Glaucus' Story
Chapter 16 - The Omens
Severus' hands were shaking by the time he had completed the horoscope. Rising unsteadily from his throne, he reeled backwards, stumbling, knocking into the marble bust and sending it shattering to the floor before he managed to steady himself by grabbing the base. He bitterly kicked at the pieces, yelping when his swollen toes connected with one causing a guard to come running into the room.
"Sire? Are you alright, Sire?""Yes, yes! Get out of here!" The confused guard started to turn away. "Wait! Severus shouted. He calmed himself before speaking further. "You have a temple to Mithras?"
"Of course, Sire. It's in a nearby cave.""Prepare a bull for sacrifice."
"Yes, Sire," said the guard as he tore his eyes from the bust of the emperor that was now lying face down and broken on the floor. A bad omen for sure, he thought, as he quickly exited the room.Severus moaned, a low keening sound, and he didn't care who heard. Oh, this was terrible. With that horoscope things had gone from bad to worse. The emperor straightened slowly and took a few tentative steps, forcing his battered body to accept his weight. He schooled his face against the pain and slowly walked around the desk. He'd never let the soldiers see him limp -- never. By the time he got to the front of the desk he was steadier, his back straighter, but he almost doubled over in physical pain when he caught site of that star map again.
Glaucus was indeed sent from the gods to torment him.Leo. Maximus' boy was a Leo -- a Lion. The only constellation whose regent is a star and not a planet or a satellite -- a superior constellation in the zodiac. As a Leo Glaucus would be a natural leader, strong, proud and passionate. And he is aware of his powers, thought Severus, and strongly desires recognition for them. Well, Glaucus would get that, wouldn't he, when he persuaded the army to his side and wrested the throne from it's current occupant. Severus swallowed bitter gall. And he's ambitious -- a clear indication that he wants the throne because what higher ambition could a man have? A superior being; a great man -- it was all in the stars.
With Mercury and Jupiter in such favorable positions, Glaucus could succeed in anything he wanted to do. He's a man who can command, take charge. Oh, he's his father's son, thought Severus. Maximus had probably been a Leo too and born under equally favorable conditions. But... and here was the first potentially good omen... Mercury is linked to the concept of freedom and the loss of freedom would be hard for Glaucus to endure. Severus thought of the man sitting in a prison cell and smiled. He wondered, fleetingly, how long Glaucus would survive the hell of Rome's Tullian Prison where men were forced through a hole in the ground to share an underground chamber with hundreds of other disease-ridden men who soon died -- their bodies left to rot in the putrid cell.Severus forced his thoughts away from such gleeful distractions and back to the horoscope. Glaucus was also a man who would say what he thinks without couching words in diplomacy, and that could possibly work against him. Impetuousness could certainly be a handicap, unless people found it charming. Such directness would certainly not bode well in political circles where people spoke in obscurities, although the horoscope indicated that he could listen and understand other points of view.
But Mars... oh, Mars. The position of Mars shows him to be a man capable of succeeding in anything he wants to do. The throne will be his, groaned Severus. But, the position of the moon brings slight hope. Glaucus was too young and inexperienced when he started on his mission and his naivete could cost him. A slight hope, thought Severus again.He might have trouble finding an empress, though, Severus gloated. He likes to spread his seed and cannot go long without a woman -- many different women, because he resists ties. Any empress worthy of being an empress wouldn't care much for that.
But, his stars show him as a prosperous man, a man who will live the sophisticated life of a gentleman -- or an emperor, grumbled Severus.On the other hand, Uranus shows him going into exile -- or an extremely long journey lasting many years. Severus was not at all sure what that meant. Could Glaucus' present quest be that journey, or is there something in store for him later in life that would take him away from home for years? Emperors were in an exile of sorts, always traveling around the empire -- never in one place for long. Severus thought of his home in Africa and how long it had been since he had seen it.
The emperor stared at the map, his brow furrowed. Sometimes more could be revealed about a man by the position of the stars at the time of his conception. Severus sat down again and pulled the chart towards him, grabbing his instruments of mathematical calculation. A while later he put his head in his hands on the desk, too overcome to even moan. Nine months to the day before Glaucus was born the Sun, Moon and planets Jupiter, Mercury, Mars and Venus aligned themselves on an imaginary line which went through a constellation -- the constellation of Leo. That enormous concentration of power indicated that an extraordinary individual could be born nine months later... and that was Glaucus.Shortly after midnight a small torchlight procession wound its way through the hills to the cave dedicated to the worship of Mithras, the god of arms, soldiers and armies. Drugged against the pain, Severus made the journey in the darkness with only a few stumbles on the stone path which were hastily disguised by the praetorian surrounding him. Severus halted at the door to the cave and the procession halted behind him. Bull horns adorned the entrance -- seven of them, representing the seven grades of Mithraism, each of which was protected by one of the seven celestial bodies.
Seven.Severus had no intention of wasting any time on ceremony and he burst into the cave. It was empty except for torches and a stone altar where a wide-eyed young soldier held a struggling goose. "Where's the bull?" the emperor demanded.
The young soldier looked about ready to faint so Vesnius answered for him. "We were down to our last bull, Sire, and we sacrificed him last week. We haven't received any more yet.""Shoddy way to run a camp!" spat Severus. "The bird will have to do. Get out of my way," he said to the soldier but the terrified boy let go of the goose too soon and it immediately stretched it's huge wings and flapped them in the face of the startled emperor as it launched off the altar. It didn't get far before it crashed into a dark stone wall and it immediately switched direction, flapping and squawking as it became more and more terrified by its confinement, knocking over incense burners and narrowly missing torches.
"Get it!" screamed Severus.Hands grabbed at the big bird but came away with just feathers. No one dared to laugh.
Vesnius posted himself by the cave entrance figuring that sooner or later the bird would feel the cooler currents and head that way. He didn't have to wait long and as soon as the goose bumped against him, Vesnius wrapped his whole body around it, constraining the powerful wings. He ducked his head as the bird hissed at him and tried to snap at his face, but managed to deliver the goose back to the scowling emperor and held it until he was sure that Severus had a grip on it.His chest heaving, Severus grabbed the goose's neck with one hand and yanked up the hood of his elaborate cape with the other. Forgoing the formality of the prayer, he pulled a jeweled knife from his belt, and held it high, his shadow looming on the gray rock of the rounded cave wall then, immediately, he plunged it into the goose's neck, black blood spurting over his hands and face. He held the struggling bird until it struggled no more then buried the knife in its gullet and ripped downwards, spilling the warm guts over his hand.
General Vesnius watched curiously as the emperor threw down the dagger and plunged both hands into the bird's stomach cavity pulling the oozing organs onto the altar then throwing the carcass aside where it hit the wall and slid to the ground, leaving a trail of black blood on the rock."How do you expect me to see? Bring a torch over here!" Severus demanded and a soldier was quick to comply.
Plautianus sauntered to his cousin's side now that the bloodletting had been done and he was less apt to stain his uniform. "Well?" he asked as Severus held the entrails up to be examined."This is not good," the emperor muttered. "No, it's not good at all. Look at this Plautianus... the heart is larger than normal," he threw the steaming organ to the floor, "and there are cysts in the intestines."
"Minor," commented Plautianus casually."Not minor! A young bird like this should have been flawless inside just as it was on the outside. Bad omens, Plautianus. Bad omens." He glared at the praetorian commander. "Now do you want to tell me I can kill him without consequences?" Forgoing all further conventions of the faith, Severus stomped out, hastily followed by four praetorians.
Plautianus folded his hands behind his back and regarded the young soldier who had tried to dissolve into the shadows. "You!" he said."Yes, sir?" said the boy, stepping forward.
