Glaucus' Story
Chapter 76 - Demands
The spacious bedroom was as quiet as a tomb, with every ear stretching toward the conversation among the trio occupying the delicate bedroom chairs.
"Why didn't you kill Plautianus?" Severus asked Glaucus, his hooded eyes concealing all emotion even though he slouched somewhat, effecting an air of casualness that every person in the room recognized as a mere mantle. It was unlikely that Emperor Septimius Severus had ever found himself in such a position of compromise -- especially one provoked by a young man with no official power -- and the emperor's numerous enemies from among the wedding guests reveled in it.
"He was incapable of waging a fair fight, Sire. It would have been murder," replied Glaucus evenly as he sat straight and attentive in his seat. He was keenly aware that the dozens of high-ranking military officials hanging onto every word were very much on his side, as was the small, elderly woman wearing pure white whose knees almost brushed his own.
Severus shrugged off the lost opportunity to rid himself of the overbearing praetorian commander who had become a major liability, but his eyes widened just enough to shoot shards of ice at Glaucus.
Glaucus shivered but quickly regained his composure and tossed off a casual comment that brought titters from the crowd. "Besides, it would be very impolite to kill the father of the bride on her wedding day." He loosened the leather cuirass and pulled it over his head, gently fingering both new and old scars it before he handed it to Marius. Lucius took advantage of the momentary lull to stoop and gather up his mother's scattered documents. He gently bundled them up in the leather again to be read at a private time later. Then the three friends gathered close behind their seated companion. Severus glared at Lucius but the young Iudex ignored him, and placed his hands on the back of Glaucus' chair, clearly indicating where his allegiance lay. Lucius hoped the warmth from his body would give his friend strength.
The throng of guests crept closer, with Marius' astonished parents peering over shoulders staring wordlessly at their son, their expressions echoing horror and confusion over his role in the evening's astonishing events. Marius decided the time was not yet right to acknowledge them and kept his eyes averted, except to search out Maxima who had regained some of her color as she stood among the vestals. He winked at her and she responded with a tremulous smile. Some wedding guests expressed their disdain for the emperor by settling into available chairs and others boldly moved to perch scandalously on the unused bridal bed, their boldness fueled by the Empire's finest wines. Still more leaned against walls and furniture, not willing to miss a word of what transpired next.
Glaucus looked for the general who had assisted him in the fight, found him leaning against a nearby cabinet, and nodded his thanks. The general bowed graciously in return.
"Now," said Caelia with the clarity and assurance of a woman accustomed to authority, "let us begin. First, I wish to know the contents of the small, hidden room over there." She nodded in the general direction of the compartment.
"I haven't searched it thoroughly, Domina," Glaucus replied, "but it contains my father's urn, and his death mask. Also, the leather cuirass and the documents that my friend, Lucius, just retrieved."
"I see. And how did they get there?"
"The Lady Lucilla -- the mother of Lucius Verus--," he nodded to Lucius and the crowd collectively gasped, "--placed them there after my father's death before she and her son were exiled. He is the only person still alive who knew they were there. I simply want to take them home with me where they belong -- to Spain."
Caelia looked at Severus and raised one neatly manicured brow. "And is that agreeable to you?"
The emperor impatiently waved his hand at such a trifling matter and stated in a bored tone, "Take them. Why in the name of Jupiter would I care."
Caelia nodded to the scribe who wrote it down and she briefly glanced at Lucius -- the grandson of her beloved cousin -- before she looked at Glaucus again with a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Next?"
"I want my father's good name restored and his rightful place in the history of the Roman Empire established as general of generals, a great man, not a slave. He was commander of the northern legions under Emperor Marcus Aurelius -- a man who loved my father well. I want it proclaimed throughout the Empire -- in the Senate, by the generals of every legion, by every governor of every province -- that my father served the Empire well, ended the strife in Germania, gave his life for the good of the Empire, and had no role whatsoever in the death of Marcus Aurelius."
Caelia looked at Severus with raised brows.
"Yes, yes, it shall be done." He leaned forward impatiently, his hands on his knees, his eyes boring into Glaucus' flesh, his teeth clenched in a barely-disguised snarl.
Glaucus felt Lucius' hand gently squeeze his shoulder and continued. "I also want his mural portrait in Germania -- at the fortress in Vindobona -- restored by Rome's best artisans so that it looks exactly as it did when my mother painted it, never to be damaged again, and I want the restoration to begin right away."
Severus just twisted his mouth into an ugly knot and nodded once. The scribe scribbled. "Anything else?" he drawled sarcastically.
"Yes. I ask that there be no retribution upon any of us," -- Glaucus twisted to look at the men standing behind him -- "or upon anyone in our families, now or in the future. We are innocent of any crime. And I want the warrant for my arrest rescinded immediately."
Severus tossed a flippant hand in the air as if all of these demands were far too trivial for his royal attention. "Consider it done. Surely you are finished."
Glaucus drew a deep breath. "No." The wedding guests chuckled at his temerity. "I want my sister to be established as the true daughter of General Maximus Decimus Meridius and take his name -- if she so desires and her legal parents so consent -- with her mother still recognized as her true and legal mother."
"A sister?" Severus spat. "Well isn't that nice." He raised both eyebrows and asked with slow deliberation, "A bastard sister?"
Glaucus bristled. So did Marius. "She is the daughter of loving parents," growled Glaucus. "A daughter who -- like her surviving brother -- never had the privilege of knowing her father."
"Why would I possibly object to that?" asked Severus with a theatrical roll of his eyes.
"There's one more thing," stated Glaucus calmly. "I want Lucius Verus to be allowed to go wherever he wants in the empire and freely live wherever he wants—"
"He can do that now!" interrupted Severus, in a fury now. "I am the one who rescued the boy from exile, who educated him and gave him a government position as is his birthright! How dare you imply otherwise!"
Lucius stepped forward in an attempt to diffuse the emperor's ire. "Of course you did, Sire, and I am forever grateful. I would like to feel more welcome in Rome, though, and to have the spies removed from my house."
Severus rose in a swirl of purple and faced the grandson of Marcus Aurelius, clasped Lucius' shoulders (his knuckles white as his fingernails dug into the young man's shoulders) then jerked him forward into a tight embrace -- a grand display of affection for his 'nephew'. "You are always welcome here, as you know. Always," he said loudly so the guests could hear, then he turned Lucius to ensure that every last one of guests witnessed the 'loving' exchange.
