Love and Duty
The days slipped past quickly, and Aelia finally realized
that Quintus had been home for more than a month. She rarely saw him anymore.
Since the day that Commodus had returned- in a mock-triumph that made her grandfather
rage- he had rarely been at home. When he was, his moods were dark and
cheerless. Aelia felt as though her
heart was breaking. She knew, without being told, that Quintus was plagued by a
terrible secret that he refused to share. He still loved her, she was certain
of it, but he would not accept the comfort of her love in return. She did not
know how to make him change.
Quintus still
made love to his wife - seeming more a physical release than an act of
tenderness- but Aelia always awoke alone. Sometimes he was gone for days- the
only reminder of his existence was the growing certainty- and accompanying
physical ills- of a child once again sheltering within her womb.
Commodus' reign of terror had begun. Slowly, vocal
proponents of a Republic found themselves ill or exposed. The sight of the
Praetorian guards had become a cause for fear. Though Aelia knew, logically,
that her husband could not be ignorant of the atrocities carried out by his
men, her heart refused to reconcile the gentle man that she loved with the
campaign of fear waged against the upper classes. Had he truly changed so much?
She longed to speak with him- to gather the courage to confront him about the
things that we going on. That night, she was to dine with him at the palace. The
party would continue late into the
night, and she would stay there in a room. Hopefully, she would be finally able
to speak with him.
*****
At last Paolina reached the great city. The driver
stopped outside the city gate. Horses were not allowed within the city walls by
day. Paolina could not risk hiring a litter- she needed to remain as incognito
as possible. She hoped that she could find Aelia's house. On foot, the city
seemed to stretch on endlessly in every direction. She was frightened by the
noise and crowds within the bustling city.
During her sojourn in the capital, she had been shielded from the great
hive of humanity that swarmed through the narrow streets. To a country girl,
frightened and uncertain of her moves- and
painfully aware of the fact that she carried every cent
she owned on her body- the site was unsettling.
She walked forward along the main road, hoping to find
the city center. She knew that Aelia lived on the Viminal hill, and she knew
that it was near the forum. If she could make it therem she would be allright.
Paolina trudged onward for what seemed like hours,
fighting panic as the sun peaked in the sky and slowly began its descent. She
had heard too often the horrors of Rome at night- she had to find Aelia's
quickly! Paolina quickened her pace, asking a fruit seller for directions
again, and breathing a sigh of relief to realise that she was not far off
course. She bought an apple from the woman in thanks- smiling a bittersweet
smile as she remembered the fruit that she had dropped in the road so many
years ago. At last, she stepped into a clearing that she remembered. Aelia's
house was not far now....
Paolina shivered as she stepped into a deep shadow. A man
walking near her thrust a paper into her hand so firmly that she jumped,
relaxing only when she read the sheet. Gladitorial games. She looked up, then
shivered again. It was the Colosseum that blocked the sun- a huge arena where
fights and executions were staged for sport. Paolina had heard her cousin speak
of such things with distaste- and heard her husband compliment Marcus Aurelius
for ending such savagery. She studied the flier in her hands...were they to start again?
Finding the road she wanted, Paolina began to climb up a
high hill, her tired calves straining with effort and her feet, raw from the
chafing straps of her leather sandals, burning with every step. At last,
Paolina spied the simple, blank wall with the bronze plate that marked the
Claudian mansion.
She had made it. Most of the pedestrians in the
neighborhood were richly attired- fine ladies in litters and togate senators
and knights. Even the servants seemed polished, and they looked at the stranger
with suspicion. Paolina stopped in the
street and looked despairingly at the
simply muslin shift and plain woolen shawl that she wore. She had not seen a
mirror for days- the inns that they had stopped in were simply not the sorts of
establishments to provide such niceties- she could sense that her cheeks
were sunken from hunger and stress, and her lovely curls
were frizzy and wild. What to do? She could hardly appear on the doorstep of a
great lady without raising suspicion.... Not the front doorstep anyway...Slowly
a plan formed in Paolina's mind. By the
time she reached the house, it had been set into motion.
"May I help you?" The sour-looking housekeeper
who answered the back door was familiar to Paolina, but the woman did not
recognize her.
"Yes." Paolina's heart hammered in her chest.
"Is the lady of the house at home?"
The housekeeper frowned. "She is currently
indisposed."
Paolina's stomach tightened with worry. "She should
be execting me...I'm....the servant that she ordered for the children."
The look darkened. It was clear to see the woman's
thought process. She clearly believed that Paolina was an escaped slave- or
worse- trying to sneak into the home for a meal and shelter, or perhas to
steal. The door started to close. Paolina wedged her foot in the door.
"Please- tell her I'm for the fourteen
children."
"What?" The woman tilted her head. "There
are only three."
"Yes, I know." Paolina's voice was exasperated.
"Clara, Titus and Appius...but she wanted me for the fourteen.....please.
"Her voice grew desperate. "Give her the message. She'll be angry if
you do not."
The servant hesistated for a moment, and at last, with a
shrug, she gave in. The woman had known the children's names, after
all..."Wait outside. "She said firmly, shutting the door with a heavy
thud.
Paolina settled onto the back step as she awaited the
woman's return. Time seemed to pass very slowly. Would Aelia figure out the
clue? Paolina felt as though she were drowning in fear when the woman returned.
"She will see you." The maid seemed surprised
by what she was saying.
Relief played clearly on the younger woman's features.
Collecting her small bag, she followed the woman into the house.
Paolina had never seen the network of corridors used by
the servants to walk from room to rom without disturbing the family. It was
oddly unsettling to think of the slaves and hired help scurrying behind the
walls like insects. Still the passageways were useful in such a large home-
they existed just outside a small screen leading to Aelia's dressing room. She
was sitting in front of a mirror while a Grecian maid styled her hair.
The housekeeper did not announce their presence- she
waited for the mistress to turn and acknowledge them, and so Paolina had a
chance to observe her cousin first hand. She seemed to be preparing for a
party- her coiffure was an elaborate style, and her face was already expertly
tinted with cosmetics. A lovely, seafoam green tunica and gold-embroidered
stola was draped across a nearby rail.
Paolina coughed, earning glares from her escort and the
stylist for her bad manners. It was effective however, Aelia turned and almost
screamed as she saw her. Her hand flow to her mouth to suffocate her cry and
she walked slowly and cautiously to Paolina. Aelia reached out a hand and
touched her cousin's tired face. It was cold because of the climate but it was
also warm...alive.
Tears pooled in her eyes and, after dismissing the
servant with a gesture of her hand, with a shaky grin she enfolded Paolina in
her arms.
"Oh, cousin! Paolina...Selene..I can't still believe
you are alive!! I thought you dead...I mourned you....How is this possible?"
With a trembling voice Paolina told her briefly what
happened, omitting only the fact she believed Maximus still alive and when she
had finished her story, she buried her face in her cousin's shoulder, happy to
find human confort after so many frightened and lonely days.
Neither of them knew how much time they passed hugged to
each other but in the end they slowly separated and Aelia asked, "Why are
you here?"
All the joy seemed to left Paolina at once as her face
hardened, "I am here to speak with Quintus about Maximus....I need to know
exactly what happened in Germania."
Aelia nodded. She too would the same if their parts were
reversed. "I understand."
"Where is he?"
"He is not here. Tonight we are having dinner in the
imperial palace...I must leave shortly."
"Oh." Paolina's voice sounded disappointed, she
was not ready to stay alone so soon.
Aelia squeezed her hand, "Don't worry, I will return
soon. In the meantime I will have the servants prepare a meal and a bed for
you."
The other woman nodded. She was hungry and exhausted, and
emotionally spent. "All right. Thank you."
"Good, it is settled." Aelia walked to the door
to give orders to the slaves awaiting outside, when she stopped, a sudden idea
coming to her mind. She returned to her cousin and said, "Listen Paolina,
I think it would be better for all of us if the servants believe you to be my
personal maid or something like that. If they knew you are a guest they would
be curious and might discover your identity and diffuse it outside...In this city
the news flies...especially now." She concluded, thinking to the horde of
spies working for Commodus.
Paolina smiled, "Don't worry, Aelia, I will do
everything to ensure your family's safety. Do you need a new maid? Well, my
lady, you had just found her!" And she bowed deeply.
*****
Paolina helped Aelia finish getting ready, and then she
went to the little chamber near her cousin's bedroom that the slaves had
prepared. She was amazed that the slaves- so familiar to Paolina- did not seem
to recognize her, but she was relieved as well. She could see the strain in her
cousin's pretty face, and noticed how quiet and dim the house seemed- so unlike
the time that she had visited with Livia. Only now could she appreciate how far
the young emperor's shadow fell. She was thankful that she, and her son, were
momentarily safe.
No duties had been assigned to Paolina, so she had the
evening to herself.
She wished that she could walk in the orderly gardens
outside the house, but she knew that it was an inappropriate activity for a
"servant". Besides, it was getting dark and chilly- she would do
better to stay at home.
Aelia's chambers were empty, save Paolina, and so she
decided to take advantage of the private bath and polished mirror to clean away
the grime of her travel and smooth her hair back into some semblance of order.
After all, even a ladies' maid had to look presentable. She soaked in the
marble tub for many long hours, relishing the feel of tension seeping from her
muscles, and then she dried in a soft towel and braided her hair.
When she returned to her room, a dinner tray was sitting
on her bed. The fare was simple, but filling- a delicious stew and some hard
rolls still warm from the oven. Feeling better than she had in days, Paolina
took a scroll from Aelia's beside and then crawled into her little bed.
She tried to read, but her thoughts were suddenly
overwhelmed with a vision of Maximus. He seemed very close to her now. Although
she knew that it wasn't possible, it felt as though he was with her in the
strange city, longing for her as much as she wished for him. She closed her
eyes, dropping the scroll, losing herself in memories of his soft, blue eyes
feeling more certain than ever that he were still alive. Finally, she drifted
off to sleep.
*****
Sitting in the wonderful triclinium of the imperial
palace Aelia found herself wishing for the upteenth time that the servants were
faster on serving the food, so she could leave that place soon. Around the
table the air was so tension loaded that you could have cut it with a knife.
