Love and Duty
Aelia returned home completely drained. What she had just
seen in the arena had shocked her. She had always found the idea of men forced
to fight other men for the enjoinment of the crowd disgusting, but to see a man
she cared for as Maximus fight in front of her eyes was simply terrible.
It was late in the evening and one of the servants
informed her the children were already in bed. Aelia nodded and went in search
of Paolina...it was time for her cousin
and her to talk. She had the right to know what had happened in Germania.
Aelia knocked softly to Paolina's room but nobody opened
the door. She tried again with the same result so she silently entered,
thinking her cousin might be asleep. But the room was empty. Aelia frowned:
where was Paolina? It was already dark outside.. It was strange for her not to
be inside at that late hour. Then Aelia realized she had not seen much of her
cousin in the last two days. She sighed, maybe Paolina was upset because her
refusal to speak with Quintus.
Once more Commodus had requested Quintus' presence at the
palace and so Aelia was completely alone. She had yet to eat-- not that she was
very hungry -- and decided to go in the kitchen and prepare something very
simple by herself.
The cook was surprised to see his mistress in the
kitchen, even more so when she dismissed him and began to work with knives and
other utensilis.
"Nobles!" He
thought shaking his head as he walked away.
*****
Aelia found the simple task of cutting vegetables for a
salad very relaxing....it was like a jump back in time, when she still lived in
Gaul and regularly helped in the kitchen. It had been a harder life but so much safer...
She had just put down the knife when two arms slipped
around her from behind and the hands covered her eyes.
Aelia startled for a second then relaxed as her nose
recorgnized Quintus' smell. What he was doing there? She bent her head on the
side and felt his lips kiss her neck.
"MMmmmm...handsome soldier, you must be careful, my
husband might return at every moment...."
Quintus' hands let go her eyes and slipped around her
vaist. "Milady, your beauty is well worth the risk of meeting a furious
husband." he whispered in her ear.
Aelia's eyes opened, pleasantly surprised by his playful
mood. She turned in his arms and looked in his eyes. They seemed different, a
little less worried and Aelia could not help to wonder why.
Quintus seemed to read her mind, and taking her hand to
his lips he said, "Just for tonight I've decided to leave my troubles
outside the door....Just for tonight I want to be only your husband and forget
the rest of the world." It was then Aelia became aware he was not wearing
his black uniform but only a simple grey tunic. Having settled the ground rules
of the evening, they exchanged a smile and he asked, "May I help you in
some way?"
Aelia handed him a loaf of bread and he began to cut it as she returned to her salad.
However he soon stopped, seemingly enraptured by something. Aelia looked at him
arching an eyebrow and Quintus said almost shyly, "I love to watch your
hands...so feminine, so delicate and yet so strong." He raised his head
and in his eyes she saw all the love he was not able to express in words. In a
flash she threw her in his arms, totally forgetting the salad.
Quintus' embrace was welcoming. The tight, nervous
restraint of the past months was gone- all that remained was a warm, passionate
need that his wife reciprocated on every level.
"Aelia..." he whispered against her ear, the
heat and closeness of his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck rise
in anticipation. He placed one hand on the back of her neck, leading her to his
lips, and slid the other slowly down the length of her back.. The flat of his
palm rested at the very base of her spine, while his fingertips brushed lightly
against her buttocks. He drew her against him greedily, her intoxicating beauty awakening his
desire.
Their first kiss was gentle, and brief, but Aelia pressed
for another assault. She moved her lips against his, spreading them slightly,
her soft tongue sliding forward, across her husband's teeth. The kiss hinted at
deeper desires- reminding Quintus of a kiss that they had shared shortly after
meeting in Gaul - when he had sat by her sickbed talking and playing games. He
had predicted on that occasion that her passions were hidden, but deep. As her
husband, he had learned the truth of his insight. Aelia's appetites would never
be displayed to the world, but alone, with her Quintus, she gave free reign to
her lust. Her usual restraint only added to the intensity her passion. It was
an amazing thing for the soldier to know that he was the only one who had ever
shared her body...the only one that she had ever wanted...
The thoughts excited him further, and he moved his hips
forward again, pressing his burgeoning erection against her thighs.
Aelia pulled away from the kiss at last. Her cheeks were
flushed, and her eyes seemed to radiate her cravings. She looked down, briefly,
at her heaving bosom, then glanced up again only with her eyes. The look was
flirtatious..inviting...
The invitation was accepted.
With astonishing quickness, Quintus reversed their
positions. It was now Aelia against the table. Her husband, his hands still on
her body, pressed her backwards onto the table, so that her back lay flat
across the smooth wooden surface, her golden hair spilling aound her like a
halo.
"So beautiful...." he mumured, reaching for the
ribbons that secured her tunica. He unwound them slowly...enjoying the
self-torture in his restraint. Finally, when the strip of fabric was gone, he
diverted his attention to the tunica, peeling away the thin silk like the skin
of a delicious fruit. The room was cool, and Aelia's nipples were already hardened
into tiny, tight buds. He reached for them, kneading them between his fingers
until he elicited a deep moan, and then leaning forward, repeating the actions
with his tongue.
Aelia took advantage of his closeness, raking her fingers
through his short hair, and wrapping her legs around his hips. She pressed up
off the table, once again seeking the evidence of his desire. The touch of her
body drew a contented sound from her husband's lips, but he was not yet ready
to indulge her. His kissed moved lower... They lingered at her navel, his soft
tongue exploring the shallow hollow... Then deeper still, until they reached
the moist heat between her thighs.
Aelia cried out, her voice tinged with both embarassment
and exctasy. In all their years, her husband had never touched her in this way.
She was surprised...confused....but Quintus would not let her buck away...He
drew back a little, kissing her legs and smoothing his hands along her hips
until she calmed. Then, when she would at last submit to his ministrations,
moved forward again, catching her most senstive skin between his tongue and
teeth, pleasuring her with firm, rhythmic strokes.
Aelia forgot to breathe. Her mind grew hazy as she forgot
her need for air. When at last she remembered, the deep, ragged breath that she
needed to replenish her lungs was caught short by the sudden, convlsive power
of release. Her body seemed to shimmer- trembling helplessly under the
Praetorian's assult.
Looking satisfied, Quintus stood again, tenderly running
his hands along the contours of her body once more before reaching for the hem
of his own tunica. He stripped in a single, fluid motion. The soft grey wool
landing in a pile next to Aelia's silk, and then the linen cloth was swept away in another efficient movement.
He was fully erect now,
his seed glistened on the tip of his swollen member as he once again
moved toward his wife. Finally coherent , she looked at him curiously, excited
and alarmed by the predatory glimmer in his eyes. Quintus pulled her bottom
even with the edge of the table. Then, he settled his hands on her ankles,
massaging her feet. When she relaxed, her increased the pressure of his grasp
and then, Aelia's eyes growing wider at his every move, helifted her ankles
upward, so that her legs rested on his shoulders, parallel to his chest.
"Quint-" once again, her words were stunted by
his decisive action. With a murmur of satisfaction, he filled her, sliding
easily into the warm slickness of her sheath. Savoring the sensation, he
half-closed his eyes, grinding his hips forward, and then, almost regretfully,
pulling back, before burying himself to the hilt again.
Aelia's eyes were tightly clenched, unable to tolerate
any sensation other than the shattering pleasure of his touch. The position
gave him maddening control- the slightest movement of his hips sent fresh
tremors of ecstacy through her tiny frame- so she was helpless agianst the
assault.
