grabbing each other's hand, the pair ran giggling to the bedroom, losing themselves in each other again as they fell onto the soft bed.

Paolina had never felt hungrier for her husband, and he responded strongly to her desire. She could not count the number of times that he brought her to an impossibly electric climax, only to find that he could take her higher still...

Meanwhile, Livia had returned from the barn. She had not been able to find the manservant, but, with Marcus balanced on one hip, she had retrieved the letters from the saddle herself. A supply list. A note from one of the century commanders. She frowned. They didn't look terribly important...but then, she was not a general.

Remembering the note of urgency in her son's voice, she mounted the staircase, intending to deliver them right away, but she stopped outside his door. A trail of water led from the bathroom down the hall and-

She blinked, and then blushed furiously as she heard Paolina's voice calling her son's name.

Perhaps the letters were not so important after all.

Embarassed, but smiling, she walked back down the stairs. All too soon Maximus would be gone again. Let them enjoy it while they could.

END OF PART ONE

 

43

 

INTERLUDE

173 - 180 AD

 

I - Paolina

 

The following spring as Maximus left Gaul for Germania, Paolina, Livia and little Marcus travelled to Rome to visit with Aelia, accompanied by one of Paolina's brothers, Tertius, who used the trip to check the family's accounts with some bankers. The sojourn in the Capitol was an extraordinary experience for the two country women, impressed by the beauty and the magnificence of the monuments, the temples and the palaces. Most extraordinary was for Paolina to see Aelia live and move in that was really her natural habitat. She was elegant, educated, always sure of herself....a true Roman lady. She was happy to live in the Urbe, the center of the Empire, but Paolina realized that was not a place were she could live forever....at least not without her husband near her. She missed Maximus and missed the country life and so with the arrival of the autumn she and her family returned north, where Maximus was already waiting for her.

 

In the following few years life for Paolina went on almost identical. She stayed in Gaul, watching her son grow up, with the company of Livia and other friends. During the autumns and winters Maximus returned from the front and they could spent some months in blissfull happiness, living as a normal family.

But all changed in 176.

 

In that year the Marcommanni, a ferocious German people did a thing that everybody considered impossible: they invaded the Italian peninsula placing the city of Aquileia under siege.

It was a tremendous shock for the Roman people but the Empire reacted quickly by sending the feared Felix Cavalry Regiment against the invaders. In the bloody battles that followed the Marcommanni were defeated and Maximus, General of the Felix Legions, was appointed by Marcus Aurelius as Commander of all the Armies of the North, substituting the general who had permitted to the barbarians to slip right under his nose and reach Italy.

The promotion was bitter-sweet for Maximus and his family. On one hand they were proud of his accomplishments and the new, prestigious, position was the just reward for so many years of good, faithful work, but on the other hand, it meant that Maximus could no longer leave the front during the winter months to visit his family in Gaul. His new Headquarters was located in Vindobona, much further east  that his previous position. Only on one occasion he was able to leave the front -- and it was not a happy one: Livia, his strong, young and spirited mother, fell suddently ill and died in a couple of weeks. With her death new problems crushed on the family: before dying the woman had asked to Paolina to take care of the farm in Trujillo and so was now the time came for Maximus' wife and son to transfer in Hispania. For Paolina was a very hard change of life, even if Aelia was with her to help her to settle down in the first few months. She had to adapt to a new country, a new home, to new servants, and all without Maximus, who accompanied her but could not stay for more than few days. However she was able to cope with the new situation, dedicating all her strength to the farm and Marcus. The boy was his parents' pride and joy: healthy, intelligent, good natured, with a tremendous love for horses. It was  wonderful for Paolina to play with him, and to watch him become a good rider. She was sad Maximus could not share that with her.

As the months became a year, and the year became years, husband and wife continued to exchange letters. Paolina knew that Maximus wanted nothing more than return home and forget all about the war, the army and Germania, but the he could not leave until his duty was complete. His code of honour permitted him nothing else.

And then by the autumn end of 180, a letter arrived in which Maximus announced to her that a resolutive battle would happen soon and from his excited tone Paolina realized that it was not small talk to reassure her...he truly believed it!

Finally after almost three years Maximus was going to return home.

 

II - Aelia

 

The years passed quickly for Aelia. She was happy in her big home, and she barely remembered the heartache of the past. Stopping sometimes, to buy flowers from a pretty little girl in the square outside the forum, she would hold Clara's hand a little tighter and remembered what her life had been - what it still might be like, and she would give the little salesman a golden denarius for a bucket of posies and then decline the change, enjoying the look of surprise on the small face, and imagining the treasures that the girl would buy. Probably nothing, her brain reminded herself, still warring with the romantic nature that, though hidden, ran deep.

 

Paolina and Livia's visit seemed to end all too soon. Time and distance had healed the rift between the "almost sisters", and Aelia loved having someone she knew so well to help her adjust to her new station. Most of the Imperial family was gone- though the ailing empress was briefly in residence, and so the dinner party they attended at the palace was filled with enough august personages to be memorable for the provincials, while remaining blessedly Lucilla-free.

Aelia was surprised at the changes a half-year had wrough on her "nephew".

He was really walking now, toddling away from his nurse at every opportunity, forever threatening the priceless vases and tapestries that lined the long halls. It was not long enough before she saw the same transformation in Clara- from a rose-cheeked baby to a giggling, golden-haired girl.

 

Unlike Maximus, Quintus was unable to return the first year, or the second. Letters to his wife were his only contact. Ironically, Aelia felt closer to him than ever before. Quintus had always been more a man of action than a man of words. In his letters, she was able to gain a deeper insight into the man he was inside- and the man he longed to be. On long, brittle rolls of papyrus they shared their news, but also their thoughts about books and politics, gossip, jokes, declarations of love, and plans for the future.

When Quintus finally returned, it was with the news that they had all been hoping for. Aelia saw it in his sparkling eyes as he entered her grandfather's house. She did not let him kiss her before she demanded confirmation of the rumors she had heard throughout the city. Cassius had retired, taking up his brother's senate seat. When he returned to Judea three months later, Quintus was the General of the Judean legions.

The visit left Aelia with more than mere happiness for her husband's achievement. Aelia was pregnant again.

As before, her confinement, and her delivery were far easier than one would dare to hope. Her mother-in-laws complaints regarding Clara's sex were put to rest. As if to put an exclamation point on her accomplishment, Aelia bore her husband twins.

More and more of Aelia's time were spent with Clara and her brothers, Titus and Appius. She also made a point to spend as much time as possible with her grandfather, still clinging tenaciously to life, though very frail. Each day he seemed weaker and more distant than before, and Aelia could almost feel him slipping away. It warmed her heart to see him smiling at her sometimes rambunctious children. For a man who had come so close to losing everything, the lively toddlers- his progeny- were a gift more precious than any of the treasures or honors that he had won.

It was hard for Aelia to leave her family behind when she went to Hispania to visit Paolina, but the trip- which would be made by boat on account of the alarming incursion of barbarians to the north- was too dangerous and tedious for such small children. Aelia mourned for the days she would miss of their growth, but she also longed to see Paolina. It had been many years since the last met.

 

Aelia's appearance had changed somewhat from her youth. Her golden-brown curls were darker, and her skin pale from a life spent indoors. Age (though she was only in her mid-20's), had thinned her features, making the fine bones of her face more prominent, and accenting the curves that her pregnancies had brought. She expected that Paolina had changed as well...but perhaps she overestimated the difference. She was greeted at the gate to the villa by a woman with the same wild curls and olive skin as her cousin. Even the height was the same- only the woman's weigh- more boyish that Paolina had been- seemed different. She was trailed by a small boy. Marcus?  Aelia had nearly hailed the woman her as her cousin, before she revealed herself to be  the groundskeeper's wife.

