Glaucus' Story
Chapter 6 - Leaving Home, May A.D. 198
As Glaucus placed the final few items into his pack and pulled the leather drawstrings closed he glanced out the window to gauge the weather. The clear sky held the promise of good traveling and he would be heading north away from the worst of the heat. He slapped his hands together as if dusting them then placed them on his slim hips as he mentally checked-off the items he had packed in two traveling bags that would sit behind his saddle. His needs were few: four short tunics -- black -- like the one he was wearing. A more formal long toga, also black, and a long black cape for inclement weather.
He also packed black calf-high boots and another pair of leather sandals.Toiletries and undergarments completed the first bag. In the other were provisions to last three weeks if he ate light, which he guessed would get him to his destination. Along the way he would stop at inns if possible but, otherwise, sleep outside wherever he could find shelter. He had spent weeks pumping his uncle Persius for information about the roads and towns from Spain to Germania and felt that he was prepared to face whatever he might encounter.
His dog, Zeus lay sprawled in front of the door, seemingly relaxed, but the animal¹s ears twitched and Glaucus knew that he was alert to every movement and sound. Persius had urged him to take the dog with him for company and protection and Glaucus finally agreed despite his uncertainty that the animal was prepared for such a trek. He ran a hand over his bearded face as he considered, once again, the journey he was about to undertake. He was ready -- more than ready. He had spent five years preparing for it. Early the next morning he¹d fasten his sword at his hip -- the ornate scabbard intricately incised with gold and silver, as was the bronze handle of his sword and knife -- sling his bow over his shoulder, saddle Ultor and be on his way. He was more than ready.
His hand stopped massaging his chin when he heard a timid knocking at the door. "Come in," he called out.
Augusta, the woman who had raised him as her own son, pushed open the door with her shoulder (causing Zeus to scramble for a less busy place to sprawl) her hands clutching a wrapped package that smelled like fresh baking. "I just made some of your favorite biscuits and thought you¹d like to take them with you," she said as she hurried to the bed where his closed bags lay.
"I¹m sure you¹ve room for just one more parcel of food, Glaucus." She kept her eyes down as she yanked at the drawstrings, her fingers fumbling in her haste.
The young man approached her and took the parcel from her shaking hands.
"Thank you, Mama, I¹ll add them later. I appreciate your making them for me.They smell delicious." He placed the parcel on the bed then swung his aunt into his arms and pressed her black-clad body to his chest before kissing her forehead. That was all it took to activate the flood of tears that she had been bottling for days. She clutched his tunic and sobbed as he held her tight, understanding that she needed to release her repressed emotions. The death of her father-in-law, Marcus, last week had signaled Glaucus' imminent departure and the double loss was very hard for her to bear. He shushed her as he embraced her. "I¹ll be back, I promise. This is just a journey. I¹ll come home."
Over her head, Glaucus saw his uncle Titus in the doorway and gestured for him to come in. The older man smiled ruefully and shrugged, indicating his helplessness at his wife's display. He also carried a package and he sat on the bed while Glaucus tenderly released Augusta so she could blow her nose and dab her reddened eyes. Tears still spilling, she sat beside her husband who wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.
Glaucus sighed, hating to be the cause of such sadness. "I¹m so sorry--," he started.
"No need to apologize at all," Titus interrupted. "We have known for years that this day was coming. It¹s just that we clung to a futile hope that it could be delayed as long as possible. You¹re a man now -- you¹ll be twenty-one soon -- and it's time for you to do what you need to do. We know that. It doesn¹t mean that we will miss you any less, though." He regarded the young man that he had raised as his son with pride. Glaucus had grown tall and strong, his tan body lithe and muscular from years of wielding a heavy sword, practicing with his bow and riding his horse. His thick brown hair still flopped over his forehead in unruly waves, though, and his green eyes glittered like emeralds. More than a few young, eligible ladies would grieve his departure, as well as some older and not so eligible ones, Titus knew.
Titus stretched his hand towards Glaucus, the packet resting on his palm.
"What¹s this?"
"Take it. I had it made for you."
Hesitantly, Glaucus reached for the parcel. This was not a family that was inclined to give gifts for other than the most special occasion and he felt slightly uneasy. "Should I open it now?"
Titus nodded, barely able to restrain his excitement. "Please."
Glaucus backed up a few steps and sank into the padded chair by the window, this bedroom as familiar to him as his own hand. He picked at the ribbon, trying to still the tremor in his fingers as his aunt sniffled nearby. He had been fine until now, his emotion contained by his preoccupation with trip preparations. But now... well, there was no way to avoid it now. He swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the lump in his throat, as he lifted the lid off the elegant enameled box -- and gasped. Inside, on a cushion of white satin, lay a round golden fibula studded with jewels. Glaucus was stunned. He had never bothered with adornment so the gift was unexpected and overwhelming. He simply stared at it, his jaw slack.
"It¹s for your cloak," Titus said helpfully. As Glaucus continued to gape Titus added, "To fasten it... you know... a cloak fastener." He pointed to his shoulder to demonstrate where it should be worn. "You¹ll need your cloak in Germania. The nights can be cool."
Glaucus nodded and drew an unsteady breath as he lifted the precious object from the box. It was remarkably heavy and obviously solid gold. "You had it made?" was all he could think to say, his normally deep voice sounding insubstantial to his own ears.
"Yes, it's to take the place of your bulla -- to give you strength and protection on your journey." Titus rose and moved to stand beside Glaucus.
He pointed at the jewels that winked in the late afternoon sun. "There are five gems in a circle... see?" he asked as he pointed to them one by one.
"They represent your family, Glaucus. The ruby is for your father, Maximus, because it's a symbol of his strength, power and courage." Glaucus nodded mutely as his uncle continued. "The opal is for Olivia because its beauty is described as 'dark fire' just like your mother's. The jet stone is for Marcus because he was dark like his mother. The amber represents Maxima because it's not a mature stone yet, just as Maxima never had the opportunity to grow up. And you¹re the emerald, of course, and I'm sure you can guess why."
Titus clasped the young man's trembling hand to steady it while he finished.
"And the large sapphire in the middle represents the entire family -- the rest of us -- because it symbolizes quiet love and we will always be here for you no matter where you go or how long you are gone."
Glaucus closed his fingers around the beautiful fibula and squeezed his eyes shut, totally overcome.
"You like it?" Titus asked hopefully.
Glaucus could only nod. He tried to say 'thank you' but no sound escaped through the tightness in his throat.
Distressed by the young man's intense reaction, Augusta rung her hands and added helpfully, "If... if you¹re going to insist on wearing nothing but black it¹ll give your clothing a bit of...of color."
Glaucus laughed, a strangled sound that ended in what suspiciously resembled a sob. Trust Augusta to worry about how he looked.
Augusta rose and grabbed her husband's hand, pulling him towards the door, sensitive to Glaucus' need to be alone at the moment. As they shut the door they heard the quiet, tear-filled, "Thank you."
Glaucus sat astride Ultor at the gate to Maximus' estate -- now his own -- and held the young stallion with a firm hand. The animal snorted and pranced, tonguing the bit in an attempt to take control but his rider would not allow it. Glaucus patted the gleaming black neck. "Be still, Ultor.
You¹ll have more than enough exercise soon." Ultor was only two years old but had already surpassed any other animal at the farm in terms of strength, speed and spirit. He was a direct throw-back to his sire's sire -- the stallion that had fathered Maximus' two horses, Argento and Scarto -- and he was worthy of an emperor. But no emperor would ever own this stallion, as Glaucus had quickly claimed the foal for himself, training him with a firm but loving hand. The result was a formidable black stallion who would submit to no man but one.
From a distance, the man and horse must have been a frightening sight.
Dressed in the black cloak, Glaucus blended with the stallion as if they were one -- a mythological centaur -- half man and half horse. The only touch of color was the man's tan face and his lush brown hair as well as the inscribed jeweled fibula that caught the sunrise and tossed it back to the sky with sparks of fire and shards of ice.
During that past five years Glaucus had continued to work on his family's horse farm but spent every leisure hour at his own estate. In that time he had lovingly and obsessively restored it to the condition it had been in before that dreadful day in early 180 when his life had been altered so drastically. The house had been scrubbed, re-built with pink stones, white marble, polished wood and red tile. Workers had reclaimed the soil from the weeds, fruit trees flourished once more and wheat shimmered like rippled gold under the endless sunny skies. It was a source of pride as well as income for Glaucus -- and it is what his father would have wanted.