"Ohhhhh...." She moved her hips against him,
unashamed to beg for the fulfillment he offered. She coaxed him
faster...deeper....she felt that he would press completely through
her."More...."
He took his time, building slowly toward release, only to
back them both away, stopping as they drew too near the edge, then, when his
breathing had slowed, beginning again to torture her with the maddening
pleasure of his thruts. At last, he reached the tolerance point of his control,
he slowed, as if to stop again, and then conceeding to his most animal needs, took her harder still.
With a deep, feral cry, Quintus fell forward, Aelia's
legs slipping down beside his arms as he moved to clutch her tightly. The
vivid, searing sweetness of his seed spilling within her brought Aelia once
again to release, and she bit her lip, trying to contain the swear word that
was the only articulation she could muster for the feelings that coursed
throughout her veins.
Quintus burrowed his head between his wife's breasts,
still clinging tightly to her shoulders- almost as though he were afraid of
falling off the earth.Only gradually did his breathing slow, and, when he was
finally composed, he raised his eyes shyly.
"I love you, Aelia." His words were simple and
unembellished, but their truth resonated in his every aspect.
Aelia's heart welled with joy- not matter what the cost
of the coming days, it would be worth this moment. "I love you too, Quintus." She whispered with all the
feeling her passion-spent body could emit. "I love you too...."
*****
Paolina woke reluctantly. The stars still shined above,
but through the grimey bars of the cell, she could see the tell-tale glow of
the sun tinting the eastern sky.
Her time with Maximus was almost finished. There was so
much more that she wanted to say! To do...how had the minutes slipped past so
quickly? One moment she was caught up in the pangs of ecstacy, the next, she
was listening to his gentle heartbeat, the next....she was in a vivid and
comfortable dream. It was a vision of what might have been- of Maximus and
Paolina on the porch of their villa, watching Marcus ride his horse down the
lane, waving to them as he rode through the gently waving fields of wheat...
Would it ever be anything more than a dream? When she had
finally found Maximus alive, Paolina had felt that her life was whole again. It
did not matter that she had lost her possesions- her home. All that she cared
about- the person that she needed more than anything else- had returned...but
how long would he be spared?
Maximus was right. He was a slave.
He was a slave that she could not afford to free.
Aelia? Paolina fought another wave of worry. Surely her
cousin would loan her the money if she could- but how was it possible. No doubt
the Clarus finances were being watched by the keenest of the emperor's spies.
The withdrawal of such an enormous sum....
Involunarily, Paolina's thoughts turned to the bag of
money that she had left on Proximo's desk. She had been foolish to spend it all
at once- stupid not to try to bargin- she might have bought more time! Time-
"It is so worrisome to wake up in my arms?"
Paolina looked up sharply as Maximus' index finger
tenderly traced her frown. "Maximus..." She leaned forward and
nuzzled him. She would not waste the precious moments that she had remaining on
her worries.
Her husband kissed both of her temples, and then the
center of her forehead, stroking her hair away from her face as though she were
a small child.
"I'm sorry...I don't want to leave..."
"I don't want you to go...but it will be over
soon." He swallowed. "One way or another."
Paolina blinked, wondering for a moment if she should
press to be included in the plan, but Maximus spoke without coercion.
"You and I are not the only people who have suffered
under Commodus' reign. There are men.... powerful men who want to see him
overthrown."
Paolina nodded slowly, closing his eyes so that she could
focus on the gentle touch of his hands as he continued to speak.
"There are senators...a senator, at least, who is
going to meet with me soon. He thinks that I can somehow help them in their
efforts." He seemed to scoff at the idea.
"Of course, with your army-"
"I have no army."
"No, Maximus. It is the army that no longer has its
general. I know that they still love you. Why else would the emperor be so
afraid. I have heard-"
Maximus laid his hands across her lips, stifling her
persuasion. "Oh, Paolina...I sometimes think it would be better *not* to
be loved....or hated by strangers....obscurity." His brows knit.
"That was all I ever wanted, you know....a quiet life. You, Marcus, the
harvest..." His voice softened, and his eyes seemed distant, as though he
had pictured the scene many times before- as though it were his vision of
heaven.
"You have not lost it forever." Paolina
whispered.
Maximus gave her a sad smile, wishing, but not believing
that her words were true.
"At least I still have you." He breathed
softly, and met her lips at last for a true kiss, the warm ridges of his lips
pressed against her own, sharing each other's breath as they lingered in the
embrace. "Selene...." He whispered. "This night...this one night
has given me a reason to keep fighting...don't be afraid..." He closed his
arms around her tightly, demonstrating his desire to protect her. "Don't
be afraid my darling...I will come back for you again. In this life...."
Or the next.
The words were unspoken, but they sat heavily in the air
between them, and Paolina felt a tremor of premonition in her spine.
"MORNING!"
The lovers were jolted out of their reverie by the
booming voice of the guard and the jangling of key in the lock. Maximus' face
darkened, once again reminded of his lowly station.
Paolina scrambled to replace her clothes, just tying her
belt as the guard burst through the door.
The guard's face fell. Obviously, he was hoping to get
the lock open before she had a chance to dress.
"Get your money's worth?" He said with a lusty
smile.
Paolina ignored the remark. She slid quickly into the
voluminous cloak, turning to watch as her husband's wrists were bound in iron
shackles.
Although they were in sight of the loathesome guard, she
could not resist a final touch, reaching forward so that her palm was held
flatly against his own. They both stared, remembering how her tiny hand seemed
to fit easily into his palm.
"I will send word." he whispered, just before
the guard drug him away.
"I will be waiting."
53
Three days.
Three interminable days of waiting, hoping, wondering and
still no word from Maximus. Paolina sighed, her eyes glued to the lane that led
to Aelia's villa, remembering her husband's final salute, "I will send
word."
Tired, Paolina left her place near the window and sat on
her bed. The darkness had already descended on Rome but she could not go in the
garden as she usually did because Quintus was home that evening. For once
Commodus had given him leave and now he was dining with his wife and children.
"While my husband is locked is a cell like an animal
and my son and I are alone." The thought came bitterly in her mind and
Paolina pushed it way, resuming her position near the window. "What are you
doing, Maximus?" she wondered aloud, and then closed her eyes, imagining
to hear his voce answering.
*****
Miles away, I his cell in Proximo's school, Maximus was
lying on his bed, his left arm bent under his head, his face turned to the wall
as he wondered about his future and that of his family. It had been a good
thing he had not sent Cicero to visit Paolina with news about the plan for
setting him free, because it had failed miserably. Scared by Commodus' spies,
Proximo had not met with Gracchus' servant and the money to buy Maximus'
freedom had never changed hands.
Suddently the door of the cell opened and Proximo
entered. Maximus sat up quickly as his master ordered to the other gladiators
to leave, "Get out, move!"
Juba and Haken looked to him for approval and Maximus
gave it to them with a nod of the head, looking as they left him alone with
Proximo.
The lanista turned to him and said with a knowing smile,
"Congratulations, General. You've got very persuasive friends." He then left and Lucilla took his place as
the door was closed behind her. Maximus stood up, surprised to see her, but
before he could utter a word, she began to speak with urgency, "My brother
has had Gracchus arrested. We daren't wait any longer. You must leave tonight.
Proximo will come at midnight and take you to the gate. Your servant, Cicero,
will be waiting with horses."
Maximus was moved by her words, "You have done all
this?"
"Yes."
"You risk too much."
"I have much to pay for." Lucilla moved as she
wanted to leave.