Lucius played the game and responded graciously, "Thank you, Sire. I would also appreciate having a bust of my grandfather to place in my house in Octodurus. I have noticed that there are none on display in the palace now so I assume there is a storage room full of them somewhere."
"There are none on display? What a terrible oversight!" exclaimed Severus. "Of course you shall have one. You may take your pick." He released Lucius with a jerk and gave him a slight shove to indicate an end to their conversation. "Now I have a demand." He turned to Glaucus and raised his brows to ask mocking permission to speak. "I assume it is my turn now?" At the young man's serious nod he continued, walking close to Caelia and bending so that his next words were only for her ears and Glaucus'. "I demand that the document in question never see the light of day. That its contents be forever sealed. Otherwise, all of your demands become immediately null and void."
Glaucus nodded his agreement and so did Caelia then she added, "The document shall be held at the temple, though, to ensure that all of the clauses of this new contract are met. If they are not -- or if they are ever revoked -- the contents shall be divulged to the senate and military leaders."
The scribe wrote it down. Then she said, "I want you both to sign this, please."
They did so.
"And I will witness it."
She did so.
Severus then turned so abruptly that his whirling cape sent his vacant chair toppling over with a clatter, then he shoved his way through the smug crowd. "We're finished here!" he snarled at his guests. "The party's over."
Chapter 77 - Maxima's Gift
Julia carefully lit twelve tapers, six on either side of the small mahogany ancestor's cupboard and gold urn which had been transported to her home. They now sat on an ornate table in the middle of the sitting room of her Rome apartment, dark now except for the flickering, warm light cast by the tiny flames. Incense burned in a small brass dish filling the room with spicy perfumes. Then she joined Glaucus and her daughter who knelt on cushions before the urn with bowed heads, each one offering silent prayers to the gods in the name of the man they all loved. The cupboard doors were closed concealing the wax mask that was so detailed and lifelike that none of them could bear to look upon it.
Each was lost in their own thoughts, their own grief, their own loss. Julia's lips moved silently and tears glistened on her pale cheeks. Without opening her eyes she reached for her daughter's hand and squeezed it gently, eliciting a stifled sob from the girl. Glaucus glanced at her and saw his sister's beautiful face pinched with pain. He wanted to reassure her that all was well, that everything had been put right, but he was too consumed with his own regret to offer her any solace. He had succeeded in all that he had strived for. He now knew everything about his father's life and death. He had re-established Maximus' honor. But he felt hollow still and he wondered if that dark, empty place inside would ever be filled. His boyish dreams of finding his father alive had forever been shattered like delicate glass smashed against stone never to be whole again. He would never see his father's face soften in a smile or hear him laugh, or revel in his look of approval at the man his son had become. Glaucus lifted the gaze to the gold urn, glowing richly in the yellow light. It was cold metal not warm flesh. Cold and silent and still just like the wax impression of Maximus' face that Glaucus had merely glimpsed before turning away in anguish. He would do what was required. He would use that mask to have an artisan recreate Maximus' features in marble. Expressionless marble.
Cold marble.
He shuddered and dropped his eyes to the carpet, it's intricate pattern blurring before his eyes. Finally, he rose and assisted Julia and Maxima to do the same, their legs wobbly from kneeling and from sorrow. Glaucus took his sister's arm and led her towards the courtyard. Julia blew out the candles then followed, softly shutting the door behind her.
Apollinarius, Brennus and Lucius awaited them in the cool evening breezes where moonlight and torches supplied all the light they needed. Lucius pressed a goblet of wine into his friend's hand and searched his eyes in concern. He knew how mourning drained you, and he hoped that Glaucus would quickly find the strength he would need to complete the final steps of his journey.
They all sat, content to reflect upon the events of the past few decades and the closure to the mysteries surrounding the death of a man they called lover or father or friend.
Julia finally broke the silence. "I hope you will allow me to have a copy of the mask made for Maxima, Glaucus. It will be important for her when she has her own family someday."
Glaucus nodded. "Of course," he said, his voice still husky.
"Thank you, Glaucus," said Julia as a servant poured more wine for all. "And I hope you will stay with us a while. I will miss you terribly when you leave."
Maxima gasped and turned to him, her eyes alarmed in her pale face. "You're leaving? I had hoped that you would stay." She was wearing a necklace of twisted strands of pure gold woven into a horseshoe-shaped rope. It was Celtic in design and Glaucus guessed that Marius must have purchased it in Octodurus during their last days in that town when he and Lucius had been preoccupied with planning the journey to Rome. Her bold acceptance of the gift was a clear signal to all that she was very serious about the young man.
Glaucus couldn't think of a better husband for his sister... and a brother-in-law for himself. But it wouldn't happen unless Julia and Apollinarius gave their consent to the legal change in her parentage -- the deletion of Apollinarius and the insertion of Maximus -- on her birth document. Glaucus had already approached them about the issue then left the couple to consider the ramifications of their decision.
Glaucus clasped his sister's fingers and raised them to his lips. "I must go to Spain. You know that. And the sooner I leave, the sooner I can return." He then turned to Julia and Apollinarius who sat side by side on a couch under a trailing grapevine. He hated to raise the topic at this time, but he needed the issue settled so he could leave. "Have you had the opportunity to reach a decision about what we discussed earlier?"
The topic was obviously on Maxima's mind as well. "Mama?" she said, tentatively. "Have you two had time to discuss the change of my name?" It sounded less hurtful to describe it in terms of a simple name change rather than a change of parentage. She loved Apollinarius dearly and was concerned about disappointing him but she desperately wanted to be known as Julia Maxima Decima Meridia Postuma, as was her right.
"We have dearest," replied Apollinarius, "and we agree that it would be a wonderful advantage to you in life to have your father's name and status. No matter how much I love you, that is the one thing I cannot give you. You will be a member of the senatorial class just like your brother." Julia smiled at him and offered him her hand and he clasped it to his heart. "Don't forget that I knew Maximus too. It is my honor to have watched his daughter grow to be a beautiful woman. Now I... we... want you to have the birthright that is truly yours."
Maxima's mouth opened and closed like a beached fish. She finally found her voice. "Thank you. Thank you both," she gasped. "And thank you, my brother, for thinking of it in such a stressful situation."