The house was empty, though, despite outward appearances to the contrary.
Glaucus could not bring himself to live in that place that was alive with the spirits of his dead family. It was not that he was afraid, he just felt that he didn’t deserve it yet. He didn¹t deserve them yet. He still had work to do.
Glaucus turned Ultor and headed back down the road that would take him past the only home he had ever known and on to Germania, Zeus trotting at the horse's heels . His grandfather had died one week ago and the young man had fulfilled his promise to stay until that time. He would continue to wear the color of mourning for his grandfather... and for his mother and brother and sister for whom he had never donned the outward symbols of his grief. It was time to do that too -- to express his anger, grief and outrage to the world.
As for his father... well, the black expressed his unbearable loss of the man he craved with an ache that almost consumed him. Whether he was dead or alive... Maximus wasn’t here where he should be.
And someone would pay dearly for that.
Chapter 7 – Germania, Vindobona
Glaucus pulled open the heavy wooden door of the tavern in Vindobona and his nostrils immediately twitched at the delicious smells of rich spices andonion. His stomach growled in response and he wasted no time in elbowing his way to an empty table through the busy throng of customers partaking of their noon meal. It was warm outside and hot in the low-ceilinged tavern as the open windows failed to catch any air. His attire attracted a few curious stares and nods of sympathy. He was used to it. It was unusual to see a man dressed in a black tunic. Even for mourning, the toga, not the tunic was normally black, so he was a curiosity indeed. In deference to the heat, though, his cape was pushed back off his shoulders and his arms and legs were bare. He wore leather sandals that laced up his muscular calves.His presence did not go unnoticed by the serving girl who abandoned her grumbling customers in the middle of an order to greet the newcomer. "Hello, sir. I've never seen you in here before and I'm sure that I would remember."
She smiled a toothy smile but her teeth were crooked and brown.
"I've just arrived in town," replied Glaucus, not wanting to engage the girl in conversation.
"In that case you'll be looking for a place to stay, sir. There's an inn the other side of the market and it sometimes has rooms available if you get there early enough."
"Is it clean?" asked Glaucus as he eyed the girl's stained apron, not sure if he trusted her evaluation of the inn's suitability.
"Oh, sure. It's sparkling clean and it provides lots of services for men like yourself," she winked broadly, "if you know what I mean."
Glaucus ignored her. "What's good today?"
"Well, the minced meat patty is excellent, nicely spiced and with pine kernels and peppercorns. It's served on a freshly-baked roll--"
"That will be fine."
She pouted none too prettily and tossed her blonde braids. "Don't you want to hear what else we have?"
"No, the meat patty will be fine. And I'd like some wine, please. Chilled, if possible."
She appraised him with expert eyes, evaluating his arms then his left leg which was visible beside the table. "I like a man who knows what he wants."
Glaucus pulled in his leg. "Is the army camp far from here?"
"Who're you looking for, honey?" She stepped back and appraised him again.
"You're not a soldier, are you? You don't look like a soldier."
"I don't?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Well... you¹re not dressed like a soldier and your hair is far too pretty and you've got such pretty green eyes--"
"Soldiers can't have green eyes?" He was getting impatient with her.
She dismissed his curtness as a product of his mourning and she leaned close to him, her perspiration assaulting his nose. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said seriously.
Glaucus involuntarily pulled away from her. "Thank you. Now, would you place my order? Please?"
She graced him with one last smile as she flounced away, her hips, and all other parts of her body in exaggerated motion. Hungry patrons immediately beckoned her but she ignored them, heading for the kitchen to do his bidding.
Glaucus was pressed into a corner and he leaned back in his chair until he was balanced on only the back two legs. Despite his relaxed appearance, his quick eyes surveyed the room's occupants for potential purveyors of information. Most of the men seemed to be locals -- merchants and farmers -- with the odd man looking like he could be an off-duty soldier. An eclectic bunch, some men were dressed in Roman togas and some were dressed in local costume of trousers and shirts. He laughed at his own sense of disappointment. What had he expected? That a man would recognize his resemblance to the late Roman general, Maximus, and sit down at his table?
A man in a toga sat down at his table.
Glaucus dropped the front legs of his chair to the floor with a thud as he looked at his uninvited guest. The man extended his hand which Glaucus slowly accepted. "You new here?" the man asked, his voice slightly slurred from his mainly liquid lunch.
"I just arrived in town."
"I'm Carius, Vindobona¹s prefect. You are...?"
"My name is Glaucus."
"Glaucus... an odd name."
He shrugged. "It's suitable."
"You a Spaniard?"
"...Yes."
"I can tell by your accent. Used to have a general around here who was a Spaniard. Mind you he never used to come into town much."
Glaucus felt a surge of energy course through him and he forced himself to remain calm. He had no idea that a contact would happen so fast. He chose his words with care. "Hispania is a large territory. I'm sure you have many Spaniards here."
"Not many. Just the ones in the army. I hear the weather is better in Hispania. Not much reason to come here, I suppose. Which route did you take?"
"Through the Alps."
Carius grunted. "Much shorter route but you can hit some nasty weather sometimes."
"I must have been lucky."
"That your horse outside? The black stallion?"
"Ultor... yes. Why?"
"Don't very often see anyone other than army officials on horses like that."
The prefect was obviously prying for information. Glaucus wondered if he was always this nosy. "My family breeds stallions for the army... and for royalty."
"Oh, so that's why you're here. You're selling horses."
Glaucus simply smiled. Let the man believe what he wished.
Carius cast a bloodshot eye over the young man's fine-wool black tunic and appraised the golden fibula. "Must pay well. I¹d be very careful with a bauble like that if I were you."
"I am, believe me. There’s robber in Gaul with three missing fingers who fancied it."
Carius considered that information. "You in mourning?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Someone close?"
"Yes." Where was that serving girl?
"Oh, so sorry. My father is dead, my mother too. A terrible loss," he added then sat back as the wine arrived.
With a tray balanced over her head the girl maneuvered her body so that her jiggling breasts were close to Glaucus' face. She was so busy looking at him that she failed to notice when the full goblet of wine she picked off the tray tipped and added yet another stain to her apron. "I sent a boy over to the inn and they're holding their best room for you."
Reluctantly, Glaucus dug into his pack for a coin and handed it to her.
"Oh, thank you, sir," she squealed. "You didn't have to do that!" But she quickly deposited the coin down the front of her dress where it no doubt nestled between her ponderous breasts.
"Another goblet for the prefect here, please. And I hope the food will come soon?" Glaucus hinted.
"I'll get it right away, sir."
Glaucus pushed his goblet towards the prefect who accepted it without question. The young man watched him down half of it then asked casually, "Who's the general here, now?"
"Vesnius. He’s the emperor's right-hand man so Septimius Severus comes here often. Used to be general here himself before he took his troops and marched on Rome." The prefect belched. " The general won't be here for long, though."
"No? Why not?"
"He has ambitions, that one, like all army leaders seem to these days. He spends his time --and the army's time -- battling political opponents rather than foreigners."
"So he's not a good general?"
"As good as any, I guess. His men certainly support him. They should. I've never seen soldiers with so much money or so much time on their hands to spend it."
"That must make you happy."
"Oh, it's good for Vindobona, no doubt about it. Not like it used to be, though, when soldiers got paid only what they were worth and they were loyal to their general because that general earned their loyalty. No, it's not like it used to be."
"Is the legion at camp right now?"
"No. No they're off somewhere doing who knows what. Don't know when they'll be back. They come and go as they please and don't let us know anything about it."
"Is the fortress far from town?"
"No, it's real close. Just keep going north on the main road and you'll come to it. It's right by the river."
Glaucus¹ wine and food arrived and he ignored the breasts that swung in his face as the girl placed a plate in front of him. "Are there many men with the legion who would have been here... maybe, twenty years ago?
"No, very few."
Glaucus' hopes fell.
"There's old Jonivus, though. He retired but decided to come back here because his son is buried here. He has a small house along the road and it's easy to spot. He was the army's chief engineer in Maximus' time, as he likes to remind people. Now those were the days of good soldiers, my young friend."
