Glaucus' Story
Chapter 26 - The Sea 180 A.D.
Maximus stood thigh-deep in the rolling surf of the Tyrrhenian Sea, steady as a rock despite the forceful green waves breaking against his body. Hands on his hips, he eyed the ships waiting to enter Ostia harbor -- dozens of them. Just as many were leaving, setting their sails to catch the wind on their way to ports all over the Mediterranean and into the Atlantic ocean where access to the great rivers would lead them to Roman towns in the northern provinces. The massive lighthouse of Ostia was to his right, a beacon and a testament to Roman engineering.
He was dressed in a simple white tunic of fine wool that Apollinarius had thought would suit him well -- and it did. It fell softly over his shoulders and was caught at the waist by a supple wide black leather belt, then fell in gentle folds to just above his knees, the bottom rising and falling with the movement of the waves. He stretched his arms over his head and locked his fingers, turning his palms upwards as he stretched backwards, totally relaxed.
Sleek as a cat, thought Julia from her reclining position on the beach under the shade of a striped blue and white awning. She had never learned to swim so avoided the water, especially when the surf was as high as today, but her location afforded her a much better view anyway -- of Maximus.
He turned his head and grinned at her, the first smile of pure joy that she had ever seen from him and she was dazzled. He looked so boyish with his unoiled hair curling softly and ruffled by the breeze. She responded with a similar smile and tried to paint a mental picture of him that she could summon to her consciousness and treasure long after he was gone.
He waded out of the surf and padded up the beach, water cascading off his lower body; the wet white tunic revealing far more than he realized. Julia made another mental picture.
He resumed his water pose again but this time at Julia's feet, dripping cool water on her toes. She too was wearing a short tunic appropriate for the beach and she saw his eyes devour her long, shapely legs before they hastily flicked up to her eyes. "Why don't you come in wading?"
She cocked her head and squinted up at him. "Because you never taught me how to swim."
Maximus was puzzled for a second then smiled. "No, I guess I didn't, did I?
Well... just come in up to your knees."
Julia looked past Maximus to the crashing waves and screwed up her face. "I think I'd rather not."
"Alright then," said Maximus as he turned and ran back towards the water then launched himself into the air and cut into a coiling wave, quickly engulfed by the white foam.
Julia gasped and hastened to her feet. The wave rolled on towards the beach but he wasn't in it. Was he alright? She ran towards the water, kicking up sand behind her, stopping where the sand turned dark. There was no sign of him. Alarmed, she scanned the water for any sign of a white tunic then took a few hasty steps backwards as the cool water washed over her toes.
"Maximus?" she asked tentatively even though the surf drowned out her words.
Frantically, she moved forward again, her hand shading her eyes.
Suddenly he surfaced, far out where the water was calmer, and started swimming with strong strokes back to shore, allowing the momentum of the waves to carry him as he approached the beach. He stood up and raked back his dripping hair then rubbed the salt water from his eyes. Catching site of Julia in the surf up to her ankles he grinned again. "I'm glad you changed your mind," he said as he scooped her up in his arms and headed into the water.
Startled, Julia gasped and grasped his neck with both arms.
"You don't have to strangle me. I'm not going to let you go."
"I don't want to get my face wet," she said breathlessly.
"Alright, I won't go out that far." Maximus waded into the crashing surf to his waist sending water splashing to his chest.
Julia laid her head on Maximus' shoulder and turned her face into his neck.
She shivered.
"Cold?"
"No." It was the truth. It was not the water that made her shiver.
Silently, Maximus walked with her a long while taking the full force of the waves so she felt only the slight rocking motion of his body.
Julia trailed her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. Now he shivered. She did it again. He headed for the beach.
He dropped her feet to the sand but she refused to relinquish his neck, pressing her wet body against his. "Julia...," he warned.
"What? she murmured against his neck. She kissed the soft skin just under his ear then licked that salty spot.
Suddenly, he grabbed her wrists and pulled them forcefully from his neck, then quickly headed for the water again where he waded out to his waist before ducking underneath. It was quite awhile before he came out to find her stretched on the sand in the shade -- a definite twinkle in her eye and spots of moisture still clinging to her legs. "Cooler now?" she asked innocently but her eyes deliberately strayed to his groin.
"Considerably, thank you." Maximus reached out his hand to her. "Come...we're going back to the house."
Julia didn't move. "Why?"
Maximus looked up and down the beach. "Because there is no one here."
"Of course there isn't. I own this beach. That's why I love it. There is never anyone here." She patted the sand beside her. "Why don’t you sit down and relax? Besides, we still have this picnic lunch to eat."
He glanced up the beach again before he reluctantly did so, keeping a good arm's length away from her.
She looked at him coyly from beneath her lashes. "Maximus... are you shy?"
"No, just... sensible."
"A sensible soldier," she teased him. "Do soldiers have lessons in how to be sensible?"
He knew he was being teased but was unsure how to respond, so he stared at the water, his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them.
"Oh, Maximus," said Julia as she shifted to kneel behind him and placed her chin on his damp shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ravish you." She longed to kiss his neck again but restrained herself. It was obviously still too soon to nudge him in the direction of intimacy and Julia wondered if he'd ever allow himself to be ready. She ran her hand up his left arm and paused when her fingers detected puckered skin on his shoulder. She twisted her head so she could examine it. Maximus didn't move. "What's this?" she asked as her fingers traced the two long welts.
"Scars."
"Yes, I can see that," she said gently as she sensed he was becoming uncommunicative again. "How did you get them? Battle wounds?"
"Sort of."
"Maximus... please don’t shut me out."
He sighed then swiveled his head so that his bearded cheek almost touched her lips. "The bottom one is what is left of my SPQR tattoo that identified me as a soldier of Rome. I cut it out with a sharp stone soon after I woke up and found myself a slave."
Julia shuddered then regarded him with a puzzled frown.
"The top one is the remains of a sword injury I received while escaping my praetorian executioners. It became badly infected on my journey to Spain and the fever almost killed me. Maggots cleaned it (Julia shuddered again) then Juba kept me alive. At the time I wasn't very grateful but I am now."
"Maximus," Julia prompted gently, "please tell me what happened."
He turned to face the sea again and started talking in an emotionless monotone. "I was summoned from my bed one night in Germania soon after the last battle. Quintus told me that the emperor wanted to see me. It concerned me that Marcus would need me in the middle of the night so I hurried to his tent, only to be confronted by a tearful Commodus. Marcus was dead.
Strangled."
Julia gasped.
"Commodus then offered me his hand and asked me to pledge my loyalty to him as the new emperor. I refused and went back to my tent to get dressed and summon senators who were visiting -- a fatal mistake as it turned out.
Quintus and a number of guards arrived and arrested me and told me that Commodus had ordered me executed and my family killed."
"Why, Maximus? Did he think that you murdered his father?"
Maximus laughed harshly. "Hardly. The emperor had been murdered alright but Commodus was the one who did it. I thought that Lucilla might have been involved too but I'm not so sure of that now."
Julia digested that information. "So... he ordered your execution because you guessed that he had murdered his father? There are many people who believe that he might have murdered the emperor, Maximus -- not just you."
"I was a threat to him because I refused my allegiance and I had the full weight of the army behind me. I could have been very dangerous to his rather tentative hold on the crown." Maximus pulled Julia's arms from his shoulders then pivoted in the sand to face her. He clasped her wrists and pulled her face very close to his then dropped his voice to a rumbling whisper. "I haven't told anyone this and you mustn't repeat it to anyone for any reason.
Do you understand? For any reason. Promise me?"
Julia nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her face pale and her legs trembling.
"I suspect that Commodus murdered his father after Marcus told him that he would not be the next emperor."
Julia was perplexed. "Maximus, it's not surprising that Marcus Aurelius would not choose Commodus as his heir."