Glaucus shrugged. "In truth, I had been thinking about it for quite some time. A contract issued by the emperor is the only way I could figure to make it work so that Julia is still your legal mother and I hope that the documents can be signed within a few days. I am very anxious to return to Spain and place my father at rest. I also haven't seen my mother's relatives in years and they probably think I'm dead. I can't imagine how they will react when I arrive home with the urn, the mask, the sword, the cuirass... and quite a tale to tell. Then I must go to Germania. Hopefully, by the time I get there the portrait will have been restored. I want to tell old Jonivus what I have found. Without him to get me started, maybe none of this would have happened."
"But you'll come back," urged Maxima as she grasped his arm and shook it slightly.
Glaucus smiled tenderly. "Of course I will. It isn't that far by sea from Spain to Ostia. And you can come and see me -- all of you. I want you to see where Maximus was born and lived. And you must also go to Germania to see that portrait."
"Thank you, Glaucus. We will do that with certainty," said Julia, a feeling of great sadness overwhelming her. She had come to think of Glaucus as her own and would feel his absence terribly. "I'll supply a ship for you." She turned to Lucius who had quietly moved into the shadows with Brennus as family matters had been discussed. "And, if you would like to accompany him, the ship can transport you as far as Massilia then you can take a river boat up the Rhone for quite a distance. You'll miss the worst of the mountains that way."
"That is for certain m'lady, and I happily and gratefully accept your offer," replied Lucius with a relaxed smile. "I am anxious to see my family again too."
Apollinarius looked at all three young men. "My boys, friendships like yours lasts a lifetime. Even if you don't see each other for years, it revives the instant you are back together... as if you have never been apart."
Glaucus nodded. "And Marius too. I've never had a better friend. I shall miss him terribly." He laughed. "I'd like to be a fly on the wall at his home tonight as he explains this entire adventure to his parents." Glaucus looked at Maxima and raised one brow. "Maybe he can accompany all of you to Spain."
"Maybe," Maxima beamed as she fingered the necklace. "Maybe."
"And you, Brennus," said Glaucus turning to the young man who silently leaned against a low stone wall. "Your presence and your friendship have been invaluable." Even in the dim light Glaucus could see him blush with pleasure. "If you think you can spare him, Julia, I could certainly use another hand at the farm."
Brennus started in surprise then he looked at Julia with puppy eyes.
"When we return to Ostia in a few days we will ask your mother's permission," smiled Julia. "If she says 'yes' then I certainly approve."
Four days later, Glaucus stood on the deck of the ship which had been specially outfitted to hold a skittish stallion safely. The urn and ancestor's cupboard had been crated and carefully stowed in the hold along with an equally secured statue of Emperor Marcus Aurelius. It was one of Julia's largest ships so Glaucus and Lucius shared a small cabin and only Brennus slept in a tent on deck. Glaucus' departure was bitter-sweet for sure. He was anxious to return home but he loathed leaving Maxima, Julia and Marius, even if only for a few months. The past few days at Julia's villa in Ostia had been very emotional with one or more of them in tears at any given time, and he had certainly not been immune to the emotion. Even now, his eyes were blurred and he blinked furiously to dispel the moisture.
But, all of the business had been taken care of and there was no excuse to stay any longer. Julia, Apollinarius, Marius and Maxima lined the dock, waving a last farewell. Maxima was now officially Julia Maxima Decima Meridia Postuma and he had told her quietly that she had his permission to marry Marius but that she needed to be very certain of her feelings for him. He also told her the same thing he had told Marius -- that there would be no rushed wedding so they were to control their passion until they were all united again. She solemnly agreed and her eyes twinkled with a happiness that he had never seen before.
As the ship was pulled free of its moorings then slowly tugged in the direction of the lighthouse, Glaucus thoughts turned to their goodbyes that morning. Before they had exchanged one final hug and kiss at the villa, Maxima had pressed a lumpy, small, scuffed leather pouch into her brother's hand. "What's this?" he had asked.
"Just open it," she replied.
He dug his fingers into the small opening, spread it wide then turned it upside down and shook it. Two small wooden figurines spilled into his hand. At first he was confused, then his eyes focused on the familiar carving style of his mother. He groped for a chair to sit down before his suddenly watery knees gave way. He lifted that largest figurine to the light. It was a woman with one arm bent at the elbow and extended towards him. The forearm was broken off in a jagged splinter and the figure was cracked almost all the way through but still held together somehow. The other figure was a young boy. It was in much better condition than the woman but the wood was pitted and scarred.
"Where did you get these?" he gasped.
Maxima knelt before him and grasped his knees. "Do you think they are the ones that belonged to our father?" she asked earnestly.
"My mother carved these, I'm sure. They are just like the horses she made that I played with when I was a boy. It's the same wood even. Where did you possibly find them?"
Maxima sat back on her heels and grinned triumphantly. "At the market. When you were off hunting for Quintus and Lucius, I roamed the Trajan Market almost every day out of boredom. One man there has a little curios stand with odd little items. I saw these and wondered if they could be the ones you described to me."
"But how did he get them?"
"They've been through a few hands, and probably would have been discarded, except that there's a story attached to them. They were found in the sands of the Coliseum a few days after our father died there. They were found by a man who groomed the sand between events. He apparently kept them for a long time, and treasured them, believing them to belong to the great gladiator Maximus, but when he died his children sold them for next to nothing. They finally wound up in the hands of the man at the market and he knew the legend behind them."
"I... I wonder how they got there? He couldn't have taken them into the arena for that last fight. Quintus said he had been stripped and chained in a cell. How on earth could they have gotten there?"
Maxima shrugged. "That's something we'll probably never know."
"I never dreamed that I would ever see these." Glaucus held them up to the light and turned them over and over in his fingers while Maxima reveled in the joy in his eyes. Then he placed the smaller one in his palm and offered it to her. "You must keep the one of Marcus."
"No. They are a set. Your mother and our brother. Please... you must keep them both. They were carved by your mother's hand for our father. Please keep them together. It's what he would have wanted."
Glaucus raised them to his lips and kissed one then the other, then he smoothed his sister's shining hair and kissed her too.
Glaucus stood at the ship's rail and felt the comforting press of the two little figurines into his ribs under his toga. They were right beside a gift that Julia had given him and he treasured it too.
Julia had approached him last evening as he stood alone on her terrace overlooking the city of Ostia and its grand harbor. He turned to face her, his hair rumpled by the breeze. "I was hoping you'd join me," he said. "I have so much I want to say to you but I don't even know how to begin."
"You don't need to say a word, Glaucus, because I know what you are feeling -- a mixture of elation and contentment at having met all of your goals, and a sadness at leaving people you have come to care for, even if for only a while."