"Would you like some more wine, sir?" The older man shook his head but Glaucus gestured to the girl for another round anyway. He wanted to keep the man talking.
"Did you know General Maximus?" Glaucus tried to keep his tone casual.
"Not personally. In those days a general didn't mix much with the locals, but he was always there for us when we needed him. There was one terrible time when the tribes attacked Vindobona and Maximus evacuated the whole town first before he thought of himself or his men. He was a good man -- or at least we thought he was."
Glaucus was about to take a bite of the delicious-smelling patty but he slowly put it back onto his plate and stared levelly at Carius. "What do you mean by that?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you thought General Maximus was a good man. Why did you change your mind about him?"
"Well...," the tipsy prefect straightened his back, trying to muster some dignity appropriate to his office. "It was a terrible shock to everyone but we learned that he was plotting to overthrow the emperor and grab the title for himself. He was executed for it, just after the emperor died himself."
Carius gestured to the young man to lean close, which Glaucus did, and got a face-full of sour breath. "Some even think the emperor died first and that Maximus murdered the old man."
Glaucus jerked upright, his fists closed, his nails digging into his palms.
"That's insane," he growled. "He would have had nothing to gain by doing that. Commodus inherited the throne, not him."
Carius raised both hands trying to appease the stranger. "I'm just telling you what I've heard, that's all."
Glaucus’ appetite was completely gone now and he pushed his plate away.
Carius shook his head sadly. "I guess all men in that position have such ambitions. We just thought that General Maximus was different, that's all.
Instead, he proved to be just like all the rest of them."
Glaucus stroked his chin, a habit that he had when he was tense, tired or thoughtful. He couldn't bear hearing this. "Where can I find this man, Jonivus?"
"Head down the road to the fortress. You¹ll see his house on the left side. You can't miss it."
Glaucus rose without offering the man his hand. "Thank you. I appreciate your time," he said rather stiffly.
"Good luck selling your horses, young man. Ultor? Is that what you said your horse's name is?" Carius laughed. "Why did you name him that? Are you seeking vengeance?"
"You have no idea," muttered Glaucus bitterly as he slung his pack over his shoulder and pushed his way out of the crowded tavern.
Chapter 8 - Jonivus
Glaucus mounted Ultor and ignored the curious people who had gathered to admire the magnificent animal. They scattered quickly as he pulled the horse around and headed north on the central road. Like all Roman cities, this one was surrounded by a wall and laid out on a grid plan with gates at the four places where the two main roads and the walls intersected. The busy market was centrally located where woman shopped for foodstuffs for the day's meals and vendors hawked everything from fabric to small animals to weapons. Local craftsmen who worked in metal, leather and ceramics had stalls around the outside
but vendors also sold objects that were obviously Roman and Greek-made. Glaucus marveled at how similar all parts of the empire really were. Even most of the mid-town public buildings in Vindobona were stone with red tile roofs and colonnades supported by decorative Corinthian columns. Bronze and stone statues of the goddess Epona, a Celtic horse-goddess, shown riding side-saddle or posed between two horses, graced the buildings. No wonder the people had admired Ultor so much.
A tall, limestone column stood near the center of town. The bottom -- a large, four-sided stone -- was carved with images of the Roman god, Juno. On top of the intricately-carved column was a horse-riding figure whose upper half was human and lower half consisted of two entwined snakes.
As Glaucus headed north, though, the buildings started to change. Gone were the stone Roman-style public buildings. The road was dotted on both sides by individual dwellings and here, the people had clung to traditional structures and building materials.
The homes were made of wood, with sturdy vertical posts supporting wooden log walls and thatched roofs. The outside of some of the rectangular dwellings were covered in branches held in place by clay to keep out the moisture and the wind. These homes were similar to the farm houses that he had passed along the way as he had approached Vindobona.
Glaucus' eyes scanned the cobbled stone road as he headed towards the river. How many times had his father traveled this exact same route? Had his horse touched the exact same stones? Glaucus raised his face. Had his father gazed upon the exact same trees, felt a similar wind, smelled the sweet, wild blossoms? For some reason, Glaucus felt even closer to Maximus here, near his home camp, than he had in Spain. Maybe it was because this is where Maximus had spent so many of his adult years... or because this is where he had been betrayed.
Glaucus pulled Ultor up sharply, causing the horse to snort in dissatisfaction. Just ahead sat a solid stone house, one-story, with
a red tile roof and a blank facade except for a few small windows high in the wall. Roman... there was no question about it.
This had to belong to the engineer, Jonivus. The house was set well back from the road in a clearing of tall grass that was ringed with massive oaks and pines. If he didn't know better he would almost say that it looked deserted with no outward sign of care. Glaucus dismounted, tied Ultor to a tree well back from the road and ordered Zeus to stay with the horse.
He approached the building with caution, working his way down the overgrown path as weeds slapped his knees. It resembled a fortress. It was quite inhospitable, and he almost expected flaming arrows to come raining down on him. While standing on one foot and pulling a weed out of his sandal, he wrapped on the solid oak door three times, then picked weed seeds off his tunic as he waited. After a few minutes with no response, he knocked again. Still no response. Was Jonivus not at home?
Glaucus walked through the high grasses around to the south side of the house, it's stone wall as imposing as the front. There was no way of telling if anyone was inside. His ears detected a sound, though, and he slowly approached the back of the house. Placing his hand on the sun-warmed wall, he glanced around the corner into the rear of the property. An old man dug furiously at weeds that threatened to choke out the meager plants in his small vegetable garden. Not wanting to startle the man, Glaucus cleared his throat. No reaction. He coughed. Still no reaction. Was the old man hard of hearing like his grandfather had
been? He lingered by the corner of the house until the man finally clutched his lower back and straightened then turned. He was
short and stocky with an ample belly and skinny arms and legs. Despite looking straight at him, Jonivus didn't seem to notice him. Glaucus estimated his age to be somewhere in the sixties as his thinning hair was gray and his clean-shaven face heavily lined, with fleshy jowls and a bulbous nose. His linen tunic was unfashionably long and soiled with dirt, and he added another layer of grime by wiping his hands down his sides. Glaucus moved slightly and Jonivus finally caught site of the visitor.Immediately he raised his hoe in defense and Glaucus suppressed a smile. He called out to the man, "I come as a friend seeking information, sir."
The old man cupped his ear and Glaucus repeated his words, louder this time, as he slowly walked forward. Jonivus lowered the hoe and squinted his eyes. Glaucus moved slowly, his hands slightly away from his sides to show that he intended no harm.
"Your name is Jonivus, sir?"
"Who wants to know?" The voice was strong with no hint of an old-man's tremor.
"Glaucus, my name is Glaucus." He continued to approach.
"What kind of a name is Glaucus? What's your family name?" he demanded.
"I come seeking information, sir." He moved closer, the afternoon sun illuminating his face.
Jonivus squinted at him but there was a hesitancy in his words now and a puzzled frown on his face. "I talk to no man who will not reveal his name to me."
Glaucus moved close enough to touch the older man and said in his deep, rumbling voice, "I have come from Spain. My family
name is Decimus."
Jonivus shut his eyes and reeled, his stumble checked by Glaucus' strong arm. "Talk," he whispered. "Talk more," he demanded, his eyes still closed.
"I have come seeking information. I was told by the prefect of Vindobona that you might be able to help me."
Jonivus opened his eyes and blinked, a film obscuring their clarity. He took Glaucus' face between his arthritis-gnarled hands and whispered tentatively, "Marcus?"
Glaucus gasped. "No sir, I'm not Marcus."
The old man blinked his milky eyes and moved so close that their bodies almost touched, studying the young man's face as best he could. "You have his voice, you are his image."
Emotion tightened Glaucus' throat and he gulped a few times before he could continue. "Marcus was my brother, sir. He died many years ago."
Jonivus grasped the stranger's upper arms, the old man's cloudy eyes scanning his face, searching for truth. "Your father. You are your father's image. You have his voice. What is your full name?"
"M-Maximus Decimus Glaucus, sir." Glaucus stumbled over the name that he never used and balled his hands into fists to control his trembling. "I... I am the youngest son of General Maximus Decimus Meridius."
Jonivus' gnarled hands dug into Glaucus' arms and he roughly pulled the young man to him, placing his head on Glaucus' heart.