"You have nothing to pay for. You love your son. You
are strong for him." Maximus replied gently, thinking about his own son,
waiting for him in Gaul. He knew he would do anything for him or Paolina.
Anything.
"I am tired of being strong. My brother hates all
the world and you, most of all." Lucilla' voice was trembling.
"Because your father chose me." That was the
first time Maximus said those words to someone--He had not even said them to
Paolina-- but Lucilla was not surprised.
"No, because my father loved you ... and because I
loved you." she said.
"A long time ago." Maximus tenderly took her
hand and kissed it. He no longer thought of
Lucilla as a lover, but he still cared deeply for her. The years had
changed her for the better and he had forgiven her for the shameful treatment
she had submitted Paolina so many years before back in Gaul.
"Was I very different then?" Lucilla asked.
Maximus smiled faintly, remembering their teenagers' love
and gently stroking her face, he replied, "You laughed more."
"I have felt alone all my life, except with
you." Lucilla saw Maximus breath deeply,".... I must go." She
added, but did not move.
"Yes." Maximus slowly bent his head and kissed
her tenderly, trying to transmit her confort, hope and some of his strength.
Then they separated and Lucilla disappeared quickly into
the dark night.
*****
Paolina was awakened from her troubled sleep by the sound
of desperate screams. For just a moment she thought Clara was having another
nightmare but when she realized the cries came from outside. She jumped down
her bed and rushed to the window. What she saw made her blood freeze. The villa
of Aelia's neighbours was burning, the flames lightining the night with their
yellow and orange tongues. Paolina grabbed her robe, donned her slippers
and run out of her room. The wind was
strong and she needed to alert the household because the flames might attack
their villa too.
However, when she arrived near Aelia's room, she saw that
her cousin was already up, along with her husband.
Paolina and Quintus locked gazes and she saw him pale,
probably thinking she was a ghost come to torment him. Paolina gave him another
hard look but that was not the time for a confrontation. "We must help
those people!" she said, gesturing with her head and the Praetorian
nodded.
In few minutes all the servants were working with water
and sand to extinquish or at least contain the flames, but unfortunately it was
too late for the burning villa's owners: when Quintus was finally able to enter
the smoking ruins, he found them already dead.
He returned to his house with his head bowed and his
stomach churning. He had recognized the signs and he knew the fire had been set
by his own men. But why? He knew the villa belonged to a senator, but the man
had never overtly opposed Commodus, at least not untilnow. Quintus sighed and
raised his head, turning to look in the direction of the imperial palace,
wondering about its dark lord. He gasped as he saw many fires located in
different areas of the Urbe. What's going on? And why had noone alerted him?
He quickly ran in his villa and met the scared eyes of
his wife and his sister in law.
"Something very grave has just happened, I must go
to see what is it." he explained and walked to his
room to dress but as he passed a open door, a feeble but still commanding voice
stopped him.
"Quintus! Come here, I must speak with
you. NOW." General Claudius' tone did not admit refusals and Quintus
entered his room.
The old man was lying on his bed, his back
supported by many cushions, and he looked very fragile, as if his bones might
break in any moment. But his eyes....! His eyes were still alive, luminous,
clearly showing the intelligence that still burned behind them.
"What can I do for you, general?"
Claudius did not waste time with
pleasantries. "I want to know what's going on in this city and in this
house. Since Marcus Aurelius died, tension and fear have taken the place of joy
and happiness and I want to know why. Why Aelia is always so pale and tired?
Why does Clara scream almost every
night?Whe are you almost never here?"
Quintus sighed, not very surprised by his old
commander's observations. "It is Commodus fault, sir, he has begun a reign
of terror."
"He has done it with YOUR help.....Why
are you the commander of his Praetorians? And why he is sitting on the throne?
I know Marcus Aurelius did not want him as his heir, he knew Commodus was not a
moral man. I am sure his son killed him for that reason." Claudius sadly
shook his head.
Quintus was stupefied. Marcus Aurelius did
not want Commodus to succed him? How could Claudius know such a thing?
The old general seemed to read his mind and
replied, "You know the late Caesar and I have been friends for many
years..." Quintus nodded, encouraging him to go on, "Before he left
for Germania, he came to visit me. He said he was not sure he had much more
time to live and he wanted to bid me farewell. We spoke of many things that
day, and he told me he wanted to name another man as his heir instead of his
corrupted son. He had already made up his mind and asked me how he could
convince that man to accept the job, a man without pride or ambition..."
Claudius stopped to regain his breath and suddently asked, "Where is
Maximus? Why is he not on the throne? Did he refuse Marcus Aurelius' request?
Is he dead?"
Quintus saw the room spin around him. What
was Claudius saying? Maximus on the throne? The old man was
hallucinating......No. He was telling the truth. As if by magic all the pieces
of the puzzle fell in place: Maximus' secret meeting with Marcus Aurelius the
morning the old Caesar died; Commodus' wanting Maximus dead before the troops
might intervene; Maximus' certainty about the murder and his refusal to accept
Commodus' hand.....Quintus cursed under his breath. He took a couple of deep
breaths and then looked back into Claudius' eyes , "I can't explain now,
general, it is too long to say now BUT, believe me, I will do all I can to put
things back as they should be."
And before Claudius was able to utter another
word, Quintus walked resolutely away.
*****
Quintus waited long enough to see that his own home was
not in danger, and then hurried to the palace. He was unnerved by the failure
of the emperor to include him in his plans. Was he suspected of something? Had
his order to kill the Praetorian Guards seemed insincere? His heart was
hammering. All of the tension and stress that he had set aside during the
preceding three days flooded back even stronger than before.
The emperor was not in the throne room- or the little
antechamber that was his usual haunt. With the exchange of a few, quick words
with the guards, Quintus learned that he was in one of the bedchambers in the
eastern wing used during the heat of summer- a room whose broad terrace opened
to the city below...
Quintus hesitated outside the door. If there truly was a
problem- if Caesar were asleep, or conversing with someone else- he could
exacerbate the problem. Quintus swallowed. Inaction was no longer an option.
Boldly, he pushed through.
The emperor was standing near the window, a look of
crazed determination on his face so dark and fierce that the Praetorian almost
backed away.
"Ah, Quintus." He couldn't leave now- he had
been seen, and so he walked to the center of the room, acknowledging the
emperor with a forced salute.
"Caesar."
"Sleep well?" The forced cheerfulness carried
an edge of madness.
Quintus did not answer.
"A pity no one could find you last night."
Quintus shivered. "A Praetorian captain might have been useful. My sister,
and her friends were very busy....weren't you, 'dear' sister?" There was a
little sob, and he turned, sharply, amazed to see that the empress, Lucilla was
sitting in a nearby chair. Tears had dried on her cheeks, and he could tell
from the lines on her pretty face that she had not slept during the night.
Quintus wondered how long she had been there, backing toward the door as a
sense of foreboding enveloped him. The emperor stroked the woman's hair with
his hands- the tenderness of the gesture terrifyingly dissonant with his tone.
He met Quintus' gaze squarely. "It *is* the Praetorian's duty to protect
the emperor, is it not?"
Quintus struggled to hold the look- to avoid betraying
his nervousness. "Of course, Caesar. I was at home there was-"
"Unless, of course, the Prefect does not want to
Emperor protected..."
Quintus blood ran cold. He barely breathed until he saw
the glimmer of a smile on the other man's lips. He was testing him.
"Of course I do, sire." He said evenly.
"Of course."