Commodus sat at the head of the long table, with Lucilla at his right and
Quintus at his left. Aelia was sitting in front of her husband, while other
guest completed the scene.
Caesar seemed in good spirits, making jocks and speaking
enthusiastically of the gladiatorial games he was organizing.
"......and the best as yet to come! Just today
arrived a new shipment of gladiators from Africa, and one of them is considered
the best one that area has ever produced. The funny thing is they call him 'The
Spaniard', and not 'The African'!" Commodus seemed to believe that joke
was extremely funny and the rest of the table forced laughter.
Caesar drank some wine then turned to Aelia and changing
completely subject he said, "Lady Clara, how are your children
doing?"
She was surprised by the question but she replied
promptly, "They are fine, Caesar; thank you for your interest."
Commodus threw a side glance to Quintus and added,
"I think you should take your oldest daughter here to the palace to play
with my nephew, Lucius. I believe they are almost the same age."
Aelia looked to her husband and felt a shiver run along
her spine as she saw him pale. They exchanged a look and he imperceptibly
nodded with his head.
"Ah...It will be an honour, Caesar."
"Good."
Another course was served and the table fell silent.
Aelia looked to her left, distracted by a strange
movement and noticed for the first time how Lucilla's hands trembled. She
raised her eyes and saw how pale and tired the other woman looked. Sensing that
she was being observed, the Augusta turned to Aelia and gave her a small smile.
A sad smile, completely different from the ironic and sarcastic ones Aelia
remembered from their past meetings, and Aelia understood that the reign ofterror
in which all the city was now living touched the emperor's sister too. She felt
another shiver, as she realized nobody was really safe.
49
Aelia did not return that night- the lateness of the
dinner party had forced them to stay at the palace- but Paolina was awoken
early by the booming voice of the housekeeper.
The children's nurse had fallen ill shortly after dinner,
and there was no one home to take charge of the children. Since Paolina had no
other occupation, the task fell to her. Paolina was excited to see her niece
again, and to meet her nephews for the first time. She fought a sense of
disappointment that Clara did not recognize her, but admitted it was
understandable- the child was barely walking when last they met. Paolina was
surprised at how tall the little girl had become- almost as big as Marcus- and
how much she resembled her mother in aspect and in deed. Though only seven
years old, her manners were already very precise. With her tiny stola stuck
under her arms, she seemed like a miniature matron, glowering at her unruly
brothers.
Clara's school- though she had a tutor of her own, she
attended classes occasionally to mix with other students- was at the foot of
the hill, near the square where Paolina had been the day before. The day was
bright and shining. After Clara had been consigned to her instruction, Paolina
allowed the boys to linger in the busy marketplace. In the background, the
Colosseum dominated the skyline. It was less sinister by light of day, when the
lively cries of the crowd carried down from the sky.
"Giraffes!" One of the boys- Titus?- called,
breaking free of lady Maxima's hand. He ran toward a high iron fence behind
which the exotic animals chewed leaves slowly circled their pen.
Paolina hurried after him, tugging Appius after.
"Don't get to close!" She said, reaching for him to stop. There was
already a crowd around the fence.
"Back!"
Paolina's heart skipped a beat as one of the black-clad
Praetorian's snapped at the gathering. For a moment, her breath stopped,
expecting him to recognize her and order her arrest- but then she saw what
happened, and gasped. The onlookers had drawn back from the fence- but Titus
remained. He pointed a plump finger at
the strange African mammal, and asked the guard questions as though they were
friends. Gradually, Paolina's courage returned, and she led Appius to the fence
as well.
"Nice day." the Praetorian commented to her
casually, looking her over as if he were sizing her up for a date.
Paolina shivered. "Yes." She said
blankly....she bit her lip. "Is it okay if they...."
The man smiled, flashing a set of unusually white and
even teeth. "Of course...."
She fought the urge to frown. What was going on? At last,
she remembered Aelia saying that Quintus had joined the Praetorian guard. She
had not registered the significance of the remark at that time. Dinner at the
palace.... Paolina's frown became even more pronounced. Was he an officer? If
that were so, then he *must* know what had happened to Maximus.
Maximus.
Paolina sucked in her breath, whitening as though she had
just seen a ghost. Across the yard, she saw a man who looked like his very
image- tanner, perhaps, and with a longer beard and hair but-
"..escort you home? - Ma'am?"
Paolina turned her head to acknowledge the Praetorian,
annoyed that her attention had been distracted. "What?" She snapped.
"I said, I'd be happy to escort you home. You can't
be too careful these days...and I hear that the twins can be quite a
handful."
Paolina smiled non-commitally and then, holding her
breath, turned her gaze back to the yard.
Nothing. Where the man had been standing, there was now
only a patch of dry dust. She scanned the rest of the yard, but could not find
him again. It was a trick of the light...of her lonely heart.
Sighing with frustration, Paolina took each boy by the
hand and then nodded to the guard.
"Thank you, we're on our way home right now..."
*****
Aelia returned home very late the following morning and
went immediately to search for her children. The dinner and the permanence in
the palace had left her with a strange sensation of cold that even the spring
sun had not be able to dissolve. She hoped her children's embrace would do the
magic.
As she entered in the atrium she was assaulted by one her
boys who cried, "Mama!! We saw giraffes!! Their necks are so long!"
Aelia frowned, not understanding then saw Paolina enter the room along with
Appius.
"My lady, I accompanied young Clara to school,"
her cousin said, continuing her ruse of acting as a servant, "and the
little masters came with me."
Aelia smiled. "Good work." She hugged the twins
and then sent them in the nursery where the servants were already waiting to
bathe them and change their clothes.
Paolina followed her cousin to her room, walking some
steps behind her as any respectful servant, until the door was firmly shut
behind their back.
"So, how was the dinner?" Paolina asked, while
helping Aelia to remove her morning dress.
"Very unnerving." she replied sincerely. She
had no need to lie with to cousin about the emperor...not after what the
spoiled boy-man had done to Paolina and her husband. "The atmosphere in
the palace is dark as its master....dark as the Praetorian uniforms..."
her voice died but Paolina had heard her last remark.
"Did you speak with Quintus?" she asked.
"No." Aelia sighed and went on. "After
dinner his presence was requested by the Emperor. He was gone for a hour or so and when he returned he was
so silent and worried that I could not utter a single word. Oh, cousin,
sometimes I think I no longer know him! The is always gentle with me and the
children, but he no longer smiles...he is always away, with his body or his
spirit. And he is so silent and lonely. He has changed so much since he
returned from Germania, it's almost as though a witchful spell has been cast on
him." She speaking, a little embarassed at having laid her troubles on a
woman who had just lost her beloved husband and had a capital sentence hanging over
her head.
Paolina nodded silently then asked, "What is
Quintus' rank within the Praetorian Guards?"
"He is the Prefect of the Praetorium, their supreme
commander."
"And he had covered that position from his return
from Germania?"
"Yes....Why are you asking?"
"Nothing...I was just thinking he CAN'T not know
what happened to Maximus..." Paolina rubbed the bridge of her nose,
"I NEED to speak to him as soon as possible. When will he be home?"
"Tomorrow evening. In the afternoon he must escort
the emperor to the games in the
Colosseum.....I will be there too, Commodus invited me and I can't refuse, even
if I am revolted by that kind of spectacle."
Paolina agreed. She too was disgusted by what went on in
the towering structure.That morning as she lingered near the big anphitheatre
with Titus and Appius she had caught the sweetish smell of blood in the air and
her stomach had rebelled against it. "I don't envy you." she said to
Aelia and then, trying to cheer her up began to tell her about the twin's encounter
with the giraffes.
*****
Aelia seemed only vaguely cheered by the story, clearly,
her mind was elsewhere. She was worried because Clara had not returned from
school yet, and sent a pair of slaves to check on the girl, then went to her
study to wait, leaving Paolina alone.
Paolina was more than a little annoyed by her cousin's
actions. She wanted to ask her advice on how to approach Quintus- wanted to
confide in her what she had seen- what she had *thought* she had seen- at the
gladiator school that morning, but Aelia was too wrapped up in her own problems
to listen.
As if *she* had problems. Paolina was the one who's house
was gone- whose belongings were stolen, whose husband was....She sat down
quickly. No, she wouldn't even think it. Maximus was alive. She knew it.
At least Aelia had control, of sorts. To Paolina's
thinking, as long as Quintus retained his position as head of the Praetorians,
they need never fear the Imperial guards. They *profited* from the suffering in
Rome, even if they complained as loudly as the rest. In some ways, Quintus was
better off than when he had been a general under her husband. He-
No.
Paolina felt her jaw drop slightly as a new thought
crossed her mind. What if Quintus not only knew of Maximus' death- what if he
had been a part of it? It could not be a coincidence that he had been elvated
to such a lofty position- would the emperor really want to place so much trust
in the best friend of a traitor. Paolina felt fresh tears prick at the backs of
her eyes, this time they were hot and angry. Betrayal. She felt her heart
breaking for her husband anew....the treachery!
*****
"Aelia!" Paolina burst into Aelia's sitting
room. Aelia was staring out the window at the street, still watching for her
daughter's return.
"Yes?" She said absently, unable to tear her
eyes away from her vigil.
"I-" What? Would she tell Aelia? Could she even
trust her cousin? Feeling guilty for suspecting her dear friend of conspiracy,
Paolina nevertheless recalled how quickly Aelia had come to her husband's
defense when he had abandoned Maximus to take his post in Judea. Maximus and
Quintus had been competing, nearly neck and neck for years- no doubt Aelia felt
that her husband's superior breeding merited a higher post in the empire....she
too could not be trusted. "I...I think that you should not tell Quintus
that I am here after all." She finished lamely.
"Oh?"
Paolina fumbled for an explanation. "I....It would
be bad if I were discovered her and he could not deny knowledge that I was
here...." Aelia tilted her head, puzzled. "It would...would make him
more nervous..." She added quickly, at last Aelia's features began to
thaw.
"I see."
"Would you ask him?"
"Me?" Aelia's eyes widened. "Paolina I...I
couldn't."