"You would not lie to me. You would not tell such a vile lie to an old man."
"No, sir. I am the son of General Maximus."
Jonivus searched his face again. "What was your mother's name?" he asked desperately.
"Olivia. My brother, Marcus, was about five years old when you knew him here. He died when he was almost eight, along with my mother. They were murdered."
Jonivus glanced around his property although his eyes could detect nothing but indistinct shapes. He tugged at Glaucus' arms and whispered, "We must go inside where it's safe. Come with me." He pushed open a wooden door in a high stone wall and ushered Glaucus into a small flower garden alive with butterflies, bees, color and perfume. Although imposing from the outside, the house was surprisingly welcoming inside. Beyond the garden was a simple courtyard with a stone table and benches, and past that, the tiled atrium. A small kitchen was off to the right of the atrium and what appeared to be two bedrooms were to the
left. Everything was compact neat and orderly.
Jonivus was panting by the time they reached the courtyard from a mixture of exertion and excitement. He gestured to a bench but Glaucus helped him into his seat first, afraid that the old man might die in front of his eyes. Jonivus grasped his hands across the stone table. "You have his hands -- very large and well-shaped -- you have his voice, you have his face." He shook his head in wonder. "I never thought I would see it. I thought the family was lost when little Marcus was murdered." His tone
changed to murderous rage. "Commodus!" he spat. "That no good son of a whore. He killed your mother and brother."
"Yes, sir. I know that. But... I don't know what happened to my father. I have come here seeking information about him."
"How old are you, son?"
"Twenty, sir. I'll be twenty-one next month."
"Twenty. I knew your father when he was twenty." Jonivus sat back and stared at the sky, his milky eyes seeing nothing but light. Glaucus realized that the man's thoughts had drifted back to his father's youth and was more than content to listen to whatever he had to say. "Your father was a boy when I first saw him. A smart boy... strong, skilled, good-looking. He had a temper, though -- something he managed to control as he got older. Everyone knew he was destined for greatness. Marcus
Aurelius saw it. We all did. No one was happier than I to see him rise through the ranks so fast. Some of us thought he was destined for even greater things than general.
Glaucus was puzzled. "What do you mean, sir?"
Jonivus just shook his head sadly. "It was not to be. Commodus destroyed him. Commodus destroyed everything he touched."
Jonivus suddenly pounded the table in fury then his emotions did a lightening-fast turn and he chortled with glee. "He thought he
destroyed all of Maximus' family but he missed you, didn't he?" He leaned towards Glaucus and hissed, "Now you will avenge
your father's death. You will restore his good name."
"I intend to, sir... but I need to know what happened to him, first."
"How old were you when he died?"
"I don't know when he died, or where he died... or even if he's dead. I was two when my mother and brother were murdered."
"Maximus never mentioned a second son. He was so proud of his family, I'm sure he would have. You're sure you're not a bastard?"
Glaucus couldn't help but laugh. "No, I was born of wedded parents. My mother was my father's wife, Olivia. My father didn't know about me because my mother chose to keep the information from him. I was born in July of 177... about seven months after my father had returned to Germania."
"Ah... that's why you are alive, then. If Maximus had known about you then you'd be dead too."
"Sometimes I'm not sure that I wouldn't have preferred it that way. To be with them... a whole family... even in death."
Jonivus clutched Glaucus' and squeezed hard. "This happened for a reason, son. You were spared for a reason."
"Sir, does anyone know what happened to him?"
"Alas, no." Jonivus could sense the young man's disappointment and smiled understandingly. "All we know for sure is that he
somehow overpowered and killed three armed praetorians despite the fact that he was unarmed and bound. That's our Maximus!" Jonivus chortled again but quickly sobered. "After that, we don't know."
Glaucus said nothing.
Jonivus patted his hand. "You were looking for answers here."
The young man nodded then said, "Yes," when he realized that the old man might not see his physical response.
"Well, I have looked for answers for the past eighteen years and now the gods have sent you to provide them."
"I have no answers," said Glaucus' glumly. "I have nothing but questions."
"You have your father's mind and instincts and strengths. You will find those answers which you seek. You must be patient."
"Do you have any idea at all where he might have gone if he escaped death here?"
"We heard only wild rumors. Your father was supposedly spotted everywhere from Britannia to Egyptus after he disappeared.
We heard that he was captured by the Germanians and enslaved. We heard that he had gone to Britannia and was king of a small kingdom there. We heard that he was in Gaul, married again with another family. We heard that he was in Egyptus, selling camels; that he was in Rome enslaved as a gladiator; that he was in Africa..." Jonivus threw up his hands. "Nothing but nonsense. And there were many more rumors, all more ridiculous than those."
"I don't know where to start," Glaucus said quietly.
"You have come to the right place to start. The place where your father was loved and respected more than any man I have ever known. His memory still is."
Glaucus bit the inside of his lower lip and gazed into the garden. "I heard that people here think he was a traitor."
"Bah, only fools think that. Fools who didn't know your father like I did. Have you been to the fortress yet?"
"No, sir. I just arrived today. I heard about you from the prefect in town."
"Then we must get you in there. You will stay here tonight and I will take you tomorrow. I must show you the house I built for him. It is still standing."
"Will they let us in, sir?"
"The army is not there. I know that because my house is so close that I can hear them when they are in camp. There will be guards, of course, but these days guards are easily coaxed ...or bribed. That was not the case in your father's day."
"My Uncle Persius--"
"I remember Persius. Nice young man."
"Yes. He told me that my mother painted murals on the walls of the house you built for my father. I want to see them very badly. I... want to see what my father looked like."
Jonivus grinned, his teeth surprisingly white and strong. "Then just look in a mirror, boy. Even with my poor eyesight I can see the resemblance. If you cut your hair short like your papa's you'd scare a few people. They'd think you were your father's ghost."
"Sir--"
"Call me Jonivus like your papa did."
Glaucus nodded. "Jonivus...," he hesitated, afraid to hear the answer to his question, "do you think he's dead?"
Instead of replying, Jonivus rose and disappeared into the little kitchen. He was soon back with wine and two colorful glasses.
"What do you want to hear?"
"The truth."
The old man poured the wine, spilling only a little on the stone table. "No... you want me to tell you that I believe he is alive after all these years, don't you?"
Glaucus looked into the garden again. "I suppose."
"I wish I could say that."
Glaucus sighed and raised the glass to his lips. His stomach was churning and he wasn't sure if the wine would hurt or help. The
two men sat a few moments in silence then Glaucus said, "Your garden is lovely, Jonivus."
"It means a great deal to me, that garden. It is the spot where my son fell and died when the barbarians attacked Vindobona years ago." He spoke without emotion as if time had dulled the pain. Glaucus wondered if time would ever dull his pain.
"I'm sorry, Jonivus."
"Don't be. He died for the best reason possible. He died to save the life of a man he loved very much."
Glaucus just nodded, not getting the connection and Jonivus didn't intend him to. The old man shivered slightly as the early evening sun dropped behind the tips of the tall trees. Glaucus quickly unbuckled his cape and draped it over the stooped shoulders, the precious fibula still attached. "Thank you, Maximus," he said.
Startled, Glaucus just stood by his side, uncertain whether the old man's thoughts had drifted back in time again. Jonivus sensed
his confusion and looked up at him. "Well, it's your name, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. But I have never used it. It belongs to my father, not me."
"It belongs to you too."
"I was never called that. I was always called Glaucus. My adoptive parents were afraid for my safety and wanted to conceal my true identity."
"That was wise. All right, I will call you Glaucus, but you must be prepared to proudly use your father's name... and yours... when your searching is done."
"I'm not sure that I am worthy of that name."
"You are and someday you will know it." Jonivus smiled kindly. "You will stay here while you are in Vindobona, of course. I so rarely get visitors and to have the son of Maximus in my humble home... well, it is a great honor."
"Thank you, Jonivus. Is there a place where I can stable my horse? He's very valuable and attracts a lot of attention. I have a dog too."
"Of course. There is a small shed at the back of the property and I'm sure your horse will be comfortable there. As for the dog... bring him in. I looked after your father's dog, you know, after he disappeared. His name was--"
"Hercules."