Commodus glanced between the officer, and his sister,
then went back to staring out the window. A flock of birds raised suddenly into
the sky, as though they had been frightened, their black silhouettes mirroring
the darkness of the ruler's gaze.
"It is done."
Senator Falco entered the room, a haughty smile on his
lips as he crossed the floor with only the barest glance at its other
occupants. Caesar slowly turned, nodding in acknowledgment of the words. Then
he began to pace around his sister, menacing her with his dark stare.
"And what of my nephew?" he asked, the threat in his voice
undisguised. "And what of his mother? Shall they share her lover's fate or
should I be merciful?" Quintus let his breath out as the pieces fell into
place. Lucilla had been caught in some sort of plot. His jaw clenched tightly
as the emperor continued to speak. "Commodus the merciful." He looked
upward as he tried the phrase on his tongue, smiling distantly, then he scowled
again. "Lucius will stay with me now and if his mother so much as looks at
me in a manner that displeases me, he will die. And if she decides to be noble
and take her own life, he will die. And, as for you," He turned to his
sister, very near her face as he spoke even colder than before. "You will
love me as I have loved you. You will provide me with an heir of pure blood so
that Commodus and his progeny will rule for 1,000 years."
Quintus felt his stomach churn in revulsion at the
display.
"Am I not merciful?"
Lucilla was shaking, but she did not answer her brother's
taunt. She moved away as he leaned forward to kiss her. For a terrifying
moment, it seemed that he would slap her, but the hand that moved forward
instead pinched her jaw tightly, jerking her chin to face him.
"AM I NOT MERCIFUL?" He screamed.
The cry seemed to echo in the dim chamber, and Quintus
felt his heart racing. The emperor truly was a madman. If not truly insane, he
was so debauched, so devoid of morality and honor that he could not be
contained. Marcus Aurelius had understood this, he saw at last. This was why he
had insisted that Commodus could not rule. Lucilla had been the last check on
her brother's cruelty.
Now, even that safeguard had been removed.
For months, it seemed that Quintus had been teetering on
a highwire, trying to maintain a balance between safety and honor. That was no
longer possible. He could see, even from the brief exchange that his own
position of confidence was threatened by the senator. How long before the
Emperor's rage was turned against him? He would have to take action. Soon.
Lucilla had begun to shake violently, the stress and
exhaustion of the evening finally overwhelming her small frame.
"Go and fetch my sister's maid." Commodus said
with disgust, once again walking away to glower down at the scenery.
When Falco did not make a move to obey, Quintus jumped at
the chance for escape. He ran through the halls until he found the pair of
guards that he was looking for. "Caius." He called sharply.
"Ride to the Colosseum and make sure that the preparations have been made
for the emperor's attendance." It was a trivial, useless mission, but he
wanted the man to leave.
"Yes, sir."
"Cincinnatus, walk with me." He whispered when
they were alone.
Quintus tried not to be obvious as he led the man to a
deserted corridor. They had served together in the Felix legions, long ago.
Cincinattus had been a centurion- one of the ballistics experts who had
followed him to Judea, and then back again to Germania. They had always been
acquaintances- never friends, but Quintus hoped desperately that this was
enough.
"Are you loyal to the emperor, or to Rome?" He
asked, plaintively.
Cincinnatus struggled with the question. He was
frightened that he was being tricked. That was a good sign.
"The emperor is Rome." He parroted the
appropriate answer at last.
"Is Commodus the Rome that you want to live
in?"
Silence.
Quintus' head almost seemed to spin in disbelief at the
risk he was taking. His mind flashed, momentarily, with an image of Aelia and
the children...the terrible poisons she kept in her room..... "He is out
of control."
Cincinattus held Quintus' gaze for a long moment, then,
very pale, he nodded.
Quintus let out a sigh of relief. "Will you help
me?"
"Yes."
"Here is what I need you to do...."
*****
Quintus was careful with his footsteps for the rest of
the day. He was never far from the emperor, careful to ensure that the
all-too-obvious spies could follow his every move. He sent Cincinattus to check
the garrison near Ostia- ostensibly to ensure that they were prepared to
respond to any movement from the Felix legions that were camped nearby, but, in
truth, on a mission to plead for the armies' help. This had been Lucilla and
Maximus' plan- he learned after a full day of enduring the emperor's harangues.
He prayed that he would have better luck.
That evening, he returned home with a heavy heart. The
acrid smoke that seemed to shroud the hillside- still rising in black plumes
from the smouldering ruins of his neighbor's villa- seemed to echo his mood. It
was as if all the darkness in the world were moving forward to smother him.
Aelia met him at the door, the children already consigned
to their nurses, and led him to bed. A plate of hot, comforting food was
sitting on a nearby table, and his nightshirt was carefully draped across the
bed.
She watched in silence as he dressed. He had a sense that
news of the events of the palace had already spread throughout the city. The
fire at his neighbor's house had been no accident. It had been part of a
carefully orchestrated purge of Commodus' enemies. She understood, too well,
how close their own family stood to peril.
"Tomorrow." He said at last, sliding beneath
the blankets, grateful for the comforting weight of Aelia in her arms.
"Tomorrow." She echoed.
"Commodus will fight Maximus in the Colosseum."
"Commodus!" The surprise in her voice was
undisguised. "But how-?"
"I do not know. Either he truly is insane
or..." he lowered his voice "...more likely, he has some hidden
advantage that I don't even know..." He tightened his arms. "How is
Paolina?"
"As well as can be expected. She tried to see
Maximus today- in spite of my warning. Luckily, they only thought she was a
fan..."
Quintus nodded solemnly, praying that the woman hadn't
been followed back to his house. He would seek her out in the morning to tell
her of his plan. He whispered it now to his wife.
"It is all you can do." She said at last,
wishing that she could offer stronger comfort. "Will they come?"
"Yes. If I can get a message through- I have no
doubt."
"Why haven't they come before?"
"No one asked them..." Quintus struggled for a
way to explain military behavior to his wife. The men were soldiers...they
needed a leader, orders to follow- he blinked, a little surprised at how well
the description fit himself. "They will come." He kissed her hair.
"But....if they do not...."
"I know."
He could feel her shiver. "I will watch for you. If it is the
Praetorians who come I will....I will know...I will..." She let the words
proclaiming her promise to take the poison die on her tongue.
"It will be over."
"Tomorrow."
54
The next day dawned sunny and bright, but it was nothing
like the mood in Quintus' heart as he approached Paolina's bedchamber. He knew
that she would not want to see him, but he felt duty-bound to tell her of his
plans....and to warn her of the upcoming fight....
He knocked to her door and she opened it at once, as if
she was waiting for someone to knock.
They stared at each other silently, observing the lines of
worry on each other's. It was evident that neither of them had sleept the past
night.
"May I come in?" Quintus finally asked.
Paolina nodded, opening the door wide to let him pass.
Quintus knew what was not the time nor the place to
explain his reasons or ask for her forgiveness so he pressed ahead.
"Paolina, I am here to tell you today Commodus will fight against Maximus
in the Colosseum, in front of the crowd."
The woman's eyes widened, "What?"
"You heard me. Unfortunately, I suspect Commodus
might have some secret resource, because nobody in right mind would want to
fight against Maximus."
"Commodus is mad....I saw his eyes..."
"Yes, he is insane, but he is not a stupid. Anyway I
want to let you know that I made mine Maximus' and Lucilla's plan....I...sent a
messeger to alert the Felix Legions in Ostia...They should be here soon."
"In time to avoid the match?" Paolina asked
hopefully.