"No, but what is surprising is who he did choose."
"Who?"
His fingers gently caressed her wrists and he drew a deep breath then expelled it slowly. "Me."
Julia's jaw dropped and she sputtered for words.
Maximus added urgently, "It isn't something that I wanted to do, Julia, but Marcus was so insistent that I couldn't disappoint him. He wanted to ensure that Rome returned to a republic again and he thought that I was the man who could accomplish that. I initially refused then asked for time to think about it... then I returned to his tent before sunset with my consent. How could I have refused him? We signed contracts. After I left, Marcus either broke that news to Commodus or he found the contract. He probably guessed that no one else likely knew and realized that if he killed his father and then killed me, no one would ever know." He released Julia's wrists and slid his large hands up her arms. "But I didn't die."
Julia clasped Maximus' shoulders for support, her mind roiling with the implications of what she had just heard. "But why did he order your family killed?"
"As an example to any other military leader who might dare defy him. And... to make sure that no son of mine could ever grow up to avenge my death."
Maximus looked into Julia's deep blue eyes. "Do you see what I mean when I say that my life is still very complicated?"
She nodded. "And now he can't kill you because the people of Rome love you so much." Julia traced her fingers down the side of his face. "They love Maximus the gladiator and they're not even aware that he should be their rightful emperor." She ran her fingers through his short beard. "Another reason to kill Commodus -- to avenge the death of the emperor. You have many reasons."
He nodded.
"Maximus... how did he kill Olivia and Marcus?"
His eyes clouded then dropped. "He ordered them burned alive and crucified."
Nausea welled in her gut and she clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut.
"Another example of the man's cruelty. My boy was totally innocent but he's dead because I was foolish enough not to take Commodus' hand and pledge my support."
His words of self-loathing quickly dispelled the nausea and she clasped the sides of his face to force him to look at her. "You couldn't have done that, knowing what you knew."
"Yes, I could have and I should have. I could have pledged my support then acted against him from the inside. Instead, I reacted with my heart not my mind and my wife and son paid for my mistake. I am as responsible for their deaths as Commodus."
"No--"
"Yes, I am."Julia leaped to her feet. "Alright Maximus, you're not perfect. The great general isn't flawless. You deserve to die just because you're human like the rest of us? You deserve to die because you have a heart? Because you reacted with your emotions?"
Maximus glared up at her. "A general can't react with his emotions."
"A general who's a man can. And men can make mistakes. Even costly ones. But you don't deserve to die for being human. Do you understand me?" Julia dropped to her knees again and grasped his chin this time. "Did your wife love the general or the man? Do I love the general or the man?"
Her words startled him. "I don't know," he rasped. His eyes watered and he tried to push her away but she held fast, sitting on his knees to hold him down. She knew that he could toss her off with ease but he didn't. She pulled his hands down when it appeared that he might attempt to cover his face and forced him to look at her.
"Then let me make it very clear," she said. "I love the man, and I'm sure that Olivia did too. The farmer. The husband. The father." She leaned forward and brushed his lips with her own. "The slave." She sat back and looked at his flushed face. "Do you understand?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice. Finally he dropped his head and Julia dug her fingers into the soft hair at his nape. "I like your hair better when it's not oiled. Why don't you wear it like this all the time?"
Maximus sighed and talked at the sand. "It doesn't make me look mean enough."
Julia gently tugged on his hair and pulled his head up again and pretended to study him critically. "You're right. It doesn't." Then she laughed, her sudden merriment invoking a smile from him. She realized that she had been stroking his neck and that he hadn't stopped her. She brushed her lips across his again. He didn't draw away. Was she finally breaking through his defenses? Had he finally realized how much he missed and needed tenderness?
She rose up on her knees and drew him to her so that his head rested on her breast than wrapped her arms tightly around him. After a moment his arms encircled her waist and he hugged her tight and sighed again. Julia rested her cheek on top of his head and smiled. Oh yes, he was finally coming around. "I understand everything now -- everything but how you became a slave and gladiator. How did that happen?"
"I got back to Spain too late to save my wife and son so I buried them. I was very ill with a fever and quite weak so I lay down on the graves hoping to die with them." Julia held him tighter. "When I woke up much later I found myself in a cart surrounded by strange people -- nomads who collect animals and humans to sell to the gladiator schools. Juba was there and he had already started to tend my wound, which is why I even woke up at all. I was too weak to talk or protest and I didn't really come around until we were loaded into the hold of a ship bound for the African continent and Zucchabar."
"Oh, Maximus... the hold of a ship." She remembered her threat to him. "I'm so sorry I threatened to throw you in the hold of my ship."
"It's alright. We were chained up in a market -- I was too weak to even stand -- and we were poked and prodded by potential masters. That's where Proximo purchased me, and Juba too, as well as a half-dozen others. He paid more for the animals than he did for us. We were loaded into a slave wagon and taken to his school to be trained. That's where I met Haken. He's a huge man and an experienced gladiator, a German. A prisoner of war probably. He was given the task of testing us to evaluate our fighting ability."
"He must have been surprised by you," she whispered into his hair.
"He sure was. I wouldn't fight. I was given a wooden gladius but I looked him in the eye then threw it at his feet. He whacked me hard on my injured shoulder and the pain made me light-headed. I fell but managed to get up and I faced him again. I walked towards him slowly , challenging him. This time he went for my stomach and I went down again but still managed to get up and dared him to hit me once more. I saw him raise the sword and aim at my throat and I knew that the next blow would kill me... so I stood and waited for it."
Julia froze. "You wanted to die."
Maximus nodded against her breast. "Everything I treasured had been taken from me and I couldn't live my life as a slave -- a gladiator who killed men for sport. But, once more, I didn't die."
Julia relaxed slightly and kissed his forehead.
"Proximo took us to a local arena -- a shabby structure. Most people sat on the hills surrounding the arena. We were chained together in twos -- a probable winner with a certain loser. I was shackled to Juba who was considered the likely winner in our pairing because I wouldn't fight. But I couldn't die like that... before a crowd of people who would cheer my death.
I guess my soldier's pride wouldn't let me do it. We made a formidable pair, Juba and I, and we were the only pair left standing at the end. But, I had given myself away. Proximo now knew I could fight, and that I could fight extremely well. Proximo is just a small-time gladiator owner and trainer really. Some men own literally thousands of gladiators and outfit them in armor plated with pure gold. Proximo had very few by comparison and had never owned one like me. He instantly saw a way to make big money."
He paused and Julia waited a while for his deep voice to rumble against her breast again. "Then what happened?" she prompted. "How did you get to Rome?"
"We stayed in Zucchabar for a long time and became the star attraction of the show. I was called The Spaniard and even Proximo didn't know my name. He didn't care. I was simply a man who would make him money for as long as possible then I'd die. But I learned a great deal from those fights -- I leaned that a winner is worshiped like a god and the more brutal the killing the more the people loved you. And I learned that the most-loved gladiators got the best food and the best armor -- and the most power. I took advantage of that... and I hated myself for it. And I hated the people who loved me for it." But there was no self-recrimination in his voice. Maximus' eyes were closed as he relaxed against Julia and told her his tale. "Then one day Proximo told me that Commodus planned to stage a series of games in the Colosseum in Rome to honor his father and that that's where we were heading.
He told me that he was a former gladiator himself and gave me his armor to wear -- leather, not gold. He knew he stood a good chance of making a fortune with me in Rome and hinted that I might be able to eventually win my freedom as he had. On the way there we stopped at every town that had an arena and I fought -- sometimes many times a day -- and Proximo made sure that my name became well known. So, by the time I got to Rome, people had already heard about me -- The Spaniard."
"And you knew that Commodus would be in the Colosseum."
"Yes."
"Where you could kill him," she whispered into his black curls.