Paolina was waiting at the villa. The only change that time had managed was in her manners and her dress. It was clear that the same wild spirit lurked behind the light, carefully embroidered garmnets, but it was also clear that Paolina was a general's wife now. She carefully hooked her stola in her elbows, and remembered to cover her head when she stepped out of doors, warming Aelia's heart to see that her years of  "lady lessons" had not been lost.

Time continued to pass. Spring turned to summer. Summer to fall, and Aelia returned to Rome. She wept to see how tall her children had grown, and how much greyer Claudius seemed, but she was happy to be home.

 

Months passed.

 

At last she recieved the letter she had been longing for- Quintus was returning home.

His stay would be only brief, but it was welcome. Nearly three years had passed since she had last seen him. He seemed almost a different man from what she recalled. Clearly, his time as commander had been hard. His face was lined, the scars on his forehead and shoulders accented by time. The prominence of his cheekbones seemed carved into his skin, the hollow beneath them looking almost hungry. Aelia could feel the weariness in his bones as they fell into bed his first night home. She smiled with amusement when she saw- before she was even undressed- that her husband had fallen fast asleep.

Quintus would not return to Judea. The news was unexpected. Even more surprising was the reason why. He was joining Maximus again.

Aelia had never spoken of Maximus since their departure from Gaul. She had, of couse, sided with her husband in the affair. The slight in Maximus' choice- the slow but dependable Valerius in place of her smarter, stonger husband- had been keenly felt, though she kept a ladylike rein on her tongue. She did not even know that the pair were still in contact.

Aelia simply stared in wonder as Quintus explained what he was going to do. He would join his old friend as the second in command of the Nothern Armies- a massive task considering the offensive they were about to launch. They were on the brink of total and final conquest. She was proud to know that her husband would be a party to the achievement, if troubled by the politics she suspected still lingered between the two men.

Had Quintus forgiven Maximus? Even after nearly eight years of marriage, Aelia could not guess the answer. The words her husband spoke with his mouth and the thoughts that he held in his heart were often very different. He had learned to hide his emotions- to bear pain and insult so long as it fulfilled his duty as a soldier and a citizen of Rome. She suspected that his choice was motivated more by the prospect of directing the infantry- Quintus' charge in the opeation- on such a grand scale rather than a resurgence of friendship between the generals.

But again, she was silent.

Happiness was fleeting. There was little that she could change, and so she simply enjoyed the time that they had together, reveling in the intense, if transient sense of peace that filled ordered, happy lives.

If only time would stop.

 

44

 

PART II - 180 - 181AD

 

This section assumes that you have seen the movie 'Gladiator' and that all scenes not specifically altered herein, occurred as they were depicted in that movie.

 

General Maximus was standing on a low hill, his blue eyes fixed on a faraway point along the horizon, but he was not seeing the the burned expanse of the German forest which streched in front of him, he was thinking about his home and about his family. Two years and 264 days were elapsed since the last time he had embraced Paolina and Marcus and his arms ached with the desire to do that once more. He wanted to see them again, to hear his wife's voice and his son's laughters. He could almost imagine them -- as he was doing now, as he dreamed to walk in his beloved wheat fields -- but it was not the same.

The whinny of a horse snapped him back to reality and Maximus found himself once more in the devasted area that he had chosen as the site for what he was certain would be the last, resolutive battle of the never-ending war against the Germans.

Maximus turned his head and watched a little robin posed on a branch. He smiled and then followed the bird as it took off in the air. He hoped it was a good omen for the imminent battle.

 

*****

 

Quintus was walking among the infantry lines, checking and re-checking that the catapults and the other war machines were in the right position. He wished the battle to begin soon so this terrible wait would end. He was sure of the Roman army superiority and he wanted to put the words 'the end' to the chapter regarding his permanence in Germania. He wanted nothing more than return home, in Rome, with Aelia and his three children. He longed to caress their fair heads and hear their voices telling him about their games and their studies. And of course Quintus wanted to see Aelia again. Since their marriage they had spent more time apart than together and he missed her terribly. But now, if the Gods would smile upon them, he would return home and never leave again. He could apply for the Praetorian guards or retire from the army for good and begin a political career...he had the money and the name to do so.

Quintus sighed and returned to the command point, concentrating again on the matters at hand.

At last he saw the general moving toward him. He was walking slowly, stopping to chat with the men preparing for battle, playfully patting their shoulders and cuffing their heads in a supportive, almost tender gesture that implied, in spite of his title, that he was still merely one of them.

Spotting Quintus, the commander of the army of the North stepped forward.

"Lean and hungry." He said, looking over the neatly ranged rows of men with a smile. At last, his expression grew more serious. "Still nothing?"

"Not a sign." Quintus answered without facing the other officer.

"How long has he been gone?"

It was Valerius who answered the question this time. "Nearly two hours." He looked at his commander worshipfully. "Will they fight, sir?"

Quintus swallowed to hide is annoyance at the pandering tone of the question. Valerius had spent years now as Maximus' second. He was certainly qualified to make the determination on his own. Sometimes, Quintus wondered if the other man's mind were as soft as his abundant flesh.

"We shall know soon enough." Maximus answered paternally.

Quintus' eyes swept over the ranks, seizing on a catapult that had not been drawn forward with the rest. "Soldier!" He called sharply. "I ordered you to move those catapults forward, they're out of range-"

"Range is good." Maximus quickly countered.

Quintus' cheeks flushed instantly. "The danger to the cavalry-"

"-is acceptable..." Maximus met the other man's gaze evenly. "Agree?"

General Clarus swallowed his reply. There was not use. They were here to fight the Germans, not each other. Coming had been a mistake- he was too used to giving orders on his own to work under Maximus anymore, and he discovered that his old resentment had not completely died, but that was not why they were here. They had a job to do. He would do it.

"They say no..."

Maximus' words made Quintus look up sharply, and he sucked in his breath. They had sent a rider earlier, announcing acceptable terms for their enemy's surrender. Now the horse had returned. Strapped to the saddle was the bloody and headless corpse of the man they had sent.

"Ihr seid verfluchte hunde!"

The eerie cry of the barbarian chieftain echoed through the trees, settling uneasily over the ranks.

"People should know when they are conquered." Quintus murmured angrily. It was a waste, all of it. The Germans would lose in the end. Why should so many people on both sides die to prove their inferiority?

"Would you, Quintus?" Maximus asked, reading his thoughts. It drew a partial smile. His friend still knew him well, in spite of their differences. Maximus looked pensive as he continued. "Would I?"

Quintus and Valerius shared a look as Maximus knelt toward the ground and gathered a handful of earth in his bandaged palms. He smeared the loam between his hands, staining his fingers with the dark and pungent soil. Neither of the observers knew where the ritual had began, but both men knew what it meant. For as long as they had fought beside him, Maximus had repeated the actions before every battle. The fight was finally at hand.

Rising again, Maximus reached for Quintus and the two clasped hands.

"Strength and honor." He said, and Quintus nodded in acknowledgment. He turned to Valerius, repeating the motions. "Strength and honor."

Striding away, Maximus accepted the reigns to his horse and, in a single, powerful motion mounted the animal. He sat very still for a moment, surveying the Barbarian army on the crest of a faraway hill, and then turning his eyes upon his own ranks. A smaller force, but pulsing with energy. At last, his eyes returned to Quintus again.

"At my signal, unleash hell."

Quintus nodded. He would. They both would, together.

 

*****

 

At last the battle was over.

Maximus joined the men for their tired, but jubilant celebration among the tents and fires of the camp. His muscles tensed as the emperor's son, Prince Commodus, approached, and he fought his sense of unease as the pair exchaged a short, polite, but loaded banter. Maximus did not trust the Prince at all.