"Yes... a big gray wolf. Your father's servant, Cicero, kept Hercules but then Cicero never returned from a journey to Rome when we were stationed in Ostia a few months after your father disappeared, so I took the dog and brought him back here with me. He was good company. I buried him in the garden."
"My dog is from the same bloodlines, sir, and my horse's grandfather sired my father's two horses," he said proudly.
Jonivus rose and patted Glaucus' shoulder. "Good bloodlines always show, my boy. Are you as obsessive about your horse as your father was? Did you know about the time he risked his life to save one of them and had to be rescued by the entire legion?
The emperor himself led that operation. Marcus Aurelius wouldn't risk leaving it to anyone else. Maximus got quite a dressing
down because of it... and he deserved it!" Jonivus laughed. "Ah, there is so much to tell you...."
"I want to hear it all."
"I'm sure you do. I've got years' worth of stories about your father. Go put your horse away and bring your dog inside and we'll pass the evening chatting after I get us some food."
Glaucus was in the garden before Jonivus had finished his sentence. "I'll be right back," he called as he disappeared through the door. "Don't start without me," he shouted over the wall as he picked up his knees and ran towards his animals, Zeus wagging his tail ready to greet his master with a sloppy tongue.
Chapter 9 - The Fortress
Glaucus and Jonivus approached the fortress on foot and the young man gazed in awe at the structure that had been his father's home and headquarters in Germania. Oak doors that looked as thick as a tree discouraged visitors, as did the armed soldiers in the stone towers that soared high overhead.
Massive stone walls stretched in both directions with more towers at each corner. The place was huge and thoroughly intimidating. He barely even noticed the deep ditches with sharpened stakes and the tangled thorn hedges at the bottom of the walls.
"Did it look like this in my father's day?" Glaucus whispered.
Jonivus laughed. "Yes, on the outside, it hasn't changed at all since Maximus was here."
Glaucus found his voice. "You're responsible for this, aren't you?"
"I am indeed," the old man said proudly. "And there's much that you haven't even noticed yet. Hidden defenses that discourage all but the bravest... or most foolhardy... attackers." Jonivus looked up at the towers. "How many soldiers are there?"
"Um... I can see about twenty, I think."
"I hope I know at least one of them," said Jonivus as he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I am Jonivus the engineer who built this place and served under General Maximus! I have business here!
Glaucus saw the soldiers look at each other then one moved to the front and peered down. He nodded to his fellow guards then shouted, "Who is the man with you, Jonivus?"
"The son of a friend. His name is Glaucus and I wish to show him my handiwork!"
After a bit more consultation the massive gates creaked slowly open and the camp's interior was revealed to Glaucus little by little. The first thing he noticed were the low, rectangular stone barracks situated well back from the wall. They seemed to stretch forever in both directions. Glaucus stepped forward to get a better view and was abruptly stopped by a hand on his chest. He looked straight into the eyes of a helmeted soldier, a sword swinging at his hip.
"Don't take one more step," the guard growled.
"No sir," Glaucus replied with what he hoped was a mixture of deference and courtesy.
"Who are you?"
"I... my name is Glaucus and I am from Spain. Jonivus is an old friend of the family and I am visiting for the first time."
The guard slowly looked him over from head to toe, a slightly puzzled frown on his face. He continued to study Glaucus as he addressed Jonivus. "What is it you want to show him old man?"
"The camp, if you please, sir."
"There's no one here right now, as you can see. You can show him everything but the praetorium and the principia. They're off limits to you."
"Ah... I was hoping to show the boy the house I built for the general Maximus. It's quite unique for a Roman camp and I'm very proud of it."
"General Vesnius isn't here but he's expected back soon."
"All the better then, because we won't disturb him."
"The praetorium is off limits to civilians, Jonivus, and you should know that."
"I'm not exactly a civilian, sir. I'm a retired soldier, as you well know."
"Your young friend isn't." The guard eyed the black tunic. "You either agree to those conditions or you leave."
Glaucus tugged on the older man's arm as he seemed about to argue with the guard. "That's fine, sir. I appreciate your allowing me to see the camp.
Come along, Jonivus."
"You've got one hour," said the guard as he turned his back, obviously convinced of their harmlessness.
They started down the perimeter road and Jonivus hissed, "I thought you wanted to see the painting of your father."
"I do," Glaucus whispered.
"Well then, you should have let me negotiate with him."
"He was about to throw us out. Let me see as much as I can then we'll try again." Glaucus looked around and shook his head in wonder. "I can't believe I am here. This is my father's camp. It doesn't matter where you look, everything in here looks exactly the same; straight streets and stone buildings everywhere. It's laid out on a grid just like the towns."
"Camps are designed for efficiency, not beauty. Come. We'll walk around the outside then we'll try to get close to the praetorium. I still know some men here. We'll see who's guarding the praetorium gate."
"Were some of them soldiers under my father's command?"
"A few, but they may not be here today."
"That's may be a good thing."
"Not if you want to get inside the praetorium." As they walked, Jonivus pointed out the stone stables, the workshop, the bathhouse and the prison but Glaucus' eyes were constantly pulled to the slightly raised walled area in the center of the camp, and the tiled roof of the stone house that had been his father's. He listened as Jonivus told him that the barracks had been built since his father's time when troops lived in tents because they were constantly on the move, and the young man slightly resented that any changes had been made to his father's camp at all, despite understanding how ridiculous that was. Maximus had been gone for eighteen years and life had moved on without him.
"You're not paying attention," Jonivus admonished.
"I'm sorry. I'm just too... I don't know... excited. Nervous. I've waited so long for this and I can't believe I am actually here." He looked over at the praetorium again. "Who lived inside there with my father?"
"His servant, Cicero, lived there with him and anyone of very high legionary command who your father would need to consult regularly." Jonivus hesitated,
then added, "Quintus lived there... your father's legate."
Glaucus stopped, a puzzled frown on his young face. "Quintus... I've heard that name before. I can't remember..."
Jonivus grabbed his arm to keep him moving. "We'll discuss Quintus tonight at my home, not here. Come along." The two men turned onto the via principalis which would take them right past the praetorium and the principia which was the legionary headquarters which contained the legions' standards as well as the commander's official office. "Walk slowly," commanded Jonivus quietly, "and we'll see if we catch the eye of any old friends."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth when he was hailed by a praetorium guard. "Jonivus, old man. What brings you here?"
"Abito, is that you? My eyesight isn't so good anymore."
"It is indeed."
A broad grin split Jonivus' lined face. "I'm just showing my young friend from Spain my fortress. Abito, I'd like you to meet Glaucus. Maximus...Decimus... Glaucus," he said, enunciating every word separately and deliberately.
Glaucus glanced at the old man in alarm but Jonivus' face was calm and assured. He looked back at the guard who had stepped from his post in astonishment. Glaucus stood his ground as the armed man walked right up to him and grabbed his bearded chin. The soldier's eyes bulged and his mouth soundlessly open and closed like a newly-landed fish. He finally found his voice. "His son lives?" he asked in wonderment. At Glaucus' nod the man whooped in joy attracting the attention of his fellow guards, then he grasped Glaucus' shoulders and shook him as he laughed in total triumph. "My boy," he said, "your father was the finest man I ever knew."
"Thank you, sir," said Glaucus as he gulped back the lump that threatened to form again in his throat.
Abito looked around, conspiratorially, then pulled Glaucus towards the praetorium. "Come inside, come inside."
"Ah... the guards at the gate--" started Glaucus.
"We'd be delighted," interrupted Jonivus as he placed his hand in Glaucus' lower back and gave him a slight shove. "You're senior guard now, aren't you, Abito. Lots of seniority?"
"You bet. Don't worry about a thing. You want to see where your father lived, Glaucus?"
"Yes, sir. Very much."
"I'll give you a tour," said Abito and he mouthed "Maximus' boy" to the other guards as he ushered Glaucus through the praetorium gate.
Glaucus' stomach was churning. The moment had had been awaiting for five years was finally here. His eyes were riveted to the oak front door of the stone house despite Abito's prattle about the history of the Roman praetorium. Abito finally pushed open the door and ushered Glaucus into the atrium of the home. He stepped onto the tesselated concrete that his father's feet had touched innumerable times. He drew a deep breath then let it our very slowly as he turned to Jonivus with a grin.
"Happy?" the old man asked unnecessarily.