"I don't know..." Quintus replied honestly.
Paolina nodded. "Thank you Quintus. Now, please,
leave me. I need to dress to go the Colosseum." She turned her back to
him, not wanting him to see her tears but Quintus grabbed her wrist, turning
her again.
"Paolina, it would be better for you to leave the
town at once. This house is no longer safe and coming to the arena might be
dangerous..and painful...." Quintus swallowed loudly, "Aelia told me Marcus is awaiting for
you in Gaul....we can give you the money to return to him."
Paolina looked at him straight in the eyes. "I
appreciate your offer, but I want...I need to be near my husband today. If the
Gods have decided this will be his last day, I will be with him in his last
moments. He will not die alone." Her voice ended in a resolute whisper.
Quintus let go her wrist and nodded, "You are a
great woman, Paolina." He bowed to her in salute and let her alone.
*****
"MAXIMUS! MAXIMUS! MAXIMUS!"
The roar of the crowd was so loud that it reached inside
the Colosseum bowels, arriving to the holding cells were Maximus was, chained,
his arm streched out in the stance of a prisoner sentenced to torture.
His face was bruised, clearly showing he had not easily submitted to capture. He was looking
up, to the sun which filtered inside, praying the Gods to protect his wife and
son and begging forgiveness to Paolina and Marcus for failing to do so by
himself.
"MAXIMUS! MAXIMUS! MAXIMUS!"
Quintus stopped in front of the Spaniard....his former
commander....his friend. He wanted to tell him about his plan, but the presence
of other Praetorians made it impossible. He walked near him and meeting his
eyes -- eyes in which still shone the flame of life -- he said, "I am a
soldier, I obey." It was his extreme attempt to tell Maximus what he had
done was not because of personal resentment, but because had been obliged to do
so.
Maximus' eyes narrowed but before he could say something
they heard approaching footsteps. Quintus quickly stepped aside as Commodus
took his position in front of Maximus.
"Maximus. Maximus. Maximus." the emperor began
softly, "They call for you. The
general who became a slave. The slave who became a gladiator. The gladiator who
defied an emperor. A striking story. Now the people want to know how the story
ends. Only a famous death will do. What could be more glorious than to
challenge the emperor himself in the great arena."
Quintus saw Commodus place his finger alongside Maximus'
face, stroking it as he speaked. He also saw Maximus face grimace with anger
and then show wonder, incredulity, as he registered Commodus' last words.
Maximus wrenched his face free and asked, "You would
fight me?"
"Why not? Do you think I am afraid?"
"I think you have been afraid all your life."
"Unlike Maximus the invincible, who knows no
fear?"
Commodus' tone was sarcastic and Maximus replied
laughing, "I knew a man who once said, death smiles at us all. All that
man can do is smile back."
"I wonder. Did your friend smile at his own
death?"
Maximus leaned back on his chains, and slightly bending
his head to the side he replied, "You must know. He was your father."
"You loved my father, I know. But so did I. That
makes us brothers, doesn't it?" Commodus embraced Maximus and, in front of
Quintus' horrified eyes, stabbed him with the dagger that has been hidden in
his sleeve. As blood began to pour, he kissed the wounded man on the neck.
"Smile for me now, brother!"
With a feral light in his eyes Commodus turned to Quintus
and ordered, "Strap on his armour. Conceal the wound."
*****
Paolina was awaiting the beginning of the final match.
Its opponents had not yet been announced, and the crowd murmured restlessly in
speculation. Paolina hoped against hope that Quintus' information had been
wrong- that the emperor did not truly intend to challenge her husband. And
where was the army? They should be here by now! The dazzling hot sun had begun
its descent in the horizon. The games had stretched on far longer than they
should, building to their final event.
At last, the quiet rumble erupted in a full-scale roar
as, around the little arena, children and attendants began to pour buckets of
rose-petals into the breeze. In the center of the open space, a trap door had
open. The deep shadows contrasting strikingly with the harsh whiteness of the
sand.
Very slowly, a platform was raised to the surface. At
first, the form seemed to be a block of solid black, but as it moved into the
sunlight, she could see that it was a formation made of the interlocked shields
of a squad of Praetorians. Around her, the spectators squirmed in anticipation,
waiting for the men to break apart and reveal the gladiators within.
At last, the shape broke. Two dozen guard ran to form a
large circle. Left at its center, clad in simple black armor, and looking oddly
off-balance was Paolina's husband. Beside him, in radiant white was the emperor
Commodus.
There was silence, at first. No one knew quite what to
make of the sight. Gradually, however, recognition finally made its way through
the crowd, and their sounds of delight wafted over the general's wife. No one
was brave enough to cheer for the Spaniard- they knew, intuitively that this
match could only have one conclusion- but they cried out wildly in appreciation
of the novel spectacle.
Paolina clenched the fabric of her tunica in her sweaty
hands. "Please gods, protect him, please gods...." she cried out
inside, feeling completely helpless from her distance only a few hundred feet
away. She drew a tense breath as Commodus accepted a sword, which he held
aloft, seeking the crowd's approval.
Paolina's eyes flickered over the hateful figure very
briefly, then returned to Maximus. She noticed again that his stance was
unsteady. He seemed....weak....and his tunic was stained with something dark on
his left side. With a little gasp, Paolina realized that Quintus' suspicions
were correct. Commodus had secured a secret advantage. It was not a fair fight.
*****
On the arena floor, Quintus swallowed drily as he watched
Maximus- once his dearest friend- sway unsteadily on his feet before bending to
the ground and rubbing the dry sand between his palms. The fight would happen.
There was still no sign of the army. No sign of other rescue. Hope was
beginning to die.
In spite of his painful wound, the Praetorian knew that
the former general was still deadly- Commodus was a fool to underestimate him.
With a pained gaze at the Praetorian commander, Maximus signaled for his sword.
Quintus took a step back, tossing the weapon in the sand in case his friend, at
the end of hope, decided to attack him as well.
Maximus struggled painfully for the sword, barely
grasping it before charging at the Emperor. The battle had begun. Commodus'
skill was impressive, and he seemed to parry away the initial attacks easily.
For every strike, he would reply with even greater force, and the two men
seemed locked in a powerful, surprisingly even battle. They moved throughout
the tight circle of guards, primal growls ripped from their throats in the
desperation of their battle. At last, Maximus seemed to gain an advantage. He
tripped his opponent, and Commodus rolled onto his back in the dust as the
general prepared a final blow- but the boy was too quick. In a flash, he was on
his feet again, wounding Maximus' leg and spinning his blade forward with
enormous force, almost falling backwards when it collided with Maximus' own
gladius. The blades hissed together, and then Maximus turned away, catching the
emperor's arm with a searing kiss of steel.
The wound was unexpected. Commodus was not prepared for
the pain, and he blinked for a moment, the delay allowing Maximus to land
another hit to the arm and, more importantly, leaving his opponent disarmed.
This complication seemed to snap the emperor back to reality. His dark eyes
widened as he looked wildly for another weapon, so distracted that he did not
see the dreamy stupor that suddenly claimed the other man's face.
"Sword! Give me your sword!"
Quintus' back stiffened. The remark was addressed to him.
He had another choice to make- Commodus or Maximus. Where
did his future lie? Where did his loyalty lie? In the crazed and bleeding emperor?
Or with his one-time friend, even now walking as though he were reaching into
another world.
In the end, the choice was not difficult to make. He had
sacrificed too much of his soul already. "Strength and honor." He
called mentally to his former commander. He ignored the emperor's rage filled
eyes.