At last, the Prince transferred his attention to another party. Maximus watched Commodus walk away and slowly released the tension he had worked up in his body during his brief conversation with the prince. He did not trust the man and having him so near was setting on his sense of alarm. And if it was not enough, Lucilla was there too. He painfully remembered their last meeting in Gaul, when she had insulted Paolina so badly....Paolina. The very thought of his wife was sufficient to bring a smile on his tired, handsome face.

Soon, he promised himself, soon, my love, we will be together and nobody will ever tear us apart again. Maximus looked around in the tent filled with officers celebrating that day victory and seeing that Marcus Aurelius had already retired for the night, decided to do the same.

 

*****

 

Commodus saw Maximus leave the tent and pursed his lips. The prince was not very satisfied of the result of his conversation with the general but he was not worried. Maximus was foremost loyal to Rome and her emperor...when then the time would came, he would kiss his ring and obey his commands, like a big, faithful dog. Commodus smiled at the image and turned around to look for someone with whom talk. He found it in General Quintus, Maximus' second in command.

"General," said Commodus, approaching him, "I am pleased to see you are well."

"Highness," replied Quintus with a bow, "I thank you for your interest."

Commodus waved his words away with a gesture of his hand, "What will you do now that the war is ended? Will you return in Rome?"

"Yes, Highness, that is my hope."

"It would be my hope too if I had a wife as lovely as yours! I saw Lady Aelia in the forum with your father few days before my departure. She looked even more beautiful than usual."

Quintus bowed his head, acknowledging the compliments to his wife but said nothing. He did not particulary like the prince but he knew he would one day sit on the throne and it was his duty to serve him, in any capacity he might desire, even if his presence was always slightly unsettling.

 

45

 

The next night Quintus was awakened abruptly by the captain of the Praetorian Guard.

"General, the Emperor wants to speak with you at once."

Quintus jumped out of his bed and, as his manservant dressed him, he idly wondered what Marcus Aurelius wanted from him at that time. He knew the emperor had a long meeting with Maximus that morning....The general hoped the old monarch did not want to offer him him the position of commander of the Armies of the North after Maximus' resignation.....But even if that were the reason, why wake him up in the middle of the night?

Finally there was no more time for questions: properly attired he followed the Praetorians through the Praetorium till the reached the imperial tent. The captain of the guards entered and said, "He is here Caesar." and then motioned him forward.

Quitus pushed aside the tentflap and...

"Your highness?"  said, confused as he found only Commodus on the other side of the fabric. "Forgive me...I was told that the emperor...." his voice trailed off as he caught the look in the young prince's eyes. It was so cold, so....controlled. He did not know why, but it sent a shiver along his spine.   

"I sent for you." He said, waiting for a reaction, and when Quintus did not make the leap of logic, he spoke again. "Marcus Aurelius is dead."

Quintus felt as though he were falling. Truly, he did take a step backwards, to maintain his balance. He opened his mouth to speak, and then not knowing what to say, clamped it shut again.

"I will, of course, take my father's place as rightful ruler of Rome."

Quintus' jaw tensed nervously.

"And I will require the assistance of loyal men....I have heard that you are such a loyal man, Clarus." The voice sounded suddenly oily. The words coiled through the air like the undulations of a snake. Their eyes met, and the general could feel his palms begin to sweat. Commodus in power! This could not be. Although removed from politics, he knew from his father's letters that it was generally held that Commodus was not fit to rule. He was spoiled. Capricious. Everyone feared what he would do to those who courted his displeasure.

"Of course." Quintus said softly.

"I wonder..." Commodus' eyes left Quintus at last, and he paced the floor of the little tent, walking to one of the busts that decorated the chamber and drawing his fingertip across the smooth stone. "...is General Maximus a loyal man?"

"He is loyal to Rome."

"He told me the same yesterday evening." The hand dropped. "I am Rome."

Quintus swallowed.

"Perhaps Maximus wishes to seize power for himself." Commodus said, dryly. "It would not be so hard...with an army to command...and army that loves him."

"Maximus wants only to return to his wife and child." Quintus said quickly.

"Perhaps...wise, heroic, Maximus....the farmer."

The soldier's heart seemed to hammer out of his chest. He had struggled with the image as well.

The silence between the men was oppressive, and so the soldier moved to speak again. "He will follow you."

"And if he does not?"

Quintus felt his mouth go very dry, realizing at last that the man expected some sort of response. What could he say? What did Commodus want him to say? That Maximus would follow him willingly? That any of them was actually pleased with the events that would transpire?

"Surely you can see that a threat to my ascendency cannot be tolerated. It would be a threat to Rome."

A nod.

"And so we might be forced to take...strong measures...to preserve Rome's safety."

"Measures?"

Commodus walked to his desk, leafing through some pages that his father had left unread. His eyes grew distant, and for a moment seemed to remember that he should play the role of a grieving child.

"You have children, don't you Clarus?"

Quintus felt his stomach clench. He prayed that the other man was merely trying to change the subject.

"Y-yes."

"Three....pretty things, I've seen them...and Maximus, I believe he has a son."

Oh, Aelia.... Quintus thought, feeling the blood drain from his face. Clara. Titus. Appius...he had thought they were safe in Rome.

"You will, of course, want them to grow in an empire that is strong and secure."

Where was the emphasis? On "strong and secure" or on "grow"? Quintus let his breath out in a slow shudder.

"Yes, sire."

"And there is Valerius..." Commodus was looking off again, he seemed to be sorting through the chain of command in his mind. His smiled suddenly, his white teeth flashing in the dim light. "He is persuadable, I think."

Quintus thought back to the pandering questions he had asked Maximus the day before. Yes, Valerius would be amenable to whatever Commodus proposed. Outside the tent, Quintus saw the shadow of the Praetorian Guards who ranged the small room. Were they sent for him, if he would not obey? He realized, with a start, that his own loyalty to Commodus was not a choice. He could follow, or he- and his family- could die. The ascendant ruler would merely pick away the officers until he found one to comply.

"Find Maximus."

"Sire?"

"Bring him too me....it is better that we secure his loyalty tonight, before word of my  father's ...passing...is spread."

There was a curt nod.

"Quintus-"

Something in the use of his given name seemed sinister. As though the young prince were summoning a slave. Hating himself for complying, but too frightened to do otherwise, he turned.

"Yes?"

"If...if Maximus will not yield, he will have to be....dealt with." The deep-set eyes seemed pitch black. "A loyal man will have to give that order."

Then it was over. Quintus whispered a prayer to the Gods that Maximus would be sensible and refrain from action until morning gave him a chance to confer with his troops.

Quintus shifted his weight uneasily, wondering why the younger man did not signal his dismissal. At last, he realized what was expected. His neck protested the simple forward nod of acknowledgment to the new emperor. "Hail Caesar."

 

*****

 

At last, Maximus drifted to sleep. Only a drought of strong wine had eventually coaxed his brain from consciousness. The events of the previous morning were incredible. Impossible. Marcus Aurelius, the emperor of Rome, had asked him to take his place.

Maximus. A simple farmer.

It was incomprehensible! Unexpected.... Unwelcome?

The general could not decide. The task the emperor proposed was an honor-to restore power to the Senate. While not truly representative, perhaps, of the Roman populace, it would at least be a step away from the excess and chaos that was the constant menace of absolute rule. Power to the senate would defeat the presumptions of Marcus' unruly son. It would preserve the order and peace that Maximus had fought so hard to win.

He missed his family. Could they go with him? How long would he stay? He smiled to think of Paolina, running barefoot through the halls of the Imperial palace. It was a role that she was not exactly born to play. Another image flashed through his mind- himself consigned to reviewing scrolls and attending hearings all day- it was not a position he imagined for himself either. He was a simple man. A farmer, more comfortable tilling soil even than leading armies. Still....