"Clean this up, then report to the prison. You'll spend a week there for mishandling that bird."The soldier's face fell. "Yes, sir."
With a swirl of his cape, the praetorian commander exited the cave leaving only Vesnius to comfort the unfortunate boy. By the time he arrived at the stone house in the praetorium, Severus was back on his throne with his feet once again propped on the stool."Why don't you go to bed," suggested Plautianus, not because he was the least concerned about his cousin's health, but because he wanted to go to bed. But the emperor didn¹t hear him, instead, Severus sat as if in a trance reciting the dreaded words that he knew by heart:
Rome will fall in the hands of a heartless Mad Dog
But this son is no son and his hands will be bloodied
The son who's no son but a heartless Mad Dog
But One will come out of the shadows of the past
The Chosen One who's the son that should have been
Scared of his enemies, hated by his own blood
For he'll know he's doomed and doomed he will be
Yet he will be betrayed, not once but many times
Doomed is the Chosen One but he will not be defeated
The son who's no son and the son that should have been
Gone will be the Mad Dog, also gone the Chosen One
The Chosen One will bring back the Wise Emperor's dream
Gone will be the Chosen One and darkness will come
Ten years and two of darkness, blood spilled and death.
Then will be the time for the Iron One to succeed
Even if his darkness is darkness of a new and different kind
Yet he's doomed like the others and his blood will dearly pay
Yet those dangers are no dangers, real danger is the Secret
For one will kill and betray and the other betray and lie
Even if betrayed and dead the Chosen One will not be defeated
And even if they'll try to have his name erased and forgotten
For he will leave an Heir to carry his blood and name and right
He'll have a mission and his mission will fulfill, a duty to his sire
Many will love the Heir and also many will fear and hate him
And the blood of those who dare spill his will be accursed.
Chapter 17 - The Villa, continued (A.D. 180)
The atrium was almost totally dark now. No slaves had come to light torches. Only the dim light of the moon shining into the courtyard and through the aperture in the dome illuminated the room at all, casting even deeper blue shadows in the recesses of the atrium. Maximus sat on the floor, his arms extended over his head now, his head slumped to his shoulder. With droopy lids he stared into the gloom, seeing nothing, his mind mercifully numbed from lack of sleep, food and water. In this somnambulistic state his eyes started to play tricks. A ghostly white marble statue appeared to move slightly. Then it detached itself from its alcove and drifted towards him. He watched it come with no response. He was past reacting to anything. "Maximus," the statue whispered. "Maximus." It crouched before him and a white hand reached for his face. The hand was warm on his cheek, warm and tender, not cold like marble. He forced his eyes to focus and found himself looking into the face of a woman.
She stroked his face gently murmuring his name over and over.
"Maximus, do you remember me?"
Remember? He squinted and blinked. He was supposed to know this woman with the elaborately plaited hairstyle and the twinkling jewelry? He shook his head, his movement barely detectable. He licked his dry lips.
"I have water, Maximus. I'm going to hold a glass to your lips."
Despite her words, the liquid startled him and he choked slightly before sipping, then gulping the cool water, his thirst now overwhelming. She took the glass away.
"More."
"Soon. Soon you'll have wine and food and comfort. Oh, Maximus, how did you ever come to be in this situation?"
His brain was still not functioning properly. "Guards chained me here."
"I realize that, Maximus. I mean how did you come to be a slave? How did Marcus Aurelius' most important general wind up a gladiator?"
Her face was shadowed. "Who are you?" he asked.
The woman reached up and slowly unpinned her hair letting it fall in luxuriant waves about her shoulders. She leaned close to his hand so his fingers could grasp her tresses. She felt his hand tremble as he tentatively touched her hair, then he combed his fingers through the silken strands.
"Julia," he sighed. "Julia. I recognize your scent now -- your perfume."
"Yes." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead and cheeks and nose. "You are safe, Maximus. No one here will harm you."
"That man..."
"A friend of mine. I had you brought here, not him. I own this villa."
Maximus was still confused. "He's your husband?"
Julia smiled. "No, Maximus, he's just a friend. My husband is dead."
Maximus' arms dropped until they hung, suspended again, from his chains. He shook his head slowly trying to understand the situation. "I thought..."
Julia sat very close to him, her hands still stroking his face. "We had to do it this way, Maximus. The slave owner would have refused to negotiate with a woman."
Maximus drew a deep, shuddering sigh.
"Apollinarius took his performance a bit too far, I'm afraid. He is quite entranced by you but he overstepped his bounds. We didn't mean to frighten you."
Maximus moved his hand towards her hair again, his chains dragging across the marble but he couldn't reach it because she was sitting directly in front of him. "Julia... you look so pale."
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the deep rumble of his voice warm her like the sun-baked sand of the beach beyond the trees. "It's just the light, Maximus."
"You still have hair like... like a sunrise?" She moved so he could caress a strand again. "Soft, just like I remember. I never thought I'd see you again," he whispered.
Julia turned her head so she could kiss the palm of his outstretched hand.
When she spoke again there were tears in her voice. "Apollinarius has drugged the guards but those brutes took so long to fall asleep. I was afraid that they could come back at any time so I couldn't come sooner." She glanced at the courtyard. "Apollinarius will bring the key to these chains as soon as he can and we'll release you." She slid forward and draped her long legs over his bent knees, then cupped his face again. "Oh, Maximus, how did this happen to you?"
"It's a long story." He suddenly chuckled, a sound that contained no merriment. "Now you're free and I'm not."
A door opened and closed in the distance and Maximus looked over Julia's shoulder to see his tormentor, the gray-haired man she called Apollinarius, approaching carrying a lantern.
"I'm sorry it took so long," he called from the edge of the atrium. "I
thought those bastards were going to drink the entire wine cellar. They're certainly asleep now." He lit a few more torches around the atrium and the huge space soon glowed in a dim, golden light. He extended a hand to help Julia stand then addressed Maximus who still sat on the floor. "General Maximus, forgive our deception and any distress that I may have caused you.
It was necessary, I assure you. Now, let's get you unchained and to a more comfortable location. There's food and wine awaiting you then we are going to get you out of here," he said as he unlocked Maximus' chains and let them fall to the floor with a rattling clunk.
Maximus' legs had been tucked under him for so long that they had gone quite numb so both Julia and Apollinarius helped haul him to his feet. After a shaky few steps he found his footing and walked between the pair towards the spot where he had imagined the marble statue coming to life. Apollinarius pulled open the carved oak door, standing back to allow Julia and Maximus to enter the wide corridor that ended in gently curving marble stairs. At the top of the stairs was another door and beyond that, a well-lit chamber. It was a private apartment within the villa and they stood in a large, elegantly furnished sitting room that opened onto a private terrace that was bathed in moonlight. Two cats sat dozing on a couch, totally disinterested in the proceedings. Another was on a chair. A bedroom was visible through an open door. Two more doors remained closed. Maximus had never been inside the royal palace in Rome but he didn't imagine that it could be any more luxurious than this.
Maximus looked at Julia. She was as stunning as he remembered, her long red-gold hair spilling in soft waves over her bared shoulders. He reached for her and she flew into his arms, her face pressed to his neck as she wept.
"I'll leave you two alone," said Apollinarius with a smile as he dropped the lock and chains on a table.
Maximus nodded, not fully prepared to forgive the man yet for making him believe he was going to spend a week as his 'guest'. Apollinarius then closed and locked the door.
Maximus hugged Julia and whispered, "It's all right, Julia. It's all right."
Julia pulled away from him and swiped at her eyes. "You're the enslaved one now and you're comforting me?"
Maximus shrugged and smiled, "It's habit." His look changed to one of curiosity. "What did your friend mean when he said that you were going to get me out of here?"
