Maximus' Story
Chapter 26 - A.D. 172
Weariness was etched in the face of the twenty-six-year-old tribune who sat astride his stallion staring across the river at the enemy camp near Vindobona. The war in Germania had stretched on for five long years with no end in site and the Felix legions had lost many men. He was so tired that he hardly noticed the beauty of the place. His men were tired; the enemy was tired, yet the war dragged on and on.
Darius reigned in his horse beside Maximus and shaded his eyes as he too observed the Germanians. He addressed his friend without looking at him. "Do you think they'll attack?"
"Probably." Maximus' voice was grim.
"How soon?"
"Soon."
"Then why don't we move first?"
Maximus sighed heavily. "Claudius won't."
Darius turned to Maximus, frustration tightening his voice. "He should listen to you, Maximus. Everyone knows who really holds the reigns of power in this legion."
"I've encouraged him to take the initiative but he will not hear of it. He foolishly thinks that the calm will hold and I can't convince him otherwise."
"If you issued orders to attack, the men would follow you. You know that."
Maximus looked at his friend. "Darius, there are many who wouldn't."
"Name one."
"Quintus. He's a centurion and to him the general's command supercedes all others but the emperor's. Even if he fully understood the foolishness of the man's ideas he would not disobey the commander. That's his nature."
"Well, there are few like him."
"There are enough."
"It's been done in other legions, Maximus. An incompetent commander has been overthrown by a leader who has the real loyalty of the men."
Maximus managed a brief, rueful smile. "Thank you for your support my friend. I'll try again tonight to persuade General Claudius that the time is right to take action. I don't know why he hesitates, but I have no intention of turning soldier against soldier within Felix VII."
"He's a coward, that's why. And he doesn't have a clue about battle tactics. You know as well as I do that when he issues an order the men glance at you for approval before they obey."
"Yes and that causes me great difficulty sometimes. Claudius is not a coward. He simply does not understand. He is more concerned with his future political career in Rome than the fortunes of this legion, although the two may be linked more than he realizes."
"If Claudius issued an order that we felt that you disagreed with, not one man would obey him," Darius persisted.
"Again, Quintus would. Quintus follows orders even if he knows their folly, Darius, you know that. And there are more like him. Obeying is easy. Making decisions is not." Maximus rubbed his temples as if trying to massage away pain.
Darius gave a disgusted snort. "When are the emperors going to return to see the mistake they made in appointing Claudius general?"
"I don't know." Maximus sighed and changed the subject. "It's beautiful here. Look at the mountains, Darius." Maximus lifted his eyes to gaze at the distant snow-covered peaks that were kissed with golden sunshine that did not warm their place in the cool, shadowed valley.
"Yeah, but they'd be a lot prettier if they didn't hide vicious tribesmen intent on removing our heads!"
Maximus laughed and turned his stallion around. "Alright, Darius, I'll give it one more try."
Maximus entered the general's tent unannounced and, as usual, interrupted a conversation about the political situation in Rome. Claudius looked up, irritated at the intrusion, as did the two other tribunes. "What is it, Maximus?"
"Claudius, I feel more strongly than ever that the tribe is preparing to attack. I cannot tell you how important it is that we take the offensive first. If we don't --"
"Maximus, when I want your advice I'll ask for it."
Maximus felt anger boil in his stomach. "Why is it, Claudius, that you look to me for approval of almost every order you issue but you will not listen to me about this?"
The general reddened with fury and leaped up to face Maximus, spilling his goblet of wine. "That is not true. I make my own decisions!"
"Gentlemen--," tribune Jonivus tried to interject.
Maximus ignored him. "Have your way, General, but if one legionnaire loses his life because of your refusal to act I shall make a full report to the emperors about your inability to make wise decisions." He glared at the other two tribunes, men who also wished their feet rested on the smooth marble of the senate floor rather than the coarse linen of a tent at the battlefront.
Jonivus spoke up again. "Maximus may have a point, Claudius. Why don't we double the guard and have some centurions patrol the perimeter of the camp just to be sure?"
"No man should be outside the walls at night," declared Maximus.
"That will be my decision, Maximus, not yours," steamed Claudius, "and I feel that it would be quite appropriate. I expect you to issue that order immediately!"