"It would be my only chance. I'm skilled with a lance and I planned to launch one at him when he was sitting in his seat. I knew I'd have only once chance to kill him then I'd be struck down dead." Maximus laughed bitterly.
"But, once again, my plans didn't work out. Instead I was forced to reveal my identity to him, to Lucilla, to the man who gave the order to have me executed -- Quintus -- who was now the praetorian commander."
"I heard that Commodus was shocked to see you."
"He was. He was going to order Quintus to kill me right in the arena but the gladiators stepped forward to indicate they would defend me, and the crowd started chanting that I should live. He couldn't go against their wishes."
Julia took his bearded chin and tilted his head up. "I think I know the rest."
Sky blue eyes locked with sea blue. "I think you do."
She looked into his eyes a long while then whispered, "You're an amazing man Maximus Decimus Meridius." And she kissed him, a long slow kiss that was more tender than passionate, more gentle than arousing, more searching than feverish. And he kissed her back.
"Julia where are you?" a voice yelled from the other side of the bushes. The couple broke apart with a jolt and Julia's hand rushed to her heart.
Apollinarius emerged from the shrubbery. "Please forgive me but the guards are demanding to see you, General. It seems they're not convinced that you're still here and they're kicking up quite a fuss. I'm sorry, but we need to get you shackled again for a short time. Please forgive me." He picked up the untouched picnic basket.
Wordlessly, Maximus rose then helped Julia up before he bent to brush the sand clinging to his calves. He picked up a towel and shook it viciously, flinging sand into the air. With a worried glance at Maximus, Julia reached for his hand but he pulled his sway. Apollinarius saw her eyes fill with tears as she preceded him towards the path to the villa. Maximus trailed behind them, his head down, his arms rigid at his sides -- totally withdrawn into himself again.
Chapter 27 - The Prison
Glaucus ran his hand over his lower face feeling the unfamiliar nakedness and the cleft in his chin that he was told he had inherited from his father, then flicked the drops of sweat into the water before pushing the wet curls off his forehead and leaning back against the side of the pool, almost lost in the steam that rose like wraiths around his body. He knew that Marius was nearby but could barely see him and, at this point didn't care -- he was so relaxed.
"I told you you'd like it here. Not only is it a great place to hide until we are certain we weren't followed, it's simply a great place to relax... and you need to relax." Marius opened one eye and peered through the steam. "So... are you relaxed?""Mmmm."
Marius smiled contentedly. "I thought so.The two had separated from their giggling companions as they had approached the porticos of the Baths of Trajan and ripped off their disguises as they entered a side entrance lest they be barred from the men's pools. They had stashed the wigs and stolas into a locker in the dressing room before heading past the Frigidarium to the Tepidarium with its warm pools and showers and finally into the steamy Calidarium with its hot baths and sweating room.
"Don't fall asleep," Marius warned Glaucus. "You can do that when you submit to the talented hands of the trainers who will rub every worry from your well-oiled body.""That'll have to wait. I don't have time for that today." Glaucus' body felt weightless and he could almost imagine that he was floating on the waves of steamy heat that swirled around him.
"That's up to you but you don't know what you are missing... not to mention the gardens and libraries...""This place is amazing, Marius, truly amazing, but it'll have to wait 'til some other time. I'm going to have a hard enough time summoning my ambition as it is." As if to belie his words, Glaucus suddenly stood up, water pouring from his naked body and he stepped out of the pool.
"Wha--?" exclaimed Marius. "You can't wait a few minutes longer?" He reluctantly exited the pool himself and wrapped a towel around his lower torso as Glaucus had. He was glad that the steam obscured their bodies because Glaucus made him feel like a ten-year-old boy -- a skinny ten-year-old boy at that. It was pretty clear by the width of the Spaniard's shoulders and his bulging biceps that Glaucus had inherited his father's strength. He had attracted more than a few stares of envy as he had padded across the mosaic floors clad in nothing more than a towel.Marius caught up with Glaucus and matched his stride, a willow beside an oak. Marius decided he'd rather be an oak. Women liked oaks. "So... where to now?"
Glaucus glanced at him with some impatience before entering the dressing room. Polished mirrors revealed two men with wildly curling hair and moist bodies. After quickly rubbing himself down Glaucus tossed the towel aside and pulled his black tunic over his head."You know, Glaucus, I've been thinking about your clothing. If you wore something other than black you might be less easy to follow. Why don't you try white, or even brown?"
"I wear black for a reason--""I know that," said Marius as he watched Glaucus fasten the scabbard around his hip. "And that's another thing... that sword... a dead giveaway as well."
Glaucus sighed in exasperation. "Marius, if I wanted to be nagged I'd get a wife."Marius raised his hands in supplication. "Alright, alright. Have it your way. I'm just trying to make things safer for you." His last words were lost because Glaucus was already out the door. Marius scurried to catch up.
"Which way?" asked Glaucus.Marius pointed to the north-west entrance and said, "We must take Clivis Argentarius back outside the Servian Wall. It's not far after that."
Glaucus turned on his heel and was gone, and Marius hurried after him again.The Spaniard's steps slowed, though, when he turned onto Vicus Pallacinae and was confronted by a massive and imposing brown brick compound. Soaring walls protected equally remote buildings designed for function without so much as a passing nod for beauty.
Marius grabbed his elbow. "You're walking right into the lion's den, Glaucus. Why don't you let me do it? This is probably where your praetorian guards live when they are not following you."Glaucus stubbornly shook his head. "If they had wanted to imprison me they could have left me at Vindobona. You don't have to come with me."
Marius bristled. "Don't imply that I'm a coward, Glaucus."Glaucus softened his tone. "It has nothing to do with cowardice, Marius, just prudence. No one knows that you're helping me yet. There's still time for you turn back." Glaucus fervently hoped that he wouldn't.
Marius appeared to consider his options carefully, one eyebrow cocked while he stroked his chin. "It would certainly be the smart thing to do, but I'm tired of doing the smart thing all the time. I grew up always doing the smart thing. Let's go," he said, and he was pleased when Glaucus didn't try to hide his relief. They started to walk again slowly, moving to the side of the street to allow a cohort of praetorians to pass. The black-clad soldiers didn't glance twice at the two men."Which building is the prison?"
"You can't see it yet. It's just to the left, I believe, inside the main gate."The two praetorians on either side of the gate snapped to attention, their lances crossing in front of the solid wooden door. "What business do you have here?" demanded one.
"I have come to examine the prison records. I am looking for a man who may have been imprisoned here," replied Glaucus in a firm voice.One guard nodded curtly and the door slowly groaned open. The two civilians stepped through only to find themselves confronted by another wall, this one much thicker than the last and patrolled by at least a dozen heavily-armed guards. They were trapped between the two gates, clearly at the mercy of the guards on the second wall.
Marius flinched as Glaucus commanded, "Let us pass! We have business here!"Black, helmet-shielded eyes flickered over Glaucus then widened suddenly in recognition. He spoke to a guard on his left who hastened away.
"They recognized you," said Marius under his breath.Glaucus said nothing and continued to stare hard at the guards on the wall. "Well?" he demanded. "Will you allow us to enter?"
All eleven remaining guards had gathered now to appraise him. Glaucus boldly held their gaze, knowing that the gate would not open until the absent guard had delivered his message to whomever was in charge. Sweat trickled down his sides and he longed for the relief of the cold pool at the Trajan Bath.Suddenly the great gate yielded it's defenses and Glaucus glanced at Marius before he led the way. He looked to the left as he entered and almost barged into the tall praetorian who stood directly in front of him. Startled, Glaucus stepped back and trod onto Marius' toes.