It was the chance of a lifetime...of a thousand lifetimes. It was his duty.

His destiny.

He would say "yes". He decided at last, as he drifted off to sleep.

Yes.

 

*****

 

Quintus tried to remain calm as he strode through the Praetorium toward Maximus' tent. Behind him, two Praetorians were in close pursuit. His suspicions were correct. He was being followed. How could he let Maximus know what was going on without tipping his hand?

He entered the general's tent quietly, laying a hand on the man's shoulder, and gasping as a knife sprung suddenly to his throat. Maximus smiled and lowered the knife, embarrassed to see that it was only his friend. His thoughts had made him edgy. Life at war had taught him to be careful.

The smile had barely faded before he noticed Quintus' face. Far from it's usual, placid expression, he appeared excited and almost afraid.

"Maximus." Quintus chose his words carefully, painfully aware that the Praetorians were still outside. "The emperor needs you. It is urgent."

As he had hoped, Maximus rose without question, assuming that it was Marcus Aurelius who demanded his presence. Quintus decided that it was better not to let him know what had happened in advance. His friend, intelligent, but often as impulsive as Paolina, might say something that it would be better the guards not here. At least, in the presence of Commodus himself, Maximus would have the sense to hold his tongue.

At least, he hoped so.

Quintus continued whispering prayers as they walked down the Praetorium.

 

*****

           

Maximus walked quickly through the camp, as in his mind he continued to wonder why Marcus Aurelius wanted to see in the middle of the night..Did the old monarch want his answer now? Maybe he was worried about it and he could not fall asleep wit out hearing him first...Yes, that was a good explanation but as he moved Maximus felt a sense a forebonding grip his guts.

Something was wrong, but what?

Few moments later, as he stepped in the imperial tent, he got his answer in the most terrible way.

He came face to face with Commodus who said, "Lament with me, brother, our great father is dead."

Maximus was stunned. Petrified.

Moving like a sleepwalker he approached the bed where Marcus Aurelius' body was and stared at him speechless. His brain was still trying to gasp the situation as he heard himself ask -- with a voice he barely recorgnized -- "How did he die?"

"The surgeons say there was no pain. His breath gave out as he slept."

Commodus answered but Maximus did not believe it. The late Emperor' face showed the signs of a grimace of pain and a rapid exam of his eyes let clearly see the blood around the irises. Marcus Aurelius had not die of natural causes, he had been strangled.

And Maximus knew who was the responsable.

He bent down and kissed his beloved friend cold face, "Father." he whispered and then added, only in his mind, "I wont let your dream die. I promise you."

Maximus straightened and threw a look to Lucilla, who was sitting in the opposite side of the bed. She was crying and on her face Maximus saw grief mixed with fear. She too knew what had happened or at least suspected it.

It was when that Commodus spoke again, "Your Emperor asks for your loyalty, Maximus. Take my hand."

Maximus turned slowly, looking coldly at the hand offered to him and then at Commodus. The eyes that met his were arrogant, calculating, cruel. He could not bow to such a man, it would be a betrayal of everything he believed, of everything Marcus Aurelius had dreamed.

"I only offer it once." reiterated Commodus but Maximus had made his mind. He refused the hand and sidestepped the patricide, walking to the tent exit.

Before he left the General called, "Quintus!" He did not turn around or look in his friend direction. Have he done it he would have seen the glance the new Emperor and his second in command shared.

 

*****

 

Why? Quintus' brain seemed to burn with the question as he had  watched Maximus hurry down the Praetorium. Why couldn't he have just said "yes"? Why could he not lie, if only for a moment? He glanced quickly to the new ruler, seeking mercy in the man's eyes....another chance.

There was none. The orders were given. Quintus must obey. Maximus would die regardless of his actions. Refusing the commands of the emperor would only sentence himself, Aelia, and his children to share the general's fate. The thought was faint consolation as he hurried down the hall. The guards followed closely at his footsteps. For once, Quintus was hopeful that there might be a way out. Commodus was vain, but he was not a fool. Surely, he would want Maximus persuaded if it were possible. He had to at least try...

 

*****

 

Maximus' brain was a whirlwind of thoughts as he hurried out of the tent.

Slain! By his son's own hand. He had to act- decisively and quickly. His stomach churned at the thought that this might have been avoided if he had answered Marcus Aurelius' plea when he had asked.  He would need to contact the senators first- they better understood the political climate in Rome...and then Quintus and Valerius- they would need to circulate among the men. He would need their loyalty if he were to dispute Commodus' claim.

He was pleased to see Cicero awake and pattering about the tent. He gave the boy a strong look that signaled him to drop what he was doing. "I must talk to the senators. I need their counsel. Wake Gaius and Falco."

"Gaius and Falco." Cicero echoed, turning to go.

"Sword." Maximus instructed quickly. There was no use taking any chances. Commodus had the loyalty of the guards, and he had not yet alerted his men.

The servant turned to fetch the weapon when the infantry commander swooped inside.

"Maximus, please be careful, that was not prudent." He urged as they hurried into his chambers.

"Prudent? The Emperor has been slain."

The look in Maximus' eyes was the death of hope. Quintus had seen it many times before, in the throes of a battle when the odds seemed impossibly long that they would ever survive. It was a look that said "I will not be moved", and Quintus knew that it was true.

Maximus did not note the change in his friend's eyes. He was too busy plotting his next move.

"The emperor died of natural causes."  Quintus pleaded. It was his final attempt to save his friend- a hand stretched across the abyss. "Grab it Maximus!", he wanted to shout aloud. Suddenly, the differences between them seemed trivial. They were caught up in a raging current, fighting for their very lives.

Maximus turned, staring pointedly at the Quintus' hand. It was resting on the hilt of his gladius. So, Quintus had not come to him in the dead of night unexpectedly. It had been planned. Expected.

"Quintus, why are you armed?"

Outside the tent, the Praetorians moved. It was over. Maximus must die. There would be no redemption.

"Guards." the junior general's voice was scratchy as he spoke, but firm. As if lying in wait, four burly Praetorians sprang through the tent flap and restrained the commander. "Maximus, please don't fight." * Preserve your dignity, if not your life.*             Quintus could feel his friend's accusing gaze burn into his skin, but he would not raise his eyes. "I am sorry, Caesar has spoken." He turned toward the leader of the black-clad assailants.  "Ride until dawn..." I have heard that you are such a loyal man... Commodus' words filled his mind as, at last, Quintus spoke- "...and then execute him."

At last, the scene fell into place. Maximus blinked, surprised that he had not seen the signs. Quintus? A follower of the new emperor? How could it be true? He had always been a duty, but a man of honor as well....His eyes flew to the fellow general's face. The pain there was undeniable- but resolution as well. How had Commodus gotten to him? Money? Power?...Aelia!

Maximus felt as though he had been kicked in the gut. All of the air seemed to rush from his lungs as his mind skipped quickly from Aelia to her cousin- to Paolina, his wife. Marcus! At last, his anger began to transmute into fear. Would they be a threat to the emperor as well? Would they be harmed?

"Quintus, look at me. Look at me! Promise me that you will look after my family." His voice was raw with urgency. Betrayal will be forgiven only please, please protect the things I love dearer than my life....

But Quintus would not meet his gaze. His hunched shoulders revealed that it was already too late.

"Your family will meet you in the after life."

"No!!" He struggled again, desperation almost enabling him to overpower the men, but his head was snapped backwards by a jarring blow.

Everything went black.

 

*****

 

Quintus watched as Maximus was drug from the tent, and then he nodded as another set of guards siezed the general's slave.

Cicero fought but he was no match for the burly guards.

Quintus walked near him and said, "I will let you live. You will continue to take care of Maximus' horses and dog as nothing of this ever happened....and you won't say a word of what you saw and heard tonight....Do you understand?" His tone was cold and unfeeling but it was only a ruse for the assisting Praetorians: inside him Quintus was only trying to save a life....he already had enough blood on his hands.