A look of urgency and excitement glowed through her tears. "We've got it arranged, Maximus. At first light, long before the guards wake up, we'll smuggle you aboard a ship bound for Spain just before it sets sail. You'll be well out to sea before anyone knows you are gone. We'll just say you escaped and...," her voice trailed off as Maximus smiled at her tenderly and shook his head.
"I have no reason to return to Spain. I have every reason to stay in Rome."
"But your wife... your son."
A flash of pain crossed his face. "Both dead. Killed by Commodus' praetorian. Just as I was supposed to have died at their hands."
Julia's knees buckled and Maximus grabbed her arms and guided her to a chair. She stared at him, her eyes huge in her chalk-white face as he crouched before her holding her hands. "They're dead?" she repeated as if saying the words would make her believe it. "This... this changes things."
She glanced around the room as if taking stock of her belongings. "I need just a moment to pack some things then I can go with you. We--"
"No, Julia. I can't leave."
"You must leave, Maximus. You will die in the arena."
"Yes."
"You will leave?" she asked, hoping that 'yes' meant that he had changed his mind.
"Yes... I will die in the arena."
She grasped his arms and searched his blue-green eyes for answers. "I don't understand. I'm offering you life... freedom."
"My life is already gone. It was taken from me the day I found my wife's and son's bodies. I wanted to die then. It was just a twist of fate that I didn't... fate that placed me in a position where I could make the man who killed my family pay with his life. I intend to see that happen. Then I will die."
Julia was stunned. "Maximus, must I save you from yourself?"
"Julia. Please understand that I am not the man you knew before."
"You are." Her voice was teary again.
"No. That man is gone. I'm a slave. A gladiator. I entertain people by killing. My death will amuse the masses. I am nothing. My life is not worth saving."
Julia shook off his hands then rose and started pacing the room. Maximus rose too, noticing the sway of her slim hips and the curve of her breasts as she chewed on her thumbnail in frustration. She was truly beautiful.
Suddenly she whirled around, her demeanor quite changed.
"Maximus, hold out your hands."
He raised his eyebrows in question.
"Just do it." She moved close to him.
He wondered what had brought about the quick change in attitude, but he dutifully extended his arms, hands together, palms down. Julia quickly pulled the lock from behind her back and tried to snap his wrists together, fumbling in her haste. Maximus started to pull his hands away when he saw the lock but forced himself to relax until the lock was successfully snapped shut. Was she suddenly afraid of him? He held his hands extended so she could see what she had accomplished and raised his eyebrows again in question. Julia stared at his locked wrists as if in disbelief that she could have done such a thing. Maximus remained quiet and studied her curiously. She glanced at his face for only a second before going back to the table where she had scooped the lock and returned with the chains. His expression changed from one of curiosity to irritation and his hands dropped.
"Give me your hands," Julia ordered but she sounded anything but sure of herself.
Maximus studied her face but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Julia... enough."
She swallowed hard. "Give me your hands."
He tried to tease her. "Is that an order? Is domina ordering the slave to allow himself to be chained?"
She bit her lower lip but refused to reply. She simply held her ground.
Maximus sighed and raised his hands again watching her fumble with the chains as would an indulgent father with a mischievous child. The chains now successfully through the rings of his iron wristbands, she stood in confusion, the ends dangling from her hands and the heavy, rough chains contrasting sharply with her long, delicate fingers.
Maximus longed to reassure her that his determination to stay in Rome had been carefully considered but he didn't know how to make her understand.
Instead, amused by her obvious inexperience as a slave owner and her abhorrence at what she was doing, he suggested lightly, "You might want to chain me to that column over there, but the chains might damage the marble a bit."
Her confusion changed to conviction and she turned him and shoved him backwards until his back met the cold marble of the column on the opposite side of the room from the one he had suggested. She wrapped the long links around the column then pulled them back to his front, forcing his elbows to bend and his hands to his waist. Her confusion returned when she realized that she was holding the ends of the chains but had nothing to lock them to.
"You're not very good at this, are you? You clearly are not accustomed to restraining difficult slaves," Maximus said lightly, humor evident in his voice.
He obviously thought this was all a joke. She glanced at the table where she had left the key to the lock and heard him chuckle. It was too far to reach.
Furious, she flung down the chains, grabbed the key then swung around to face him fully expecting him to have removed the restraints. He hadn't moved. She picked up the chains again and pulled them as tight as she could eliciting a grunt of surprise from Maximus. She undid the lock, shoved the shaft through the chain links then snapped it shut again. Then she stood back and looked at him, her eyes round and her fingers pressing against her mouth, appalled that she had just chained a man -- a slave. She had chained Maximus.
He returned her shocked gaze with a level look. "Is this what you want?"
The slight tone of sarcasm in his voice snapped her back to the urgency of the situation. "What I want is you on board that ship," she said.
"Julia--"
"I'll have sailors carry you there and lock you in the hold."
"What if the captain doesn't allow it?"
"He will. I own the ship and he is in my employ, Maximus. In fact, I own an entire fleet of ships." She tossed her hair.
Maximus nodded, his face a study in admiration. "I'm impressed. You're certainly not the same woman I knew... how many years ago?"
"I haven't changed so much, Maximus, and neither have you. Our circumstances are different but we are the same people we were then."
"Julia, if I'm not here when Proximo returns he will kill a man who saved my life. I can't allow that to happen. Juba mustn't die for my freedom."
Julia's eyes glazed with tears. "Maybe he won't... maybe Proximo didn't mean it."
"Proximo can't allow a slave to escape without retribution. The other gladiator owners would demand severe punishment in order to show their slaves that such a thing is not tolerated. I wouldn't be surprised if they demanded that Proximo execute all of his gladiators as punishment for his carelessness with me. I couldn't live knowing that I had caused the deaths of men I consider to be my friends. Besides, there isn't an inch of this empire that Commodus wouldn't search until he found me. What does it matter if I die in a few weeks or a few months?"
"All for revenge? You live for revenge? You stay for revenge?"
Maximus dropped his eyes and said quietly, "There's more to it than that...much more."
"Then explain it to me because I don't understand."
Maximus looked at a table he had noticed earlier where a meal had been set out. "You promised me food, wine and comfort. Instead, I find myself chained again."
Julia took in his bemused expression, his strong arms and legs -- even more firmly muscled than she had remembered -- his torso wrapped suggestively in black leather strips and buckles... and she burst into tears. "You deserve it. You deserve to be chained," she sobbed.
Maximus made a move towards her but was stopped short by the chains.
"Julia?"
"How many years has it been, Maximus? Is that what you just asked? Well, I can tell you exactly how many years it's been right down to the day and hour since I saw you in your general's uniform saying goodbye to me -- and dismissing me from your life!"
The cats were fully awake now and staring at Julia with round eyes. One of them darted behind a sofa while another cautiously approached, it's green eyes curious but wary.
Wisely, Maximus remained silent.
"You have obsessed me... every hour of every day for the last six years I have thought of you and wondered where you were and what you were doing and if you were well. I imagined you in the arms of your wife and I wept knowing that I could never have you."
Maximus stared at the carpet. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be sorry, Maximus. Don't you see? So many times my love for you is the only reason I wanted to live. I've ached with love for you, Maximus...
on the first day I ever saw you... and every day since."
Maximus looked at the ceiling and blinked, the muscles of his throat contracting as he swallowed heavily. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the gold-veined marble that restrained him.
Julia's agonized fury was not appeased. "But, you never once thought of me again, did you, Maximus? You were too busy with your family and saving the empire to ever think of the slave-girl whore again."
"That's not true," Maximus whispered, his eyes still closed.
Julia moved very close and grasped his forearms, her voice low with urgency.
"Then why didn't you answer my letter?"