Plautianus. A grinning Plautianus blocked his way."Well, well, to what do the emperor's guards owe the honor of this visit, Glaucus?" The grin disappeared and was replaced with a sneer. "I thought you were on your way east but it appears that you did not take the emperor's advice. You seem to have a penchant for prisons. Disarm him," he commanded two praetorians and Glaucus was quickly stripped of his sword.
"I expect to get that back," Glaucus said boldly. He had become so accustomed to it that he felt quite vulnerable without it's comforting weight.Plautianus held it up for examination. "Very nice. I didn't see this with you in Germania. Where did you get it?"
"You mean you don't know? Have your spies been keeping you so ill informed?"Plautianus laughed. "You seek to annoy me with your insolence... a very dangerous thing to do when you consider that you are standing inside the main headquarters of the praetorian guards. There are over five thousand of us here and just you... and--?" he raised his eyebrows in Marius' direction.
"He's a friend," replied Glaucus quickly."Does your friend have a name?"
"It is of no importance--," started Glaucus before he was interrupted.The tall, slender man stepped forward. "Marius. My name is Marius Vipsanius Agrippa, son of Marius Vipsanius Aemilianus, governor of Cappadocia."
Plautianus folded his arms, raised his eyebrows and looked from one man to the other. "Well, well, I'm impressed, Glaucus. Only a few days in Rome and you have already made friends with an influential man. Of course, you must remember that the man's influence is with his father... and the father's influence is with the emperor." The praetorian grinned again. "So, maybe he's not so influential after all... as far as you are concerned."Glaucus ignored his attempt to intimidate. "I have come to examine prison records to see if my father was ever an inmate here."
"He wasn't," Plautianus replied abruptly."I...," Glaucus was taken aback, "I would like to check for myself."
Plautianus' hand moved slowly towards the hilt of his sword. "Are you calling me a liar?"Marius looked anxiously at Glaucus. This was not going well.
"Have you examined the records yourself, then?" Maximus' son asked."I have no need to."
"Then... if you know he wasn't here without looking at the records... does that mean you know what happened to him?"Plautianus appeared to consider the young man's words carefully, then a slow smile twisted his lips but did not warm his cold eyes. "Alright, be my guest. I'll show you the records myself." He whirled, his black cape swirling behind him, as he headed deeper into the compound. Glaucus was right behind him with Marius on his heel. Four armed guards brought up the rear. Light dimmed with every hollow echo of their combined footsteps.
They halted at a thick wooden door heavily reinforced with iron bars. Plautianus nodded to a guard who hastily produced a large key which he inserted into the lock. "Prepare yourself," Plautianus warned Glaucus as the door slowly creaked open.
Momentarily confused, Glaucus just stared at the meager yellow light slowly revealed by the widening opening but he quickly drew his cloak over his nose and mouth as the stench hit him. He coughed. Behind him he heard Marius gag.As if he were used to such a foul smell, Plautianus merely set his face grimly and shouldered his way inside. The room was small and cave-like, its foul air surprisingly dank as if the space were underground. A thin old guard stood at attention, his rheumy eyes registering surprise in the flickering light of a single lantern perched on a small wooden table. Behind him, a cabinet stood against a wall, it's doors also heavily barred. A round, metal lid punctuated the middle of the stone floor and the foul odors seemed to be emanating from whatever was underneath. Glaucus remembered what Marius had said about the prison being underground and shuddered.
"Get the books," Plautianus ordered and the man snapped to attention, his deeply-veined hand quivering as he fumbled with the key to the cabinet. The chains fell away to reveal hundreds of bound books. "The last twenty years," Plautianus instructed and the guard readily removed a volume so heavy it looked like it would snap his frail wrists. It fell with a dusty thud onto the table top causing the light from the jiggled lantern to careen crazily on the walls."Who're we looking for, sir?" The old guard's voice was dry and thin as he opened the record book.
"General Maximus Decimus Meridius," Plautianus snapped.The old guard's eyes shifted to Glaucus -- who slowly lowered his cape -- then widened in recognition. Glaucus' heart sank. There was only one reason why this guard would recognize him.
"He... he was never here, sir. I know these records by heart. He was never here."Plautianus turned upon Glaucus with smugness. "There, do you believe him? He's been the guardian of these books since well before your father's day."
"I want--," Glaucus started.Plautianus had lost his patience. "Do you not smell that odor?"
Glaucus didn't reply. Of course he smelled the odor."Do you know the source of that smell?"
Glaucus could guess."Bodies. Diseased, decaying bodies... some freshly dead, some long dead... some soon to be dead. No one lives down there beyond a few months at most. Even if your father had been here, he certainly isn't now."
Glaucus was stubbornly silent."What? You still don't believe me?" Plautianus snarled. He glared at the old guard and snapped an order. "Open the cell."
The elderly man unlocked the door then grasped the iron handle, and with surprising strength, dragged the heavy door aside. The foul odor turned utterly putrid but Glaucus refused to cover his nose -- his watering eyes the only clue to his discomfort. With a withering look at Plautianus he approached the hole, ignoring Marius who clutched at his tunic trying to hold him back.A sound... the small, mewling sound increased in intensity as he slowly approached. Suddenly a hoarse cry rent the air and a babbling pleading strain emerged from the hole, as frightening as the overwhelming stench of death. It was pitch black in the pit of death and the pitiful sounds were the only indication of life. Suddenly, blackened, bony fingers clutched at the edge of the opening and Plautianus moved swiftly to stomp on them with his boot heel, the screams of the man attached to the fingers reverberating throughout the room as he dropped back into the pit.
"There? Have you seen enough now?" the praetorian commander demanded, but he didn't wait for an answer before he ordered the guard to replace the lid again.The task complete, the old man straightened slowly, brushing against Glaucus and he whispered, "He was a prisoner... but not here."
Glaucus' heart lurched, the sudden pounding in his ears almost obliterating all other sound."Are you satisfied?" Plautianus demanded.
Glaucus slowly nodded and forcefully kept his eyes off the ancient guard until Plautianus turned to leave, then he grabbed the guard's sleeve. "Where?" he asked urgently.Rheumy eyes stared fearfully at his commander's back and he shook his head.
"Where?" hissed Glaucus. "In Rome? Somewhere in Rome?"The man's nod was almost imperceptible in the dim light.
"Well?" Plautianus demanded as he stood by the door.With a glance at Marius, Glaucus preceded the praetorian commander out the door, a wave of sweet air washing over him, flushing away the stench that permeated every pore. His mind in turmoil, he barely remembered fastening his sword, leaving the compound, or Plautianus' last caustic remark. His father had indeed been taken prisoner... he had not died in Germania or in Spain. He had been in Rome.
Glaucus drew in a huge breath of fresh air as he looked over the rooftops of the magnificent buildings towards the palace that dominated the city's skyline. Flags were flying that had not been there yesterday. He was sure they hadn't. "He was here, Marius. My father was in Rome... a prisoner. The old guard told me."Marius was skeptical. "Glaucus, a man of your father's importance would only have been imprisoned there... nowhere else. He's probably lying."
"He has no reason to lie."Marius matched strides with his friend as they entered the old city of Rome again. "So... now what?"
"We search more. At least I know I'm in the right place." He raised his eyes to the palace again.As if reading his mind, Marius said, "Severus is back. The emperor has finally returned to Rome."
Chapter 28 - Questions
"Glaucus, I'm telling you... if your father had been a prisoner in Rome, it would have been in that prison. How do you know that old guard is even sane?
I wouldn't be if I had been in that terrible place as long as he has."
"I believe him. He didn't have to risk his life to tell me that," said Glaucus, talking around a mouthful of roasted beef as he and Marius sat outside a tavern in the deep shade of the Flavian Amphitheater facing the Temple of Venus and Rome, and the Colossus of Nero. Cheers drifted to their ears in waves, swelling and ebbing like the surf. Just beyond their table throngs of people hurried about their business, their class distinguishable only by the outward trappings of clothing. Glaucus gestured with his bread to emphasize his point. "If Plautianus had caught him speaking to me he would have killed the old man on the spot. He didn't need to risk his life."