Cicero seemed to understand and he nodded more than once. "Yes sir."

"Free him," Quintus commanded to the guards and they did so, albeit a bit surprised by his mercy.

Quintus turned on his heels and exited the tent quickly, unable to resist a second more inside. As he stepped out he saw a group of about twenty Praetorians leaving the camp on horseback and with a shiver he immediately knew where they were directed.

A wave of nausea assaulted him as in his mind appeared the images of happier times, and he heard again Paolina's and Maximus' laughters, mingled with his own and Aelia's.

"Forgive me." he whispered in the wind, closing his eyes thightly. He made an effort to control his breath and once he did so, he straightened his uniform and walked to the imperial tent, his face transformed in a mask of stone.

 

46

 

The run through the German forests, the Gaulish valleys and the Spanish mountains seemed never ending. Spurred by an increasing terror Maximus pushed himself and his mounts to their limit. He rode for days and days, barely finding the time to rest and eat. The wound on his left arm closed and re-opened more than once -- and in the end it became infect -- but he had not the time to stop to propely tend it.

Finally when he was almost at the end of his strength, Maximus began to recorgnize the landscape around him...with the exception of the days he had spent here for his mother's funeral, more than ten years had passed since the last time he had saw his beloved Beatica but now here it was. His fevered eyes saw a tall column of thick black smoke and Maximus felt the fear descend on him as he realized it was located in the area where his farm was. With a groan of anguish he pushed the horse at gallop and rushed home.

 

*****

 

He had just arrived in the middle of the long serpentine roadway which led to the villa when the horse collapsed, dragging Maximus with him. The General stood up staggering and run along the gravel covered path. As he neared the house the nauseous smell of burned flesh assaulted his nose and he shivered in spite of the heat and his fever. Along his path he encountered the broken and burned bodies of his servants, lying in his destroyed fields. His steps became heavier and heavier as he walked the last meters separating him from the villa courtyard. He forced himself to go on and to see what he already knew he would see. Only a couple of walls of his pink stoned house were still up but he barely looked at them before he stopped in front of the kitchen garden and saw his worst nightmare becoming reality.

Paolina and Marcus. Their bodies contorted, burned and almost unrecognizable, nailed to two crude crosses.

Maximus felt his throat constrict and, unable to breath, he sank on his knees.

Tears began to run along his cheeks but he felt no relief on sheding them. The more he cried, the more his grief increased. Images of Paolina and Marcus danced in front of him and with a supreme effort he stood up and walked to the corpses, touching and kissing what remained of Paolina's feet, before falling again to the ground and surrending to the pain in his chest.

 

*****

 

With a strenght he thought he no longer had Maximus freed his wife's and son's bodies from the crosses and gently laid them on the ground. Then, using his bare hands, he dug two deep holes in the kitchen garden soft soil and buried his beloved.

As he gently patted down the mounds he kept to whisper between his sobs, "Selene....Marcus, please await for me....await for me in Elysium...please my loves..we will be together again..I promise it." Maximus had barely the time to put small violet flowers of the top of the graves and then he collapsed, won by grief, fever and tiredness.

He had reached the limit of his endurance and he did not woke up even when somebody touched his neck to see if he was still alive or when strangers' hands dragged him away from his beloved.

 

*****

 

The cart was proceding smoothly along the paved road, the horses eager to return to their stable as the people they were pulling were happy to return home. The sundown had just begun, painting the sky in delicate pink-orange and Paolina looked at it with a smile. There was something so poetic in the sun slowly disappearing behind the gentle rolling hills of Trujillo and she never got tired to admire it.

She felt Marcus' head lean on her shoulder and turning on the side she saw her son had fallen asleep rocked by the cart regular movements. Paolina exchanged a smile with her older brother, Atticus, and whispered, "So, brother, was the size of the sea equal to your expectations?" She was referring to their trip to Malaga, the important harbour located in the south-west of Hispania.

Atticus nodded, "You know it was. It is almost incredible that I waited all this time to see it but, in the other hand, the occasion to visit a harbour never came up before. Hispania is really a beautiful place, now I understand why Maximus wants to retire here."

Paolina beamed upon hearing her husband's name and then mentally sent a prayer to the Gods that he would return home soon. Almost three years had passed since they had seen each other for the last time and her longing had reached almost unbearable proportions. The letters they exchanged were better than nothing but they can't assuage the desire they had to touch each other again. And then there was Marcus....Marcus who barely remembered his father's face but who loved him dearly. Marcus who needed to spent time with his tata, to learn to be a good man as him.

Paolina sighed and Atticus reached out a hand to squeeze hers. "Don't worry, he will return soon," he said, almost reading her mind, "I heard from many people that the Germans are on the brink of total defeat, they can't resist much longer."

Paolina squeezed back her brother's hand, thanking him for his support. "I am so happy you were able to visit us, Atticus....I miss you and the others so much."

"As we miss our little sister....life is awfully quiet without you to cause troubles!" Atticus winked and Paolina swatted his arm, "I? Causing troubles? How do you dare to tell me that?"

Their playful voices awoke Marcus and the boy raised his head from his mother's shoulder. He looked around with his intelligent eyes and asked, "We are almost home, mama, aren't we?"

"Yes, darling, it is just behind that hill." Paolina pointed in front of her.

"Good, I am looking forward to see Neve (snow) again. I missed her." He was referring to his white little pony and his mother replied, ruffling his hair, "You will see her soon. I bet she too missed you."

The boy flashed her a smile, so much alike to his father's, and then concentrated on the road.

 

*****

 

As soon as they left the main road and stepped in the private lane that led to the farm, Paolina and Atticus sensed that something was wrong. An innatural silence surrounded them and a strange smell lingered in the air.

The horses too became suddently nervous and skittish and their driver had to work hard to keep them under control. The joy and the happiness of few minutes before disappeared and Marcus pressed his small body against his mother's, seeking confort.

The cart advanced slowly along the roadway, as its occupants looked around them.

Paolina saw the carcass of a chestnut horse lying and the road and her throat constricted. What had happened during their four days absence?

A gasp from Atticus attracted her attention and she turned to look to her left. Her breath caught as she saw what her brother did: burned fields, charred trees....and horribly contorted corpses. And then they saw the house, or at least what remained of it......

 

Two crosses stood in front of what used to be the front door. The wood was blackened and twisted from the fire that had ravaged the house. Jagged spikes poked from it in odd angles.

"Mama?" Marcus' eyes were wide. He had never seen such things before- his mama kept him far away from public executions- but he had learned, in the strange but certain way that children always learn of darkness- what the items were. "What happened?"

She could see that he was on the verge of tears. Truly, her own eyes were brimming with moisture, but she was still too shocked to spill them onto her cheeks. She had the odd sense of being inside a dream- things familiar and horrific at the same time. Her house, only blackened and burnt. Her servants only- her stomach lurched- dead. Her fields.....

"Stay." She said sharply to Marcus, as she stepped out of the cart and walked toward the house.

Sickness churned in her stomach again as the vomitously sweet scent of death and ashes assaulted her nostrils. She held her skirt up over her nose and mouth, tears finally falling in response to the acrid heat.

Who had done this? Her heart raced. Bandits? Rivals? Barbarians- could they have gotten so far? But there was no word in the towns they had passed! There was no warning.....A slave revolt? Many of her slaves were here...dead.

Paolina continued, like a sleepwalker through the rubble. The wall of the little kitchen garden was crumbling, and she feared, for a moment, that thieves had stolen her savings.          

She dug.

Two bags of gold and silver coins. They were safe. Untouched in the warn earth beneath the ruined jasmine vines...