Neither Julia nor Maximus had heard the door to the apartment open and didn't realize that Apollinarius was about to enter the room when he heard her last words. "Uh oh," he muttered and quietly slipped back out of the room.
"Letter?" Maximus looked at her face so close to his, his tone perplexed.
She whirled away then faced him, her hands on her hips and her head cocked in accusation. "I was told that you received the letter. Don't try to tell me that you didn't."
"Yes, I received it. I--"
"But you didn't answer it!"
"Julia," the word was a plea for understanding. "It came to me when I was at Castra Regina. It arrived just hours before the camp came under attack by Barbarian forces. I read it, Julia, and I even started to reply, but... I didn't have time. Julia... I was at war. My own fortress was attacked days later and I lost hundreds of men. I was badly injured..."
She crossed her arms, her face flushed. "You could have replied later."
"The letter got lost. It must have got rolled up in my tent because Icouldn't find it later."
"How did not finding my letter stop you from replying?"
Maximus licked his dry lips. "I couldn't remember your last name or where you lived. I had my servant search for it but he couldn't find it either. Do you know who did, Julia? Do you know who did eventually find it?"
Julia set her lips in a stubborn line.
"My wife, that's who. She was with me at Vindobona. I had to explain to her who you were and why I got a letter -- that Olivia was convinced was a love letter -- from a woman I had never mentioned to her."
It was as if she hadn't heard him. "You could have made inquiries and found out where I was if you had really wanted to."
Suddenly Maximus exploded in anger and twisted against his bonds. "I WAS AT WAR! I WAS A GENERAL RESPONSIBLE FOR AN ARMY!"
Julia lurched back a step, startled, her hand on her heart. She had never heard him raise his booming voice, not even during his precarious time at the Black Sea when they had thwarted Cassius' plot to overthrow Marcus Aurelius. It drove through her like a lightening bolt. She extended her hands to try to placate him but his fury rolled and thundered like a violent sea storm.
"I was fighting to save Roman towns, Roman citizens, Roman soldiers! I was fighting to preserve the empire! But I lost, Julia, I lost everything! My family, my emperor, my army... my freedom! And during that time you've been worried about some damned letter!" Maximus' chest heaved and his face was florid. He dropped his head and shook it sadly. "And you've just been worried about some damned letter," he repeated, sounding totally drained.
His body slumped against the column. Suddenly he raised his head and laughed bitterly. "What were you doing tonight, Julia -- punishing me for that letter? Is that why I was tormented by your friend, Apollinarius, then left to hang in those chains for hours thinking that I was about to be raped...your friend's sex slave for a week? Just like you used to be?" Maximus let his head drop back again against the column. "Is that why you personally chained me up again, to make it clear that our positions our now reversed?"
"No," Julia mouthed, but no sound came out.
"So have you had enough revenge yet, Julia, for that unanswered letter, for your life of slavery? Have you punished me enough yet?" He laughed harshly.
"And you accuse me of living for revenge."
Julia sank into a chair, her limbs shaky and her face pasty. Her tawny cat jumped into her lap looking for some attention but she didn't even realize it was there and the feline soon jumped off and strutted away indignantly, tail high and twitching.
Maximus watched the cat, glad of the distraction. Julia watched him watching the cat and miserably pondered his words. Is that what she had done to him -- punished him for not responding to her letter? Punished him for being born a free man while she had been born a slave? Punished him for not loving her?
The feline gracefully leaped onto the table where the food was laid out and started carefully picking her way to the shrimp. Maximus reflexively licked his lips, suddenly reminded of how very hungry and thirsty he was.
The two remained across the room from each other, silent and remote, both suffering terrible pain and anguish, unable to offer each other comfort.
Julia finally forced her watery limbs to move. She picked up the key and approached Maximus slowly. Without a word she unlocked the chains and let them drop to the floor. He watched her hands, not her face.
"I'm tired, Maximus, and it's almost dawn." She addressed his chest. "I need some sleep and I'm sure you do too. I... I hadn't really prepared a room for you because I thought you'd be on board ship by now. But, there's a second bedroom in there...," she gestured to a closed door with her head, "and it is quite dark because it has no window. You'll be able to sleep late. It's a bit feminine, I'm afraid. No man has ever shared this apartment with me."
That piqued Maximus' curiosity. "Your husband?" he asked as he removed the chains from his wrist cuffs.
"In name only. We never were intimate. When I was released from slavery I vowed that I would never share my body with a man again unless I loved him.
I cared for my husband but I didn't love him. So... I've lived here alone."
Maximus longed to stroke her pale cheek. But he didn't. He longed to fold her in his arms and protect her from misery. But he couldn't.
"I'll have Apollinarius find some way to get those iron cuffs off you later, and he'll find you some proper clothes and sandals. If you're going to remain here a week you may as well be comfortable. You can bathe when you wake up."
He nodded and watched her as she walked to her bedroom and gently shut the door. Immediately, he heard weeping from the other side.
Unsettled, Maximus glanced at the door of the room he had been assigned then looked back at the food, now being pawed, licked and devoured by three cats who must have figured that it was just going to go to waste anyway. Julia continued to weep.
He walked out to the terrace, badly in need of fresh air, and leaned with his hands on the sculpted marble wall. The night was black with only a hint of brightness in the eastern sky. A few lights of a town twinkled in the distance but beyond that was only darkness. Maximus drew a deep breath. The sea. He could smell it clearly now.
"General?"
Apollinarius stood in the garden looking up at him. Maximus started to turn away.
"General! Please! Let me explain and apologize. Please."
Reluctantly, Maximus returned to the wall.
"Thank you, sir. I... I am very sorry for causing you so much distress tonight, as I have already said. I honestly didn't realize that you would be left chained there so long."
"You were the one with the key," replied Maximus coldly.
"Yes, I know that. But Julia came to me and begged me to give her more time with you. Knowing that you were to be immediately taken to a ship... and knowing how much she loves you... I felt she deserved as much time with you as she could steal."
"I was alone."
"I know that now. All I can say is that I'm sorry. Julia is a wonderful woman and I'm trying to understand why she did that. I don't think that she would have deliberately wanted to torment you... I really don't. She loves you, sir, with all her heart. When she discovered that the gladiator Maximus was indeed her General Maximus it almost destroyed her. All this time she had envisioned you safe and happy and it affected her terribly to realize otherwise."
Maximus leaned his hip against the wall, folded his arms and stared into the blackness.
"I'm not excusing her behavior tonight, sir... or mine, for that matter.
It's... it was a rather amazing thing to have a man of your strength and power at my command, and I admit that I took advantage of it. I'm quite ashamed of myself."
Maximus ran his hands through his hair leaving it tousled. He looked back down at Apollinarius expectantly.
That was the older man's cue to continue. "I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation tonight... or should I say, your argument. I'm not sure why Julia focused so stubbornly on that letter, General. Oh, she was terribly disappointed when she didn't get a reply but she got over it. She hasn't mentioned that letter in ages, as a matter of fact. Tonight she...she just seemed to need something tangible to focus her... disappointment on... and she choose that letter."
"Disappointment?"
"Yes. You see, she thought she was going to save you the way that you saved her... and set you free the way you freed her. But, you wouldn't allow it.
By not allowing it you chose to likely die... chose to take yourself away from her again."
Maxims sighed. "My life is very complicated. It may look simple from the outside but it is still very complicated. I have an obligation to fulfill and I must do it regardless of the cost. And that cost will probably be my life."
"General, you chose death over Julia's offer of freedom."
"Chose? I have no choice. Why do both you and Julia assume that I have a choice?"
Apollinarius was confused. "I assumed--"
"You assume too much. I have duties to fulfill. I have no choice.
Unfortunately, Julia does not figure into those duties."
"Unfortunately...?"