Marius leaned across the table, his low voice audible despite the din from the arena and bustling forum. "That's my point. Maybe the guard didn't risk his life. Maybe Plautianus told him to say that to you." A serving girl brushed by balancing a tray laden with food on her shoulder and he followed her swaying hips with his eyes.
Glaucus leaned forward as well, his intense green eyes refocusing Marius' attention on their conversation. "When? We arrived at the prison unannounced and Plautianus was never alone with him after we got there. And he recognized me. I saw it in his eyes. You know what that means."
"Yes," admitted Marius, "... that he must have seen your father at some time."
"He must have."
"But not at the prison."
"Apparently not." Glaucus sopped up gravy with his bread, absently swatting at a fly that attempted to share his meal. "That guard may not always have been at the prison. Maybe he was a soldier. He may have seen my father when he was General... possibly in Germania."
"But he said Maximus was a prisoner. That implies that he knew your father in that capacity... after he was a General."
His mouth stilled in mid-chew, a furrow between his brows, Glaucus considered his companion. "Marius, what other way can a man be a prisoner other than in a prison?"
Marius leaned back and adjusted his clothing around his thin frame then waved away the serving girl who was approaching with a pitcher of wine.
"Well... he could have been using the word metaphorically. You know -- implying that your father's rank as a General was being held "prisoner"... that he had been demoted."
Glaucus rolled his eyes. "I doubt it. Did that old man impress you as someone who thinks metaphorically? No, my father was literally a prisoner.
Here... in Rome... in some way."
Marius shifted in his chair to face the mouth of Via Triumphalis across the forum, beyond the forum where vendors sold everything from honeyed fruit, and other treats, to crude wooden and metal representations of gladiators.
"Then he must have been a slave. It's the only other thing I can think of."
Glaucus' eyes clouded and he stared at the multitude of nameless people in rough brown tunics who hurried by without a glance at the tavern patrons who enjoyed a leisure that they would never know. Slaves -- the backbone of the empire's economy. "Yes, I'd thought of that too." He glanced at his plate and the remains of a hearty meal of meat, vegetables, bread and wine. The scraps on his plate amounted to more than most slaves ate in a day. "But when and where was he enslaved? In Spain?"
"Most likely."
"How? By whom? Who in Spain would have betrayed him like that?"
Marius shrugged. "I don't know." He watched as Glaucus caressed the stubble on his face as his mind groped for answers.
"Most of the people I'm looking at right now are slaves, am I right?"
"I suppose."
"What keeps them here, Marius? They're not chained. Why don't they just leave... go home?"
Marius crossed his leg and absently swung his foot. "Many were born slaves, Glaucus, and have nowhere else to go. Others... well, they probably don't even know which direction home is or have the means to get there. Maybe most have accepted their fate as long as they are treated reasonably well."
"My father would never have accepted slavery. He was a leader of men. A man with a home and enough connections in the military to get him back there."
"If he had fallen out of favour with the emperor then few men would have risked helping him."
"Then he could have gotten there on his own." Glaucus said stubbornly as he ran his hand through his thick locks in frustration. A defiant curl bounced back over his forehead. "But he didn't."
Marius glanced at his friend and hesitantly said, "Possibly he was restrained... or otherwise unable."
The young Spaniard cocked his head, his eyes wary. "What do you mean?"
"Glaucus... he may have died."
The younger man pounced on those words. "But the guard saw him."
"When, though? It may have been shortly after Maximus arrived in Rome as a prisoner and he may have perished after that."
Glaucus leaped to his feet, knocking the table with his knee and Marius quickly clutched it before the remains of their meal crashed to the stones at their feet.
"I must talk to that old guard again. I need more information," exclaimed Glaucus.
"Sit down. You won't be allowed inside that prison again and it's unlikely that the old man ever leaves the place. We'll have to find out some other way --"
But Glaucus was already at the edge of the tavern about the be swallowed by the crowd when he hastily stepped back to avoid a stream of excited spectators who spilled from the arches of the arena, chatting excitedly about the events they had witnessed. He watched them momentarily then raised his eyes to the great structure that dominated the skyline of Rome and blocked the sun. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in Spain -- this magnificent oval building with arches and statues -- created purely for the entertainment of the citizens. He felt small in it's shadow. Small and deflated and empty. He had been in the city for weeks now and still had no firm answers.
Marius gently touched his elbow. "To tell you the truth, Glaucus, I've never thought much about slaves until now. They've just always been there -- invisible really."
Glaucus nodded, his lips tight. But he knew that Maximus would never have been invisible. Never.
Marius gestured to the arena with his head. "It might do you good to think about something else for a while. Care to experience the games?"
"No. I'm not in the mood." Realizing how ungracious he sounded, Glaucus added, "Some other time I'm sure I'd enjoy it Marius... just not today."
"Alright. So... what now?" Marius prodded gently.
Glaucus raked his fingers through his hair again. "I need to find the other people on my list and maybe they'll have answers to some of the questions.
Quintus is most likely still in exile but I can look for the Christian doctor... and the red-haired whore."
Marius grinned. "That sounds like a whole lot more fun than visiting prisons. What do you know about this whore?"
"Very little, other than that she was extremely beautiful... at least she was more than twenty years ago. She was owned by General Cassius then liberated when Cassius was murdered. My father ensured her freedom. It's ironic isn't it? He ensured the freedom of a whore but eventually lost his own."
"She could be anywhere in the empire. Why would she necessarily come here?"
Glaucus gestured to the throng of people who rushed by them. "To start fresh. To lose herself in the big city and forget her past. She was raised in elegant surroundings, Marius, so it's unlikely she would choose the provinces. My guess is that she's here somewhere."
"It's doubtful that she's still a whore. Not at her age."
"No, but she may still be associated with a brothel in some way, or at least still know people who are. So... the place to start looking is the brothels, don't you think?"
"I most certainly do, my friend," Marius laughed as he slapped Glaucus' shoulder. "We can start tonight. We'll begin with the best ones... and I'll introduce you to my favorite ladies. Better bring lots of money. The good ones aren't cheap but they're very discreet."
"Discreet isn't good -- I need them to talk. That's what I'll be paying for... talk. I don't have time for anything else."
Marius' eyebrows reached for the sky. "You must be kidding."
Glaucus dismissed his friend's reaction. "How many brothels are there in the city, anyway?"
"Probably thousands. A hundred or so good ones."
Glaucus returned Marius' smile. "Then we'd better get started.
The praetorian pulled the cloak up to his ears in a futile attempt to prevent the drizzle from trickling down his neck. His bones ached from the dampness that lurked in the deep shadows of the Roman night. Suddenly alert, he nudged his dozing partner and gestured to the doorway of the brothel which had suddenly opened and illuminated the narrow street with a soft golden light. Glaucus and Marius descended the step then turned to wave to a willowy, golden-haired whore who lingered at the door. Plunged suddenly into darkness by the closing door, the praetorians stepped into the cold rain and squinted into the misty blackness, searching for their quarry. Glaucus and Marius were a block away now and headed in the direction of their insula.
The relieved guards immediately anticipated their warm, dry beds but, after rounding another corner, Glaucus and Marius stopped in front of another nondescript house and rapped lightly on the door. It opened instantly and a woman's soft laugh welcomed them. The guards in the shadows stared at each other in amazement. This was the fourth brothel tonight! The soggy spies drew their cloaks around them again and settled in for a soggy wait of indeterminate length. It appeared that Maximus' boy had quite an appetite...and he liked the expensive ones.