But if they hadn't come for the money....

Paolina loaded the heavy bags into her apron and, struggling with their weight, walked around the foundation again.

That was when she saw them. Beneath a poplar tree on the edge of the yard.

There were two small graves. Black soil was heaped in rounded mounds overtop. Violets, picked in the nearby field, were lain in bunches atop the little mounds. The little flowers were dry and browning in the sun- Dead, like the bodies beneath the graves they garlanded.

Who had done this? The general's wife thought, looking at the little monuments. Then, turning back toward the ruins of her home, she felt anger rise. Who had done *this*?

"Paolina!"  Atticus' voice brought her back to reality.

She turned. "Who-?"

"Crosses!" He said. She blinked, not realizing the reason for his panic. "Traitors!" He said urgently, and he threw a scrap of black cloth in her direction. "*Praetorians!*" He hissed urgently, already backing toward the little wagon.

Paolina blinked at the black ribbon. Praetorian guards? She remembered them, faintly, from her stay in Rome. They were civil guards. The personal escort and protection force of the emperor and his family. Under the Julio-Claudians, they had been regarded as little more than thugs- assasins and scoundrels who took what they wanted and reigned by fears. Since Vespasian, however, they had been held in tighter check. Dangerous, yes- their powers were so limitless...but lawless....

She was still frowning at the black ribbon when she stepped into the shadow of the first cross. Crosses- an execution for a traitor. Her stomach tightened. Crosses. Praetorians. Traitor. Emperor.....Maximus! Maximus was with the emperor. Had he done something to....No, that was impossible. Even she had seen how much the ruler esteemed her husband and how much Maximus loved the old man. Still....

Paolina ran back toward the wagon.

"Take us to the inn, Atticus." She said, quickly.

"But, Selene, I-!"

"Now...we must catch a coach first thing in the morning." At least she had her money..Thank the gods she had her money...and the clothes they had packed for their journey. Paolina hugged her son tightly as she slid into the seat beside him,  praying he would not sense her fear.

"Where are you going?"

"To Germania....I must find Maximus." Please gods, let me find him.

The cart jerked forward, starting back down the little lane.

Finally, as the charred remains of the farm dissappeared behind her, Paolina wept.

 

*****

"Sir?"

Quintus looked up from his desk to acknowledge the black clad Praetorian who stuck his head inside the tent. He fought the feeling of revulsion in his stomach- Vultures! Playing at soldier...- how would he ever come to accept that these were now his men? The legions, under the command of the ever-pliable Valerius were being recalled to Rome. He was now Prefect of the Praetorian guards. The second most powerful man in Rome- the reward of a "loyal" man.

"What is it?" Quintus snapped.

"The escort that you sent away with.....with...the general -"

"Yes?"

Quintus felt his heart hammering  in his chest. The escort was over three days late in its return. Though he had no love for their mission, confirmation of Maximus' death had been agonizingly slow.

"They...they're dead, sir."

"Maximus?" Quintus swallowed, a little frightened to speak the words outloud.

"All of them."

Quintus' breath left in a rush. "All of them...?" was it possible? He had sent four of his finest men.

"All except....." The guard shifted his weight. "They didn't find the body of...of..."

"Of the general." Quintus said quickly.

"No sir."

A strange mixture of terror and excitement iced through the Praefect's veins.

"It looks like a barbarian raid, sir....a small party, perhaps...maybe deserters from the battle."

Quintus nodded numbly, hopes dimming somewhat.

"Shall we send another search party, sir?"         

"No."

"I will tell the emperor that-"

"No!" Quintus said forcefully, rising from his chair.

"But he wanted the body to-"

"He has changed his mind. "Quintus' heart was beating rapidly. It was a long shot...but it was still hope. Oh, please be alive, my friend. And please, have the sense never to show your face again.

 

47

           

Paolina's bones ached from travelling. In the seat beside her, Marcus was dozing off again. The weight of his head was comforting as it crushed against her shoulder. At last, the hills and valleys were growing familiar- they were the hills of her youth. Soon, she would be home, in her beloved Gaul.

Atticus did not want to let her go in Germania to find Maximus and Paolina knew he was right, that area was still too dangerous for a woman to travel alone. So they had decided to stop in Gaul and made enquiries about the army. It was already winter and some of the legions had certainly returned to the base camp near her old village.

 

*****

 

Finally, after more than three weeks of travel, the wagon stopped in the courtyard of her old home. The rest of her family -- alerted by the message Atticus had sent using doves -- was gathered there, ready to receive her and Marcus with open arms and  to offer them all the support they could.

After the last of her brothers and sisters in law had embraced them, Paolina and her son entered the house they had seen for the last time three years before. The familiar rooms had beneficial effects on their nerves and the boy smiled for the first time upon seeing again his old room...some of his toys were still there, forgotten when they had packed for Hispania, included a wooden horse he immediately picked up and pressed to his chest. Seeing he was all right, Paolina left him alone and walked to her bedroom, the one she had shared first with Aelia and then with Maximus, but the sign of the bed -- recalling to her mind memories of so many happy nights in her husband's arms-- brought new tears in her eyes. She walked around the room, touching the walls, running her fingertips along the furniture and opening the chests where the dresses were kept......In one of them she found the white long shirt of linen that Maximus used to wear in bed then the nights were too cold to sleep naked as he usually did. She picked it up with trembling hands, and even if she knew the cloth had been washed before being folded and put away, she could swear it still retained her husband's smell. Paolina walked backward to the bed, sat on it and pressing the linen to her face she asked to the empty room, "Where are you, Maximus?"

 

*****

 

The news of the Emperor's death travelled well in advance of his son's arrival, and uncertainty gripped the city. Only two days after news of Commodus' ascendency, Marius, a well-known critic of the prince- fell ill at a dinner-party and died.

The physicians said it was  a heart-attack.

The fearful said it was an omen.

The truly worried said it was murder.

Although they had nothing upon which to base their fears, such a sudden, unexpected change held everyone's nerves on edge.

Added to the paranoia that was de riguer among the elite, Aelia had further reason to fear: Quintus.

She had not heard from him in weeks. Her letters to Paolina, her cousin- sent by private courier at hideous expense- had also gone unanswered.        

Aelia knew that the Emperor had died at the very place where her husband and Maximus were encamped. Were they in trouble? Were the rumors about Marius true, and had her husband and her cousin's met a similar fate? It was torture to go about her daily life, acting as though nothing were amiss, but Aelia felt the absences acutely. There was no one to protect her here- her grandfather was now so frail and feeble that he was rarely presented to visitors, and completely removed from public life. Senator Clarus was sympathetic, but had fears of his own. Aelia was forced to watch over her home, her holdings, and her children by herself- with no male entree into the circles of gossip to keep her informed.

 

*****

           

Aelia was sitting at the desk in her husband's study one afternoon, reviewing figures from their accounts when her worst fears were realized.

"Praetorians!"

Aelia looked up sharply. The little maid standing in the doorway was pale as a ghost. Her dark eyes seemed twice their usual size. "My lady- at the door they...."      

"Get the children!" Aelia said sharply, rising to her feet. Her blood flowed like ice through her veins. In the preceeding weeks, the sight of the black-clad imperial guards had taken on a sinister undertone. Again, there were no facts- only rumors, but she sensed that their arrival could mean nothing good.

"Are you sure they are at *our* door?" She asked, her heart hammering.

"Yes, my lady...the Prefect. He-"

Aelia swallowed. "Get the children." She said again.

Aelia hurried to the atrium, hoping agianst hope that her servant had been wrong, but the black-plumed helmet on the head of the stranger that stood in her atrium was unmistakable. Aelia stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the man, fighting the weakness in her knees that would not let her move forward. He was facing away from her, his posture erect and calm. He ran a hand over one of the family busts- the bust of her grandmother that stood just beside the family shrine. The possessiveness of the action clenching her gut in fear. Was he here to claim her house? Was Quintus-?