"Issue it yourself," Maximus growled and stormed out of the tent.
Chapter 27 – Darius
How did he get back here, he wondered? It was spring and the coral pink climbing rose framed the door, its branches thick with velvet flowers in full bloom and it's scent perfuming the air with sweetness. The tall poplars by the gate swayed in the gentle breeze, their graceful forms silhouetted against the fluffy white clouds drifting in the deep blue sky.
It was a perfect day. It looked perfect and smelled perfect.
Maximus glanced at his hands. They were young hands, unscarred from years of battle. He noticed the chewed fingernails. His mother was always trying to coax him to stop biting his nails. His body, too, was youthful and slender -- a boy's body. He wore his favorite brown tunic and his feet were bare and dusty in the luscious green grass.
He heard his brother giggling in the kitchen and his mother's soft voice laughing with him.
He looked around in wonderment. The fruit trees were laden with perfect, unblemished produce. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their songs blending in harmony. Maximus was stunned by the absolute perfection of it all.
His eyes were drawn to the kitchen window. His father stood there beckoning to him, a smile on his handsome face. Maximus tried to move but couldn't. His father gestured again. Maximus looked down at his feet which were now buried up to the ankles in sticky black mud. Where had the mud come from? He looked back at his father about to call for his help when the window suddenly exploded in a raging fireball that leaped quickly to the roof and raced around the sides of the house as if alive. Maximus screamed but no sound emerged from his gaping mouth.
He stared at the kitchen window. His father was still there beckoning to him, a smile on his face but his body now consumed by orange flames. Maximus reached out in desperation towards his father. Suddenly his father's face melted like it was made of wax, the smile drooping, the flesh dripping, the eyes turning to black cinder. The house was totally consumed but still the figure stood in the window, a horror now, no longer his father -- but still recognizable. Still familiar. But... different. It was Darius. Darius now stood in the window his face staring in horror, his mouth open in a silent scream, his hands reaching for Maximus -- imploring -- begging for help. Maximus screamed his name noiselessly. He reached for his friend but his legs wouldn't move... and Darius melted with the house.
The boy's hands dropped to his sides. He was useless. He was impotent. He couldn't help. He couldn't save anyone. Anyone.
Maximus sat bolt upright in bed, his wide eyes staring into the darkness. There was no fire, no house, no father. He was alone in his bed in his tent in Germania. Maximus shuddered at the realism of his dream.
Darius. Darius had been there. Why had Darius been in Spain?
Suddenly Maximus vaulted from bed and hastily pulled on his tunic and boots. He raced through the camp slipping to his knees on the dew-moistened grass that glistened in the moonlight. "Darius!" he screamed when he saw the tent. "Darius!"
"Maximus! What is it? What's wrong?" Quintus grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around.
"Where's Darius?" Maximus broke his grip and plunged into the tent only to exit alone a moment later. "Where's Darius!?" he asked frantically.
"He's probably on patrol outside the --"
Maximus didn't wait to hear the last word -- he turned and ran for the gate, Quintus at his heels. Pushing past the guards they raced alongside the high dirt embankment, Maximus on a mission and Quintus concerned about the sanity of his friend. But Maximus' great fear drove his legs faster and he rounded the next corner well ahead of the centurion.
Quintus would never forget the horrible scream of anguish as long as he lived.
He found Maximus on his knees, his face buried in his hands, the hem of his tunic soaked in blood. Darius stared at the moon with unseeing eyes, his throat slit from ear to ear.
Maximus didn't remember the days after Darius' death. He was told that his cries brought the legion to his side; that he calmly organized and led a brutal attack on the Germanian camp that left every tribesman dead; that he personally slaughtered more than a hundred of the enemy. But maybe that was just part of the legend of Maximus the warrior that was born that night and embellished as it spread like fire from legion to legion along the empire's northern borders.
Chapter 28 – Home
Maximus sat atop the crumbled wall of pink stone -- one of the few remaining signs of what had once been his home. His hair had grown during the long journey home, as had his beard, and now the gentle warm wind lifted the thick waves off his forehead, allowing the sun's warmth to kiss his upturned face and tan his drawn features.