Glaucus could only nod then listened politely as Jonivus described the attributes of the home he had built. It was based on the Roman plan, he said, which was obvious to Glaucus but he nodded with interest. It was built of local limestone and craftsmen in Vindobona had supplied all of the metalwork. The red roof tiles had been imported from Gaul, though, as nothing like them were available in this area.
As he walked forward towards the small courtyard, Jonivus told him about the time when the atrium had been used as a hospital to house the injured from the Vindobona raid. Glaucus didn't have to be told that it was during this raid that his father had been almost fatally injured and Jonivus' son had died. Later, his brother had taken ill and been treated here. He looked at the empty atrium and tried to imagine it filled with beds and patients and doctors. He tried to imagine the noises and the smells that had once filled this peaceful place.
The courtyard contained two benches and a stone table arranged by a small pool which collected rainwater. It was ringed by a colonnade supported by stone columns and Glaucus could imagine his brother playing there as his parents relaxed on the benches.
"...all heated underneath," Glaucus heard Jonivus say and he mentally shook himself so he could concentrate on the man's words. "It was rather unusual in these parts at the time but more common these days. I built many of those stone public buildings in Vindobona so I should know."
Jonivus finally stopped before a solid, carved oak door and Glaucus knew that this was his father's bedroom -- and that his portrait was just beyond the door. Jonivus whispered in his ear, "Look directly to your right as you enter," and pushed open the door for the young man to proceeded him. He promptly collided with Glaucus who stopped dead no more than one step into the bedroom.
The young man was silent -- totally overwhelmed, thought Jonivus.
"It's not there," said Glaucus, his voice dead. "Neither is the other one.
They've been painted over."
"What!" shrieked Jonivus as he pushed past him into the room. He squinted at the wall but could see nothing but whiteness around the tapestry that hung there. Enraged, Jonivus swirled around and confronted Abito. "Who would do such a thing?"
"I didn¹t know that's what you were looking for," said the guard defensively. "I could have warned you. The paintings have been gone for years. Emperor Septimius Severus had them painted over when he was general here years ago, before he marched on Rome. Lots of generals have lived here since Maximus."
Glaucus was numb. He finally tore his eyes away from the blank wall and looked at the furniture in the room. It was extremely ornate with guilt covering every surface. He could never imagine his father liking such things. His suspicions were confirmed when Abito said, "Nothing in here belonged to your father. Septimius had all of his furniture burned."
Fury surged through Glaucus' limbs. "Well, we can't expect a general to live with the face of a traitor staring at him, can we?" he spat bitterly. "We can't expect him to touch a traitor's things!"
"Nobody believes--" started Abito.
"Oh yes they do. Many do," growled Glaucus as he slowly headed towards the wall where the memory of his mother and father had been totally decimated with just a few strokes of a brush. "Jonivus, did my mother paint on top of dry plaster or into wet plaster?"
Jonivus understood what he was thinking. "Into wet plaster. We placed another layer on the walls so she could paint frescoes."
Glaucus was already on his knees scratching at the white paint with his fingernail. After some coaxing, the paint flaked off to reveal color underneath. Glaucus stood and stared at the wall as he spoke to the two men behind him. "He's still there. He's just obscured... hidden... but he's still there. With time and patience he could be revealed again." Suddenly Glaucus laughed as he realized that the wall was a fitting metaphor for his search for his father. "How tall was the mural, Jonivus? Where would his face have been?"
"It was life-size and he was sitting on his stallion in the central portion of the wall."
Glaucus lifted the tapestry and peered behind it.
"Now wait a minute," cautioned Abito. "I can't let you start picking at that wall. This room belongs to the general Vesnius now. I let you in here to look but you can't touch anything."
Glaucus let the tapestry drop and it fell softly into place against the painted plaster. "I appreciate your allowing me to see the house, sir. Very much. I won't disturb anything further. All that's really left of my father here is the shell of the house. I see nothing else that makes me think of him."
Jonivus looked devastated and Glaucus patted his shoulder kindly. "No man can hold back time, Jonivus. My father is long gone from this place."
"I built it for him..." Jonivus' voice trailed off.
"I know. Let's go." Glaucus took Jonivus' arm and guided him out even though
the old man knew the way better than he did.
Once outside the door Glaucus breathed fresh air deep into his lungs to quell the nausea in his stomach. He exited the praetorium, ignoring the guards who had gathered there to stare at him. He also ignored the guards at the gate who whispered to each other as he approached. He ignored the stable hands, blacksmiths and leatherworkers who stared at him in astonishment and awe.
He was far down the road to Jonivus' house before he shattered and wept with anguish.
Later that night the two men sat in Jonivus' courtyard drinking barely diluted wine until they were both somewhat drunk. Zeus stretched out on the gravel, ignoring them as best he could.
"Sorry I didn't know," Jonivus kept muttering. "Should have known."
"It's alright, Jonivus," Glaucus tried to reassure him. "It's alright.
Someday I'll get those murals back, even if I have to... join the army myself. I'll sneak in there at night when general Vesu... Vensiv...when the general is asleep and scrub that paint off myself." He sighed deeply.
"Jonivus, you mentioned a man named Quinnus today. You said you'd tell me 'bout him. What'd he have to do with my father? I 'member hearing his name before." To Glaucus' surprise, Jonivus spit on the ground.
"Quintus, bah! I hope that man died a horrible death. No... no... I hope he's rotting in prison somewhere wishing that he was dead!" Jonivus' milky eyes were bloodshot now, making them appear an odd pinkish color. "He was your father's legate. They knew each other since they were boys together in the army. Quintus was always jealous of your father 'cause he got to be general and Quintus never did. He was from some high-born Roman family and they expet... expected him to do better, you see?" Glaucus nodded and belched. "He'd do anything he had to to rise to a higher position, you see?
So, when your father defied Commodus, the brat ordered Quintus to arrest him... and he did. Commodus made Quintus prefect of his praetorian and they left for Rome in the middle of the night, before the soldiers knew what had happened to your father. The gutless bastard. He knew if he stayed that we'd ha' killed 'im." Jonivus pounded the table in a fury, almost toppling off his bench from the exertion.
"My father defied Commodus?" Jonivus nodded vigorously. "Why?"
"Cause he murdered the emperor and your father knew it. Maximus'd never support such a man. Your father shoulda been emperor, not him."
"Commodus murdered his father? You sure?" Jonivus nodded vigorously. "I
needta find Quinnus," said Glaucus with as much bravado as he could muster in his inebriated state. "He's in Rome?"
"Thas were he went with Commodus. Dunno where he is now."
"I'm gonna kill Quinnus. He deserves to die for betraying my father."
"Kill 'im for me too," mumbled Jonivus as his eyes closed and his head dropped.
"You're drunk!" chortled Glaucus.
"Am not," said Jonivus indignantly just before he slipped off his bench, his fall broken by Glaucus' surprisingly swift movement despite his equally questionable condition. He scooped the old man into his arms then wove his way to Jonivus' bedroom where he deposited the limp body on the straw mattress and pulled a blanket over him before he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor beside the bed, his fall broken by the woven rug. He immediately curled into a ball and before long, his snores joined Jonivus'.
Zeus eyed them both from the doorway then elected to sleep in the less crowded, and much less noisy, atrium.
Glaucus groaned then rolled over, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton and his head splitting with a pain that competed with the discomfort in his stiff back. Before he could lift his crusty lids a wet tongue bathed his face. He lifted an arm and draped it over the furry body that was sprawled beside him on the floor. He groaned again and got licked again. He slowly hauled himself to one elbow, his eyes just level with the bed where he could see Jonivus still in deep sleep. He collapsed back to the floor and groaned again. He hadn't been this drunk since his older brothers had made him drink that bottle of undiluted wine for his sixteenth birthday. That time he had spent the next day vomiting and hoped to avoid a repeat performance. He let his eyes drift closed again then leaped off the floor in shock when Zeus barked in his ear before scrambled towards the front door.
Glaucus forced himself to sit up. The barking continued. He struggled to his feet and lurched into the atrium where he pulled open the door, momentarily blinded by the morning sunlight. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and the figure of a young woman gradually emerged from the glare. She was gorgeous and he felt like a piece of shit. Self-consciously he smoothed his rumpled tunic and wiggled his toes, realizing that he had lost his sandals sometime during the night.