"You must. "
"He'll speak of it when he is ready."
"Aelia-"
"NO!"
Paolina blinked, surprised by the passion in her cousin's
voice. She noticed, as if for the first time, the fine lines around her
cousin's eyes, and the downward cast of her lips. She was wrong to suspect her
cousin- Aelia suffered as much as she only- as was so often the case- much more
quietly than her passionate cousin.
"Oh, Paolina." Aelia said, frantically scanning
the street outside again. "Please understand. I want to help you... but I
am so close to losing him already." Her voice was tight with despair.
"Losing him?" Paolina momentarily forgot her
troubles and laid a comforting hand on the other woman's forearm. "To
who?"
"To himself....oh, Paolina! Something terrible
happened in Germania. Something that he will not tell even me. I have begged
him...but it is no use. He goes deeper and deeper inside himself. He calls the
things that he does "duty"- convinces himself that he must do them to
survive, but in spite of this he hates himself more each day ....oh, Paolina...."
The deep sob that had begun in her chest was cut short as the sound of
bootsteps echoed on the marble outside the chamber. Paolina dove back into her
own little room just before Quintus burst into the room.
"Aelia! " He said quickly. "Where is your
cloak?"
She tilted her head, confused.
"It's the emperor." He said sofly. "We've
been summoned...."
"To the games?" Aelia asked. "Today?"
Quintus nodded numbly. Then, disgust clear in his voice.
"She needs you, Aelia..."
"She?"
"Clara- she's already there."
50
Clara started to cry.
Aelia saw her small shoulders begin to shake and threw a worried glance to
her husband. Quintus never looked at her but kept staring straight ahead, as
Clara sobs increased.
Aelia gathered her child in her arms, pressing her face against her breast
and mentally cursed the Gods. They had been now observing the games for more
than two hours and Clara had, until now, coped well with the cruel spectacle,
because -- by some fortunate happenstance -- all the killing had happened on
the other side of the arena, away from the imperial box and from the innocent
eyes of Clara. The child seemed to not realize what was going on and her
attention was more attracted to the booming crowd in the stands than to the men
fighting on the sand.
Until the last fight.
Until a gladiator beheaded his opponent just in front of the imperial
stand. The vicious swipe of sword made the severed head fly in the air and land
several feet away from the body. Young Clara followed it with rapt fascination
until her brain finally grasped the meaning of what she had just seen. And then
she had started to cry.
Aelia tried again to catch Quintus' attention but he continued to remain
deaf and blind. Clara's sobs and tremors were increasing instead of lessening
and Aelia wanted to take her away from that place of pain and death. But how
could she leave her seat without the Emperor's permission? And how she could
obtain it with Commodus so intent upon the games? Aelia knew she could not
possibly distract Caesar....many persons had been punished for less. So she
stayed silent, hoping that her daughter might calm down on her own. It was then
that Lucilla, who was attending the games with her son, intervened.
She gestured to one of her ladies in waiting and ordered, "Flavia,
take little Clara away from here. Take her on a walk to see the animals- that
should distract her."
The servant bowed to her mistress and did as she was told. Aelia smiled
gratefully to Lucilla, and then looking in Clara's eyes, said, "Go to see
the animals with Flavia, darling, you will like them."
"Come with me...!" Clara pleaded, her eyes full of tears.
"I can't, darling. Now do as I said. We will see each other
soon." Aelia heart's ached upon seeing her daughter's desolate face but
she could not leave her seat.
In the end, even if she was still uncertain, Clara slipped her small hand
in Flavia and left the imperial box.
Aelia closed her eyes, feeling so very tired, wondering what kind of damage
the cruel spectacle had done to her child.
*****
Clara and the lady in waiting walked along the cages looking inside each
one.
There were many types of animals: tigers, lions, giraffes, zebras and even
one elephant and the child stared at them wild eyed. She tried to coax the
zebra to come near her but it stubbornly refused to do so. Clara stepped back
from the fence and turned around. She saw that on the other side of the road
there many other cages and she decided she wanted to see what other animals
were there. Flavia followed her in silence. She had seen the child cry on the
imperial box and she thought the more the little one stayed away from the
games, the better it would be for her.
When she arrived at other side of the square Clara realized the cages did
not hold animals but men. Men of many races and many colors; men with long hair
or completely shaved; men with scarred or heavily painted faces and bodies.
Their looks were fierce and threatening and Clara stepped closer to Flavia,
wanting to return near the cages with the animals. She was almost turning away
then she caught a metallic flash with the corner of her eyes. She stopped and
looked back.
Clara saw a man all alone in a cell. He was sitting on a bench and lain
across his knees he held a piece of black leather armor.
Clara bent her head: in spite of her fear she was curious about the man's
actions and she walked to the cage until her hands touched the iron bars.
The man saw her and raised his face. Clara was relieved to see he was not
like the others she had seen before. He had black hair, a beard and his blue
eyes were gentle and sad. He smiled to her and Clara shyly returned the smile
before saying, "Good afternoon, sir."
The man's smile broadened as he replied, "Good afternoon to you,
little lady."
Clara beamed at the appellation and asked, "What are you doing?"
"I am putting new decorations on my armor."
"Oh. May I see them?"
The man slowly stood up and walked near the bars, sitting again on the
floor. Clara imitated him and, under the watchful eyes of Flavia, knelt down on
the other side of the cage.
The man showed her two silver figurines, a horse and a tree.
Clara reached out a hand and he gave them to her. The child admired the
decorations caressing them with her fingertips. "They are beautiful,"
she said, handing them back to the man.
"Thank you, little lady."
"Do the horses have a name?"
"Yes...I call them Argento and Scarto."
"Uhm, uhm.....and that tree? It seems strange to me..."
The man turned the figurine in his hand. "This is a poplar tree. There
are many of them near my home...."
His voice died in a painful whisper but Clara did not registered it and
with the typical curiosity of children asked again, "Where is your
home?"
"It is...was... in Hispania, very far from here." The man eyes
took a very distant look as the sadness in them increased. This time Clara
sensed the change in his mood but before she could ask why he was so sad a
large man with grey hair and beard entered in the cage.
"Spaniard, come with me. It is time to return in your cell."
The man stood up and Clara did the same.
"It was a pleausure to meet you, little lady. Good bye." he said
bowing his head and smiling a little.
"Good bye to you, Spaniard." replied Clara as the man disappeared
behind a door.
*****
The great villa was enveloped in silence and all of its occupants were in
bed. But not everyone was sleeping.
Paolina tossed around for the umpteeth time but Morfeus (the God of sleep)
would not visit her. She was too troubled to sleep. Her conclusions about
Quintus and what she was almost certain had happened in Germania continued to
torment her. She had been raised to believe in honesty and loyalty and she
could not accept that Quintus, her husband's best friend, might be the reason
of his downfall.
The pieces of the mosaic fit too perfectly to be only coincidences. Paolina
felt as if the walls of her room were closing on her and for the first time she
realized she was not safe in Quintus’ house ....But what could she do? Where
she could go? And....
A terrified scream interrupted her line of thought and she jumped from her
bed, her heart beating wildly. Who was screaming? She opened the door of the
bedroom and look and poked her head in the hallway, straining her ears. The
scream repeated and she realized it came from Clara's room. In few seconds
Paolina crossed the hallway, opened the door and knelt near the child's bed,
gathering her small frame in her arms. The child responded by grabbing her neck
and pressing against her chest.
"Shh, little one, is all finished..." she soothed, "Shhh,
it's only a dream....calm down, Clara, calm down." Paolina caressed the
little back again and again, until Clara stopped trembling. She then gently
pushed the child back on the bed but kept squeezing her hand, to give her
comfort.
Clara smiled shyly to her, happy to have someone near. She was afraid to
return to sleep, afraid she might see the severed head of the gladiator falling
in the sand near her again.
Paolina understood at once. She had her share of nightmares, especially
recently and she knew that the best way to forget them was to think or speak
about something else. So she said to Clara, "I heard at dinner that you
saw an elephant today....I have never seen one, would you like to describe it
to me?"
"Oh...It is so big... and his nose is so long and strange. They call
it... pro....prob.."
"Proboscis?"
"YES! Proboscis! And its legs..you must see its legs, they are big as
tree trunks!" Clara smiled in awe and then suddently asked, "Have you
ever seen a poplar tree?"
Paolina frowned at the sudden change of subject then nodded, "Yes, I
have seen many of them."
"In Hispania?"
"Well...yes..in Hispania. How do you know that?"
"I met a man today that came from Hispania. He was closed in a cage but
he was not so scary like the other ones I saw. He was putting some decorations
on his armor and he showed then to me."
Paolina smiled and encouraged the child to talk, so that she would forget
her nightmare more quickly. "Were they beautiful? The decorations, I
mean."
"Yes. One of them was the poplar tree while the other two were
horses....” She smiled at the memory. “You know, that man had even named them.
One was called Argento and the other Scato.."
"Scarto." Paolina
corrected authomatically, then realized what she had just said and, more
importantly, heard. Argento and Scarto!! Those were the names of Maximus'
battle horses! But how was that possible...how could that man know them?
There was only one possible answer. That man WAS Maximus. Paolina heart
began to race as she asked the final, resolutive question. "Can..can you
describe that man to me?"
Clara nodded. "He was tall, with black hair and beard and blue eyes.
He had a funny mark between his eyes and he was gentle and very sad."
Paolina sighed deeply. Clara's description fit Maximus perfectly.
Her husband was truly alive. And he was a gladiator.
*****
Paolina remained at Clara's bedside for the rest of the
night. What did it hurt her to reassure the child? She would not be sleeping
anyway. Her heart was surging with joy, and it was all that she could manage to
keep her emotions in check and prevent her feet from running through the night
to the Colosseum. Maximus- alive! And so close! She walked to the window, in
the moonlight, she could see the towering form of the arena and, off to the
side, the gladiator school where she had seen her husband the day before.
How would she see him? Her mind raced with activity. She
knew that the gladiators were kept closeted away from their
"fans"...could she buy her way in?