"Aelia."

Her breath left in a shudder, momentarily confused by the familiar voice coming from the unfamiliar figure. "Aelia!" He knees gave way at last. It was Quintus! *Her* Quintus dressed as captain of the Praetorian guards....but how?

 

*****

 

"Paolina?" Paolina turned, letting the shirt drop to the floor. "Yes?" It was her brother. "What is it?"

"We've found a soldier from the camp."

She puzzled, why had he said it so oddly. "A soldier?"

"Yes....the legions have been withdrawn to Italy, but this man remained behind."

She continued to frown. "But, why-"

"He should tell you himself." Her brother's eyes were wary, and she could sense tears behind them. "He's downstairs."

With a deep sense of foreboding, Paolina followed him into the hall.      

The soldier at the foot of the stairs was closer to a boy than a man. His head was wound in a dirty bandage, and scar seemed to croisscross every inch of his skin. He seemed fearful to see Paolina- but happy as well.

"Lady Maxima." He said, falling into a low bow at her appearance. He kissed the hem of her skirt as though she were an empress.

"Yes?" She shivered, unsettled by the action.

"You're alive!"

Why shouldn't I be? She thought, and then she urged him to stand. "Rise..."

Doing as he was bidden, the soldier took a chair.

"You knew my husband?" She asked, wanting to skip the preliminaries.

"Yes ma'am. I've served in the Felix since I was fifteen."

"Did he..." Her voice grew soft. "Did he survive the battle?"

"Yes."

Her fingers unclenched at last, a faint smile tugging at the edge of her lips. "Oh, thank the Gods..." she breathed softly. "And he was present when...when...." Paolina had learned on the road what had happened to Marcus Aurelius. Though it was, officially, a secret- it was the sort of secret that could not be hidden long. She was sad- she had genuinely liked the old man- but also relieved. If the emperor was dead- and had died at the very camp where Maximus was in charge- it was logical that he would be caught up in work, and unable to send her word. Perhaps there was hope after all...Then again, that didn't explain the fire....Paolina pushed the thoughts aside, concentrating on the hopefulness of learning his fate during the battle.

"I heard that he spoke with Marcus Aurelius alone that very day...but I'm sure that it isn't true..."

"What?" She puzzled.

"The stories...the rumors...his son said....his son said that the emperor might have been poisoned- that Maximus meant to claim the throne for himself and to use us to-"

"Maximus? Emperor?" Paolina's breath left in a rush. Beside her, her brother fit the pieces of the grim puzzle together, and he looked to his wife in alarm. The silence, the crosses, the smoke....

Paolina had not yet made the connection. "That's ridiculous." She said. "Where is he? I must speak to him."

"My lady!" The boy said, looking to the other man for assistance. "You know...surely...but...."

His arms flailing weakly by his side, he finally took a breath and met her eyes. "General Maximus is dead. He was executed on the Emperor's orders the day after Marcus Aurelius- death- as a traitor to the empire."

 

*****

 

"Quintus!" Aelia wanted to rush in his arms but his appaereance, his menacing black and purple clothes stopped her, so she walked instead. Quintus removed his helmet and gave it to a silent servant that immediately disappear with it leaving them alone.

"Aelia." he repeated opening his arms wide and beckoning her there. He needed to feel her softess and her warmth against him, needed it so badly.... He needed to reassure himself about the choice he had made in Germania.

Aelia pressed herself against her husband, putting her arms around his back.

"Oh darling, you are finally here." she whispered happy.

"Yes." he replied simply, kissing her hair.

After several moments, Aelia stepped back at arms length and said, "Let me look at you." Her eyes paused on his pale face, on his unsmiling lips and tormented eyes. He seemed so tired....so exhausted. "I missed you so much." she added, caressing his cheek.

Quintus took her hand and kissed it gently. "I too missed you. The prospect to see you and the children again has been the only thing which kept me sane in the last month."

Aelia frowned, not understanding. Quintus sighed. During the travel from Germania he had decide to tell her about Maximus and Paolina as soon as he could, certain that she would immediately surmise something was wrong with him. But he would never tell her of his role in the whole affair, he didn't have the courage to do so. However now that  the moment to speak had arrived,  he was not able to find the right words. He sighed again.

Aelia watched her husband with concern. Something was tormenting him badly and he had the same faraway look he had the day -- almost ten year before -- he had come to tell her farewell because his father had not granted him the permission to marry her. That devasted look had been impressed in her mind for so long and she knew she would never forget it. So she braced herself and asked, "What happened Quintus?"

He blinked and thought, So she had already sensed it. I must do it now. "It concerns Maximus..." he began hesitantely.

Aelia paled. "Was he...Was he killed in battle? Is this the reason why I can't communicate with Paolina....is she mourning?" she asked with a trembling voice.

Quintus bit his lower lip and went on, "It is worse than that Aelia. Maximus was accused of treason and excuted. And Paolina and Marcus....they....they....You know how the law is..."

Aelia was too shocked to utter a single word.

Paolina...Marcus...Maximus...all dead. Truly Commodus' reign had begun in the worst possible way. Her brain wanted to formulate questions, to ask how and why all this happened but her broken heart stopped her from speaking. She threw herself in Quintus' arms and cried until he had no more tears to shed, never raising her head from his chest and thus never seeing the haunted look in her husband's eyes.

 

*****

 

Paolina saw the room spin around her as the words sank in and then she screamed, a horrible, wounded cry born from the deepest part of her body. Her brother moved quickly and wrapped her in his arms, pressing her head against his shoulder to smolder her sobs and cries.

She barely noticed as the soldier was dismissed and her brother, after whispering some words to his wife, carried her to her room. She awoke several hours later. The room was almost completely dark, and the house was silent. Paolina's muscles ached from sobs, and her throat felt parched.

She was lying on her stomach on the bed. Turning her head slightly, she saw the linen shirt that she had left lying on the floor.

Maximus, dead. It was impossible. She felt her stomach clench for a fresh round of crying, but no tears came. She was tapped out, emotionally and physically. All that she could do was stare.

It made sense now, of course. The victims of the crosses, whomever they might have been- she suspected the poor groundskeper's wife and her little son, they had not been among the bodies she had seen- should have been herself and Marcus. Only a lucky twist of fate had made them absent that day. Icy fear snaked through Paolina's veins as she pictured what might have been if she and her son had been at home. Her husband was disgraced. As punishment, not only was he killed, but his line was extinquished.

Dead.

Paolina still could not reconcile the word to her heart. How had she not sensed it? Not felt .... something? They were so close that, at times, Paolina felt connected, even when they were apart. There were bright, starlit evenings when she would look at the sky and see her husband clearly in her mind, doing the exact same thing, thinking of her. How could he be gone...be dead, and her not know it...?

She also needed to know why it had happened...Steeling herself for what she must do, Paolina pulled on her cloak.

 

*****

 

Her brother had told the truth. The army camp was almost deserted. It looked as it had long ago, when the legions had moved north, leaving only brown, trampled grass and sketchy roads behind. The Praetorium that had been the center of the camp was dismantled, and only a few tents remained. They looked, in general, run-down and empty. The occupants clearly realised that they were now on the fringe of the empire. No one was watching and there was, therefore, no reason to keep up appearances.

Paolina ignored the few, feeble hoots that greeted her arrival to the camp. She no longer cared what her reputation was like- she only cared about getting answers. She poked her head boldly into the tents until she found the man who had come to the cottage earlier in the day.

"Lady Maxima!" he whispered, pulling the tentflap tightly closed and looking shaken. "You shouldn't be here!" nervousness saturated his voice. "If they find you..."