He nodded and said with sincerity, "Julia, thank you for being there for my father when no one else was. Thank you for making the end of his life a little bit easier. And thank you for giving me a sister."
Julia smiled. "It was my great honor to have known and loved your father, even if for only a short while. He was a man among men, Glaucus, and he would have been so proud of you. As a matter of fact, I'm sure that he is proud of you -- that he is well aware of what you have accomplished and is grateful that you have absolved him of the responsibility of the death of Marcus Aurelius... a man that he dearly loved."
"Thank you. I just wish... I just wish that he would have lived to have known Maxima and me, and to have loved you as you deserve."
Julia nodded slightly, her throat tight. She looked stricken suddenly, beset by a feeling of loss more powerful than anything she had known since Maximus' death -- Glaucus' departure once again reviving the long-suppressed pain.
Glaucus gazed at the sea and gave her time to compose herself. "And I can't imagine how much better the empire would be now if he had been able to accomplish the task set for him by Marcus Aurelius. And no doubt he would have."
"No doubt," Julia whispered. "But there's no point in wishing for what might have been, Glaucus. The past cannot be changed. It's the future that we must look to now and the future looks very bright."
"I know. I really can't see anything but happiness ahead for all of us."
Julia reached for his hand and pressed an object into his palm. "What's this?" he asked as he examined the small ivory oval framed in gold. "Oh... it's a picture of you."
Julia laughed. "No, it's your sister, not me. It's called a cameo."
"It's amazing... and her profile is almost identical to yours. No wonder she is so beautiful. I'll treasure it always. Thank you."
They stood side by side watching the moon break the horizon and rise over the still, silver waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea, content in each other's company and united by their love for a valiant man lost to them both.
Chapter 78 - Homecoming
Two days out to sea, the ship rounded the northern tip of Corsica and Lucius approached Glaucus who was sitting on the deck in the shade of their cabin, his knees draped comfortably over a pile of coiled ropes, totally oblivious to the activity of the busy sailors around him. He had Maximus' leather cuirass resting across his knees and his fingers trailed lightly across the silver embossing of the poplar tree and woman and child, over and over again. Lucius sat down beside his friend but said nothing.
They both listened to the wind flapping in the sails above them. Finally, Glaucus spoke. "I wonder what he felt whenever he strapped this on. I wonder if his gut clenched. He must have felt that every time would be his last time."
"It probably wasn't much different for him from going into battle as a general."
"Fifty thousand people were watching his every move. It was different."
"I suppose. I think his mind was focussed on one thing, though -- killing Commodus."
"Maybe so... when my father was in the arena," he trailed his fingers over the two small figures on the cuirass, replicas of the wood carvings, "but his mind was obviously elsewhere when he was not."
"It must have been terrible for him, knowing that they were dead. And he was so far from his home."
"I can relate to that a little. I'm ready to go home too."
Lucius smiled. "So am I."
Glaucus' eyes finally left the cuirass and he looked at his friend just as a sailor dragged a rope across his feet. He pulled them up in time to avoid a man rolling a barrel from doing the same. "What have you been doing?"
"I've just finished reading the letters that were in the packet in the compartment." Lucius sighed. "It wasn't easy. They were written when my mother was younger than I am now but never mailed." Lucius sighed. "All of them were written to Maximus."
"Oh," replied Glaucus. He didn't know how else to reply. He stared at the tops of the curling waves, sparkling in the mid-afternoon sun. Gulls dipped and swooped after the silver fish that dared come too close to the surface.
"I knew that she loved him but even I didn't realize the intensity of that love. Some were written after my mother's marriage to my father. I'm not sure that she ever did intend to send them to Maximus because they are very, very personal and honest... more like a journal than letters, although each is addressed to him. I guess it's the intensity of the emotion that surprises me. My mother was a loving woman but reserved, as is the case with most imperial ladies. She was raised to do what was right rather than follow her heart. I'm sure that her brief affair with Maximus in Germania was the only time she allowed her girlish longings total freedom. Then she did her duty. She married my father and she produced an heir to the throne... me."
Alarmed by his tone, Glaucus turned his head sideways. "Lucius..."
"It's alright, Glaucus, I know that she loved me. She loved me above all else, but she never ever got over Maximus." He turned the letters over and over in his hand. "It breaks my heart to think of how lonely she was without him... how desperate she was that he was married and gone from her life forever. After my father died the letters became even more intense. She wrote that the only time she ever felt alive in her life was when she was with Maximus. She seriously considered seeking him out but refrained from doing so because of her position as daughter of an emperor -- which she cursed more than once. I think she would have given it all up if she could have been with him." Lucius leaned his head against the cabin wall and closed his eyes, his head gently rolling with the motion of the waves. "Your father seems to have inspired intense and enduring devotion from the women who loved him -- and quite the women they are. It's all very tragic, isn't it?"
Glaucus remained silent.
Suddenly Lucius chuckled and patted Glaucus' arm. "Now don't start feeling guilty. Their feelings for each other have nothing to do with you and me."
"I know, but I wonder if my mother knew about the other women who loved her husband. If she did it must have upset her terribly." He ran his fingers over the embossed figure of Olivia.
"Your father was faithful to her despite them. That says a lot about him. It says a lot about my mother too."
"It certainly does." Glaucus gazed at the rolling horizon as it rose and fell under the ship's railing. "I hope I can find a relationship like that some day -- one where I could be happy with one woman for the rest of my life."
"I should think that it would be a very easy for you to find a woman."
Glaucus ignored the compliment and just shrugged. "I've been too busy -- preoccupied with my father -- to even think about it."
"There's no need for that anymore. There are no more unanswered questions, are there?"
"No."
"Well, he would want you to carry on his name now by marrying and producing little Maximuses."
Glaucus laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
They watched the shoreline pass with a mixture of elation and sadness -- elation that they were on their way home and sadness that they would soon part. Only two days later Lucius disembarked at Massilia to prepare for the arduous journey up the Rhone then across the northern mountains. After a brief but heartfelt goodbye on the shore, Glaucus promised to come to visit him again then he and Brennus boarded once more to continue their journey, waving at the figure on the dock until he was just a speck. Marcus Aurelius would be very proud of the way his grandson had turned out.