Maximus started to walk away then turned back again, pacing in small circles of frustration. He started to talk, stopped, then started again.
"Do you not think that I am flattered that a woman of her beauty and intelligence finds me attractive?
Do you not think that, given more time together, I possibly could return her love?
I have no time Apollinarius. I have no choice. My being here just makes it harder on everyone. It would have been better if I had been left in that cell in Rome."
"I didn't understand. Once again, I am sorry, General."
Maximus merely nodded and glanced again at the eastern sky where the red sun just broke the horizon. Golden red, like Julia's hair. Had he been a fool not to take her offer and escape slavery? Had he always been a fool to put duty before his own happiness? He knew no other way to operate. He had been raised since the age of fourteen on duty. With a last glance at the man in the garden he headed back into the sitting room. There was no sound of weeping from Julia's room.
It was almost dinner time before Julia emerged from her bedroom, her thick hair tousled and eyes still slightly swollen from sleep and weeping. She pulled her silken cream wrap about her body then quietly opened the door to Maximus' room. The sliver of light from the sitting room illuminated the bed -- the untouched bed. Julia shut the door again, her heart pounding. Had he left somehow, after his conversation with Apollinarius? In almost a panic she turned, then stopped short. Maximus was sprawled on her couch by the food table, snoring softly, one hand resting gently on her sleek black cat who was contentedly purring on his chest, rising and falling with every breath. Julia crept closer. The couch was too short for him and one leg hung over the arm while the other was bent at the knee with his booted foot resting on the floor. His tunic had crept up exposing almost the full length of his tan, muscular legs. He hadn't bothered to remove the leather cuirass and Julia supposed that he was very accustomed to wearing armor. The hand that wasn't on the cat was propped against the back of the couch, his fingers gently curled. His head was turned towards the back too, at a rather uncomfortable-looking angle, and his hair was tousled. She walked closer to better admire him and her foot kicked something hard that spun away on the woven carpet. The silver wine jug. Empty. No wonder he wasn't feeling any pain. It had been full when Julia last saw it and she knew her cats didn't like wine. All that wine on an empty stomach.
She gently lifted the cat off his chest, catching his hand so it didn't drop, and set the animal on the floor where it stretched luxuriously before hopping onto an empty chair. Julia sat on the carpet beside the couch, lifted Maximus' limp hand, and gently rested her head on the warm spot where the cat had just been, letting his hand fall into her hair. The sleeping man didn't stir. Julia listened to the strong, steady thump of his heart through the leather and remembered the words she had overheard last night: "Do you not think that, given more time together, I possibly could return her love?"Julia was determined that one week would be plenty of time.
Chapter 18 - The Interview
The slot in the door opened and Glaucus dug his knuckles into the leather cot, hoisted himself out and walked forward to accept his morning rations.
His hand reached for the tray but it was immediately pulled back again, out of reach. "Very funny," the prisoner commented. "It isn't enough that I'm in here -- you have to torment me as well?" The food tray didn't return although the slot remained open. He crouched and peered through the narrow opening. What he saw was another pair of eyes. Startled, he started to step back, then stood firm. "Hello?" he said cautiously.
There was no reply. He stared at the eyes -- strange eyes -- unblinking.
"Hello?" he tried again.
No reply.
"My name is Glaucus. Who are you?"
The eyes continued to glitter at him.
"Look, I'm willing to share that food, if you really want some, but I would appreciate having enough to at least partially fill the void in my stomach."
There was no reply from the eyes.
Unnerved, Glaucus walked backwards until the back of his legs found the cot and he sat down. He wished he had some way to close that slot. There was nowhere he could go in that small cell to escape that intrusive gaze.
Finally, the slot snapped closed. A moment later the door opened and a guard stepped in. Glaucus studied his eyes -- they were not the same eyes that had just been staring at him. "Get up," the guard ordered.
Glaucus hesitated. Was he about to be executed?
"Get on your feet!" the guard insisted, his hand moving to his sword.
He stood up, his mind in turmoil. Was he about to disappear the way his father had? Would his family come to Germania, the way they had for Maximus, just to find no trace of him? How could he leave a sign... an indication that he had been here? There was always Jonivus but the old man had not come. His thoughts were interrupted by a hand in his back and a shove that sent him out the door of the cell only to face three more guards. "I need my pack," Glaucus said.
The guards just stared at him as if he were speaking some foreign language.
"My pack. It's in the cell. If I'm being released, I need my pack."
"What makes you think you're being released?" sneered a guard.
"Well, because you have no reason to hold me."
"That's not our decision," the guard replied but he motioned to his comrade to pick up the pack.
A good sign, thought Glaucus. He was accompanied out of the prison and drew his first breath of totally fresh air in weeks. Unlike the first time he had seen it, the camp was alive with activity -- soldiers doing every kind of task imaginable related to army life and Glaucus was so fascinated by the normalcy of it all that he momentarily forgot his own concerns. They walked until they reached another stone building and he was allowed only a moment's hesitation before he was marched inside. It was the bathhouse.
A short time later, hair damp and wearing a soldier's tunic instead of his own crusty clothes, he once again crossed the threshold of his father's house in the praetorium, two guards in front and two behind. As he suspected, Vesnius was waiting for him, but the general merely glanced at him before knocking on the door of a room Glaucus had never seen. When it opened, Vesnius nodded to the guards to usher Glaucus inside.
The room was dim, almost as dark as his cell had been, and Glaucus was momentarily disoriented. Indistinct shapes seemed to lunge out of the darkness as he slowly walked forward -- a marble bust of some emperor on the left side, a massive golden eagle on the other side, various shields and weapons and standards everywhere. The room seemed cramped and stuffy, it was so jammed with things, and the smell of incense was cloying. It was no wonder then, that it took Glaucus some time to distinguish the shape of the small man sitting in an ornamental golden chair so large that it almost engulfed him. The emperor? Could this be the emperor of Rome? Glaucus stared at the scowling man in some confusion.
Glaucus started when a voice near his ear growled, "You impertinent brat.
Get on your knees before the emperor."
He dropped to the floor, his head down, and took advantage of his position to try to collect his thoughts. He was being called before the emperor of Rome. Why?
"Get on your feet, young man, so I can see you," said another voice and Glaucus assumed, correctly, that the order had come from the emperor himself. He quickly rose and faced the chair, his breathing shallow and his limbs unsteady. A black-clad praetorian moved to his left side and Glaucus assumed by his elaborate uniform that he held a very high position. Glaucus didn't know where to look. Neither man said anything while they appraised him and he assumed that he should not speak unless requested to. He didn¹t know what to do so he kept his eyes on his feet and remained silent, arms stiffly by his side.
"Your name is Glaucus?" the emperor asked after what seemed like forever.
"Yes, Sire." Glaucus hoped those were the appropriate words.
"Maximus Decimus Glaucus?"
"Yes, Sire," he repeated.
"Your father was General Maximus Decimus Meridius, general of the Felix legions?"
"Yes, Sire," he said again.
"I understood that General Maximus had only one son. How is it that he has two?"
"You knew my father, Sire?"
"Answer me."
"He didn't know about me, Sire."
"Why?"
"My mother elected to keep the news of her pregnancy and my birth private.
She thought it would be easier for my father since he was here, in Germania, unable to return home to see me."
"And after he did see you I am surprised that he didn't tell someone about his second son."
"He never saw me. He disappeared first."
Severus was silent for a moment then said, "I understand that you are looking for information about your father."
"Yes, Sire," said Glaucus, this time with a tone of hope and he finally raised his eyes to find the emperor looking straight back, his face a stern mask.
"What information did you expect to find here?"