Paolina thought of the little sacks of money that she had
retrieved from the garden. Already they had dwindled to half their size- not
enough to purchase a gladiator, but at least she could see him for one night-
long enough to plot how he would escape.
8
The next morning, Paolina carried breakfast into Aelia's
room. It was an excuse to wake her- she could not bear to keep to herself any
longer. The Praetorian's wife opened her eyes very reluctantly. Paolina could
tell that, unlike her daughter, Aelia found escape in her dreams and did not
wish to leave them.
The pillow beside the woman was indented, and Paolina
worried for a moment that Quintus was still nearby.
Her cousin seemed to read her thoughts. "He is
already gone." She said sadly. "The emperor wanted him to report at
dawn."
The other woman nodded. "Are you joining him again
today?"
Aelia nodded, her features losing their dream-induced
happiness and turning ashen and downcast again. "Of course...the emperor's
wretched games are continuing for weeks more..." she sighed. "At
least Clara will be spared."
Paolina nodded again. "She is going to school?"
"Yes."
"Then you will not need me today?"
Aelia frowned, confused "You have plans?"
"I-" Paolina hesitated. Should she tell her cousin
what she had heard...what she had seen the day before? She would not believe
her, surely...and she might try to prevent Paolina from what she had to do.
"I have some shopping." She said after a long pause. "I thought
I might attend to it, if you do not need me."
"Yes, yes...." Aelia's face relaxed somewhat
and she reached for the breakfast tray, offering some of the ripe fruit to her
cousin. "You know that you are not really my servant. You may do as you
please."
"Thank you." The women shared their meal in
silence, and then Paolina left so that Aelia's maids could begin preparing her
for the day. Aelia's toilette would take several hours, but Paolina had neither
the time, nor the patience for such niceties. She returned to her chamber,
slipped into a pretty, but unremarkable tunica, and twisted her hair into a
long braid that hung down her back. Then, after slipping her feet into her
sandals, she was out back down the hill toward the Colosseum.
*****
Paolina felt awkward as she blended into the crowd. She
seemed surrounded by small groups of friends, coming to see the games together.
It was clear that they were regular patrons who knew precisely what to do- she
decided to follow their example. She reached into her coin pouch as she
approached the gates to retrieve the admission listed on the door, however, she
was waved through without a fee. "Compliments of Commodus!" The
gatekeepers called merrily as the crowds pressed through. "A gift from
your beneficent ruler!"
Paolina attached herself to a small group of provincials
that had gathered just inside the gates and followed them to their seats. They
settled in slowly, arranging little pillows that they had brought and
conversing with each other as they unpacked picnic baskets and shared a small
snack. Her stomach rumbled- the fruit had been delicious, but very small. It
would be hours before she could return home, and she wished that she had
thought to pack something to eat.
In the center of the arena, a trumpet was sounded, and
Paolina was horrified to look up and find that the floor was not empty, as she
had expected. The "preliminary" attractions were underway-
executions, and she recoiled in horror as a man was hewn in two before her very
eyes. The scene continued for about an hour- she was alarmed to find that, very
quickly, she adjusted to what she was seeing- the gore was no longer as
disturbing, her compassion for the victims no longer so acute.
"They'll do hunts next..." The man next to
Paolina leaned toward her , whispering.
"Oh?" She blinked, surprised to be addressed by
a stranger.
"Yes....first time?" Was the man *flirting*
with her? Her reaction must have been palpable, because the man's face broke
into a wide grin and he jerked his chin at the woman beside him. "It's our
first time too...just down for the season from Tolosa."
Paolina could not help but smile. "Oh, I know where
that it- I am from Lungudum."
The little trio conversed quietly. Paolina was almost
glad for the distraction- speaking of home allowed her to avoid paying too much
attention to the spectacle- which had now shifted to armored men tracking and
cruelly killing exotic beasts. It also kept her from worrying too much about
Maximus- she had a feeling that the violence of the events was building, rather
than receeding, and she did not want to think of what he was about to endure.
She did not want to admit that, after clinging to hope for so long, it was
possible that she would come here only to watch him finally die on the arena
sand. There was a brief break at noon, and many members of the crowd filtered
out to place bets on the upcoming matches, or - if they lived close- to return to their homes for a meal. Drusus
and his wife, Amelia shared their lunch with Paolina- simple but hearty fare
that reminded her of home.
Finally, as the crowd (which seemed to have grown during
the break) returned to the seats, there was another trumpet serenade which
announced the arrival of the Emperor himself.
Paolina rose along with the rest of the crowd, but she
did not join their wild cheering. She stared at the man, chilled to the bone by
his deep-set, snake-like eyes and haughty posture. Beside him, she could see
the empress, looking regal but rather sad- Paolina's chest tightened as she
remembered their girlhood spat. Finally, her eyes rested on Quintus, and Aelia,
taking seats at the Emperor's left.
Commodus stood and waved at the crowd who continued to
cheer as chariots circled the ring, their occupants tossing bread high into the
crowds. When the little display was complete, he sat in his throne, to Paolina,
his regal stance seemed a mockery of his father.
The crowd fell silent as, beside him, a fat man in a
ridiculous wig of golden-red curls stepped forward. He nodded to one of the
guards, and the signal seemed to carry around the Colosseum to its center where
a large gate was thrown open and a troop of Gladiators ran forward.
Paolina leaned forward in her chair. Was one of them
Maximus? She couldn't tell- many of them were wearing helmets that covered
their faces, and they were too far away to distinguish in another fashion. She
felt guilty that she could not recall his gait, or the posture of his
shoulders, but it had been too long- more than three years- since they had last
met.
"Looking for someone in particular?" Drusus
asked.
Blushing, Paolina settled back into her seat.
"No." she answered at last.
The men walked forward toward the Imperial box and raised
their swords in the air. "We who are about to die, salute you." They
said in unison.
The emperor smiled while, beside him, the announcer
raised his arms and began to speak.
"On this day we reach back to hallowed antiquity to
bring you a recreation of a second Fall of Mighty Carthage. On the barren
straits of Zama, there stood the invincible armies of the Barbarian Hannibal.
Ferocious mercenaries and warriors from all brute nations bent on merciless
destruction conquest.Your Emperor is pleased to give you THE BARBARIAN
HORDE!"
The crowd cheered wildly as he gestured to the
gladiators.
"They're going to be slaughtered." Drusus whispered
quietly.
Paolina's breath caught in her throat as the gates on the
far side of the arena opened. Chariots.
She murmured in sympathy for the members of the
"horde"- they truly would be cut down like weeds. Paolina watched in
helpless fascination as the carnage began. The charioteers struck first, easily
picking off two outlying members of the group.
And then, something extraordinary happened- the little
troupe of gladiators began to take shape, moving into a solid, cohesive group.
They locked shields- like an army advancing across the field- and survived
untouched as a knife-bladed chariot rumbled past. Another chariot moved to
attack, and the men changed their position slightly, the chariot had almost
reached them when Paolina realized their purpose- the slight angle at which
they held their shields would make the chariot tip- the driver seemed to
realize this as well, but it was too late to pull back. He flailed his arms
helplessly as the conveyance crashed to its side, and a dark-skinned gladiator
rushed forward to kill him with a spear.
Paolina's attention was diverted slightly as one of the
large gladiators was shot in the calf by an arrow. He grimaced in pain, and the
crowd came alive, calling in warning as, behind him, a third chariot manuevered
toward an attack. He would be cut down by the blades that protruded from the
little cart's wheels. She sighed in disgust, but was unable to draw her eyes
away. Then, at the last moment, something extraordinary happened. One of the
other Gladiators threw himself forward, knocking himself, and the injured man
to the floor. The bladed of the chariot passed inches above their heads.
Things seemed to be moving in slow motion as, all around
the stadium floor, the battle degenerated into a blood brawl. First, one of the
"Amazon" archers was cut nearly in two by a chariot's blades, then,
another chariot crashed violently into one of the gates leading into the arena.
The crowd seemed to be caught in a constant roar, their attention bouncing from
sight to sight, wanting to drink everything in. Another chariot crashed, this
time nearly at the foot of the imperial box, and Paolina glanced at the face of
her cousin, tight and deathly pale as other occupants of the box ran to inspect
the wreckage. Meanwhile, one of the "barbarians" wrested a horse free
from its reigns and swung up on the mount. Her attention was strangely drawn to
him, and she watched, transfixed as he plucked an abandoned spear from the sand
and hurried after the last chariot.
"Isn't he magnificent?" Drusus said. "I'd
heard that he was the best....The Gual they call him."
"They do not!" Amelia joined the conversation,
frowning harshly. "He's from Africa."
"The Egyptian then?" Drusus knit his eyebrows
in concentration as he tried to remember the name. He threw his hands up at
last. "Oh well, I don't remember. I am new to this, after all."
"The Spaniard." Paolina breathed, never tearing
her eyes away from the scene.
Drusus blinked. "Yes, yes, I think that you are
right."
In a rush, memories of Maximus flooded back into
Paolina's heart, and she knew, with certainty that it was her husband atop the
horse. At last, she recalled the way that he sat on a horse, the slight angle
of his jaw when he walked, the powerful swell of muscles in his arms. She ached
to be near him, but she could only watch as the last throes of the battle wore
on.
With a spear to the chest, the last charioteer was
brought to a halt, and the blue-clad Carthaginians raised their swords in
victory. Without realizing it, Paolina had been holding her breath, and she
released it now in a slow shudder.
Safe.
For now at least.
The gladiators continued to wave to the crowd which
cheered for them wildly, but the man on horseback- Maximus, did not join them.
Paolina noted with alarm that he was galloping forward, spear still raised. She
followed his trajectory.
"No!" She screamed, rising to her feet. He was
going to kill the emperor- and she had no doubt he would be quickly killed
himself in return.
Paolina's voice could not be heard above the crowd, but,
miraculously, the spear lowered, and the horse clamboured to a halt.
There was movement in the Imperial box, and the crowd
groaned in annoyance as black-clad Praetorians spilled out among the victorious
gladiators. Quintus was no longer in the box- though he was not among the men-
and the Emperor, and his nephew were gone as well.
"Drop your weapons!" The leader of the
Praetorians commanded.