A month later
"What's he doing?" Severus demanded as he viewed the chariot races from a golden throne's lofty perch on the palace terrace. He had expanded the rambling royal dwelling with a massive new multi-storied arched wing which provided a perfect view of the Circus Maximus where he could watch the events without having to associate in any way with the Roman rabble. But Plautianus knew the real reason for the terrace. It was important that the citizens could behold their emperor... but not too closely. Not close enough to witness the grimace of pain when he twisted his body in an unexpected manner, or to see the pillows that supported his back and cushioned his feet, or the blanket that shielded his painful joints from the mild, early autumn breeze.
Plautianus dropped with ease into the chair beside his emperor and cousin, deliberately slouching into a comfortable position that he knew Severus could no longer enjoy. He glanced at the two boys who stood at the edge of the terrace and argued over the merits of this team or that, and could barely hide his contempt. Brats, the two of them. Ten-year-old, pug-faced Lucius Septimius Bassianus had already been designated 'Imperator Destinatus', his father's heir. The foul-tempered boy's face was disfigured by an almost constant sneer, and slaves stayed clear of his well-aimed kicks and punches. His brother, Publius Septimius Geta, was younger by only a year and clearly suffered from his brother's constant physical assaults and verbal cruelty. Instead of chastising the older boy, Severus seemed to regard these characteristics as desirable in a future emperor and encouraged them by his silence. Plautianus almost felt sorry for his young daughter, Publia Fulvia Plautilla, whom he had already betrothed to the heir to the empire, thus ensuring his own long-term influence in the destiny of Rome.
"I said, 'What's he doing?'" demanded Severus impatiently.
"Still prowling brothels at night. He spends his days in the libraries with his friend."
"Libraries?" Severus pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "Do you think he's looking for the document in the libraries?"
"I don't think he's looking for the document at all."
Severus snorted. "Of course he is. He needs it to further his ambitions."
Severus concentrated on his praetorian commander, totally disinterested in the races or the cheers that wafted upwards from the excited crowd in the Circus. "Glaucus came directly to Rome, not east as I suggested. He knows... oh, he knows." Scowling, he turned his face back to the Circus and tugged the blanket higher on his legs as he shivered slightly. It wasn’t the breeze
that distressed him, though. "What might he find in the libraries pertaining to his father?"
"Not a thing. He is searching in vain." Plautianus perked up as the Green team rounded the east corner at the head of the field. He had bet heavily on the Greens and was quite pleased.
"Maybe the contract is concealed in one of the libraries and he knows it somehow."
The praetorian commander shrugged, interested only in the race.
"Maybe we should close the libraries and investigate them ourselves," Severus muttered.
Plautianus turned lazy eyes on his cousin. "And how would you justify that?"
"An emperor doesn't have to justify a thing."
"An emperor who claims to be the adopted son of the just and moral Marcus Aurelius does. Marcus Aurelius closed the arenas not the libraries."
Severus digested this information, his fingers rapping a drum-beat on the arm of the throne. He hated it when Plautianus was right. "Has Maximus' whelp been to the amphitheater yet?"
"No."
"Why not?"
The praetorian commander shrugged and yawned. "He hasn't been to the Circus either. He doesn't seem interested in the games. Just brothels and libraries."
"Well... sooner or later he will." His face creased in a scowl and it was astonishing how much his oldest son resembled him. "I would love to be there when he finds out that his 'great' father died in the sand of the Colosseum like all the other faceless scum who shed blood in that place. Oh yes, I would dearly love to see that."
Plautianus ignored him. The Greens had won and he was concerned only with collecting his winnings.
Chapter 29 - Eugenia
Glaucus waited impatiently while Marius rapped on the door of the third brothel that night and watched as his breath fogged in the damp night air. He was growing weary of prowling the brothels night after night with no success. They had exhausted Rome's ample supply of genteel brothels, occasionally lingering longer than they had planned, and they were now in the area of the city where streets were so narrow that Glaucus and Marius could barely walk side by side and where crooked tenements twisted high over their heads. It reminded Glaucus too much of Subura and he felt decidedly uncomfortable. He glanced down the street but the narrow passage gobbled the light, potentially hiding all manner of menace. His hand tightened around his father's sword and he concentrated on Marius' back as his friend knocked again on the scarred oak door guarded by the hideous erect stone phallus that identified the occupation of the inhabitants of the house. He was growing weary of his search but the great need that gnawed at his gut -- and Marius' constant good humor and encouragement -- would not allow him to discard his mission.
The door opened a crack and a dusky light warmed the dark night. "Come in dears!" a dark-haired young woman exclaimed when she saw the two attractive young men at the door and she opened it wide. She quickly assessed their dress and was pleased to find such wealthy patrons in this part of the city. They were not the usual brand of customer and she practically salivated as she calculated what treasures she could purchase with double her normal rate. Maybe she should ask triple. She stepped aside but grabbed Glaucus' arm as he passed, staking her claim.
Glaucus had become accustomed to such behavior and he muttered the oft-repeated words, "I'm looking for someone in particular." He had long since abandoned the flirty behavior that characterized his earlier visits to brothels but tried to keep the boredom and hopelessness out of his voice.
"Oh." Her grip slipped but she quickly tightened it again as other woman moved in, and she urgently added, "No one has any specialties here, sir. I can do anything you want as well as the next one." She pulled Glaucus further into the dingy atrium that smelled of stale cooking odors, positioning her body to block him from the view of the other prostitutes.
Glaucus smiled briefly. "No, that's not what I meant. I am looking for a very particular woman who used to be a whore... and still may be. She'd be in her forties now but I have a description of her only when she was a much younger woman."
"What's her name?"
"I don't know."
The other whores started to drift away. "Wait, please!" exclaimed Glaucus. "I'm willing to pay for the information. I... we'd like to speak to any woman here who might be of a similar age -- in her forties. I'll pay well."
The dark-haired whore released his arm and placed her hands on her slim hips, giving him a sidelong glance. "So... you like to play the little boy, mmm? Like to be spanked maybe--?"
"I assure you--" Glaucus sputtered and flushed, and Marius smothered a grin.
"Oh, you don't have to explain. You're not the only man who likes the older women and a bit of rough play." She turned to Marius. "What about you, then?"
"I'm with him," he replied, his face a mask of mock seriousness.
"A twosome? Well, you'll have to pay double despite having only one woman," she warned, then she cupped her mouth and shouted down the dingy hallway, "Eugenia!" She turned her attention back to the two young men. "She doesn’t do work anymore -- she mostly runs things around here -- but she's got lots of experience. You won't be disappointed." She jerked her head towards a bright blue door off the small atrium. "Wait in there. She'll be with you soon." With that she dismissed them from her mind and returned to the entrance to await more agreeable customers.
Marius twisted the knob and entered the dimly-lit room. The walls were blue like the door and a large wooden slab bed with rumpled blankets dominated the small space. The only other furniture was a couch with high padded arms that Glaucus knew could be employed in many sexual games. "Have you noticed that the further we get from the Palatine that the less, umm -- elegant -- the ladies are?" Glaucus commented.
"Less tidy, too," said Marius as he observed the stains on the couch. Both men elected to stand as they awaited 'Eugenia'.
As Glaucus' eyes adjusted to the dull light he discerned colored shapes on the wall behind the bed. He stepped closer, squinting, and the form of an almost-naked woman emerged from the shapes, coupled with two men, front and back. He glanced over his shoulder at Marius and raised a brow. "So this is what she thinks we want to do with Eugenia?"
Marius used his best leer. "I think she feels we are in the need of a bit of discipline," and he jerked his head towards another wall where a chipped painting revealed an unclothed man of indeterminate age upended over the couch receiving a sound thrashing from a near-naked woman behind him. The 'victim's' face was positively rapturous. "A little blatant," Marius muttered then he shifted his attention back to the door and added, "I wonder what's keeping--." His words were cut short by the door slamming against the wall with a thunderous clap, spilling light over their feet. A tall woman stood there, her hands planted firmly on her hips, her legs spread wide in a authoritative stance.