His hand remained still.
More frightened than enraged, Commodus swung toward the
other Praetorians. "Sword!" he yelled hoarsely. There was a rustling
as men reached for their weapons.
Quintus watched them, his face paling as he arrived at
the moment of truth. He would lead. But, would they follow? "Sheath your
swords!"
Hesitation.
Compliance.
Growling in rage, Commodus reached toward the sleeve of
his bloody arm, and the onlookers gasped in horror as he retrieved a long
hidden dagger. He lunged toward his still dazed opponent, nearly reaching him
before Maximus sprung back to life. His nearness to mortality seemed to fill
him with superhuman power. He connected his fist to the emperor's jaw and then
caught his head and the sharp bone of his elbow, finally grabbing his collar
and hauling him mercilessly to his feet. Commodus tried to raise the dagger to
strike, but Maximus' control was too tight, and the Caesar's eyes bulged in
horror as the blade was finally turned toward his own throat. He continued to
struggle, even as the blade pierced his skin, his find, desperate blows
glancing impotently off Maximus' back.
Another look, this time of disbelief, and then a gurgle
of blood before Maximus buried the
weapon in Commodus' throat, pressing until only the hilt protruded, then
dropped his grip, allowing the man to crumple to his knees.
The emperor was dead.
No one breathed.
The entire city of Rome seemed to be packed inside the
great stadium, but nearly total silence reigned. No one knew what to say, or
even what to feel, so they all stared dumbly at the corpse. It was Quintus who
tore his eyes away first. He looked at Maximus, who was staring glass-eyed into
the sand, as though he saw something....
"Maximus?"
Taking a step forward, Maximus raised his hand, pushing
on an imaginary door.
"Maximus!"
Blinking and disoriented, the general turned at last.
"Quintus, free my men. Senator Gracchus is to be reinstated... There was a
dream that was Rome, it shall be realized-these are the wishes of Marcus
Aurelius."
Quintus felt tears welling in his eyes. His friend had
sacrificed so much. He couldn't die now- not when he had finally won! He turned
to the Praetorians,"Free the prisoners, ...go!" Again, he was almost
amazed when they obeyed.
A sudden movement recaptured his attention, and Quintus
cried out in alarm as he saw Maximus surrender his consciousness and fall to
the dirt...
*****
As soon as Commodus' body fell limply to the ground
Paolina left her place in the stands and rushed down the stairs, wanting only
to reach her husband.
Since the other onlookers were too stunned to move, she
was able to arrive to the arena ring in few moments, slipping between two
surprised Preatorians before they where able to catch her. With horror she saw
that Maximus had collapsed and crossing the arena, she knelt in the sand and
took him in her arms. She gently raised his head and called,
"Maximus?"
He opened his eyes slowly and focused them on her face, a
little smile appearing on his lips. "Selene....you are here....You are
safe...Marcus is safe..." he whispered, touching her face with the
fingertips of his bloody right hand.
"Don't give up, darling, soon you will be safe as well." Paolina raised her head, and
with her eyes full of tears shouted to the little crowd that surrounded them,
"A doctor! Please, somebody fetch a doctor." Quintus nodded and
rushed away. Paolina's attention returned to Maximus and she saw he had closed
his eyes. She squeezed his hand, but he did not respond. Her shoulders began to
shake with incontrollable sobs as terror gripped her and she said between the
tears, "Please, Maximus don't die.....You can't leave us now....We need
you...Please darling, fight, you can't give up now! Fight, Maximus, fight
.....please...." she continued to repeate those words like a mantra until
Quintus returned with a man who prontly knelt beside Maximus.
"Help me to remove this armor." the physician
told her.
Paolina tried to do so but her hands were shaking too
badly to open the buckles.
"Let me help." whispered Lucilla, kneeling
beside her, and Paolina nodded grateful, returning to take Maximus' head in her
lap. He had lost his senses, but he was still alive and Paolina kept on talking
to him, caressing his pale and sweaty face, and urging him to resist.
*****
The doctor worked for much time to stabilize Maximus'
wound enough to be able to move him but in the end he nodded and a covered
wagon approached.
With the help of the many men lingering there Maximus was
put on a stretcher and boarded on the wagon. Paolina and the doctor went with
him.
The driver reined the horses, turning them and asked to Lucilla, "Where to, my
Lady?"
"To the imperial palace, quickly. I will follow
shortly."
"Yes, my Lady."
The whip cracked over the horses and the wagon trotted
away.
Lucilla watched til the it was disappeared from view and
then turned to Quintus. "Secure the city. Close the gates, send men to
patrol the streets and put Senator Falco under survelliance."
Quintus nodded and barked orders to his men. He wanted to
go home to tell Aelia the nightmare was ended but he could not leave his place
now. It was clear that Lucilla and Gracchus were referring to him to keep the
city under control and he would not disappoint them.
55
Night had fallen on Rome, but in a room of the Imperial
palace two men were fighting for life. One to survive and one to help him.
Paolina, Lucilla, and Gracchus were waiting in a big hall. The servants had
placed food on the low tables but nobody was hungry. Paolina was sleeping on
the a couch, her head resting against Lucilla's shoulder, her eyes puffy from
tears and her face pale, as the empress stared at her hands.
Gracchus was quietly tapping his fingers on his knee,
thinking about the senate meeting he needed to summon for the next day.
Quintus walked in the hall having just finished an
inspection and whispered, "News?"
Gracchus and Lucilla shook their heads and Quintus began
to pace back and forth the marble pavement.
Suddently a noise of commotion attracted his attention
and he saw a man with long white hair running along the hallway, followed
closely by two Praetorians.
"What's going on?" Quintus shouted, blocking
the stranger.
"I am sorry, sir...we don't know how he was able to
slip inside...and.." one of the
guards rambled nervously.
"Let me go!" the man said, freeing himself from
Quintus' grip. "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"Maximus, who else?" said the man impatiently.
Quintus frowned, "Listen, I don't know how you were able
to enter here but..."
"Manlius!!" Paolina's voice cut his words and
Quintus turned to see Maximus' wife run to the stranger and embrace him,
"Thanks to the Gods you are here!" she said, tears menacing to fall
again, "You must help him, Manlius, please."
"Shh, Paolina. You know he is my favorite patient, I
will do everything ...Now take me to his room."
Quintus blinked as he finally recognized the former camp
doctor- though much older than he had seemed the last time they met.
Paolina composed herself and led Manlius to the room
where Maximus was fighting for his life.
Manlius thanked her and whispered, "Go now, I will
call if you are needed."
Paolina nodded and reluctantly returned to the others.
"Who is he?" asked Gracchus.
"A surgeon from the Felix Legion. He has known
Maximus since he was a boy."
Lucilla frowned, "But what is he doing in
Rome?"
Paolina sighed, "I don't know, but I am glad he is
here." she sat back on the couch as the wait resumed.
After some minutes of silence Paolina spoke again,
"Quintus?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think that you should tell Aelia where you
are? It is late and I am sure she is worried about you."
Quintus opened his mouth to reply but Lucilla spoke
first, "It is not necessary, Quintus. I guessed you would be busy and so I
took the liberty of sending a squad of Praetorians to inform your wife you
would be late....." Lucilla's voice stopped as she saw Quintus become
deathly pale.
"When did you send them?" He said quickly, and,
without waiting for an answer, he sped from the room.
