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...."

 

*****