"Oh... here are my naughty boys. I've been looking all over for you." She clicked her tongue. "You've both been very bad... haven't you?" The whore sauntered towards them with practiced charm, her face obscured by the brighter light behind her."
Marius stepped backwards but Glaucus stood his ground. "I assure you, domina, that we are not here for the reasons you have been told. We seek information. Nothing more."
"Oh, you don't need to be embarrassed with me," she said as coyly as her assertive figure would allow.
"No. No... I assure you. We want nothing more than information. And we will pay well if you can provide it."
His words seemed to momentarily confuse her. "Information? I thought--"
"No, domina. We wish no sexual favors... but you will be handsomely compensated for your time."
Her shoulders immediately sagged and her body softened revealing her matronly age. "Oh dear, oh dear," she murmured, clearly flustered. "Look at this room. You just can't get reliable employees these days." She yanked the sheets off the bed and tossed them into a corner then bustled by the men to smooth the seat of the couch before patting it. "Sit down, sit down gentlemen. I'm sorry for any misunderstanding. Please... sit."
Glaucus eyed the stained sofa with distaste but didn't want to offend the woman. He sat on the edge of the seat leaving plenty of room for Marius. When his friend seemed disinclined to join him Glaucus grabbed his toga from behind and pulled him down.
"Ohhh... you've been here before," the woman scolded Glaucus playfully as she wagged a finger at him. "I recognize you."
"I assure you that I have not, domina."
She pulled an unnoticed chair from the corner and sat down facing them, and for the first time Glaucus saw her clearly. He estimated her age to be at least double his, if not more. It was obvious that she had once been a very attractive woman but time had taken its toll. Her tall figure was soft around the middle and her heavy breasts drooped under her white stola. Her dark hair was liberally streaked with gray and heavy lines pulled at the corners of her startling green eyes and full mouth. Those eyes were full of uncertainty. "Well... I've seen you somewhere before."
"Around Rome, perhaps -- maybe the libraries?" Glaucus tried to control a rising excitement that might prove to be meaningless.
She laughed. "Ladies in our profession don't visit the libraries, I'm afraid." She leaned forward and squinted at him. Suddenly she gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my. Oh my." Her face drained as she rose and approached him, her hand reaching out to tentatively brush his upturned face. "The gods be blessed," she whispered. "You are his son."
Two jaws dropped in unison.
"Who? Whose son?" breathed Glaucus. His fingers knotted in his black robe to control their trembling.
"General Maximus. You are his image." Eugenia sank back into the chair and stared at him.
Glaucus barely dared breath. "How do you know my father?"
"Many, many years ago I was in a camp near the Black Sea when General Maximus arrived to put down a plot by General Cassius to take the throne from Marcus Aurelius."
Glaucus was too overwhelmed to speak. Had he found his father's whore? Could he have found her at last?
Sensing his friend's emotional turmoil, Marius picked up the conversation, trying to remember everything that Glaucus had told him about this mysterious woman. She had been beautiful... the woman before them had obviously once been beautiful. She had had red-gold hair... but this woman's hair had clearly been very dark. It was not unheard of, though, for women to wear wigs or even to dye their hair exotic colors. "You helped General Maximus defeat Cassius' plot?" Marius asked warily.
Eugenia perked up immediately. "Oh yes, oh yes I did! I did indeed! I helped him and Julia in any way I could." A smile filled with memories settled over her fine features. "Oh, he was a handsome man, your father. We were all so jealous of Julia--"
"Julia?" Glaucus interrupted. "Who is Julia?"
"Oh, she was the General's lover while he was at our camp." Eugenia snorted. "Lucky girl."
Words struggled to escape Glaucus' lips. Lover? Julia? "Describe Julia," he finally demanded.
"Well, let me see." Eugenia cocked her head. "She was just about the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. We were all lovely -- in those days -- but Julia was special. Cassius' favorite. She was tall and slim with beautiful blue eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day, and she had long rippling hair that every woman who saw her envied. It was golden-red. Just like a sunset."
Glaucus closed his eyes. Julia. Her name was Julia -- but he still hadn't found her. "Where is Julia now?" he whispered.
"I don't know, dear. I haven't seen her in years."
Glaucus heart fell. He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, massaging the sudden headache that pierced his temples.
Julia.
Julia. Julia. Julia.
Marius placed a steadying hand on his friend's back and he addressed Eugenia with an encouraging smile. "We have been looking for Julia for months but didn't know her name. We didn't even know that she was in Rome for sure, so you have been a great help to us. Is there anything else you can tell us about her? Her full name, for instance?"
"She was a whore just like me... and whores don't have full names. She was simply 'Julia.'" She shook her head sadly and regarded Glaucus' tortured posture. "She was in love with General Maximus, poor girl, but he was married and he spent only a short time with her. I doubt if she ever got over him, though."
"Where did you last see her, and when?" prompted Marius when Eugenia seemed inclined to lose herself in memories again.
"Oh, it must have been over ten years ago now."
Glaucus' shoulders sagged.
"At the Trajan Market," Eugenia continued. "She was looking at fine wools, I believe. But I only saw her from a distance and she didn't see me. By the time I worked my way through the crowds she was gone."
"You haven't seen her since?" Marius asked.
"No... no Julia didn't bother to keep in touch with the rest of us after we arrived in Rome. She was a nice girl but she always kept herself apart from the other whores." Eugenia said the word 'whore' with no apology and no shame. "She was Cassius' favorite and always seemed to feel like she was a bit above the others." Eugenia shrugged. "But, if I had been her I probably would have too."
"Can you tell us anything about her at all?" Marius prompted. "Any rumors that you may have heard?"
"Well... I do see some of the other girls once in a while. You know... at the markets... and Aelia heard from Honora that she had married real well. Real well if you get my meaning. I don't know where Honora heard it." For the first time a look of curiosity crossed Eugenia's face and she asked, "But why are you looking for Julia? Is the General trying to find her again?" She giggled -- a girlish sound despite her years. "You know, I always thought that he was more than just a little fond of her. Kept her all to himself after the two of them killed Cassius."
Glaucus' head whipped up.
Eugenia cringed as if she had been slapped. "Oh, oh my. I'm so sorry," she stuttered. "Marcus -- that's your name isn't it? You needn't think anything of it. After all, your father returned to your mother and left Julia behind when he could have kept her if he'd wanted to."
"My name isn't Marcus," Glaucus rasped. "And my father disappeared years ago. The only reason I'm trying to find Julia is to find out what happened to him."
"Oh my, oh my," Eugenia repeated, unsure of what to say next. But then her whore's training rescued her and she stood, extending her hand towards the door. "Why don't we go to my apartment? My manners are terrible to leave you gentlemen sitting in here. I'll provide refreshments and tell you everything I know."
Chapter 30 - The Guards, A.D. 180
At his insistence, Maximus was shackled to a chair in Apollinarius' apartment, not Julia's. The guards assumed that Maximus had been rented by the white-haired man and Maximus was determined to still lead them to believe that. He didn't want them to even see Julia much less understand the true nature of his visit to the villa. He set his jaw and refused to listen to any argument, and now sat rigid and taciturn as Julia and Apollinarius tried to arrange the broken iron cuff and chain to make them look like they were still secure.
"Keep your hand by the side of the chair, Maximus, where they can't see it well," Julia whispered.
His only indication of agreement was a flick of his eyelashes.
She then scurried into Apollinarius' bedroom but left the door ajar and peeked back into the room. The older man smoothed his toga, took a deep breath, then opened the apartment door to the guards who were waiting impatiently on the other side. "There, gentlemen," said Apollinarius, "you can see that he's here safe and sound as I said he was." Two burly guards craned their necks to see the gladiator.