The passage through the strait -- past the pillars of Hercules -- was uneventful and they finally set foot on Spain at Gades where they rented a river boat for the trip north to Hispalis. In that great city they loaded their belongings -- including the precious urn and chest -- into a sturdy cart pulled by two strong horses for the cross-country trip to Emerita Augusta. Ultor must have sensed that home was near because Glaucus had to continually reign him in and the horse snorted his displeasure and pranced sideways, wanting to stretch his legs and fly across the green hills under the hot summer sun.
A few days later Glaucus sat astride Ultor on a hill overlooking his farm -- its rolling landscape lush and green and positively bursting with life. Farm workers busily harvested the second cutting of golden wheat and the branches of the fruit trees hung low, burdened with ripened pears and peaches. Glaucus threw back his head and closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar smell of sweet grapes that perfumed the breeze, realizing just how much he had missed his home.
"It's peaceful," whispered Brennus and Glaucus grinned at his friend's reverence for the silence, broken only by the keening cry of soaring birds and the snorts and pawing of the impatient horses. "Do you see the pink stone house with the red tile roof atop that far hill?" He pointed in the direction he wanted Brennus to look.
"Yes. Is that yours?"
"It is. It's the place where Maximus was born and where he lived with my mother as a married man -- when he was home from the legions, that is. He loved it here and I think I can now understand why even more than I did before. He must have seen so much horror and suffered so much despair in the army. This farm was his refuge -- a place where he could watch things grow and prosper rather than die and suffer. It must have been very satisfying to a man with his oppressive responsibilities." He forced Ultor to walk slowly, savoring every footstep, admiring every wild flower and the thrust and angle of the rolling hills. He had taken his life here so much for granted and he knew he would never do that again. Only when the horse splashed through the cool, bubbling creek that twisted like a snake to the south of the farm did he give Ultor his head and let the animal race across the landscape, his hoofs barely touching the ground. Brennus walked his horse slowly beside the cart, letting his companion approach his home alone.
Glaucus dismounted at the gate in the stone fence and slowly pushed it open, the hinges singing a welcome, and gazed for the first time in years at the long, poplar-lined lane, dappled with dancing sunlight and deep shade.
The sound caught the attention of a farm hand. The man shaded his eyes and cocked his head in curiosity, slowly lowering his arm and his jaw as he realized who it was. He dropped his shovel and ran towards the house, stopping a boy and gesticulating wildly as he gave the child directions that sent him scampering in the direction of the neighboring home over the far hills to announce the young master's long-awaited arrival.
Glaucus knelt at the foot of the first poplar tree amidst the flowers planted by his grieving mother and said hello to his sister, telling her that he had brought their papa home.
A plump woman appeared on the step of the house, wiping her hands on her apron. She gasped with pleasure when she saw him and bounced on her toes, then quickly disappeared again shouting instructions to prepare a feast for the young master's homecoming.
A few hours later, Glaucus stood before his mother's and brother's grassy graves -- with the freshly turned earth for his father right beside them. He was surrounded by his mother's family, including the couple who had raised him as their own and the men he regarded as his brothers. The family were joined by the workers and slaves from both farms -- a huge and somber gathering of men, women and children. They stood in silence as the gold urn was lowered into the ground and Glaucus stepped forward to scoop up a handful of black earth and crumble it between his fingers onto the top of the urn. "Vale," he murmured. Behind him he heard people sniffle and repeat the farewell. He felt he should say a few words but could think of nothing that would accurately express the serenity that he felt for the first time in eight years. So, he simply knelt beside the grave and whispered, "You're home now, Papa. You are finally where you belong."
The crowd slowly dispersed, heading to the house, anxious to hear the story of his great adventure. But he remained there, alone with his thoughts.
He still sat beside the grave as the day turned to dusk, filtering the cool earth through his fingers over and over again, savoring the raw moisture and pure, musky smell. The chilly evening breeze filtered through his curls and steamed his breath, and rustled the grasses covering the older graves.
When dusk turned to rich, velvet darkness he slowly pushed the earth on top of the urn using his feet and hands until the mound reached the same height as the accompanying graves. Then the stars helped him find flowers along the lane and he placed them gently onto the grave until the earth was blanketed in dewy petals in moon-muted colors of yellow, orange and blue. A sad but satisfied smile creased his features as he stood beside the grave gazing at his father's resting place. "I hope you are pleased with me, Papa," he whispered. A while later he raised his eyes towards the house where his friends and relatives patiently awaited his arrival -- and a shock ripped down his spine making every hair on his body stand on end.
He stood there on the step -- Maximus -- attired in his full general's uniform, distinct and detailed despite the soft glow that emanated from his almost ephemeral body. He cocked his head as he solemnly regarded his son then he bent his right arm slowly until it crossed his chest, his fist to his heart, and he remained still, the breeze stirring his cape and ruffling the wolf's fur, until his son collected his wits enough to return the salute with a shaking hand. Maximus gazed serenely at Glaucus for a few lingering moments before nodding his satisfaction and his gratitude, then he smiled gently at his boy, his eyes crinkling with warmth and love... before his image started to fade.
"No," gasped Glaucus as he reached towards his father with shaking hands, then forced his watery legs to plod to the now vacant step. Stunned, Glaucus stood in the place where his father had just been, feeling the unnatural warmth of the air caress his face like a gentle hand. He closed his eyes and sighed, his heart full.
"There you are... finally," gushed his aunt Augusta who opened the door, flooding the step with light. "You've been out there so long, you must be exhausted and famished. She clucked her tongue and linked her chubby arm through his muscular one then cooed in concern over how sweaty he was. "You'll catch a fever for sure, it's so damp out here now. Persius!" she called through the doorway. "Come help me get your nephew inside. I've made those fresh biscuits that you love, Glaucus. Glaucus? Persius, please help me -- he's so tired he's trembling."
Persius gently disentangled his nephew's arm from his aunt's anxious grasp then placed a firm hand in the middle of Glaucus' lower back and turned him towards the doorway. "Come on in, man. It's been a traumatic day to say nothing of a very difficult few years. Let's get some food and wine into you then you'll feel better."
Glaucus twisted his head and glanced behind at the empty step, the air around him cool now.
"What is it? What's wrong? Did you hear something?" asked his concerned uncle.
Glaucus stared into the darkness for a few moments then said, "No... nothing... nothing at all." Then he drew a deep breath and looked up at the millions of stars twinkling in the clear night sky. "Everything is just perfect." He laughed suddenly, his demeanor changing completely and color flooding his pale face. "He's here. He knows everything. He has seen everything. He's content."
"What? Who?"