The gladiators eyes each other nervously- was it a trick?
Was the fight over, or were they now to face the Imperial Guards? They all
looked to the Spaniard, who slowly nodded his head.
When the swords fell to the ground, the guards forms a
column and the doors swung open again. It was Commodus, and Lucius- Lucilla's
son.
Squinting, Paolina could see that Quintus was with them,
his dark-plumed helment nearly obscuring his face. Her heart hammered in her
chest. What did they want? Was Maximus about to die after all?
The men were speaking, but from the distance, the words
were not audible. Finally, the gladiator turned, and the masses gasped in
surprise that one so lowly would turn his back on the ruler of Rome.
The emperor shouted something in response, and the
Praetorians laid their hands upon their swords, drawing an angry murmur from
the stands.
The Spaniard's hands reached for his head covering, which
he slowly drew away. It was agonizing for Paolina as she waited for his
features to finally be revealed...but when they were...
Maximus! It was like a dream to see him again- so close,
if it were quiet enough, she could call to him. He looked into the stands, his
eyes almost alighting on Paolina herself...and then he turned.
Again, she could not make out the words, but it was
obvious from his posture that he was angry. The surprise- fear?- on Commodus
and Quintus' faces affirmed that it was no trick of Paolina's imagination- her
husband truly was alive.
"Guards!" Quintus' voice rang above the crowd,
and dozens of shiny gladius' glistened in the fading sunlight.
Was this it? Would it all end after all? Paolina's muscles
were sore from tension....and then it began, softly at first, but rapidly
growing louder.
The voice of the crowd seemed to raise in unison.
"Live!" They chanted, their fingers gesturing
for the emperor to bestow his grant of mercy. "Live! Live! Live!"
Paolina lent her voice to the rest, crying out so loud
that she could feel her throat grow raw. "Live!" She screamed, tears
running down her face. "Live! Live! Live!"
After that seemed an eternity Paolina saw Commodus turn
to look at the crowd, raising a finger to his lips, as if he was trying to calm
it.
"Live! Live! Live!" the chorus went on and
Caesar returned to look at Maximus again. Then, with agonizing slowless,
clearly showing he was struggling with himself Commodus extended his thumb up.
The crowd roared in appreciation and as the emperor
turned to leave Paolina saw Maximus raise his right fist to his chest.....a
military salute she realised was directed to Quintus. As the Praetorians left the sand ring the winning gladiator
raised their arms in victory and Paolina saw Maximus did the same, raising his
helmet to the sky. A sunbean seemed to caress him and Paolina felt her heart
swell with love, relief and pride. Along with Drusus, Amelia and the rest to
crowd she remained on the stand, chating with an increasing force,
"Maximus, Maximus, Maximus" untill her husband and his fellow
gladiators disappeared behind the huge gates of the Colosseum.
Then, and only then, she pratically fell on her seat,
more tired he had ever been in her life.
51
Quintus followed Commodus as he returned to the imperial
box. He could clearly see that Caesar was furious and Quintus shivered, as he
sat down near Aelia, who was looking at him wild eyed. He too was shocked.
Never, even in his wildest dreams or nightmares, he had imaginated to see
Maximus again and certainly not as a gladiator.
Truly the Gods had the sense of humor-- a wicked sense of
humor. It seemed as they wanted to repay him for his sins by resurrecting from
the dead the victim of the most shameful act he had ever committed. Quintus
turned his head, searching for confort in Aelia's face but what he saw made the
blood freeze in his veins. She was pale but the look in her eyes was hard,
determinated....Had she finally realised what had really happened in Germania?
*****
The end of that day games finally arrived and Commodus
and his entourage left the Colosseum. The emperor was still brooding and
Quintus fervently hoped that his sister, Lucilla, would be able to calm him
down. The Prefect of the Praetorium knew what she was truly the only one able
to control the increasily mad monarch but he also knew that her power was
lessening. Also she too was living in a prison of fear just as Quintus was
himself, because her son was the heir to the throne.
Quintus escorted Commodus to the Palatine palace and then
returned to his home, were Aelia was already awaiting for him.
*****
As soon as he stepped in the atrium he knew the moment of
truth had come.
No servant came to open the door or the take his helmet.
Only Aelia was there, her arms crossed on her chest and her gaze hard. She did
not greet him but asked with a voice devoid of warmpth, "I want to know
what really happened in Germania. And I want to know NOW." Her stance
resembled so much that of her grandfather General Claudius that, if the
circumstances had been different her husband would have snapped in attention.
Quintus sighed and putting his helmet on a low table, and began to pace and
forward in the room.
"You want to know what happened in Germania?.....It happened
that I betrayed my best friend to save you and the children." There, he
had said it.
Aelia's lips moved but no words came out.
Quintus walked to her and began to speak again quickly,
"The night when Marcus Aurelius died, I was summoned by Commodus. He asked
me if I was a loyal man and then began to speak of you and Clara and Titus and
Appius...He said he had seen you before he left Rome. The threat in his words
was clear: I had to obey or we would all be killed...And then he told me he did
not trust Maximus, that he was not sure of his loyalty and that I would have to
deal with it." Quintus sighed and ran a hand along his short hair, "I
WANTED to help Maximus but he refused to listen....Not only he did not swear
loyalty to Commodus but accused him of killing his father!"
"Was he right?"
"What?" Quintus blinked at his wife's question.
"I asked if Maximus was right in accusing
Commodus."
"I don't know...Probably yes--Marcus Aurelius did
not have the appareance of having died naturally but--"
"But YOU refused to listen....Oh Quintus how could
have you done such a thing?" Aelia's voice trembled. "You comdemned
to death my cousin and her son too!!"
Quintus grabbed her shoulders, trying to communicate with
his look the hopelessness that he had felt, "I HAD NO CHOICE!!!" he
shouted desperately, "Did you hear me before? If I hadn't obeyed, Commodus would have declared me a traitor,
killed me, dispached a squad to murder you and the children and then he would
have searched for another man to carry on his orders against Maximus....we
would be all dead for nothing."
"Instead only Paolina and Marcus and Maximus paid
the price...." Aelia turned away as incontrollable sobs shook her frame.
She undestood why Quintus had done it -- probably she too would have done the
same to save him and her children -- but the idealist part of herself struggled
against accepting his justifications. Once more she felt Quintus' hand on her
shoulder, and he turned her to face him. Their faces were both streaked with
tears of desperation and they clung to each other tightly, trying to find
relief from a world suddently become unliveable.
They continued to hold each other for a long while, the
silence broken only by Aelia's jagged sobs. When, at last, she pulled away, the
anger was gone from her eyes- replaced by a look of quiet desperation.
"Oh, Quintus." She murmured through her tears.
"I'm so afraid."
"I know." He whispered, running her hair
through his hands, his jaw clenched with the effort of not crying himself.
"I'm frightened too." He continued to hold her very close, wondering,
abstractly, if it would have been better for them to die months ago, at least
sparing them the constant torture of dancing to the emperor's whims.
Aelia's rich voice brought him back to reality.
"What can we do?"
There was no answer.
"Master Clarus?"
Reluctantly, Quintus dropped his arms and turned to face
the little serving girl who had interrupted them. "Yes?"
"A messenger from the palace." She made a
half-hearted gesture over her shoulder toward the door. "...it's the
Emperor. He says he wants to see you right away."
Quintus shared a look of panic with his wife, then he
swallowed and reached for his helmet. "I'm on my way."
*****
Paolina said goodbye very quickly to her new friends and
jumped to her feet "Aren't you going to stay for the next program?"
Drusus asked. Even though the emperor and his entourage had, unexpectedly,
departed after the last fight, there were many more matches scheduled for the
afternoon.
"No." She said quickly. "I have to...meet
a friend." When she lifted her hand to wave goodbye, she had almost
reached the narrow corridor that would lead her back outside.
Paolina ran to the gate where she had been with the
little boys before and banged on the iron bars until she got the guard's
attention. "Who owns this school?" She asked quickly.
Surprised by her bold tone, the man quickly replied.
"Proximo."
"Take me to him."
The man blinked, still unsettled by her forward manner.
"I can't imagine that you would have any business with him." The man
said frankly, looking over her simple attire.
Paolina fought the urge to respond to the insult.
"Perhaps he has business with me." She said, trying another approach.
It worked. An amused grin spread across the man's face,
and he walked to a gate, unlocking it carefully, and then refastening it after
she had slipped inside.
"This way."
Paolina felt very cold as they stepped out of the
sunshine into the cave-like corridor of the school's interior. Everything
seemed to be damp and fetid. Shallow puddles lined the floor, as though the
walls themselves were sweating.
They passed up a narrow staircase, and , at last, the
guard stopped outside a heavy door. "He isn't back yet." He said.
"I'll wait."
Shrugging, the man left her alone.
Paolina stepped inside the little chamber, grateful that
this space, at least, was dry. It was decorated in a very eastern fashion-
piles of pillows and rugs upon the floor instead of more Roman couches and
chairs- and seemed tastelessly opulent, as though the owner were trying to
impress himself with the extent of his wealth.
Feeling restless, Paolina settled on the floor while she
waited for the man to return.
At last, nearly a half-hour later, she heard him in the
hall. He was laughing, recounting a friend, or, perhaps, another guard, how
much money he had won in his squad's victory.
"And I only lost three men!" He said, proudly.
"Three to...what was it? Eight of theirs? Ten? - and out armed too...I
tell you, they'd never seen anything like it."
He was still smiling when he walked in the door, but the
look faltered somewhat when he noticed Paolina.
"May I help you?" He asked, confused.
"I'm here about the Spaniard." She said,
frankly.
Proximo's smile fell- he'd hoped that the pretty girl was
waiting for him. He had little patience for groupies. Why give the Spaniard
away for free when he had paying customers?
"I'm afraid he's a bit out of your price
range." He said harshly, waving her away with his arm. The guard reached
forward to lead her away, but Paolina stood her ground, reaching for the money
bag tucked inside her belt.
"Really?" She said, pouring the coins onto his
desk.