Since he wasn't ordered not to, Glaucus continued to look at Septimius Severus. The man was somewhat of a disappointment as far as emperors went even though he was dressed in purple and gold military regalia and wore a gold laurel-wreath crown on his head. Glaucus expected him to be much bigger and much more -- regal. "I hope to find answers about my father's disappearance eighteen years ago, Sire."
"And what have you discovered?"
"Very little, Sire. There seems to be a conflict of opinion when it comes to my father and no clear answer about whether he is alive or dead. Do... do you know anything, Sire?" Was it permissible to ask an emperor a direct question?
Severus didn't seem to mind as he replied easily, "Commodus was an irresponsible and unbalanced emperor. He was capable of anything."
"What do you mean by 'anything', Sire?" Glaucus' attention was drawn to the armed praetorian whose eyes had been examining him as he had been conversing with the emperor, and who now moved behind him. For some reason Glaucus felt decidedly uncomfortable having the man out of his sight.
If Severus sensed the younger man's discomfort, he ignored it. "Maximus may be in exile... he may be imprisoned. He may even have left the empire and be living among the barbarians. Then again... he may be dead."
"His body was never found--"
"That doesn't mean anything at all." Severus narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. "Why is it so important that you find a father you have never seen? Perhaps he doesn't want to see you. Perhaps he has a new family and your existence would only distress him. You would be a reminder of an unpleasant past."
"That's not the kind of man my father was--" Glaucus glanced sharply to his right to find the praetorian there, evaluating him again. Those eyes -- now he knew who had been staring at him through the slot in his cell door.
Glaucus shuddered slightly.
"How do you know what kind of man your father was, young man?" the emperor demanded. "He was not suitable material for power even if he was highly regarded by the emperor and the army."
Glaucus was confused by the emperor's comment. "Power? My father was a farmer, Sire, and wanted nothing more than to return home to Spain and be with his family. My desire is to find out why he was prevented from doing that -- and to clear any misperceptions about his loyalty to Rome."
Severus leaned towards him, his neck extended and his eyes narrowed. "I'm speaking of real power, not merely military power," he hissed. "Real power."
Glaucus bristled. "My father was fully capable of complete command. He could have handled as much power as the emperor was prepared to give him."
Severus pounded the arm of his chair. "So -- you admit it, then -- you admit why you are really here!"
Baffled again by the emperor's words, Glaucus merely shook his head and said nothing.
"The gods decided differently, didn't they young man? The gods chose their emperor."
"I... I don't understand, Sire."
"Oh, don't you?" The emperor's voice dripped with sarcasm. He sat up again, pulling himself to his greatest seated height. "So, you are going on a quest. What exactly do you hope to find?"
"The truth, Sire."
The praetorian sauntered to the side of the throne, turned and folded his arms, his eyes still on Glaucus.
The emperor folded his arms too, the two of them presenting a formidable opposition. "And where do you hope that truth will lead you?"
Glaucus' green eyes darted from one man to the other. "I... I merely seek peace of mind, Sire. I just need to know what happened to him. I seek nothing more."
"You can't fool me. I know what you really want." Severus then grabbed both arms of his throne and hoisted himself to his feet, a slight grimace momentarily distorting his face, but as it dissolved his attitude suddenly changed -- softened. "Well... I may be able to help you in your quest for peace of mind."
Glaucus caught his breath. "Sire?"
Severus took a great deal of time considering his next words carefully. "You may want to start looking for signs of your father in... Thracia."
The cold eyes flicked a curious look at the emperor then turned their appraising glare back on Glaucus again.
"Thracia? Why Thracia, Sire?"
"Your father was there once, I believe. He may have returned there."
Any further questions from Glaucus died on his tongue as Severus moved towards him. For the first time Glaucus noticed how slow and deliberate the man's motions were. Severus glanced up into the younger man's face then stepped back two paces so he wouldn't be so obviously shorter than Glaucus, wincing as he did so. Glaucus stood his ground, more puzzled now than nervous.
Severus smiled and his eyes swept Maximus' son and he briefly clasped the younger man's shoulder. "You look good in that soldier's tunic," he said to Glaucus, "doesn¹t he Plautianus?"
The praetorian nodded his head slowly, his eyes hooded now. "He certainly does."
Glaucus dropped his eyes to the very plain off-white wool tunic that he wore instead of his usual black then looked back at Severus. "My own clothes were very dirty, Sire, after spending so long in prison. Why was I arres--"
"Have you ever considered becoming a soldier like your father?" interrupted Severus as he anticipated Glaucus next question -- one he'd rather not deal with.
"I am a farmer -- like my father."
Severus waved his hand in dismissal of that answer. "A soldier's calling is much more important than that of a farmer. A soldier serves the people of the empire. Your father served the people of the empire."
"And was stripped of his command then ordered executed for his efforts."
The scowl returned. "Don't be impertinent. As I have already said, Commodus was unbalanced. Now, if Maximus had served me the situation would have been very different. I would have liked very much to a have a soldier of your father's accomplishments under my command."
"You just said that he was not suitable--"
Plautianus leaped towards Glaucus, his arm coiled as if to strike him.
Unblinking, Glaucus stood his ground and the praetorian slowly lowered his arm. "How dare you contradict the emperor."
Severus turned a hot glare on his praetorian commander as he turned and headed slowly to the throne. He surreptitiously straightened the cushioned back support before he gingerly sat down again.
What was wrong with him, Glaucus wondered?
After a few deep breaths, Severus addressed the younger man again. "You have your father's courage. I like that. I need men like that." Severus tried to paste an inviting smile on his face but all it did was thin his lips even further. "As a matter of fact, I'd like you to join my praetorian." He quickly held up his hand when Glaucus' jaw dropped. "Any Roman citizen would be proud to accept my offer."
"I... I am very flattered, Sire, that you think me worthy of your praetorian. But I would never be able to serve Rome or her emperor well if Idid not first clear my mind of the questions surrounding my father."
Plautianus took one threatening step forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Did I hear you just refuse the emperor?"
Glaucus looked at the black-clad praetorian commander. "It was not a refusal, sir. I just need some time."
Plautianus moved to stand nose-to-nose with Maximus' son. "Do you not realize the magnitude of that offer? You -- an untrained man, not even a soldier -- dare turn down an offer to become one of the most elite soldiers in the empire?"
Glaucus held his stare. "The time is not right," he said, his voice low, quiet and steady.
"For whom?" demanded the praetorian, his own voice rising in anger. "You?
The only thing that matters is what the emperor wants. Your needs mean nothing! You serve him!"
"Now, now, Plautianus," said Severus from behind the praetorian's back. "It was not an order, after all. I don't think that your technique will be very persuasive." Thus admonished, Plautianus stepped grudgingly aside, his eyes still spitting venom at Glaucus. Severus continued. "I would be very pleased indeed to have the son of Maximus Decimus Meridius ride at my side. It is the least I can do to make up for the failings of my young predecessor to your family.
Glaucus tried to think of another way he could say 'no' without actually saying 'no'. "Forgive me, Sire, but I have waited many years to start the journey that would bring me the answers that I seek and I must proceed. I
would never be able to serve you well with that always on my mind." Glaucus wondered if he would live to see the morning.
"Alright, alright, Glaucus," Septimius laughed and held up his hand as if defeated. "You do what you have to do."
Plautianus turned a black glare on the emperor who totally ignored it.
"Does that mean that I am I free now, Sire?" Glaucus inquired.
"Yes, yes, you may go."
But Glaucus hesitated. "May I have the weapons that were taken from me?" He quickly realized that he had pushed too far.
"No, you may not! You injured three of my soldiers. When you have proper training as a soldier you may have the weapons back."
Still Glaucus hesitated.
"If you don't leave I may change my mind and send you back to that prison."
"My father's portrait, Sire. I was told that you ordered it painted over. If you admired my father as much as you profess, why did you do that?"