"So... it's true," came the musical voice.
"M'Lady?"
"General Maximus' son has come to Germania."
Glaucus unconsciously imitated Jonivus and squinted at the girl. She was no more than seventeen or eighteen with long, auburn curls that cascaded down her back from an ornate clip at her nape. Her skin was flawless cream and her mouth a pouty pink.
"You're the talk of the town... Glaucus, isn't it?"
"Yes, m'Lady. And you are...?"
"Katerina."
He waited for her to complete the name but she didn't.
"Katerina. What can I do for you, Katerina?"
"You look like you had a rough night," she grinned at him as she reached down to pet Zeus who was sniffing at her skirt. "You don't look quite the way you were described... but I'm sure you would after a bath and a change of clothes." She stooped to pick up a wooden hamper and plunked it into his arms. "Jonivus' laundry. Maybe you can find something in there to wear."
"Ah... I'd ask you in m'Lady but Jonivus is still asleep and may be for some time."
"I didn't come to see Jonivus. How long are you going to be in Vindobona?"
"A few more days, maybe."
"Well then, why don't you pay me a visit? I'm sure we can find lots to talk about."
Glaucus had had plenty of experience with forward woman, but few had been as beautiful as this one. He ran his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to push the heavy wave off his forehead. He saw Katerina's eyes watch it flop back down again and saw her grin. She leaned forward and whispered, "I hope not all parts of your body behave the way your hair does."
Had he heard her right? "M'Lady?"
"Why don¹t you come by, Glaucus? Tonight would be good for me. I can cook you supper." She gave him one final appraisal before she turned away while adding, "My father was a soldier under the command of your father."
That got his attention as she knew it would. "What time, m'Lady?"
"Anytime you like," she tossed over her shoulder, her hips swaying provocatively. "I'll be there all day."
"Where?"
"Last house on the right just before you get to town."
Chapter 10 - Katerina
The sun was just dropping behind the trees at the back of Katerina's house when Glaucus knocked at the door. She opened it promptly, as if she had been waiting for him, and he bowed slightly and handed her the flowers that he had recently picked from Jonivus' garden. He hoped that the old man wouldn't mind. He had still been snoring when Glaucus left so he had quickly penned a note explaining his absence and ordered Zeus to stay behind.
She buried her nose in the roses and lilies while she assessed the changes in the man since that morning. He had clearly bathed and his hair was brushed back in luxurious waves that were still slightly damp. One stubborn lock pulled free, though, and fell over his forehead in a flipping curl. His light brown beard was neatly trimmed and he wore a black cloak tossed over a short tunic of the same color, with a jeweled fibula at his left shoulder.
His strong, tan legs were visible from the top of his boots to the bottom of his tunic which ended well above his shapely knees. She tossed back her loose curls and smiled her approval. The description circulating town hadn't been accurate. He wasn't attractive... he was gorgeous.
Glaucus glanced around the house as he followed her inside. It was of the wattle and daub construction that he had noticed earlier and he half expected to find branches encased in clay on the inside too. The walls were smooth plaster, though, and painted a dull red. The house rambled and had obviously been expanded over the years. The room he was standing in was open with a low ceiling and had obviously been the original house. A more spacious room stood beyond from which delicious smells drifted to his nostrils. He hadn't eaten all day and he pressed his stomach as it rumbled loudly.
Katerina laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. I consider that a compliment. Have you ever been in a house like this before, Glaucus?" she asked as she led him to the kitchen.
"No, m'Lady. I have only seen them from the road."
Katerina deposited the flowers in a ceramic container with blue stripes and arranged them carefully according to color and height. "Please... call me Katerina. There is no need for formality here." She smiled at him, a beautiful glowing smile that made him respond in kind. "The house is quite old. My father bought it when he married my mother then added more rooms. He was a soldier in the Roman army, originally from Italia, and my mother was Germani. The house was originally one large room which people shared with their animals." Katerina laughed at Glaucus' look of dismay. "Yes... I can't
imagine it either, but many farmers in the countryside still live that way."
"Where's your family?"
"There's only me now." At Glaucus' look of surprise she explained, "I was married when I was fourteen to another soldier who was much older than me.
He died in a riding accident... my father had died years before, a few years after yours disappeared. So, my mother and I were both on our own and I moved back here to take care of her. She passed away just last year so I'm alone now. I take in laundry and do sewing to make a living."
"You must be lonely here on your own."
"Sometimes I miss having someone close... but most often I enjoy the freedom to make my own choices. Few women my age have that opportunity."
"Not many women your age are widowed."
"No... and widowhood brings great freedom along with its problems. I have the freedom to go anywhere I want and live anywhere I want. Someday I plan to go to Rome. Have you ever been there?"
"No m'La... Katerina. This is really my first venture away from Spain."
"Your family owns a horse farm."
Glaucus' eyebrows shot up. "Yes. How did you know that?"
You must be joking," Katerina laughed. "The entire town is talking about the son of the great General Maximus. Rumor was that the general's entire family had been destroyed so you are quite a surprise indeed. Anyone who has talked to you is trading stories and plenty more are being invented by people who claim to have talked to you."
Glaucus was suddenly cautious. "Is that why you asked me here tonight? To confirm the stories?"
Katerina placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head as she smiled at him. "My, aren't you cynical. No... I simply thought that you could use some good cooking for a change as I don't suppose that is one of old Jonivus'
talents. And... I wanted to meet you. When I was a little girl my father used to talk about your father all the time."
Glaucus folded his arms. "Really? And was he for or against?"
"Pardon?"
"I find that people here are of one of two minds. Either they believe my father was a great man wronged, or a traitor who got what he deserved."
"I believe what my father said about him. He loved your father and said he was a brave, honest and fair man. The legion was devastated after his death.
Morale was so low that they were moved out of Germania completely. My father chose to retire rather than go with them. We then heard that the legion had been dissolved completely so my father had made a wise choice. Would you care for some wine, Glaucus?"
"Yes, thank you."
Katerina grinned wickedly as she poured the red liquid into two colorful glass vessels. "I'll just have to watch that you don't consume as much as you did last night."
"Jonivus and I had a rather unsatisfactory day at the fortress. I suppose it was our way of drowning our disappointment."
"Many generals have served there since your farther. Sit down, Glaucus."
He pulled out a chair for her then took one himself at a wooden table in the kitchen where she could keep her eye on the bubbling food. "I know. I was just childishly hoping that nothing would have changed."
Katerina regarded him intently. "You were looking for the mural, weren't you?"
Glaucus was astounded. "You know about that?"
"Yes, I saw it once. There was great turmoil here for a while as the leadership in Rome changed hands so often after Commodus' death. We would never had known anything about that except that the generals changed every time the emperor did. There were a few times when nobody was in charge and my father took me in once to show me what a Roman stone house looked like."
She smiled. "I remember that the mural frightened me at first. It was so big and... powerful." She shivered. "It looked like your father was going to ride right off the wall."
Glaucus thoughtfully watched the red liquid swirl in his glass. "I came here hoping to see it but it's been painted over. People tell me that I look like my father but I've never seen his likeness."
"Judging by the reaction from people in town you certainly must look like him." Katerina reached out and patted Glaucus' hand then made no move to pull hers away. After a few moments he flipped his hand over so that her palm rested in his and he closed his fingers over hers. "Are you married?"
she asked with deceptive casualness.
Glaucus shook his head. "No."
"Isn't it unusual for a man of your station not to be married at your age?"
"Not really. I've just had too much on my mind since the age of fifteen to even think about taking a wife."
"What happened when you were fifteen?"
"That's when I first learned who my true family was... and what happened to my mother and brother. I still don't know what my father's fate was." He caressed her fingers, soft and supple despite her job.
"It's hard not knowing," she whispered.
"It's probably harder than knowing the truth even if the truth is terrible."
He stroked her fingers again. "Aren't you worried about being here alone with me?"
"Should I be?"
He knew what she meant but he chose to interpret it differently. "People gossip. Aren't you worried about what they will say? Even if all we do is sit here and talk and eat, people will tell stories that could harm your reputation. Women aren¹t supposed to be alone with--"
"Glaucus, I'm a widow not a maiden. Once the maidenhead is gone a woman is no longer valued as a wife even if she is young and... reasonably pretty."