Proximo stilled the guard and looked at the money. His
humor returned. Obviously this lady was not the sort he had first assumed-
probably a young matron bored with her husband but still too uncertain to
venture forth without a disguise. "Perhaps not." He said slowly,
reaching for a golden coin and turning it over in his palm. "But I'm
afraid that I can't offer him tonight."
"Oh?"
"He had a ...prior engagement."
Paolina swallowed, trying not to think of what the
"prior engagement" might involve. "She can pay you so
much?" She asked, after a pause.
"No." He said with a sigh, looking truly
regretful as he put the coin back in its bag and passed it across the table.
"But she does have...other methods of persuasion." Paolina felt her
spine tingle with fear as she dejectedly accepted her money. Her disappointment
must have reflected in her face, because Proximo spoke again. "He has
another match the day after tomorrow. His opponent is..." He stopped
suddenly, as though remembering that it was a secret. "Considerably
skilled." He finished at last. "So, there are no guarantees. However,
*if* he lives, you could see him that night."
Paolina looked up, grateful. It would have to do.
"Shall I make an appointment?"
"Yes." Paolina left the money lying on his
desk. "Please."
*****
When Quintus arrived at the imperial palace, his heart was
beating wildly.
What did Commodus want from him, to recall him so
suddenly? He just prayed the Gods Caesar was not about to tell him he believe
him responsable of Maximus being still alive.....that would mean his and his
family's death. In front of the hallway that led to Commodus' private study
Quintus stopped, straightened his shoulders and smoothed his uniform. Then
began to walk his steps cadenced and sure. He would meet his fate like a
soldier and not like a trembling rabbit.
He did not go very far. One of his men stopped him.
"Sir, the Emperor is awaiting for you in the courtyard." The soldier
said his tone full of urgency.
Quintus looked at him perplexed and the soldier added,
"Sir, Caesar says he had found the men who knew about General Maximus' escape
and has summoned a firing party."
Quintus paled then rushed to the courtyard.
*****
When he arrived he found a squad of Praetorians armed
with arrows already aligned in front of two poles were two men were tied. With
a pang Quintus recorgnized the young man who had informed him of Maximus'
possible escape back in Germania. Quintus turned his head, unable to substain
the man's gaze.
A few moments later Commodus arrived and without a glance
to Quintus walked straight to the tied soldiers.
"What's your name?" he asked to one.
"Julian Crassus." replied the frightened young
officer.
Commodus moved to face the second legionary.
"Name?"
"Marcus, sire." answered the soldier, raising
his head in a 'in-attention' position.
"My father's name." commented Commodus with a
matter of fact tone. Then he turned around and walked to Quintus and stared at
him. "They must have know of Maximus' escape, when they found the bodies
of the four men."
"They thought it was a barbarian raid." Quintus
spoke quietly, trying to save the two officers. "These are good men, sire,
loyal to the emperor."
Commodus gave him an unreadable look then gestured to the
commander of the firing party.
"Load bow!" shouted the man and the archers at
once nocked arrows and drew their bows, as the drums rolled.
"Prepare to fire!" called again the commander.
Commodus gave another glance to Quintus and then walked
straightly in front of the firing party, right on the line of fire of the
arrows. He stopped there and brought his hand to his lips, imitating the pose
of a man deeply in thought. He then turned again and gestured Quintus to join
him.
The Prefect of the Praetorium obeyed, while inside
himself he thought that only a madman could put himself in such a dangerous
position....Without hesitating Quintus put himself in front of Commodus,
shielding him with his body.
"Then perhaps it was you who knew...and never told
me." The emperor said, staring at him.
"I didn't know." lied Quintus, aware that
behind his back the archers were trembling under the strain of their drawn
bows.
"You didn't know? But a general is always in
control, always in command, isn't he?" Commodus added.
"Yes, Caesar." Quintus' body was covered with
sweat.
The emperor glared at him and then placed himself between
the tied officers, posing his hands on their shoulders. "Then give the
command." he ordered facing him again. "Say it."
Shaking Quintus walked out of the line of fire then
turned again to lock his gaze with Commodus. They stared at each other, while
Quintus struggled to find the words to give the command. How much innocent
blood had to stain his hands to keep his family safe? Please forgive me, he
thought looking briefly to the officers. And then he said it.
"Fire."
The archers fired. The two legionaries, hit in their
chests by many arrows died immediately. Untouched Commodus looked around him
with an insane gaze and then walked away.
Quintus walked in the opposite direction, until he found
a dark corner. He then removed his black helmet and leant his head against the
wall, slowly closing his eyes. He had succeded on protecting his family....but
for how much longer?
*****
"Proximo?"
"Yes." The old man's attention was momentarily
distracted from Paolina.
"She's here." He looked warily between Paolina
and his master. "Do you want to meet her?"
"No, that's not necessary." Truth be told, he
wanted as little to do with the whole business as possible. "Show her
in."
The man nodded and darted away. Bowing quickly, Paolina
took her leave as well. "I know my way out." She murmured, but , once
she was safely in the hall, Paolina did not turn left to exit as she had come.
Instead, she moved quickly after the footsteps of the receeding guard.
Paolina continued to follow the man through the maze-like
corridors. She stopped and gathered a basket of laundry outside one of the
rooms- it would be less suspicious to look like she was busy. At last, when it
seemed as though they must have walked to the very bowels of the underworld,
the bootsteps stopped.
"This way, my lady."
Paolina jumped, for a moment thinking that the man had
been speaking to her. She looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of an elegant
looking lady stepping into the dim hall. Paolina's stomach tighened with
jealousy and fear. She knew that she should leave- that it would be better if
she saw or heard nothing- but she could not obey the voice of reason. Crouching
in the shadows, she waited for the woman to re-emerge.
*****
Quintus barely remembered stumbling home. He was too
shaken by what he had done- too haunted by the lifeless faces of the two young
officers he had sent to the afterworld. When would it all end? He was sick of
waiting, sick of praying for relief. He could not bear to stay at the palace
that night.
No doubt Commodus would send for him in the middle of the
night- did the man ever sleep? But he didn't care. He needed Aelia. He needed
to see his children. He needed to remember why he was strugling to stay alive.
The family was at cena, and since Quintus was not at
home, the children were at the table with their mother. When the Praetorian
entered the room, their nurse made a motion to shuffle them away, but Quintus
dismissed her with a wave. "Leave them." He whispered, tossing his
cloak on a pile on the floor, and tousling each golden little head with as much
energy as he could muster before collapsing onto a couch.
"Tata!" The boys squealed in unison, their age
shileded them from the fear that enslaved the rest of the family, and they
bounced merrily on their chairs. Quintus favored them with an exhausted smile,
then he turned his gaze to Clara.
She was so different than she had been before she had
attended the games! It was as though someone had turned a light off inside her.
The little mouth, usually curled upward in pepetual glee, was flat and drawn.
Her eyelids were very low, and she stared listlessly at her uneaten food. He
ached for her, feeling terribly guilty that he had not been able to protect
her- his little girl- from the atrocities that she had been forced to witness.
Aelia seemed to sense his thoughts, and she squeezed his
hand gently.
"Appius, Titus, it is time for bed." She said,
rising from her chair. "Tell tata goodnight."
They protested vigorously. Quintus felt another twinge of
guilt- they missed him. He had barely seen them at all since his return to the
capitol- drifting in and out of the house like a breeze whenever the emperor
tossed him a moment to spare. Quintus planted kisses atop their heads, and
watched as they reluctantly trudged after the nurse to the nursery.
Clara was next. Without being told, she slid out of her
chair, her face betraying that she dreaded sleep- dreaded venturing back to the
world where blood-drenched sand and severed heads would haunt her dreams anew.
Aelia hugged her tightly. "Tell Veronica to leave the lamp on." she
instructed, brushing her daughter's fair hair away from her forehead. Make sure
that the oil is low and that papers are cleared away.
The special permission to keep a light seemed to offer
slight relief. "Thank you, mama."
"Goodnight, Clara."
Quintus held out his arms for an embrace, but his
daughter hurried past. She was avoiding him. She was afraid of the black
uniform that he wore.
"Goodnight tata." she whispered over her
shoulder as she hurried away behind her brothes.
Quintus watched her go, sighing heavily, Aelia leaned
forward, running the palm of her hand along his back in a comforting fashion.
"Eat" she whispered.
Quintus turned to look at the plates, but realised that
he had no appetite.
"I'm not hungry." he said after a long pause.
"Then come to bed."
Lacing her hand in his, Aelia led her husband to their
bedchamber. How peaceful and still it was! Quintus took a deep breath, inhaling
the rich scent of rosepetals that was carried in from the gardens on the
evening breeze. The doors, leading to the broad verandah, were left open,
allowing the sounds and smells of the night to filter in through the filmy
curtains. Aelia shooed her main out of the room, and began to unfasten her tunica
herself. She folded her garment and set it on a chair, before pulling a soft
nightgown over her head.
"Quintus?"
He had been staring into space. For how long? He didn't
know, but Aelia was dressed for bed now, her intricate hairstyle had been
undone, and her long curls hung around her shoulders, making her look almost
girlish.
"Are you coming to bed?"
He blinked, and then nodded slowly, stripping away his
garments and sliding between the soft sheets of the bed.
If only he could stay here forever. He had dwelt upon the
problems of the empire so long that, even with conscious effort, he was unable
to tear his mind away, slipping into unconsciousness was his only relief.
He was staring again.
After a long stretch of silence, he realised that Aelia
was staring back.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked, finally breakin free of his reverie and
reaching out to caress her cheek.
"Falling off a horse." She answered, and gave
him a gentle smile.
"You fell off a horse?" He frowned, confused.
"Don't you remember?"
Ah, yes. The horse...He too smiled as he remembered the
embarassed flush on his cheeks as he had checked the girl's legs for broken
bones...the guilty feeling that his hands had lingered perhaps a second longer
than they should "just to make sure."
"It's been a good ten years." Aelia said
abruptly. Quintus nodded, blinking to disperse the moisture that suddenly
formed on the rims of his eyes. "Worth it." He touched her cheek
again. "...Even if it ends tommorrow." Slowly, Aelia's hand snaked
posessively around Quintus' waist. "You have to let go." She said,
hoarsely. "No matter what the cost...you're killing yoursef."