Glaucus slapped his confused uncle on the back and laughed again. "Let's get some food, Persius. I can smell those biscuits and I'm ravenous all of a sudden."
Hands rushed to grasp him and solicitous voices expressed their joy at having him safely back in the arms of his family.
Chapter 79 - Return to Vindobona
Adults and children alike sat quietly and listened intently as Glaucus told the tale of his trip to Germania and everything that happened afterwards. They marveled at his adventures and at the changes in the man who had been little more than a reckless boy when he had started his venture but was now so very much like his father. They were elated to hear that Marcus Aurelius had trusted Maximus with the most powerful position in the Empire then cringed at what happened next... right under their noses. Their sister and young nephew murdered, Maximus captured on his own land. Slavery. His triumphs in Rome as a gladiator. Julia. Maxima -- a wonderful and welcome addition to their large extended family. Then Maximus' betrayal and death, but not before accomplishing his mission to avenge the murder of his family and rid the Empire of the tyrant, Commodus. And they had not known anything about it. They had been unable to help him.
But Glaucus had succeeded where they had failed. Not only had he put all of the pieces together but he had brought Maximus home to rest beside his wife and son, risking his own life many times in the process. It was an astonishing achievement for a truly accomplished man -- a man who had taken on the Emperor himself and won.
Just like his father.
But they knew that Glaucus would not stay with them for long. He'd stay long enough to ensure that the farm was working to his satisfaction, and to rest and recover from his adventures, but then he'd be off again to bring the story full circle. This time, though, he would not go alone. Along with Brennus, his uncles Persius and Titus, and cousins Tacitus and Claudius would accompany him. They felt they owed it to him and to Maximus.
Glaucus established a special place in the atrium for his ancestors' cupboard and placed the precious mask inside. On either side of it stood the little figurines that his father had cherished so much and he would soon commission a sculptor to make a marble bust of Maximus that would stand on a pedestal in a place of honor.
He then took Brennus on a tour of his farm where workers were pleased to demonstrate how well it was functioning. Harvesting was underway, fruit was being picked and wool sheared. Colts who had been born that spring pranced around on sturdy legs after their mothers. Cows, sheep and goats grazed in the rolling pastures.
The books were in order and the balance had increased considerably in his absence, which was a good thing since he had spent every bit of the substantial funds that he had taken with him on his journey. After a rest, he would be ready to go again.
A month later, six men riding powerful stallions started on the road north towards Germania. All were armed but none sported armor except the man in the lead who wore a black leather cuirass with unusual embossed silver symbols of a tree and horses and people. Everyone who saw this small, determined and focussed army -- on the road and in the towns -- gave them plenty of space and sighed with relief when they were gone. They set a determined tempo that didn't waver even through the mountains of Spain, Gaul and Germania. Bred for just this kind of pace, their horses gobbled up the ground with swift, sure strides, snorting with pleasure. In little more than a week they crossed from Gaul into Germania then followed the Danube River to their destination.
Vindobona hadn't changed much since he had been there last and Glaucus doubted that it ever would. After he, Brennus, his uncles and cousins filled the local inn, he headed in the direction of the fortress anxious to tell Jonivus about his accomplishments. He approached the one-story gray stone house with a light heart but soon realized that something was wrong. The place was unkempt and overgrown with weeds -- even more so than it had been before. He steered Ultor around to the back of the house where Jonivus had tended his small garden but found it gone -- choked in weeds and smothered in downed branches from the surrounding pines and oaks. He whistled for Zeus but got no answering bark. Dismounting, he approached the oak door in the wall that surrounded the courtyard and pounded with his fists. No answer. He tried again with the same result then placed his shoulder against the door and pushed. It held firm.
Placing his hands atop the wall, he felt along the irregular surface until he found a hold for his fingers then he twisted his foot sideways and groped with his toe until he found crevice in the crumbling stone. He hoisted himself up and knelt atop the wall then dropped to the other side, landing with flexed knees. He slowly straightened. Cobwebs laced the doorway to the kitchen, almost obscuring the opening with fine, silver thread. Clearly, nobody had passed this way in a long time. He picked up a branch and cleared the webs then walked through the atrium and into the kitchen where he had spent so many evenings with Jonivus talking about Maximus. It was deserted, as was the rest of the house -- every surface coated in a thick layer of dust, the air musty and damp.
Was Jonivus dead? For some reason Glaucus had not allowed himself to consider that possibility. He walked slowly through the small house, his booted footsteps echoing hollowly, emphasizing the emptiness. He was bursting with a story to share -- a story of sorrow and wonder and ultimate vindication -- and he desperately wanted to share it with the man who had started him on his way. "Jonivus?" he said, his voice small like a lost little boy. Silence answered him. He turned on his heel and quickly exited the house, vaulting back over the wall. A few moments later he walked along the cobbled road towards town with Ultor trailing behind him, his head bowed, lost in morose thoughts.
"Well, I never thought to see you again."
Glaucus halted, startled at the feminine voice directly in front of him. He looked right into the eyes of Katerina.
"If you don't watch where you are going you are going to run somebody over with that nasty horse of yours."
Glaucus slowly grinned and his shoulders relaxed as he openly appraised her. "You haven't changed."
"You have." Her reply was as brazen as his gaze as she assessed his leather cuirass and bare arms and legs under the short tunic.
"Have I?" What was it about self-assured women that attracted him?
"Yes. I wasn't even sure that it was you at first." She slung the big basket of laundry to her other hip and studied him with a cocked brow. "You look... older somehow. Mature. Settled. You certainly are dressed differently."
"You haven't changed," he repeated, and she hadn't. Her beauty even more spectacular than he remembered. Her skin was still flawless, her mouth still full, but her auburn curls were piled on top of her head now rather than swinging freely down her back. He ventured a hesitant guess. "You're married again?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
Glaucus shrugged with what he hoped appeared a casual gesture. "Your hair." He smiled. "You didn't wait for me," he teased.
"I didn't know I was supposed to." She was serious. A moment later she grabbed his elbow and pulled him off the road to allow a cart loaded with vegetables to proceed past them on its way to the fortress, then she placed her basket on the ground before looking up into his green eyes. "I married a soldier two years ago and we have a baby boy."
"Daughter of a soldier and now wife of a soldier. That's wonderful," he said without conviction. He had unrealistically hoped to find everything as it had been -- as if encased in protective glass while awaiting his return. He mustered a wan smile as he searched for something else to say. "But you still do laundry?"