Clearly irritated, Severus replied, "Because I was ordered to by Rome. Now, get out of my site."
This time Glaucus did as he was bid without question.
"You allowed him to defy you!" shouted Plautianus the minute Glaucus was gone.
"He's not an easy man to intimidate."
"Maybe not for you."
"Your way would not have worked with a man like that any more than it did with his father."
"Well... now what do we do?" demanded Plautianus, clearly annoyed that Septimius had allowed Glaucus to leave the praetorium.
"We have him followed. Every minute of every day, no matter where he goes.
And I want a daily report of his activities and immediate notice of any suspicious behavior. Prepare four of your men to trail him and make sure he doesn't see them."
"Do you think all of this is necessary? He clearly didn't understand what you were talking about."
"He was bluffing!" shouted Severus. "Of course he understood. He's just trying to throw me off his trail so he can work behind my back to unseat me.
"Why did you suggest Thracia?"
"Thracia's safe. That copied document that was sent to me came from somewhere in the east and Thracia is neither Rome nor the east. It is close enough to the east, though, for whomever has the original to find Glaucus -- and then we move in. Besides, too many people in Rome knew Maximus as a general and a gladiator so I don't want his son there. He will harmless be in Thracia and far removed from anything. Get your men ready right away before he has a chance to leave the camp. And remember -- we need that document."
And then, thought Plautianus, we can get rid of him, and Thracia was the perfect place for a man to disappear.
Chapter 19 - The sword
Jonivus was startled from his snoozing by Zeus' sudden barking. He snorted a few times and lifted his groggy head from where it had dropped to his chest, a habit that had developed with the onset of old age. His eyes not fully open, he stumbled as he rose from his chair and made his way into the garden. "Shhh," he tried to hush the dog but Zeus barked and lunged at the door in the garden wall stopping only long enough to run in an excited circle before he started again.
"Who's there?" Jonivus shouted above the din and inched his hand towards a club that he kept handy.
"It's me, Glaucus. Jonivus, let me in. Hurry!"
The old man threw back the bolt and Glaucus pushed open the door, almost knocking Jonivus over in his haste. After a quick glance over his shoulder the young man slammed the door closed and locked it again while holding down his excited dog with the other arm.
"Wha? What--?" mumbled a confused Jonivus but Glaucus motioned for him not to speak then grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the house where Glaucus securely bolted that door too.
"What's going on. What's happened?" Jonivus asked as Glaucus collapsed into a chair near the kitchen, Zeus practically climbing into his lap, his long tongue lapping at any area of exposed skin.
"I wish I knew. Jonivus, I just spent the last two weeks in the prison inside the fortress. The prison that you built."
"WHAT?"
"Yes. Didn't you know?"
"Of course not, how would I know that?"
"I asked General Vesnius to send a soldier to tell you. When you didn't come, I figured that he hadn't."
"What happened? What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything, Jonivus. I was abducted in the middle of the night at an inn in Castra Regina by six soldiers, then hauled back here and tossed into that prison. I didn't get out until today -- and do you know why I finally did get out of that cell?"
Jonivus just shook his head, his eyes wide and concerned.
"To have an audience with the emperor."
"No," exclaimed Jonivus, aghast.
"Yes. Septimius Severus himself."
Jonivus slowly sank into the other chair. "What did he want?"
"He offered me a position in his praetorian guard. It was the strangest conversation, Jonivus. He kept implying that I was after something... or that I intended to do something... or that I knew something. I had no idea what he was talking about. I told him that all I wanted was to find out about my father but he clearly didn't believe me."
Jonivus was suddenly very wary. "He offered you that position to keep you close to him -- under his control. There's no other explanation for it."
"But why? What threat am I to him? How can I be a threat to the emperor of Rome?"
Jonivus rose slowly, his brow puckered in concern, and brought a decanter of wine to the table along with two goblets. Before he could pour Glaucus grabbed the decanter, tilted it to his lips, and let the liquid slide sown his throat. Jonivus noticed that the boy's hands trembled slightly. He also noticed the soldier's tunic that he wore instead of his usual immaculate black. He rose again to find some food. "Glaucus, nobody really knew everything that happened the night your father disappeared. A few people knew bits and pieces but your father may have been the only man who could put all of the pieces together. The emperor obviously thinks that you know something too. Something that could harm him."
"But what? And how could I possibly know anything? I never met my father."
The old man shuffled towards the table with bread, cheese and salted meat.
Glaucus pushed Zeus' front legs off his lap and stood up to help but Jonivus waved him away with his head. "Sit, sit... I'm not the one who has been in prison for two weeks." He placed the food in front of Glaucus then took his seat again, picking up on the conversation. "I don't know, and the emperor may not really know either. What exactly did he say?"
Glaucus ripped apart a loaf of bread and hungrily stuffed it in his mouth, chewing as he spoke, the words muffled. "He kept talking about 'power' and that the gods chose their emperor and that my father wasn't suitable material for real power. He put the emphasis on the word 'real' like that meant something."
Jonivus crossed his arms on the table in front of him and studied the wood as he considered Glaucus' words. "Severus seems to believe that Maximus is, or was, some sort of menace to his position as emperor and, by extension, that you could be too.
"That's insane, Jonivus. I'm not even a soldier. Nor a politician."
"Your father was a very powerful man, Glaucus. Far more than just a general.
He had the support of the entire Roman army and the love of the emperor.
Maximus could have had anything he wanted -- been anything he wanted."
"But the point is that all he wanted to do was go back to Spain. I told Severus that and that's when he insulted my father's suitability for real power."
"Severus would have a hard time believing that a man with so much power and influence would give it all up for his family. He certainly wouldn't. Maybe he feels that you will try to claim your father's heritage."
"I've already got my father's heritage. The farm."
Jonivus nodded thoughtfully then asked, "What did the emperor say when you declined his offer to be a praetorian?"
"He wasn't very happy. That disgusting praetorian commander of his was even worse, though. That man made my skin crawl. Severus told me I could leave and that I should start looking for my father in Thracia."
Jonivus straightened. "He thinks Maximus is alive?" he asked, astounded.
Glaucus bit into a piece of hard white cheese, Zeus nearby to catch any crumbles. "I asked him outright if he knew what happened to my father and he implied that anything could have happened -- that he could be alive and living somewhere where he can't be found, or in prison... or even dead. He claimed he didn't know."
"Thracia. So... is that where you are going?"
"No, I'm going to Rome just like we discussed. There's something about the emperor... I just don't trust him very much. I have to leave right away,
Jonivus, before he changes his mind about letting me go. They gave me my horse but kept my weapons. Do you have a sword I can borrow -- or know where I can get one?"
Jonivus nodded and patted the boy's hand. "You eat. I'll be right back."
A few minutes later Glaucus heard Jonivus' shuffling footsteps and called out, "You've got to stop feeding this dog so much -- he's getting..." the words died in his mouth as he saw what Jonivus held in his hands. It was a scabbard -- a rich dark leather scabbard trimmed in gleaming brass. Jonivus didn't say a word, he simply held it out to the boy.
Glaucus' breath left him in a rush as he reverently accepted the sword.
"Where did you get something like this, Jonivus? It's magnificent. Worthy of a...." He looked up suddenly, shocked.
Jonivus simply nodded slowly.
The blood drained from Glaucus' face. "It was his?" he whispered.
Jonivus nodded again, quite moved at seeing Maximus' sword in the hands of his son. It was something he never believed he'd see.
Slowly, Glaucus clutched the ivory and mahogany hilt and withdrew the sword in one long, slow motion, the steel singing against the scabbard.
Jonivus' voice was husky. "It's the sword that Marcus Aurelius commissioned for your father when the emperor made him his general. Maximus used it always."