"They aren't looking for me." She snapped. "As far as the emperor knows, Marcus and I are dead."

"Why are you here?"

"I want answers."

"I told you....the general is-"

"I want to know how he died....why...."

"The Praetorians said that he was plotting to kill Commodus, that the emperor was-"

"Then it was Commodus who gave the order?"

"The Praetorians...someone...I suppose it was the emperor...."

Briefly, Paolina thought of Aelia. "What of General Clarus...is he dead as well?"

"No, my lady...at least, I have not heard of it."

Paolina frowned, the thought sitting poorly in her mind. Quintus and Maximus were friends- how could one be accused and not the other?

"Where is my husband buried?" She said suddenly, returning to business.

The man shrugged. Clearly, he expected her to burst into tears at any moment. Her new-found calm was disarming. "I don't know...they didn't want us to know....and besides, the rumor was that the men sent to execute him were attacked by barbarians in the woods."

Paolina tilted her head. Something seemed odd about the statement.      "Barbarians?"

"Yes. The men they sent never returned....at least, that was what they told us rankers..."

Hope began to beat again in Paolina's heart. Perhaps Maximus wasn't dead after all- at least, there was no proof... "Which way did they ride?"

"Northwest, I think....far from Vindobona, far from here.. My lady you can't be thinking-"

"No...I am not going to go by myself..." She frowned thinking through her options.         *If* Maximus were still alive, he would surely head home and- Her breath came out in a little cry....The mounds beside the poplar tree- he *had* been home...the violets...Oh, she was certain it was him. He had come for her...but the groundskeeper's wife-- Paolina felt overwhelmed again as the images flooded through her mind. Maximus riding home to find her...desperate to save herself and their son, only to find the blackened house and the corpses....and they had been burned. Were they recognizable? Marcus and the other boy were nearly the same size- only the eye color was different ...and the resemblance between herself and the servant was pronounced...even Aelia had been confused. Surely, Maximus hadn't thought-

But he had. Paolina's eyes filled with tears as she considered, corpses blackened beyond recognition- how easy it would be for Maximus to believe that his wife and son had been executed. She pictured him- exhausted and hopeless- digging their little graves...using the ends of his strength to forage flowers from the blackened fields to garland their tombs...Oh, Maximus. Paolina felt her heart surge with love for him.

"My lady?"

Paolina looked up. "Thank you." She slipped a gold coin to the man. "I must go."

She departed without another word, leaving the man staring after her.

Rome. She would find Aelia...and Quintus- they would have the answers she needed. Surely Maximus, if he were still alive, would think the same thing. Maximus. Paolina felt her heart tighten again.

"I still believe". She thought, with all her heart, praying that Maximus could somehow hear her. "I will find you." She whispered into the darkness of night. "I will find you, I swear...."

 

*****

           

Aelia took Quintus' hand and led him along the marble covered hallways to the nursery. Her grief momentary put aside, she wanted to show to her husband his two sons, whom he had never seen because they had been born two months after his last visit. Quintus followed her eagerly, wanting to forget what had happened in Germania and the lie he had just told to his wife.

They reached the nursery and Aelia opened the door slowly. It was just afternoon and the children often napped after lunch. Her predictions were right and Aelia turned to Quintus, putting a finger on her lips and whispered, "Shhh, they are sleeping."

Her husband nodded and followed her inside.

The room was darkened but he could clearly see two almost identical little faces sleeping quietly in two small beds. Quintus bent his head on the side and without looking away whispered to Aelia, "Which one is Titus and which one is Appius?"

Aelia smiled upon hearing his tone, it was so full of awe. "The one nearer to you is Titus."

"Oh." he contemplated the little boy who was sleeping with a stuffed doll pressed on his chest. His hair was the same color of his mother's but the tiny face did not look like Aelia. As if she was reading his mind she said, "Your mother told me they look as you did when you were their age."

Quintus felt pride surge inside himself...and love, so much love. He wanted to embrace both the children but he knew he had to be patient. They had never seen him before and waking them in the middle of their sleep would only result in him scaring them.

Once more Aelia seemed to sense his mood and taking his hand again, she led him outside the nursery, to a door that opened just in front. She opened it and smiled seeing that Clara was awake.

They entered the room and the child turned. Her blue eyes widened as she saw the strange man all covered in black. Who are you? she seemed to ask and then looked to her mother.

"Come here Clara...come and greet your tata."

"Tata?" asked the child, looking at him with penetrating eyes.

Quintus felt uneasy, he had not imagined that his daughter might have forgotten him. Aelia squeezed his hand in reassurance and whispered, "Bend down, it will be easier for her."

Quintus did as he was told and Clara began to walk in his direction, stopping again to stare intently at his face. Suddently she smiled and for Quintus the room seemed to be filled with new light and warmth. "I remember you!" said Clara excited, "I remember this thing!" and she reached out her hand to touch the scar he had on his forehead. Quintus widened his arms and Clara threw herself agaist him. He picked her, stood up and swurled her around, "My little princess, how tall you have become!"

"Tata! You too are bigger!"

Quintus burst in laughter, joined by Aelia, and  then covered Clara's face with kisses. Oh Gods, how wonderful was to be back home! He held his daughter very tightly, lifting her into the air and swinging her slightly, smiling as her laughter slowly faded into a yawn.

"Your brothers are asleep and It is time for your nap as well." Aelia stated, taking the child from her father and consigning her again to her nurse. "Tata will be here later." She added, hoping to cheer the sad little face.

After the child was tucked into her bed, Aelia and her husband continued down the hall. She arched an eyebrow when Quintus stopped outside their chamber door.

He smiled at her shyly, and then drew her close, whispering against her neck."Tell me Aelia...is it your bedtime too?"

 

*****

 

The hours they had shared in the bedchamber had been tender and passionate, but there was an air of desperation to Quintus' actions as well. His kisses and caresses has been so possessive...as though he no longer believed that she existed...or that she could love him....

When Aelia awoke, several hours later, the bed beside her was empty. She drew the blankets around her bare skin, reaching toward the pillow which  still bore the indention from her husband's head. Where was he? Visiting her grandfather? Catching up on accounts while she slept? She wished that she could shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 

48

 

Against her brothers' wishes, Paolina left for Rome the next day. The men, dismissing Paolina's hopes as the fancy of a grief-stricken mind, begged her not to go. If Commodus found her, she would be killed- even if he did not find her, she could not afford to stay away long. She had only the money that she had hidden in the garden. Her lands, and bank holdings had been proscribed. If Aelia would not take her in- or if Aelia and Quintus were dead- she would not have the money to return.

 In the end, she was, at least, persuaded to leave Marcus behind. He would be safe with his uncles- blending in with their own vast tribes of boys and girls that spilled out of the little house from every doorway. Marcus would be happy with his nieces and nephews. Though he was still upset by the alleged death of his father- Paolina had forbidden that he be told, but he had discovred it nevertheless- he did not know the man well enough to fully mourn. The laughter and warmth of his extended family would preserve his joyous nature.

Paolina was frightened as she stepped into the hired coach. She had never been on such a long journey alone before. As the little house dissappeared onto the horizon, she found herself wishing she had accepted one of her brother's offer to accompany her. What if they were attacked by bandits on the road? What if the driver were really a thief? What if-?

"Stop it." Paolina warned herself. There was no sense worrying. Her mission could not be delayed. Closing her hand around the little dagger tucked within her stola, she took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

           

Rain delayed her journey. It was nearly two weeks later before they came out of the Alps and turned on the final Road that led to Rome. Paolina was amazed at the richness of the gently rolling hills. Huge yellow flowers swayed beneath the sun. Their seeds were pressed for oil in the fall, and could be eaten as well. Their lovely, sunny hue was shockingly beautiful against the vivid blue sky. The world seemed deceptively peaceful and calm.

 

*****