She shrewdly assessed his unsettled mood. "Yes. The extra money always helps. Besides, my husband is often away with the legion -- it was revived again on a much smaller scale -- and we have another mouth to feed."
He looked at her trim waistline. Was she pregnant again?
She twisted her lips into a wry smile at his puzzled look. "You were at the fortress?"
Glaucus glanced down the road behind him then said, "No, not yet... I was looking for Jonivus. His house seems to be deserted. Do you know what happened to him?"
"Yes I do."
"Is... is he dead?"
"You have news for him?"
Glaucus pushed back his flopping curls and she smiled at the familiar gesture. "I do. Great news. Where is he?"
Katerina picked up the overflowing basket and dumped it into his arms just as she had years before, then beckoned with her finger as she stepped onto the road again and headed towards town. "Follow me."
The old man sat in her kitchen with the big dog's head on his knee stroking the animals' soft head, staring at the child in the cradle nearby.
When the door opened, Zeus raised his head and pricked his ears, the dog's wet nose twitching as he detected a familiar scent. Glaucus rushed towards them. "Jonivus... Jonivus, I'm back," he cried and he opened his arms to grasp the dog who had jerked up and swung around upon hearing Glaucus' voice. Yelping as if in pain, the dog hurled his large body into his young master's arms.
Glaucus squeezed the animal and murmured words of praise while trying to avoid the long pink tongue that lapped at his face. He anxiously looked over Zeus' head at the elderly man who had risen unsteadily to his feet, his hand on the corner of the wooden table.
"Glaucus, Glaucus... is that you?" Jonivus turned his head back and forth searching for a sound that would give him another clue to his location and Glaucus realized that he was totally blind. His poor eyesight had finally failed him altogether.
He pushed down the dog and Zeus quickly returned to Jonivus' side where he sat protectively by the man's leg. "Yes, Jonivus, it's me. I told you I'd come back," he shouted, mindful of the old engineer's poor hearing.
"Well it took you long enough." Jonivus smiled and gestured him forward. "Come here, come here, and give an old blind man a hug."
Glaucus took Jonivus into his arms, pulling him right off his feet and the old man wrapped his arms around Glaucus' shoulders and clung tight. Despite his weight, Jonivus' body felt brittle, his arms bony and his white hair wispy and thin. When Glaucus carefully released him, Jonivus reached up to caress the Spaniard's face, surprised -- and pleased -- at the moisture he felt there. "You're not crying are you?" he gently chided.
"Of course not," Glaucus lied and contradicted his words by sniffling and swiping at his eyes as he took a step backwards.
Jonivus smiled and groped for his chair which he sank into with a grunt, the wooden joints creaking under his weight. Zeus returned his head to the old man's lap. "You looked for me at the house?"
"Yes. You weren't there," Glaucus replied before realizing how ridiculously obvious those words were.
"I went totally blind about a year ago and this kind lady took me in." He smiled in the direction of Katerina who had scooped her son from his cradle and was snuggling him in her arms. "She's very kind to me. Very kind indeed." He rubbed the dog's ears and Zeus closed his eyes in pleasure. "It hurt to leave my son but I couldn't look after myself anymore. She was even willing to take Zeus." His hand suddenly faltered. "I suppose you've come back for your dog?"
Glaucus pulled a chair up to the table but Zeus didn't stir. "My dog? I think he's your dog now."
"Oh... no, no. I've only looked after him for you. He eats too much. You must take him with you." But he clutched the dog's scruff and pulled the animal even closer.
Katerina suddenly thrust the infant into Glaucus' arms and said, "Speaking of eating, it is time to start supper. You can take care of little Justini while I do. If he cries just stick the tip of your finger in his mouth... but wash it first. You probably taste like horse."
Glaucus held up the baby and looked into his blue eyes. A little bit of reddish hair poked out from under his bonnet. "You look like your mama," he cooed. "Lucky little boy." Then he surprised Katerina by expertly propping the child over his shoulder while he jiggled his bottom which sat comfortably in one large hand. The baby was soon gurgling and drooling in contentment.
"You look like you've done that before," she observed as she peeled vegetables into a huge black pot.
Glaucus grinned at her. "I have lots of young cousins so I've held a few babies in my time."
"None of your own yet?" she asked over her shoulder.
Glaucus knew she was curious about his marital status. "No. No, I've been too busy to even consider it."
Jonivus was getting impatient with the small talk. He reached out towards Glaucus with a gnarled, spotted hand. "Tell me. Tell me what has happened in the years since I have seen you."
Glaucus drew a deep breath. "I succeeded, Jonivus. I uncovered the entire story and found my father's remains. He's now resting beside my mother in Spain."
Jonivus closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. "I knew you would. I knew you would succeed."
"I wouldn't have if you had not started me off with the right information. I had to travel all over the Empire but I found Julia and Marcianus and Lucius. And I found somebody else."
"Who?"
"My sister, Maxima. Julia gave birth to my father's daughter. She's in Rome. She's beautiful and strong and courageous and I love her dearly."
Jonivus clasped his hands in joy. "It's just too wonderful! You must tell me everything. Don't leave out even one word."
And he did, over a meal of roasted chicken, carrots and beans. He was still talking when Katerina took the snoozing baby from his arms and disappeared into the bedroom to nurse him, leaving the door ajar so she could still follow the tale.
The fire had burned low and they were well into their second jar of wine when Glaucus ended the tale by briefly describing the trip north with his uncles and cousins.
Jonivus' milky eyes were afire with passion. "It is all so wonderful. You have accomplished it all, Maximus. All."
Glaucus frowned. Was the old man drunk? Did he imagine that the general was sitting across the table from him? The young Spaniard leaned forward and gently said, "Jonivus, it's me... Glaucus."
Jonivus angrily waved his hand in the air. "I am well aware of who you are. I am blind not stupid!" He placed both hands on the table and leaned towards the younger man so that their noses almost touched. "Do you remember what I said to you shortly after we first met?"
Glaucus sat back in puzzled silence.
"When you introduced yourself. Don't you remember? I called you Maximus and you told me you were called Glaucus. Do you remember what I said to you?" Jonivus demanded passionately.
Glaucus' brow puckered as he tried to remember.
"Think! Think!"
Suddenly Glaucus recalled the exchange:
"Well, it's your name, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. But I have never used it. It belongs to my father, not me."
"It belongs to you too."
"I was never called that. I was always called Glaucus. My adoptive parents were afraid for my safety and wanted to conceal my true identity."