In awe, Glaucus held the sword straight up, the light kissing it's perfect, tapered blade. He tilted it to the right then to the left, marveling at its weight and flawless balance. One by one he fit his fingers into the ivory grooves and almost felt the warmth of his father's hand, as if his fingers had just left it -- as if he had just handed it to his son. Sudden tears pooled in his eyes then spilled down his cheeks. Slowly he sank into his chair, his eyes still on the hilt. He brought it close to his face for better examination and read the small letters SPQR that were engraved on each side then reverently touched the head of Mars -- the god of war -- emblazoned on the hilt, accompanied by intricate brass leaves. The seal of Marcus Aurelius was embedded in the ivory grip and more brass leaves in a cross pattern adorned the mahogany knob. He could hardly tear his eyes away from the sword long enough to examine the scabbard. The strap was attached to the hard, mahogany-colored leather case by four brass laurel leaves with the head of a lion in the middle. Ornamental brass also protected the scabbard's tip.
"I'm not worthy of this," Glaucus breathed.
"Yes... I think you are. You are indeed."
"It's in perfect condition."
"I've kept it carefully wrapped up and concealed except when I have taken it out occasionally to polish it. Cicero treasured it before me."
Glaucus slashed at his tears with the back of his hand. "My father's servant?"
"Yes. He kept only two things that belonged to your father -- the little carvings of your mother and brother and this sword which he cared for. They all meant a great deal to him. After Cicero also disappeared, and the carvings went with him, I took the sword. No one else knew he had it."
"It's incredible," Glaucus marveled and extended his arm, the sword making a perfect extension of his strong limb. "I don't know how to thank you."
"You don't need to. That sword rightfully belongs to you. I'm just very glad that Maximus had a son to pass it on to. A son most worthy of it."
Chapter 20 - Verona
The Alps finally behind him, Glaucus prepared to rest in Verona for a day before crossing Via Postumia then heading south on Via Aemilia where he would connect with Via Cassia, then Via Flaminia and on into Rome. In a few days he would cross the Po River then wind through the rolling Appennine Mountains before descending into the Tiber River Valley. He still had a long way to go and the roads would get busier as he approached Rome. He was impatient to reach his destination and had barely noticed the beauty of the mountain vistas.
He sat with his back against a clammy brick wall in a tavern in Verona, listened to the steady rain drum on the tile roof and decided to wait here a day or so until the downpour subsided. The dirt on the roads turned to mud as slick as ice in such weather and he wasn't willing to risk his horse's delicate legs. The moisture made the tavern uncomfortably muggy and Glaucus guessed that the rooms above would be the same. He shrugged back his woolen cape letting it fall to the plain wooden chair behind him and used the movement to mask a surreptitious glance around the crowded room. They weren't there. That didn't mean that they weren't in Verona, they simply weren't among the patrons in the tavern. Glaucus relaxed slightly wondering, once again, if he wasn't imagining that men were following him -- shadowy men with indistinct faces and furtive movements.
He yawned broadly then sipped his wine as he awaited his food. Whoever the men were, there was no question that they were watching him on behalf of the emperor -- an emperor who seemed to regard the son of Maximus as a great threat for some inexplicable reason. Other than feeling violated and annoyed, Glaucus couldn't perceive any immediate danger. If they had wanted to kill him they could have done so in the mountains and tossed his body into a deep crevice where it would have been devoured by wolves. No, they were simply watching him... and probably reporting his movements back to Severus. Glaucus wondered wickedly how the emperor took the news that he had gone south into Italia not east into Thracia as Severus had suggested.
When he had first noticed the men he had thought them to be travelers like himself on the busy Roman roads and that it was merely a coincidence that they followed the same route and schedule. He had thought them to be simply curious about his mourning attire and the magnificent sword that swung at his hip. But, he had approached them one evening at a mountain inn to engage them in casual conversation and they had scattered like leaves in the wind, each heading in a different direction, their faces obscured by hastily drawn hoods. That's when he had known for sure.
There were four of them, working in pairs. After he had accepted to the fact that he was under surveillance, Glaucus started to amuse himself on the long trip by playing games with his spies, even though he was the only one who found them entertaining. One night he had entered an inn by the front door only to climb out the window and across a roof the following morning well before sunrise. He was miles away from the inn when Severus' men finally grew suspicious at how uncharacteristically late he was sleeping. They didn't catch up with him until evening prompting them to leave one miserable man outside the inn where he was staying from then on. Glaucus wondered which poor soul had drawn the short straw this dreary evening. He also enjoyed rounding a bend and finding a long stretch of straight road with heavy forest on either side. He would kick Ultor into a gallop then rein him in hard and plough into the trees, watching as the four men charged past, wondering what had happened to their quarry. Then he would emerge from the trees, the black-garbed man on the black horse -- the prey stalking the hunters. They knew that he knew that he was being followed... but they valiantly carried on with their mission.
Tonight, though, he was too weary for games and simply wanted to dine in peace. Instead of watching for his unwanted companions he turned his eyes to the low fire that crackled nearby as it feebly attempted to draw some of the moisture from the room full of people clad in damp woolen garments. He would be glad to finally reach Rome, the mysterious great capital of the Roman empire. How different it would be from Germania and probably from Hispania as well. He doubted that Emerita Augusta, for all of its glory, would be but a taste of Rome.
Glaucus stretched out his legs and forced back another yawn. He wondered how Zeus was doing. Jonivus had seemed so forlorn as Glaucus had prepared to make a hasty departure from Vindobona that Glaucus had asked the old man if he would do him a huge favour and care for his dog while he was on his journey explaining to him that Zeus would simply be a hindrance in Rome.
Jonivus' face had brightened when Glaucus had said that he would return to Vindobona to retrieve Zeus when his search was over. The old man had immediately agreed and called Zeus to him so he could ruffle the dog's fur and promise him long twilight walks every night. After a painful goodbye, Glaucus slipped enough money under the old man's pillow to care for all of his basic needs for a few months, then saddled Ultor and was on his way.
It wasn't until he was just outside the Vindobona gates that Glaucus had remembered that he had left all of his personal documents at the fortress.
He had reluctantly returned to the army camp, where Septimius Severus was obviously still in residence, and stood outside the gates while a soldier retrieved the documents from General Vesnius. He quickly sorted through them to make sure nothing was missing and found a hastily-scribbled note from Vesnius telling him that he had greatly admired his father and that he wished him good luck on his quest. Then, he had pulled Ultor around and headed for Rome.
The tavern door opened emitting a gust of misty wind and Glaucus glanced up to find two of the operatives shaking the rain off their cloaks. One of them looked his way and he nodded in friendly response prompting the startled man to quickly turn away. They were so transparent, thought Glaucus. They may be well-trained and skilled soldiers but they knew little about the art of subterfuge. He wondered idly how they got their reports to the emperor and how often they were required to do so. He also wondered what might prompt Severus to issue the order for them to finally move against him and put an end to his search for his father.
His thoughts were interrupted by the serving girl who smiled shyly as she placed a steaming bowl of stew and freshly baked bread in front of him.
"Thank you," Glaucus said as he pulled up his chair close to the table, then a slow grin spread across his face and he beckoned the girl closer and whispered, "I'd like to buy your best wine for those men over there -- the ones who just came in. Please be sure to tell them it's from me."
"Yes sir," the girl bobbed as she rushed off to fulfill his request. A few minutes later she delivered the wine to the men who had settled into the furthest, darkest corner and Glaucus reveled in their look of surprise. He waited patiently until one finally glanced his way then he raised his goblet in greeting. Reluctantly, the man nodded back. Glaucus grinned and dug into his stew, quite pleased with the day's events. He could lose them, he was sure, in the crowded city of Rome. Until then, they were amusing company.