"I'm-" he opened his mouth to protest.
"Your soul, Quintus.....you hate the mornings..the
afternoons...the nights....fear is all that you have left- all that anyone
has...Quintus, you are the only one who can stop him. Even Lucilla-"
"There is nothing that I can do."
"Quintus! You are Prefect of the Praetorians,
you-"
"He will kill you.!" The passion in her husband's
voice rendered Aelia momentarily mute. He was not a demonstrative man, and the
angry tears that flashed suddenly on his cheeks were disarming. "Can't you
see that, Aelia? I don't care what happens to me. He can kill me, he can beat
me, he can-"
"Quintus." Aelia lay her finger across his
lips, silenceing him. "Oh Quintus...you have been so brave...." She
leaned forward and kissed his neck. "But it is over....over....it has to
end." She looked up and met his eyes.
"If I....I fail." His voice was cracked.
"I've ordered these things...I know too well what will happen. They won't
kill you, Aelia- not for a long while. They'll rape you....Clara" his
voice waivered. "Clara too....torture."
"I won't let them suffer." Aelia said quickly.
"It's....been arranged."
Quintus' eyes flashed.
"Poison." She said softly. "Fast. The
best."
"Aelia!"
Aelia swallowed, thinking of the tiny, deadly capsules
that she kept hidden in the sash of her gown. They would *not* harm her
children.":Quintus, it must END!" She was trembling now. "Who is
to say that you are saving us? Perhaps
you are prolonging our fates. I need you...We need you...Rome needs you to
act."
52
Time seemed to crawl for Paolina during the next two
days. Paolina had gone back to the mansion only to sleep- she could not bear to
face her cousin now- she passed the time strolling quietly through the streets
of Rome, barely seeing the beautiful monuments that seemed to rise on every
side. She could think of nothing but seeing Maximus again. How he would look, how
he would feel in her arms.
She thought of Lucilla too- the lady who had been with
Maximus the night before. Paolina had been relieved when, only a few minutes
after her arrival, the elegant stranger had left...but she had been even more
shocked to find that the woman was none other than Lucilla. There was something in the woman's haunted
look in the hallway....a subtle change that seemed to announce an important
change in her character. Paolina could see from the lines on her face that she
too had suffered terribly under her brother's reign. Aelia whispered
insinuations that Commodus' love for his sister went beyond the bounds of
brotherly affection- thinking back to the cold, retilian eyes, Paolina could
not doubt that it was true.
*****
At last, the day of the second match began. Paolina had
considered remaining far away from the Colosseum. In the few days since his
victory, Maximus' name had become famous throughout the city. She had no doubt
that she would learn the outcome of the fight as soon as it was complete...but
in the end she had not been able to stay away. She pressed into the hateful
structure with the rest of the masses and took a seat as close as she could to
the arena floor.
Luckily the agony of waiting was short. Remebering her
past day of watching the games, Paolina took her place just before the noon
break, so she was spared the excutions and the fights with the animals.
The slaved had finished removing the blood soaked sand,
substituting it with clean dirt when the wagons carring bread entered in the
ring and began to to toss it into the stand. Paolina was able to catch a loaf,
but she did not eat it...her stomach was too unsettled with fear, and also she
refused to accept any present from Commodus, the man had almost destroyed her and
her family. So she passed the bread to a hungry looking woman with a child, who
accepted it with grateful eyes.
The roar of the crowd announced the Emperor's arrival.
Paolina saw that as usual he was followed by Lucilla, Quintus, Aelia, some
servants and an enourmous group of guards. They all took their places and
Cassius, the editor with his ridiculous wig, began to announce the next match,
the clou of the day.
"People of Rome. On the 4th day of Antioch, we can
celebrate the 64th day of the games. And in his majestic charity, the Emperor
has deigned this day to favour the people of Rome with an historical final
match. Returning to the Colosseum today after five years in retirement, Caesar,
is pleased to bring you the only undefeated champion in Roman history, the
legendary...Tigris of Gaul!"
The crowd erupted in a joyous roar as the huge gates of
the Colosseum burst open and a four-horse chariot gallopped inside, before
stopping in its center. The passenger of the chariot was a giant of a man who
wore a shining helmet closely resembling the head of a tiger. His right arm was
stretched out in salute. The man dismounted and walked under the stands to
receive the applause of his fans and Paolina gasped upon seeing how big and
muscled he was.
Her gaze left him only when her heard Cassius call the
name of his opponent, ".....Caesar is proud to give you Aelius
Maximus."
Paolina's heart jumped in her chest as the other gates
opened and her husband entered the arena. There was no chariot for him and he
simply walked across the sand, his step misured, his back straight, his head
proudly up.
He did not look at all as a slave...he was still a
general marching to meet his opponent as he have always done. The crowd went
wild, calling the warrior's name with enthusiasm, "Maximus, Maximus,
Maximus!"
Maximus halted very near to Tigris, then planted his
sword in the ground and bent to pick up a handful of sand that slowly rubbed in
his hands. Then he stood up.
Tigris turned to the imperial box and crossing his arms
and his wheapons - an axe and a sword - on his chest, exclamed, "We who
are about to die salute you!"
Maximus stayed silent, but turned to give a murdeous look
to Commodus. Then he picked up his sword and round shield and assumed a combat
stance.
Paolina looked with surprise as four teams of three men
each ran in the arena, picking up long chains buried in the sand, but she had
no time to wonder why, that the match began. Tigris
kicked sand into Maximus' face and began the fight with his sword followed
immediately with a fierce kick to the chest, throwing Maximus to the ground.
Paolina saw her husband roll out of the way as trap door
opened and a large tiger jumped out, pouncing at the fighting gladiators. A
horrified gasp left her lips as in the following few moments other trap doors
opened revealing more tigers. From the shouts of the handlers it was clear that
the teams had the job to restrain the animals when they got too near to Tigris
but they had to give them space when Maximus was on the way of their lethal paws.
The crowd was shouting, wildly excited as the fight
continued without one of the opponents clearly having the upper hand. Then,
suddently, Maximus managed to disarm Tigris with a fierce blow of his shield to
his face and switching his sword from one hand to the other prepared to finish
him. It was then that fourth tiger jumped out of a trap door, attacking Maximus
from behind. In a split second, a terrified Paolina saw her husband turn around
and hit the beast more than once with his sword. The dying tiger's weight threw
Maximus to the sand, imprisoning him, as Tigris moved in for an attack, but
with the force of desperation, Maximus was able to deflect the assault and to
put a hand to the fight, spiking Tigris foot with his own axe. Quickly freeing himself
from the dead beast, Maximus stood up and kicked Tigris's chest, knocking him
to the ground.
It was finished and Paolina let go the hem of her tunic
that she had grabbed and tortured with her hands as Maximus fought for his
life. As relief washed over her as the waves of the sea, she barely registered
her husband's merciful -- and defiant -- gesture of sparing Tigris' life, but
her attention quickly returned to the arena as a squad of Praetorians entered
the ring, encircling Maximus as he was about to leave the battle ground. Few
second later Commodus made his entry, saluted by the boos from the crowd and
approached Maximus.
Once again Paolina was not able to hear what the two men
were saying but she got the impression that Commodus was trying to provoke
Maximus in some way, so he would have an excuse to have him killed by his
black-cladded guards.
But Maximus refused to act and with a bow put an end to
the verbal duel and turned around. Paolina saw two of the Praetorians move
aside and let him pass, saluting him in a manner befitting a general and not a
slave. Her heart burst with pride and love as she saw how he was able to
command everybody's respect even in his humble station.
The crowd began once more to shout Maximus' name as a
scorned Commodus returned to his box.
Paolina immediately left her place and began to walk
along the hallways to reach the exit of the Colosseum. However the task proved
very difficult because a lot of people seemed to have had her same idea,
crowding the passages. The arena staircases were very steep and it was
unthinkable to run down of them. So Paolina resigned herself to wait, even if
her patience was rapidly wearing out.
*****
The sound of the cell door opening snapped Maximus out
from his beautilful daydream....the vision of himself, Paolina and Marcus
playing in a wheat field as wild ponies ran around them, wanting to join the
family in its play. He blinked his eyes in rapid succession and, with the sound
of his son's laughter still echoing in his ears, he turned his head to look at
the guard standing on the door.
"Come with me, you have an appointment."
Maximus felt his heart twist in his chest. Who was this
time? He did not think it might be Lucilla again, not after the way he had
refused her help two evening ago. An assassin? A rich matron wanting to be
'pleasured' by him? Both the possibilities were disgusting and scary at the
same time.
Maximus sighed, knowing he could not refuse, and standing
up, handed his wife and son figurines to Juba.
"Take care of them for me." he whispered and
his friend nodded, closing his hand on the little pieces of wood.
The guard motioned Maximus along the dark, damp hallways
and led him to another cell, different from the one where he had met Lucilla.
This time he was chained only by his left ankle and the chain was longer.
"Wait here, your date will arrive soon." the
guard commented with a smirk before closing the door.
Maximus looked around him and with alarm his eyes
registered the presence of a simple bed in the darkened corner of the cell. He
paled and closing his eyes murmured a prayer to the Gods, "Please, don't
ask this from me. I can't do such a thing....."
Maximus then sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his
hands, listening carefully for any noise outside in the hall. Not that there
was anything that he could do to change his fate- still, so many years of
watchfulness could not be discarded easily. So, when footsteps finally splashed
through the dampness of the hall, he heard them long before they reached his
cell.
The woman led in by the guard was shrouded in a heavy
cloak, a nondescript, grey silk garment that obscured everything but her small
feet. So, she too was ashamed of what was about to transpire. Maximus
swallowed, his brain desperately reaching for an option, a chance to escape.
Leaving his charge in the corner, the guard walked toward
Maximus. "She's paid for the whole night." He smirked. "I hope
you're not too tired from the fight."
Maximus merely glanced up at the man, the dominance in his
eyes- in spite of his humble position- so strong that he silenced the taunts
instantly. The guard backed away.
"Call if you need us." He said to the woman.