"That was wise. Alright, I will call you Glaucus, but you must be prepared to proudly use your father's name... and yours... when your searching is done."
"I'm not sure that I am worthy of that name."
"You are and someday you will know it." Jonivus smiled kindly.
"Your name is Maximus!" Jonivus insisted. "You have earned the right. You are your father's son in every aspect. Your name is Maximus!"
Glaucus groped for words.
"Say it!" Jonivus insisted. "Say it! Say, 'My name is Maximus.'"
Moisture sprang to his eyes for the second time that night. "I can't. I just don't feel--"
"You don't feel what? That you have earned it? That you deserve it?"
"I... I don't know," Glaucus replied slowly.
Jonivus softened his tone. "Well, I will call you Maximus until you grow used to it and soon you will see how well it fits."
Katerina returned with the sleeping baby and Glaucus looked at her with uncertain eyes.
She nodded her firm agreement with Jonivus.
Chapter 80 - The Mural
Glaucus approached the fortress unaccompanied the next day. He wanted to see the portrait alone, unsure of how fragile his emotions would be at first sight of the restored mural. His companions could inspect it later. He sat ramrod straight on Ultor's back, tension stiffening his spine. He had not been here since he had been incarcerated in the fortress prison then confronted by Severus and Plautianus years ago, and unpleasant memories tarnished his anticipation. Despite the contracted agreement that ensured word of Maximus' exoneration would reach every legion, he was not sure how he would be received here. His fingers tightened as the massive stone wall and imposing gate loomed before him and Ultor snorted and pranced sideways as his master's tension transmitted through the leather rein.
Glaucus dismounted and presented his identification and broad grins of recognition creased the faces of the guards. The massive oak gates swung open without hesitation and Glaucus rode through, his father's leather armor on his back and his father's sheathed sword at his hip. He rode relaxed now, his back straight with pride, past the empty stone barracks onto the via principalis towards the praetorium compound and his father's stone house. By the time he got there guards and soldiers were already snapped to attention and the gate stood open in invitation. He rode through and heard reverent whispers ripple down the ranks: "General Maximus, General Maximus." Glaucus dismounted and handed the reins to a soldier then accepted a salute from a guard.
"Sir, we have been expecting you. General Rufius is sorry not to have been able to greet you in person but he is upriver with most of the legion repairing bridges. He left instructions that you are to be granted total access to his house and to stay as long as you wish. You may go in when you are ready, sir."
"Has the work been done?" Glaucus asked.
"Yes sir. The restorers returned to Rome just last week. You won't be disappointed." The man stepped back and Glaucus nodded his thanks before mounting the step and entering the cool, dark atrium.
He stood for a moment letting his eyes adjust, gazing at the space that had been so familiar to his father... where his mother and brother had also spent many months. He walked forward onto the tesselated concrete but stopped after a few steps, staring at the sunny courtyard with the columned colonnade, small reflecting pool, two stone benches and table. He was really interested in only one thing, though, and he knew which door to enter. He gently pushed on the carved oak door of the bedroom that once belonged to his father and drew a deep steadying breath. He stepped inside with closed eyes then turned to his right. Then he exhaled slowly and raised his lids.
And there it was -- the life-sized mural of his father restored to its original glory. He was content to study it from a distance at first, absorbing its full scope. The entire wall was filled with an accurate depiction of the countryside around the Danube with purple mountain peaks and dense, deep green forests. The sky was a rich blue with soft, white clouds, the sunshine casting a shadow beneath the mounted figure. Glaucus took a few steps closer. Maximus was mounted on a blue-black prancing horse, so similar to Ultor that it was uncanny. His cape billowed behind him in the mountain breeze which ruffled the silver wolf furs tossed so casually over his broad shoulders. Glaucus stepped forward again. The cuirass gleamed in the sun, every detail of the wolf's head and gryphus carefully etched, as was the hinged shoulder armor and leather tabs that fell over his thighs. It was armor made for protection, not glory, but it looked positively regal on the majestic figure. By contrast, the wine-colored fine wool tunic looked soft and inviting where it caressed his upper arms and thighs. Iron and leather protected his hands, his right one brandishing the very sword which now swung at his son's hip. Leather boots laced to Maximus' knees where a bit of warm flesh was exposed to the sun.
Glaucus stepped closer again and looked up at his father's face, so strong yet gentle -- and exactly as he had seen him for those few precious moments in Spain. His head was high, proud and regal, his blue eyes piecing but twinkling with a humor that twisted his lips into a slight smile. His mother had captured him perfectly: a man of tremendous power, strength and authority but also understanding and compassion.
Glaucus' heart ached with the loss of such a man. The empire needed him... and his family needed him. He needed him. Why did he have to die? Glaucus impatiently swiped at the moisture which threatened to blur his eyes. Then he reached up and touched the cool plaster with trembling fingers. His mother had applied the paint with such expertise. He stood on his tiptoes and traced his father's lips with his fingertips imaging them, instead, to be warm and vital flesh. The lips seemed to stretch into a broader smile and the twinkle in his eyes seemed to grow brighter. He drew his fingers to his own lips and pressed them slightly then stretched up again and brushed his father's cheek with those same fingers. Then he stepped back and gazed at the glorious portrait like a man besotted.
He had no idea how long he had been standing there, absorbing every detail, and wishing that the magnificent fresco was on a wall at his own home in Spain, before he finally turned to his left and saw the second mural that his mother had painted. It depicted the farm, with two small figures in the corner under the tall poplar tree. He crouched low and saw the images of his mother and brother standing near his sister's grave. They stood hand-in-hand, his brother so sweet and innocent, his mother beautiful and elegant.
As he reached out to touch them a white-hot light suddenly exploded in his head then he plunged into oblivion as his limp body slumped to the floor.
The pounding in his head finally awakened him and he rolled over onto his side, the slight motion shattering his skull. He grabbed his head and retched until he felt like his insides had been turned out. He tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness spun him like a tornado and he toppled to the floor on his hands and knees, retching some more.
Finally, he managed to lift his head, moaning with the pain it induced. He opened his dull eyes to try to figure out where he was. Even the meager light twisted like a knife in his brain but he forced himself to survey his surroundings. In front of him on the floor a slanted rectangle of sunlight was slashed with black stripes. Confused, Glaucus tried to understand what it could be. Suddenly he remembered. He groaned in pain and fear and lifted his eyes to the bars of his prison cell door and to the sneering man who stood on the other side.
Plautianus.
Glaucus had walked right into a trap.