He had hardly slept while on route and still awoke many times every night, horrific dreams plaguing his rest. Would he ever get over what had happened? Would the terrible pain of Darius' death ever lessen? He had begged Claudius for leave to mourn his friend and refresh his lagging spirit but the shaken general had refused his request, so afraid was he to lose the council of this tribune -- a man who now openly had the loyalty of the legion. In the end, Maximus simply left after telling Claudius where he was going and why. He explained his actions to Quintus who promised to make the soldiers understand that Maximus would indeed return, and he also sent a long letter to Marcus Aurelius about why he had taken such drastic measures. He knew that Marcus would understand.
But, the comfort he thought he'd feel upon the first visit to his homeland didn't materialize. Instead he felt numb and could not seem to re-establish a connection to his past. This pile of stones was simply a pile of stones, not the remains of his house, and the surrounding hills looked more foreign rather than familiar, as did the village of Trujillo in the valley below.
Maximus felt like he didn't belong here; he felt like he didn't belong anywhere.
He stood and gazed at the overgrown slopes. He assumed that he owned this property as the only surviving son and clearly nobody else had claimed it in the meantime. The land was overgrown with brush, the trees were tangled with vines. There was little left of the orderly farm that he had known as a boy.
Hands on his hips he walked around the perimeter of the crumbled wall to the south side and his eyes were drawn immediately to a glorious cluster of pink blooms -- the climbing rose that had been so prominent in his dream. Somehow it had survived the fire and regenerated to be more vibrant than he ever remembered. Could that kind of regeneration ever happen to him after all he had been through?
He gathered a bloom in his hand and sniffed its perfume. Something clicked in his brain -- some memory. His bedroom had been over the front door and he recalled the fragrance of the rose at night. Smells. It was gradually coming back to him now. He fell to his hands and knees and crawled along the edge of the wall. His mother had planted mint beside the house. Had it survived the fire, too? By the time he found it, his hands were raw but he rubbed the dark green leaves between thumb and fingers and lifted them to his nose. Yes, the fresh smell that he associated with his mother. Mint. It was coming back now.
But, where was his father? Maximus stood and looked around. What smells did he associate with his father? He wandered through what used to be the vegetable garden of his home, where his father had grown much of the food that had graced their table. Crouching, Maximus gathered a handful of dirt and rubbed it between his palms before raising it to his nose. Yes, it was there the pungent smell that emanated from his father after a day in the fields. Tears welled in his eyes and Maximus blinked hard. He was beginning to feel reconnected to his past, to his family -- to the land.
Leaping gracefully over the wall he entered what had once been the interior of his home. It had seemed so much bigger when he was a child. He knew nothing was left here now except pieces of the stone floor because had scoured this place immediately after the loss of his family, gathering any small trace of their lives. As he turned away to leave, something white caught his eye. Crouching, he picked up a long, curved tooth that had obviously been there a while and was now bleached by the sun. Suddenly his heart leaped and he dug inside his shirt for the lizard tooth that still hung on a leather thong around his neck. It was a match. His brother had owned two and Maximus had found only one of them after the fire. Years of sun and rain had given him the other. Maximus sat in the rubble turning the tooth over and over in his fingers, then he dropped his chin and squeezed his eyes shut. Before long his shoulders heaved with the sobs that rose unhindered from his chest.
He was home.
Chapter 29 – Olivia
His back bared to the sun with sweat trickling down his chest, Maximus yanked on the stubborn bramble, ripping what he could out by the roots and throwing it on an ever-increasing pile of rubbish. The leather thong with two teeth swung from his neck.
Straightening, he placed a palm on his lower back and arched backwards listening to his spine crack, then he clasped his hands and stretched to the heavens to relieve the stiffness. Hands on his hips he twisted his torso to the left then the right then to the left again.
He froze.
Large black eyes peered at him from behind the huge poplar tree that stood majestically by the gate. As he slowly dropped his hands to his side the eyes disappeared and he heard the soft sounds of footsteps running on dirt. "Hey!" yelled Maximus, but all he could see was a mass of long, black, wavy hair swinging wildly as the girl ran down the lane and disappeared into the woods.
