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