*****
He should have gotten a horse- but the thought of waiting
for an animal to be saddled was unbearable, and so he simply ran, ignoring the
odd looks as he scurried through the endless corridors of the palace and then,
out into the winding streets of Rome.
"Aelia!" He screamed as he, finally, reached
the house. He pounded on the front door- already locked against the night, and
waited breathlessly for a wary looking slave to answer the door.
"Sir, I-"
Quintus brushed past the attendant, hurrying through the
house to his bedroom.
Nothing.
"Aelia!" He screamed again, running down the
hall to the nursery. "Aelia!!!!"
"She's gone." The nurse, who was the only
occupant of the room said, looking up from her seat as Quintus entered the
room. "She took the children with her when the Praetorian's came."
"Where?" His throat was raw from screaming.
"Where did she take them?"
The woman merely shrugged.
"Aelia!" He was looking in every room now,
illogically turning over the chairs to search for her. At last, he discovered
that he was in Clara's room again- having made a complete circuit throughout
the house, feeling exhausted and spent, he sank to his knees, not bothering to
check the hot tears that sprang to his eyes.
He walked to the window, his face tight with pain. Was he
too late? Would the Gods be so cruel? After all that Aelia and Quintus had
suffered to be together, would they be parted, at last, by death? Looking over
the neatly trimmed hedges, he caught a glimmer of white in the corner of his
eye, it looked like fabric blowing in the wind-a skirt.
Quintus' heart seemed to sieze in his chest, and he
pushed through the terrace doors in his daughter's room, jumping over the
marble rail and landing in the soft dirt below, his feet never slowing as he
crossed the yard toward the prone body of his beloved wife.
She was lying on her back, her head turned to the side as
though she were sleeping, one of the twins cradled in the crook of each elbow,
and Clara huddled against her chest. They were so still and pale!-- And yet, so
peaceful. Safe at last...from everything.
Gone.
The horror of loss came over Quintus so suddenly that he
doubled over in pain. He wanted to be sick, but his empty stomach admitted to
only painful, dry heaves that drove him to his knees on the grass. He lay
there, inches from Aelia's skirt, his mind so broken that he could almost
picture her breathing.
"Aelia." He moaned again.
It was no more than he deserved, but Aelia and the
children were so innocent!
"Quintus?"
He gasped in shock as Aelia's eys fluttered open,
disoriented, but definitely alive.
"Quintus?"
"Aelia!" He crawled toward her, careful not to
disturb the bodies of his children....were they alive to?
"Quintus!" Her body shuddered, and tears fell
from her eyes like rain in a suddenly breaking storm. "Quitus, you are
back....you're...."
"Shhh...." He leaned forward, brushing the back
of his hand across her cheek. "How...?"
"I...I couldn't do it." Her face was contorted
in agony. "Oh, Quintus. I tried...I tried...but it was like in the garden
in Gaul..."
Quintus shivered as he remembered the dark days when they
had not been permitted to marry- Aelia's tale of trying to cut herself with a
kitchen knife, but unable to find the will to do it.
"I'm sorry..." She shivered. "I'm sorry....what
will we do?"
"Do?" Quintus looked comfortingly into her wide
eyes. Oh, Gods...he realized at last. She doesn't know.... "Commodus is
dead." He whispered, kissing her cheek. "The Felix Legions have
returned to the city..."
She squinted, struggling through her hysteria to
interpret his meaning. "But, the Praetorians."
"Lucilla sent them....to tell you...she didn't know.
Oh, Aelia. It is over! We are safe."
If anything, the crying increased- tears of joy and
relief, a purge of the intense emotions that had been bottled inside for so
long. At last, her agitation woke Appius. His cries, in turn, woke Titus, and
then Clara too, so that the entire family was sitting in the shadows of the
garden, holding each other tightly, their faces smeared with tears.
"Where is your grandfather?" Quintus asked at
last, lifting his sons into his arms to carry inside to bed, while Aelia herded
Clara between her parents back to the house.
Aelia frowned. "He isn't with you?'
"No. When did you see him last?"
The look deepened. "When the Praetorian's
arrived....I was gathering the children...I thought..."
Her face whitened in alarm.
*****
Aelia's face was fizxed in a worried frown as she ran
into the house- even more so when she found her grandfather. His frail body was
slumped in a chair. He was wearing his uniform from the army- the heavy,
brightly polished sword laying across his lap, and his elegant general's cloak
flowing out behind him.
"Is he-?" Aelia began to ask, and then a loud
snore answered her question.
Quintus jumped at the sound. "Must *every* member of
your family scare me like this?" He asked, bemused.
Aelia smiled and blinked away the tear that had begun to
form in the corner of her eye. "Grandfather, wake up." She said,
shaking his shoulder gently.
The old man came instantly to attention, grabbing the
sword and brandishing it menacingly. "...won't get my family..." he
mumbled as he as pulled away from the dream. Seeing Aelia, he lowered the
weapon. He looked between she and her husband.
"Granddaughter?"
"We are safe! Commodus is dead!" She said
joyously, reaching forward to give him a tight hug.
Claudius smiled distantly, letting the sword slip to the
floor. He was embarassed to admit that the mere act of getting dressed had
exhausted him. "That is wonderful!" He said, with feeling. Then,
frowning slightly, he turned to his grandson-in-law.
"Clarus? Is it safe for *us*....." He looked
meaningfully at the Praetorian armor that the younger man still wore.
Quintus nodded. "Yes, general." He still called
the man by his military appelation. "The Felix Legions are returning even
now to maintain order during the transition...Lucilla, Gracchus and I are
working on the details...." He looked at Aelia, wishing that he did not
have to say this in front of her. "I don't know, ultimately, what my
punishment will be. However, I am sure that Aelia and the children will be
safe."
The old man clapped his protégé on the shoulder. It was a
gesture of respect. A gesture that said he was proud that the man had done the
right thing.
"I should return to the palace soon." Quintus
continued, squeezing Aelia's hand. "I should check on Maximus' condition
and make sure that the populace is still under control."
Claudius nodded vaguely- already drifting back to sleep.
"Strength and honor." He murmured.
Quintus smiled, feeling he had finally earned the right
to say the words again. "Strength and honor."
*****
When the door to Maximus' room finally opened dawn had
just begun and a pale sun was extending its shining fingers inside the palace
hall were two women and a man had fallen asleep. Soon, very soon the city of
Rome would awake and important polical decisions would have to be taken.
Manlius walked near Paolina and gently shook her
shoulder.
The woman's eyes snapped open and they looked at him full
of fear until she became aware of the tired smile on his face. "He is
awake now. You can see him, but only for few minutes."
Paolina sprung up from the couch, embraced the old
surgeon, and ran in the bedroom.
*****
Maximus was pale and tired but his eyes were full of
life. Paolina walked to the bed and, kneening near it, took Maximus' hand
between hers and kissed it, "How are you feeling?"
"As if a chariot passed over me." he whispered
and Paolina smiled, delighted he had the strength and the will to joke.
"Manlius will put you back on your feet soon."
Paolina brushed gently his sweat soaked hair from his forehead.
"Yes." Maximus' voice was drowsy and she was
that his eyes were closing.
"Sleep now, darling. I will be here when you wake
up."
Her husband nodded as Morfeus' arms enveloped him.
She remained several minutes, watching his bandaged chest
rise and fall and then, with a last kiss on his cheek, she left him alone
exiting the chamber.
56
A week later Quintus was nervously walking back and
forward in front of Maximus' bedroom in the Imperial palace. Soon, very soon
the confrontation that he had been fearing for the past seven days would
happen.