How long had she been there, he wondered? And who was she? Maximus tried to recall his neighbors but had little memory of them. Besides, even though he did not see her face, he could tell that the girl who had been watching him would have been very young the last time he was here. He stood still for a while, staring at the woods but she didn't return. It was slightly unnerving to find that he had been scrutinized when he assumed he had been alone. He raked his hands through his hair then turned back to the task of clearing the land around the house.
That night Maximus slept under the stars and enjoyed his first dreamless sleep in many months.
The next morning he rose at dawn and made the trek to the stream to bath. As he started to unbuckle his short breeches he hesitated and looked around. Could she be there? Maximus chuckled at his thoughts and yanked his breeches down, kicking them away before he plunged into the water, gasping as it chilled his warm skin. He rubbed its freshness over his face and into his hair before stepping back onto the bank and shaking the water off like a dog. While buckling his breeches he surreptitiously looked around. He was alone.
He returned to the task at hand refreshed but hungry. For the past few days he had had little to eat but scrubby plants he found. Used to the substantial rations of a soldier, his diet was certainly suffering and his breeches already felt looser. He'd have to double his efforts to get the land cleared so he could plant some crops but it would be a while before they would be ready for consumption. Until then, he'd have to visit to Trujillo to purchase some rations.
Returning to the crumbled wall he sat down and started to pull on his boots. These were too heavy in this climate and he needed to buy some sandals too. He pulled them off again and tossed them aside. A trip to the village was definitely in order. Standing, his eyes were drawn to the tall poplar but no black eyes peered back at him.
She had been there, though, and she had been very close to him. On the opposite wall was a package wrapped in string and beside it a flask of wine. He smelled the bread before he could see it and his hands tore at the fabric covering. Cheese. There was cheese too and olives and fruit. Ravenous, he ripped off a large chunk of the steaming loaf and stuffed it into his mouth, looking around as he chewed. He raised the flask of wine in silent thanks to the shy girl with the flowing black hair. Every morning after that a package awaited him when he returned from the stream.
Within the week Maximus had constructed a secure but temporary structure of wood for shelter. He had been lucky with the weather but knew that the rains would come soon and needed to be prepared. As long as he had shelter and the steady source of food continued he could concentrate on his main task -- rebuilding the pink stone house.
Until now he had let his stallion lead a life of leisure, happily chomping the long sweet grass that sprouted around the stone walls but now it was time to put Argos to work. Maximus reigned the horse and stretched the animal's legs by trotting down the overgrown lane. At the bottom of the lane he saw her. She was walking on the road some distance away, a basket in her hand. When she saw him she stopped, unsure of what to do. Not wanting to scare her away, Maximus reigned in Argos, much to the animal's great displeasure and he snorted in frustration. Maximus patted his neck but did not take his eyes off the girl.
She looked at him then looked behind her, obviously considering her options. Maximus could see that she was alone and had no idea how far she had come to deliver his food. He smiled at her but she did not return the greeting. Even at this distance he could see that her eyes were wide with apprehension and he didn't blame her. He knew very well what some soldiers did to unprotected women and she was wise to be afraid. But Maximus did not want her to be afraid of him.
He released the reigns a bit and let the horse walk slowly in her direction. When she started to turn away he reigned in the horse again. "Hello," he said, raising his voice enough to be heard without shouting. He knew full well how his deep-throated voice could frighten people. He smiled again. She bit her lower lip.
Suddenly he realized a possible reason for her apprehension -- he was almost naked. His chest was bare and bronzed by the sun, as were his legs beneath his breeches and even his feet. Argos was bare too -- his saddle left in the shelter. He decided not to approach any closer. "You've been leaving food for me."
She nodded.
"I appreciate it. It's the only thing that has kept me from wasting away to nothing these past days."
She looked him up and down rather boldly, he thought, her lovely eyes indicating that she didn't think he was wasting away at all.
Maximus laughed. Maybe he had read her wrong after all.
"Is that for me?" He indicated the basket.
"Yes," she answered, her voice like rich velvet.
"Shall I come and get it from you or would you like to deliver it?"
"I'll leave it in the road."
"I won't hurt you. You need not be afraid of me."