"Beautiful. You're beautiful."
Katerina tried to dismiss his compliment with a laugh but a pink glow crept up her neck. She pulled hand and away and rose to stir the stew.
"You don't have any children?" Glaucus asked her back then regretted his question as he saw her stiffen.
"I gave birth to a girl-child who was born dead. I was just fifteen."
"I'm sorry," Glaucus whispered, sincerely regretful that he had raised the topic.
"That's all right. It shouldn't bother me still... but it does. I'm too sensitive...." She kept stirring the stew even though it was no longer necessary. "There aren't many men in this town like you. Most are soldiers or farmers or merchants who travel all the time."
Glaucus laughed. "I hate to disillusion you but I am a farmer. So was my father before me when he wasn't commanding the northern legions of Marcus Aurelius' army. My mother was a farmer's wife."
Katerina moved back to the table and propped her hip against it. "You're different, though."
Glaucus stood up and stepped to her side taking her hand in his again. She didn't pull away. "How am I different?" he whispered into her hair.
She leaned into his lips. "You're educated -- more sophisticated somehow.
Maybe it's because of where you grew up. It must be quite different from here." She dislodged her hand and wrapped her arms around his back under his cloak which he had forgotten to remove. Her fingers fondled the fine, soft wool of his tunic, then the warm, firm muscles underneath. "You're a man with a mission... a man who knows what he wants and how to get it."
"I wish that last part were true," whispered Glaucus against her mouth before he gently took her upper lip between both of his, then her lower lip, before she parted them for a full kiss. One of his hands supported the back of her head while the other pressed her waist to his body. She melted against him then didn't resist as he hoisted her to sit on the sturdy wooden table, lifting her skirt just far enough to part her legs and position them on either side of his. The kiss deepened as she hungrily sucked his tongue into her mouth as his hands grasped her bottom, pressing her against him.
Instead of pulling away from his hips she wriggled against him so Glaucus eyed the table setting, trying to decide whether to stop their lovemaking long enough to carefully remove the ceramic dishes or to just sweep them to the floor and buy her a new set tomorrow. He had just decided on the latter when the fire hissed and spit, sparks flying as the stew bubbled over and splattered into the blaze beneath. In a flash, Katerina pulled up her legs, wiggled from his grasp, and stood on the table, carefully picking her way through her dishes before she jumped down and leaped towards the boiling pot. She grabbed a padded cloth then lifted the heavy pot onto the stone floor before more food could be lost.
Meanwhile, Glaucus grasped the corners of the table in a major effort to control his passion. He raised his eyes to find her looking at him with undisguised lust. "You have beautiful eyes," she whispered, and in an instant she was across the table and into his waiting arms.
He lifted her against his chest and muttered, "Where's your bedroom?" His feet followed her eyes and she kicked open the door which banged against the bedroom wall then bounced back against Glaucus' shoulder.
"Wait!" she said as she stilled in his arms and strained to hear. "What's that?"
"I didn't hear a thing," said Glaucus as he captured her mouth again. For a moment she returned the kiss with equal passion then pulled her mouth away so fast that his cheeks sunk inwards with the suction.
She started to struggle. "Put me down, Glaucus. Someone is at the door and they know I'm home."
He reluctantly dropped her feet and said, "Get rid of them. I'll wait for you on the bed."
She nodded then ran to the door, stopping only long enough to smooth her hair. When she pulled it open a large black dog bounded into the room followed by an old man whose bounding days were long past.
"Jonivus!" she said loudly, hoping that Glaucus could hear behind the closed bedroom door.
"I saw the laundry my dear and realized that I didn't pay you. I don't like to be beholden to anyone." Jonivus tried to look past her even though his eyes could see very little. "I saw Glaucus' note. Did he come here for dinner?"
"Yes, yes he did! Glaucus came here for dinner, Jonivus!" Katerina spoke to Jonivus but her head was turned to face the bedroom.
"No need to shout my girl. I'm not that deaf." He sniffed the air. "Mmm...something smells very good."
"It's stew. I just made stew." She waited for Jonivus to take his leave but he simply stood there with an expectant smile on his face. "Wou... would you care to join us, Jonivus?"
"I'd love to, my dear. Thank you so much for the invitation." He moved past her with surprising swiftness and headed towards the kitchen where he just about collided with Glaucus who was exiting the bedroom and struggling to hold down a very pleased Zeus.
"Jonivus... I... I was just putting my cloak on the bed." Well, that was true. He no longer wore his cloak and he had managed to pull his tunic back on. "What brings you here?"
"I've been invited for dinner," said Jonivus cheerfully as he reached out to straighten the young man's tunic at the neck. Sometimes, Glaucus was convinced that the old man could see much more than he let on. As Jonivus moved past to take a seat at the table, Katerina shrugged helplessly at Glaucus.
Throughout dinner Katerina made small talk with Jonivus while Glaucus only contributed to the conversation when asked a direct question. He was very unhappy with Jonivus and he wanted the old man to know it by snubbing him.
As the evening wore on Glaucus tried to hint more than once that it was past the elder man's bedtime but Jonivus ignored the suggestion saying that he had slept all day and felt quite refreshed. And... he'd like more wine, if you please.
Finally, Katerina left to refresh herself and Jonivus fumbled inside his cape for a small rolled-up package which he plunked on the table before Glaucus. "Here," he hissed. "If you insist on bedding the woman then at least use this. Your father was careful not to leave any bastards and I expect you to do the same."
Glaucus was dumbfounded and groped for words. "Don't worry... Katerina probably uses a sponge."
"Don't take any chances."
Glaucus unrolled the little packet, his amazement transformed to mirth because he knew full well what it was. He burst into gales of laughter when he revealed the bedraggled state of the fish-skin sheath.
"What are you laughing about?" hissed Jonivus. "Use it!"
Glaucus was still laughing. "I've got my own, Jonivus, and they're much newer than this one." He held the oblong, translucent sheath up to the lamplight and pretended to examine it. "I think I see a few holes in it. How old is this? It looks like one my father might have used."
"Your father didn't need them," said Jonivus indignantly.
"Oh really?" chuckled Glaucus. "He preferred to live dangerously?"
"No, your father was completely faithful to your mother."
It took a moment for the implication of that statement to dawn on Glaucus.
"You mean... you mean, he went years without a woman?"
"Yes," said Jonivus, quite prickled at Glaucus' disbelief.
"Wha...," Glaucus was totally flabbergasted, "what was wrong with him?" The young man's half-aroused twenty-year-old body and mind couldn't comprehend such a thing.
"Nothing was wrong with him. He was a perfectly normal man in every way--"
"Jonivus," Glaucus interrupted. "That's not normal. You probably just didn't know what he was up to. More than likely he had a gorgeous woman stashed away at every camp along the Danube. No wonder he traveled so much," Glaucus guffawed."
Jonivus' face was as stony as his voice. "You insult both your father and your mother. Many women wanted your father... you have no idea. Important and regal women, not little laundresses. Your father was an honest and truthful man. When he married your mother he took a vow to be faithful to her and he was. It was quite different when he was your age and unmarried. I
hope that when you find a woman someday that you want to marry you will be as devoted to her as your father was to your mother."
Glaucus sat with his elbows on the table and his fingers laced under his nose, thoroughly chastened. "I'm sorry, Jonivus," he said from behind his hands. "I am glad that he was faithful to my mother. That is just another of the many ways that I will never be able to measure up to him." Glaucus looked at the table. "He was perfect."
"You will be able to do the same when you find the right woman."
"For years? I don't think so." He sighed and dropped his hands to pick up a spoon and turn it over and over, studying his distorted reflection.
"Jonivus, who were the woman you mentioned -- the important and regal women -- who wanted my father?"
"She loved your father."
"She? Who was she?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow." Jonivus rose. "Right now, I am very tired and want to go home."
"I'll walk you home," offered Glaucus.
"No need. You can stay here."
Glaucus rose and took the older man's arm. "Oh, I intend to come back, Jonivus. I just don't like the thought of you tripping over a stone and lying in the road all night with a broken hip." He winked at Katerina as he passed her bedroom door which she had opened slightly, and wondered how much the "little laundress" had heard. He stopped momentarily to caress her smooth cheek and she kissed his fingers, indicating that he was welcome back despite what she may have overheard.