Maximus stared at the floor.
"Well, so he is," the first guard laughed and winked at his partner. "Surprised to see he's sittin' down, though." The guard then poked Apollinarius with a crooked finger and leered. "Maybe you're not usin' him hard enough." He laughed with hilarity at his own wittiness.
The older man was speechless at the crudeness of the comment.
Peering through the crack in the door, Julia saw a muscle in Maximus' cheek bulge as he clenched his jaw. His shoulders hunched as his back stiffened but he continued to stare at the carpet in silence.
"He's not giving you any trouble?" the other guard asked with exaggerated politeness as the first one stepped further into the room, still chuckling.
Apollinarius moved quickly to block him from getting closer to Maximus. "No, he's being quite co-operative, I assure you. There's no need for you to--"
The armed man sneered. "Maybe he's startin' to like it."
Ferocious blue-green eyes turned a killing glare on the guard and Julia saw Maximus' fists clench. In another moment he'd be out of that chair and the guard would be dead on the floor, sword or no sword.
"Th... there now. You've seen him and you can leave," stuttered Apollinarius who could almost feel the heat from Maximus' anger searing his back. "Go and join your friends in the servants' quarters and just relax for the remaining days. There's plenty to eat and drink. I will certainly summon you if I need help with him." Apollinarius extended his arms slightly and tried to usher the men out the door.
But the smirking guard had to make one last comment. "If he's that good maybe we can make a bit of money with him from the men down at the docks before we take him back to Rome--"
Julia moved even faster than Maximus did and the guards were so startled by her sudden appearance that they didn't notice that the gladiator was on his feet and clearly not restrained. "Maximus, sit down," she hissed as she swept past him, her swirling stola temporarily obscuring him from the guards. She stormed up to them, her face a mask of fury. "How dare you imply such things while in my presence!"
His smirk gone, the guard hastily stepped backwards. "We... we didn't know you was there m'Lady."
"I own this villa. General Maximus is here with me for the week and I won't listen to the likes of you sully his character. Is that clear?"
The guard looked from Julia to Apollinarius then back to the woman whose temper matched her fiery hair. "We thought he was bought by him," the guard gestured to Apollinarius who now stood off to the side, quite enjoying Julia's spirited defense of the man she loved. Behind her, Maximus' face was unreadable.
"Well, you thought wrong," Julia spat. "This man is merely my agent as it is unseemly for a lady to negotiate for the favors of a gladiator even if it is for the finest one in all the empire. One of you will ride back to Rome with a message for Proximo. I want the gladiator to be my guest for as long as possible, not just for the week. Tell him that. I will pay well."
The second guard shook his head. "He'll want the Spaniard back as soon as the arena opens again."
Julia sighed impatiently. "Did you not hear me? I'm willing to cover the cost of whatever Maximus would win in the arena. As a matter of fact I'll double it. That is how much I am enjoying his company. Tell Proximo that. And by the way... the gladiator's name is Maximus, not Spaniard. Is that clear?"
The guard bobbed his head a few times. "Yes, m'Lady." The first guard reluctantly repeated the gesture.
Julia stalked towards them with purpose, her blue eyes shooting daggers from beneath finely arched brows. "Now, get on your way and quit wasting my time."
The guards bowed briefly to the tall, beautiful lady with flaming hair and blazing eyes then backed out the door. Apollinarius slammed it and beamed at her. "Bravo, my dear. Bravo."
Julia started to smile but flinched at the sudden sharp sound of metal hitting marble right behind her feet. Maximus had removed his wrist cuff and tossed it to the floor before he sank back into the chair. Julia whirled to find him sitting with his elbows on his wide-spread knees and his forehead in his hands.
Apollinarius quietly let himself out of the room and soundlessly closed the door to his apartment.
Julia walked to the seated man slowly, sure that his masculine pride had been sorely wounded. "Maximus, I couldn't let them think those things about you. I just couldn't."
He didn't respond.
She crouched before him. "Maximus?" she said as she determinedly pulled his hands away from his face.
Very slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. They were dull with misery. "It's amazing how the feel of iron on your wrist can jolt you back to reality," he said bitterly. "I've been in a dream world here with you. Those guards are my real life now."
Julia smoothed the curls off his forehead. "Go away with me, my love," she begged. "We still have time."
Maximus didn't acknowledge her endearment but he did touch her hair -- very gently -- his fingertips barely brushing its thick waves. "Julia, they can describe you now... to Commodus. What you did was very foolish."
Julia was amazed. It was her actions, not the guards, that had upset him? "I don't care," she stated defiantly. "Besides, you keep refusing to go away from here so what difference does it make if they know that you are here with me and what I look like?"
Maximus sighed and shook his head in frustration at her lack of understanding. His words were slow and deliberate. "You could be used as a hostage to control me. Commodus may assume -- quite correctly -- that I care for you, and use a threat to harm you to make me do things I don't want to do."
She was perplexed. "Like what?"
He caressed her hair again, his fingers lingering in the silken locks. "Like make me rig a fight so that I die in the arena... and I would agree to it if they threatened your safety. That's a way Commodus could get rid of me and make it look like I simply lost a battle."
Julia was stunned. She simply hadn't considered that possibility. "Maximus, that... that isn't likely to happen." She moved to her knees, as if begging him to agree.
"Don't underestimate Commodus. I can't be responsible for the death of another person that I care about."
She groped for words that might comfort him but said instead, "You care about me?"
A fleeting smile warmed his features. "Yes, of course," he whispered.
"How?"
His brows compressed in confusion.
Julia sat on the carpet and draped her forearms across his knees before taking his hands in hers. She looked up into his eyes. "The way you care for Lucilla?" she prompted.
"No," he answered quickly.
Julia's teeth tugged at her lower lip before she asked hopefully, "The way you cared for Olivia?"
Maximus shook his head.
"How then?"
He shrugged. "Differently."
"What does that mean?" she coaxed.
"I don't know. I just want to... protect you."
Julia smiled. "You feel fatherly towards me?"
That finally made him laugh. "No... not fatherly. Anything but fatherly." Maximus considered his next words carefully. "You're very understanding and perceptive... easy to talk to. Maybe it's because you've had such a difficult life and are very worldly for your age in some ways. You're quite different from Olivia in that respect." He glanced at the ceiling as if looking for assistance. "I'm not used to talking about such personal things... just discussing battle strategies and issuing orders. This is very different for me. And it's hard for me. Almost as hard as being in chains. I'm just not used to it."
Julia squeezed his hands. "I know. But that's what makes it very special for me -- the fact that you can tell me things that are in your heart that you can't tell anyone else. And the fact that you trust me."
Maximus nodded, a great sadness in his beautiful eyes. "Proximo will not agree to leave me here if the Colosseum is open no matter how much money you offer him. He is making a fortune from me. Commodus is sponsoring these games and he demands that I fight every day -- and he pays Proximo very well for the privilege. Commodus is doing it because the people want me and he wants to please the people... and because the more often I fight the better chance I have of being killed. Proximo wouldn't risk the wrath of Commodus by making me unavailable no matter how much you offer him."
The sudden futility of their situation descended upon Julia like a thick, cold fog and she shivered. "Oh, Maximus, we have so little time."
He nodded then shook away her hands before standing up and stepping around her to move to the window. He spoke to the sky, his voice cool and unemotional -- the voice of a general who had just made a decision. "I want to thank you for defending my honor. It was certainly difficult sitting there listening to the guards talk about me like that. But it was dangerous for you."
Julia walked up softly behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. He twisted and pulled away from her, leaving her looking at his retreating back in bewilderment. "I just need to be alone for a while... to walk," and he disappeared through the door.