She looked at him like he was a simpleton. "I'm not afraid of you. It's your horse that I don't like."
"Oh. Well, I guess he is rather big." Maximus dismounted and Argos immediately moved to the side of the lane to pull out long stalks of grass with his yellow teeth. Slowly, Maximus walked towards her talking softly as he did so. "You must be my neighbor. Where do you live?"
"Over that far hill." She gestured with her head. "Maximus."
His eyebrows shot up. "You know my name?"
"Of course. You used to play with my brother when you were a boy. Everyone wondered what happened to you."
"Who's your brother?"
"I have four brothers, actually, but the one you would know is Titus."
"Titus... yes I remember him. What's your name?"
"Olivia."
"That's a beautiful name. It suits you."
She tossed her long, black mane over her shoulder and cocked her head. "Thank you."
Maximus could now clearly see the twinkle in her luminous black eyes and the slight quirk to her full lips. He continued walking until he stood a little more than arms-length away then stopped and stared. She was beautiful. "Why have you been so kind to deliver food to me?"
"Because you would be very hungry without it." She laughed -- a rich sound that sent shivers down Maximus' spine. "My family has plenty this time of year and we cannot see our neighbor go without."
"I thank you and your... husband."
"You'd better thank my father instead. I'm unmarried."
He just stared at her.
"I know what you're thinking."
"I don't think so."
"You're thinking that I'm very old not to have a husband. That there must be something wrong with me," her voice was slightly defensive.
"Believe me, I wasn't thinking that."
"I've had plenty of offers--"
"I'm sure you have--"
"But my father is prosperous and understanding enough not to force me to marry anyone. You're a soldier so you're not married either."
"How do you know I'm a soldier?" Maximus felt like a fool the moment the words left his lips. He nodded as she rhymed off the reasons.
"The tattoo for one thing, and the horse. Who owns a horse like that but a soldier? The boots that I've seen you wear and the tunic. The armor that you stashed in that little hollow of rocks by the stream, the--"
"It was a silly question."
She raised her eyebrows to indicate that she agreed with him. "And of course there are the weapons -- those nasty looking swords and that shield."
Maximus smiled. "Would you come back and share this with me?" Maximus gestured to the basket.
"No."
"Oh." Unconsciously he took a step backwards, his smile gone.
"No, it is just for you. But, I will invite you to join my family for dinner this evening."
"Thank you. I would like that very much," he said seriously and bowed slightly.
She smiled and transferred the basket to his hands then turned away and started back down the road. He stared at her tall, slender form and gently swaying hips. "Oh, and Maximus...," she called over her shoulder.
"Yes?"
"Wear some clothes tonight, will you?"
He laughed and so did she. He stood quietly and watched until she disappeared from view over the hill.
Chapter 30 – Dinner
Maximus ripped through his pack, pulling out all of his clothing and strewing it around him on the ground. What a sorry lot, he decided. Nothing but soldier's clothes: wine-red woolen tunics with separate trousers and wide leather belts, short breeches, metal cuirass, decorative leather cuirass, boots... hardly appropriate for a dinner with his civilian neighbors. He pulled on a tunic and trousers then belted the tunic to bring the length to mid-thigh -- the proper length for a soldier. Too hot. He removed the leggings. Now the clothing looked too plain. He eyed the decorative leather cuirass with the gold-trimmed tabs at hip and shoulder. He knew he looked good in that... suddenly Maximus burst out laughing. Never in his life had he even thought about what to wear. It was always so simple -- just find clean linen then pull on a tunic, trousers if cold, a cape if wet, metal cuirass if going into battle and leather cuirass otherwise. Finally he decided on the short tunic with the leather cuirass and boots, his arms and legs left bare. It would have to do.
His hair must be a mess. He had done nothing except wash it then run his fingers through it for weeks. He could tell by running his hand over his face that he had a full beard rather than the neatly trimmed one that he usually sported. He briefly searched for something that would mirror his features then gave up and trotted down to the stream. There, his rippled reflection confirmed his worse fears. He was all hair. No wonder Olivia had been so wary of him at first -- he was starting to resemble a Germanian tribesman! He'd have to find a barber in Trujillo but he had no time for that now. Dipping his hands into the cool water he ran them through his thick waves hoping to tame them a little.