Commodus' death had no caused major problems. Rome had
taken the news with joy and Quintus, together with Senator Gracchus and Lucilla
had installed an ad interim government. However it was clear that a
strong man was needed on the throne and the populace was adamant on wanting
Maximus. Even now Quintus could hear the crowd assembled under the windows of
the Imperial palace call for his friend. The problem was that Maximus did not
want the job. However, Lucilla and
Gracchus were still hopeful he would accept.
Finally the door of what had once been Marcus Aurelius'
room opened and Quintus was showed inside by a steward.
Maximus was waiting for him sitting on the bed, his legs
stretched out in front of him, wearing only a white linen long shirt and a
burgundy robe. He was still pale but it was clear that his wounds were healing
well.
Quintus stopped in front of him and assumed an
at-attention position, his arms behind his back, his back straight and his head
held up.
Maximus looked at him in silence for several seconds and
then said, "Quintus, look at me."
Quintus did so and
saw that Maximus did not seem angry.
"We need to talk." the general added quietly
and Quintus nodded.
Another moment of embarassed silence insued, then the
Praetorian began, "Maximus, I know there are no words to tell you how
sorry I am for what happened and I will not search for excuses for my actions.
I put my family's safety before our friendship and you paid the price for it. I
can't ask you to forgive me, but I beg you to spare Aelia and the children...I
know you did the same and I did not listen to you, but I also know you are a
better man than me." Saying so Quintus resumed his at-attention stance and
awaited the words which would condemn him.
But those words never came. Instead he heard the sheets
rustle and then he felt Maximus' hand on his shoulder. "I don't want to
kill you, Quintus," the former general said softly, "You too suffered
under Commodus and I think it was enough of a punishment. We will never speak
of what happened in Germania again. I did my duty and you did yours. It was as
simple as that. From now on we will speak only of the future, all right?"
Quintus released the breath he had not been aware that he
was holding and looked into Maximus' eyes, "Thank you." he whispered.
Maximus smiled and returned to his bed.
"Would you like to maintain your position as Prefect
of the Praetorium?"
The question caught Quintus of surprise, "It depends
on who will sit on the throne."
Maximus smiled again and widened his arms, "What
about me?"
"Have you decided to accept?" Quintus was
almost incredulous.
Maximus nodded seriously, "Yes, it was Marcus
Aurelius' wish. I know it will not be a easy task, but it is my duty.....my
destiny."
Quintus smiled, "You will be a great Caesar, I know
it. And I will be honoured to be at your side."
"Good, I will need someone to restrain me from
strangling Gracchus...." Maximus pointed to a table that was covered by
scrolls, "Do you see those? As soon as I told Gracchus I was accepting the
position of Protector of Rome, he bolted from this room and returned with that
mountain of scrolls .....He said they are just 'few' things I need to know
before the next senate meeting.....and he added he will bring more of them this
afternoon."
Quintus laughted aloud upon seeing his friend's disgusted
face and then said, "Well, Sire, it will be better if you begin to read
those or you will be buried under them when Gracchus returns with another
load!" And speaking thus he walked to the table, picked up all the scrolls
and deposited them on the bed. Then he pushed a chair near Maximus, sat down
and reaching out, put a scroll in his hand before picking another for himself.
"Here," he said, "One for me and one for you."
The new Protector of Rome shook his head with amusement
and then, breaking the seal, began to read the papyrus as Quintus did the same
near him.
*****
Few days later, Paolina and Aelia were in the imperial
palace gardens.
Aelia was sitting on a low couch -- her pregnancy was
beginning to show and she was grateful to stay off her feet --while her cousin
was walking around her, pretending to admire the flowers.
Suddenly Paolina returned to sit near her and exclaimed
for the umpteeth time, "Oh Aelia, how can I ever do it? I am not an
empress, I am only a country woman! I don't know anything about high lady manners.....and
I can't stand to have a court of servants and ladies in waiting following me
everywhere. They don't permit me to do anything! Yesterday I tried to prepare a
bath for Maximus but the chief chamber servant stopped me....he was scandalized
that I tried to do such a low task by myself! I bet now they are comparing my
manners with Lucilla's....and I am losing in every field." Paolina bowed
her head mortified.
Aelia smiled then said, "Calm down, Paolina. You are
nervous because all of this is new to you, but you must remember that it is new
for the servants too. With time you will see that YOU are in charge and not
them. Also, let me say to you that your manners are not so bad as you
believe.....You are much better than many high born ladies I've met in my years
living in Rome. And that, of course, makes me proud because it means all my
lessons about how a proper lady would behave were not wasted breath!"
Paolina raised her eyes, "Do you really believe it?
Or are you only trying to cheer me up?"
"I would never lie to the most powerful lady in the
Empire!"
"Oh why did you say that? I was beginning to relax!"
Paolina and Aelia
laughted and then laid back against the soft cushions of their chairs until a
servant politely attracted their attention.
"Yes?" asked Paolina.
"My lady, the carriage from Gaul is just arrived.
The little prince is waiting for you."
"The little prince?" Paolina was momentarily
confused, and then she smiled. "Marcus!" Instantly forgetting all her
manners, Paolina bolted from the couch and rushed to meet her son, followed by
the amused - and understanding - gazes of Aelia and all the servants.
EPILOGUE
Maximus Decimus Maridas reigned for 13 years, first as Protector
of Rome and then as Caesar, when it became clear that the Senate was still
unready to assume the control of the vast empire. He longed to carry out Marcus
Aurelius' wishes but in the end he realized that it was impossible to transform
the dream into reality. Under his reign, Rome knew a long period of peace,
wealth and reform. He was helped in his duty by his official advisors --
Senator Gracchus, Quintus and Lucilla -- and by his private one, Paolina.
In 194AD Maximus abdicated and named as his successor
another provincial general, his charismatic and able friend Lucius Septimius
Severus.
Quintus Clarus remained as Prefect of the Praetorium for the duration of
Maximus' reign, acting as the right hand of his former commander. When the time
came for Maximus' resignation, Prefect Clarus did not step forward to take his
place. Instead, he involved himself in senate politics, returning each night to
his wife and five children (including Clara Minor, and finally little Quintus
born five years later) and their house on the Viminal Hill.
At last, the former emperor and his family returned to Hispania and the
wide, fertile fields that they loved. Maximus and Paolina rebuilt the villa
(though, perhaps on a somewhat grander scale) and settled in to live out their
lives in happiness and obscurity. Only Marcus was restless. He had spent his
most formative years in the sprawling capitol, and he longed to return. He
joined the army as his father had before him and after four years, he began his
cursus honorum (political career), being accepted in the senate at age
twenty five.
Apparently, it was more than the memories of white marble columns and
shining monuments that drew Maximus' and Paolina's son to Rome- they were
surprised, but pleased, to receive a somewhat flustered letter from Quintus
reporting that Marcus had requested to marry his older daughter. Permission was
granted. Maximus and Paolina returned
to Rome to attend the ceremony, and took great pleasure in watching their son
find happiness in a marriage nearly as harmonious as their own.
At forty-three, Aelia fell ill with fever and died. Although he was
heartbroken, Quintus took comfort in the large family she had left behind. He
returned to the army, serving in the position that Maximus had once held-
Commander of the Northern Legions- until his death at age fifty-two.
Destiny was kinder and less glorious for Maximus and Paolina. They lived to
old age, alternating their time between Rome and Hispania, enjoying each
other's company and love and that of the numerous grandchildren Marcus and
Clara gave to them.
THE END