"We'll be nearby."
"M-may I have the key?" The woman asked,
nodding toward the shackle that bound the gladiator's leg.
Maximus felt a little lump form in his throat. The voice
sounded almost familiar...
"I gave him plenty of slack."
That seemed to be the end of the conversation. With a
final, knowing grin, the guard exited the cell, locking it behind him, leaving
the two figures to stare at each other from across the room.
The woman was standing in a pool of deep shadows, and the
uneven shape of the cloak made it difficult to gauge her figure, but Maximus
had the impression that she was small. Her eyes, just peeking out from the hood
of the garment, were very wide, almost shimmering. Like her voice, they seemed
to echo loudly from his past although, in the dimness, he could not place them
with certainty.
"You are the one they call the Spaniard?" The voice
was rough, a little uncertain, but Maximus didn't answer. It was a statement,
not a question- words to fill the air because the woman didn't know what else
to say.
"You were a general once, I think...in Gaul....a
soldier at Lun....a husband."
Maximus looked up, his jaw quivering. He was surprised
that Commodus had allowed knowledge of his identity to travel to the streets,
and disgusted that the woman would taunt him so cruelly.
"Yes." He answered hollowly.
Maximus turned his eyes away from the woman and looked at
the wall, wishing that they could just get the whole business over so that he
could retire to his room, forgetting the abuses heaped upon his body in the
daydreams that gave him solace.
"Your wife's name was Paolina."
Anger flashed in his eyes. There was a limit to his
tolerance, and she had crossed it. He turned his head to glare at her, but his
breath caught in his throat, any hint of malice draining instantly from his
eyes.
It couldn't be true.
Squinting into the darkness, he quickly crossed the
little cell, grunting in frustration when his chain caught on the wall. Noting
his predicament, the woman started forward. She offered him a little smile-
happy, but tinged with sadness at the same time...weariness.
His eyes drank in the vision like thirsty desert soil
tasting rain. The hair, the eyes, the gentle sway of the figure it was
like...almost like....but it couldn't be! He had seen her, touched her, buried
her on a hillside in Hispania, far away.
"Maximus." The woman reached for his cheek, and
he bucked away, frightened, wondering vaguely if he were hallucinating, or if
this were some angel of death sent to warn him that his time was near.
"Maximus." She touched him again, the softness
in her eyes seeking to reassure him that he was safe. "Maximus." And
now the woman leaned forward, laying her head against his chest. "It's me,
Maximus.....don't you remember...Maximus...."
"Selene." The word came out in the rasp of
air-starved lungs. It was her scent, in the end, that had convinced him- the
unlikely smell of earth and cinnamon that followed wherever she went. A hint of
jasmine. "Oh, Selene..." his eyes welled up with tears, and he closed
his arms tightly around her, no longer caring if it were a dream, or the
afterlife, or even a trick. The illusion was a happy one. Perhaps his longing
had been strong enough that the Gods had finally given it form.
Paolina, *his* Paolina was in his arms again.
"How?" He pulled reluctantly away sniffing and
brushing away his tears on the shoulder of her tunica.
"There was a fire..." She said slowly, not sure
how much he knew, or remembered. "When Atticus brought us home..."
"Us?"
"Marcus."
"Marcus? He's alive?" The news made Maximus
tremble, and Paolina led him back to the cot. They perched on the edge, holding
hands, their eyes never leaving each other's face.
"He's alive." Paolina's voice was slow and
careful. It was obvious that her husband had been through even more than she.
"When we returned, the house was burned. There were crosses in the yard
and ...graves."
"I buried them....I buried you...."
"Not me, Maximus...the housekeeper's wife, perhaps?
And her little son...I don't recall his name, I-"
"Selene...it had been so long...."
She turned, blinking with amazement. He was actually worried
that she would be upset by the mistake.
"Shhh....thank the Gods for the mistake. If it were
not so easy to make, Marcus and I might be dead."
This answer drew only solemn silence.
"I went to Gaul- home, but the soldiers told me that
you were dead."
"You didn't believe them?"
"I did at first, but then.....they said that the men
who were sent to...to...that they never came home. It was enough to hope."
"And you came here?"
"To speak to Quintus." She looked at her lap.
"I know... I know now that it was dangerous, but-"
"He tried to hurt you?" His words were furious
and incredulous at the same time.
"No. He does not know that I am here. Aelia has kept
me hidden as a housemaid." Paolina caressed her husband's shoulder.
"And you...?" She asked softly, nuzzling his neck in a way that was
more comforting than romantic. "How are you here?"
Quickly, omitting as many upsetting details as possible,
Maximus explained how he had been found by the slavers and brought to Zucchabar
like an animal in chains. He told her about the fighting- about Proximo, and
about his summons to Rome.
"We must get you out of here." She said
urgently as he finished. "Commodus will not stop until you are dead."
"I will not stop until *he* is dead." Maximus
said, so violently that Paolina caught her breath.
"Maximus, please." She tried to reason with
him. "Is it still worth it? Marcus needs you, I need you... we have to at
least try."
"I am a slave."
Paolina gasped with shock, amazed to see the slump in his
posture as he stared at his hands. He rubbed them, as if feeling for the marks
of shackles that we no longer in place.
"You are my husband."
She hadn't meant the words as a question, but in the
stillness that followed, they became one. "Maximus." Paolina let the
cloak slip from her shoulders, and moved so that she was facing him, she laid
her palms against his chest, smoothing over the firm muscles.
"Maximus?" Gaining no response, tears pricked at the side of her
eyes. "Don't you feel that?"
He sighed, his eyes drawing reluctantly to her face.
"I haven't felt anything but pain for so long...." Slowly, his own
hands reached for her, resting on the backs of her thighs, inching upward over
her bottom to her back. He drew her against him tightly. "You're
real." He breathed. "Real."
Paolina blinked, and the tears slid down her cheeks.
Maximus leaned forward and kissed each one, then lingering, his cheek against
hers, holding her very tightly. "Selene, what can I do..?"
"What can *we* do?" She corrected. "Oh,
Maximus- surely there is someone who will help us....your armies?"
"Cicero is meeting with them tonight."
She blinked. "Cicero."
Maximus nodded slowly. "He came here earlier. He
brought me...." the general's voice trailed off as he thought of the
figurines kept by Juba in the cell. He kissed her, the suddenness of the
gesture catching her off-guard, so that she was caught off balance, forced to
press against him for support. "We don't have much time..."
Paolina realized, with a mixed sensation of regret and
relief that the plans to free her husband had already been set in motion. For
better, or for worse, his fate rested in other hands. She could only offer
comfort, and she drew him close, hoping to share what she could before the sun,
and another hateful day pulled them once again apart.
Paolina felt Maximus' hands tighten on her back again,
and she drew her own across the broad plane of his shoulders. It was always
like this when they were reunited- tentative caresses that measured what was
different, what had remained the same. It was a careful inquiry into the
changes borne by time and distance.
She submitted willingly to the explorations of his
fingertips, thrilling at the lightest brush of his skin. The emptiness that seemed
to have consumed her life abating further with each gentle caress.
He murmured her name, drawing his ragged blue tunic over
his head, hungry for the comfort of her creamy softness. In a few brief
moments, he was naked, and then he stripped away her clothing as well, laying
her back on the simple cot as he arranged himself tightly against her, reveling
in the decadent sensation of skin against skin.
Paolina started. His touch was, at first like being
grazed by a ghost. She warmed to him. Slowly, he found the secret places that
their years together had taught him- the tiny strip of skin below her hair on
the nape of her neck that shivered at his breath, the firm muscles of her
thighs that trembled with his nearness, the deep recesses of her femininity that
yielded willingly to his assault.
Maximus ran his hand along her side. He leaned forward to
inhale her scent again. His tension slowly dissolved into hot tears. He did not
try to hide them. Paolina was crying as well, and the salty liquid mingled on
their cheeks, seeping between their joined lips.
Paolina pressed her hips forward, and was almost
surprised to feel the strong evidence of his desire pressing back. Their
passion had seemed more an action of solace than of sex. Now, however, feeling
his yearning, her own needs surfaced, and she reached for him greedily,
smoothing the length of him with her warm hands and leaning into him.
"Maximus..." She murmured breathily, and he
seemed to find new strength, raising her easily over his hips.
"My love...my love..." he whispered again and
again. "Alive..."
Paolina leaned forward and offered one of her breasts to
his mouth. He accepted it softly, drawing the taut nipple between his teeth
first, and then spreading his lips, drawing her fullness within him. Paolina
let a little cry out of her throat, a tingling sensation beginning deep within
her womb.
It continued like that, for what seemed like hours- each
languorous indulgence in the other's body- a melding of souls as much as
bodies. Each was eager to find release, but at the same time, unwilling to
hurry, unwilling to sacrifice even a second of the time that the other had
thought lost. At last, when she thought herself nearly spent of passion, he
entered her, and the stunning, filling warmth of his body infused her with new
life.
Touch, sight, taste, smell, sound...every sense was
perfectly attuned to the other party. They moved completely as one, a perfect
blending of bodies that culminated in a perfect release. Paolina cried out his
name so loudly that it reverberated on the cool stone walls, forgetting that she was in a cramped cell beneath the
Colosseum- remembering only that she was with Maximus as last...
"Careful..." Maximus whispered as he wrapped
her in his strong arms and spooned against her on the cot. "I'll get a
reputation...then you'll have to fight all the rich ladies for my
company."
She looked up at him, her vision still blurred and hazy.
She saw a whisper of a smile on his lips. It had been so heartbreakingly long
since she had seen the look that she threatened to cry again. Sensing this,
Maximus kissed her head. "I'm sorry." he said tenderly. "That
wasn't funny."
"No..." Paolina sniffed, and then smiled
herself. She thought of the heavy bag of coins that she had left on Proximo's
desk. "Don't worry- they can't afford you."
They kissed again, and then Paolina propped her head on
her arm and looked at him more seriously. "Oh, Maximus. What are we going
to do? Who can we trust to help us?"
The gladiator took a deep breath, and she realized at
once that she wasn't going to like the answer. "Lucilla has developed a
plan...."
*****