A short time later Maximus rode his stallion to the end of his lane then down the dusty road where he had met Olivia, then over the next hill. There he found a wide wooden gate with huge iron hinges surrounded by a high stone fence that blocked the view of everything beyond. Maximus trotted Argos back up the road, turned him around, then kicked him into a gallop and cleared the gate in one graceful leap. The lane ahead curved behind another hill and disappeared. Olivia had obviously walked a very long way every day to bring him his food. He galloped for a bit then slowed the animal to a trot as he approached an area of thick trees, a red tile roof jutting just above the leaves. Dismounting, he tied his horse to a branch some distance away from the house, not wanting to alarm Olivia again. Maximus was astonished the size of the place -- so different from his little cottage. Three stories high, it was quite imposing and austere on the outside and resembled a fortress. The starkness of the place was alleviated by climbing roses and flowering shrubs planted in huge urns. Whatever her father did for a living, he obviously did very well. There were many other buildings that looked like dwellings in the distance, all made of the same pink stone as his house.
Maximus sniffed as he walked. Horse. The familiar smell of horse was in the air. Tearing his eyes away from the house he glanced around. On either side of the lane stone fences snaked into the distance over the hills and magnificent horses of all hues grazed in the green fields. The animals were huge and powerful, just like his own stallion. He veered off the road and approached a fence, placing his crossed arms on the cool stone and admiring the majestic beauty of these animals -- as good as any he had ever seen in the cavalry. Maximus extended his hand and clicked his tongue hoping to coax over a particularly handsome black stallion. The horse regarded him coolly and tossed his head, his long mane floating on the breeze.
"Come here Argento," called the velvet voice from behind Maximus. Olivia approached the fence with some hay in her outstretched palm and the horse trotted over to her, carefully gathering the hay with his soft lips. She smiled and stroked the velvet nose.
Maximus turned to face her a question clear on his face. "So you lied to me about being afraid of horses?"
Olivia kept her eyes on Argento. "No... I was teasing." She cast a sideways glance at Maximus and grinned. "My family breeds them for the legions. This one is destined for some great general and so is his brother, Scarto. They are the best we have ever bred."
Maximus stroked the horse's muscled neck and nodded his agreement.
"He's far better than your old plug," Olivia added, her tone light.
Maximus laughed. "Well don't let my old plug hear you say that. I have to admit Argos is getting on in years but he has served me well -- most of the time."
Olivia now turned her body to face Maximus and openly appraised his attire. "Good choice, soldier."
"It's not like I had a lot of choice."
"Well, it suits you. Come to the house. Titus is anxious to see you again and the rest of my family wants to meet you."
"And who is the rest of your family?"
"Titus' wife, Augusta and their three children; my second oldest brother, Eusebius and his wife Flora. They have two children and another on the way. And my annoying younger brother Persius who is sixteen. My father's name is Marcus. My other brother moved away with his family.
As they walked to the house Olivia clasped her hands behind her back and slowed her pace to drop slightly behind him. Maximus had surmised already that this woman would not defer to any man in that way -- she was probably taking a better look at his.... He stopped suddenly and reached to grasp her elbow pulling her alongside him.
Olivia's laugh was deep and throaty. "You know, when you stand on top of the highest section of the wall of your house you get a fairly clear view of the stream."
Maximus reddened and turned his face away to admire the horses again.
Olivia lowered her voice to a conspiratorial hush. "You don't have anything that I haven't seen before. I have four brothers -- remember?" Her eyes dropped to his waist, then lower. "Although I have to admit --"
"So what are we having for dinner?" It was the only question Maximus could think of on the spur of the moment.
Olivia curled her hand around his biceps. "Ahhh... chicken and lamb, I think."
"You're not sure?"
Olivia continued, "I don't pay much attention to that sort of thing. I guess I am somewhat spoiled but we have slaves who do all of the cooking and cleaning. I help with the horse breeding and keep the books."
"Oh. You can read and write?"
"My father taught me."
They reached the house and Olivia preceded Maximus through the front door. Outside the house may have the appearance of a fortress but inside it was luxurious. Maximus stood in the huge atrium on the elaborate floor mosaic of horses -- horses walking, frolicking, jumping.... The room was illuminated by an opening in the ceiling which also allowed rain to pool into a shallow depression in the middle of the floor. Many rooms with carved wooden doors opened off the atrium and at the back it looked onto a formal courtyard with fountains, benches and marble statues scattered amongst the flowering shrubs
"My father traveled to Rome quite often when my mother was alive. He saw the villas there are vowed to have one of his own when he could afford it. My brothers live with their families in other houses on the estate, but they are here tonight --"
"Maximus! Maximus, we thought you were dead, my friend. Look at you. You're a soldier!" Titus grabbed Maximus by the arms, an expression of pure pleasure on his face. "You're a little hairier than when I saw you last, but I know it's you."
"Titus, it's a true pleasure to see you again. You've changed a bit too my friend." Maximus playfully poked his ample stomach.
"Ah yes... the perils of the good life. Come, meet the rest of the family." Titus introduced the his family then pulled Maximus further into the atrium by the courtyard where they settled into intricately carved wooden chairs with leather seats. A goblet of wine was pressed into his hand and within a short time the two men were lost in memories of their boyhood. His brothers listened intently, especially sixteen year old Persius. Olivia smiled when her two sisters-in-law cast appreciative glances in Maximus' direction.
"Titus, I don't remember you living in a home like this when we were children."
"We had a cottage much like the one you lived in, Maximus. Now it serves as part of a stable." Titus chuckled, "The wars in the north and east may be hard on men like you but it lines the pockets of men like us. We breed the finest cavalry horses in the empire. The emperors ride our stallions and we ship dozens to Rome every year for the Praetorians. Maybe you even ride one."
Maximus chuckled. "I don't think so."
"Well, you should."
Conversation was interrupted by a call to the dinner table. The dining room consisted of another decorative mosaic floor with wall murals of the surrounding countryside. In the middle of the room sat a huge square table and long couches were positioned on three sides. Maximus was at a loss about what to do and he was grateful to feel Olivia take his arm and guide him to the closest couch. She sat at the end and gestured for Maximus to sit beside her. The family patriarch, Marcus, sat on his other side. Remaining family members took their places on the other couches, some reclining in total relaxation. Maximus sat up straight as he was accustomed to doing in the army. He was thankful that Olivia did the same beside him.
Once seated, Marcus took charge of the conversation as the lavish meal of roast chicken and lamb, a variety of cooked vegetables, olives, pickles, bread and cheese was served. Bottle after bottle of wine was poured. "Persius, pass Maximus the bread. Maximus, what's your rank?" asked Marcus.
"Tribune, sir. I'm advisor to the general of Felix VII legion."
"I know a fair amount about the army even though I've obviously never been a soldier myself. How is it that a Spaniard is a tribune?"
"I was granted Roman citizenship, then Marcus Aurelius--"
"The emperor?"
"Yes. He arranged an adoption by a senatorial family so I could be promoted beyond centurion."
"You know Marcus Aurelius?"
"Yes sir. I've met him many times."
Marcus nodded thoughtfully, his narrowed eyes appraising Maximus. "He must think a great deal of you."
"It's a mutual admiration, believe me. He is the finest man I have ever met."
"Here, Maximus, have more lamb. More pickles?" offered Titus.
"No Titus, I'm fine. Thank you. I'm not accustomed to eating food like this."
"They don't feed you well in the army?" asked Flora.
"They feed us very well but the food is quite plain. This meal is beyond anything I've seen in a long time and I thank you for inviting me here tonight."
Persius piped up. "Olivia hasn't done anything but talk about you for a week. She couldn't wait for you to -- oof!" Titus jabbed him square in the stomach with his elbow.
Maximus couldn't resist a glance at Olivia who glared at her brother. Refusing to be cowed, she then turned her head and met Maximus' gaze.
Marcus took control of the conversation again. "Where have you been stationed, Maximus?"
"In Germania." He turned back to the family patriarch. "I've served there for many years."
"You're obviously a long way from retirement..."
"Yes, I have to go back. I'm just on leave for a short time." There was a touch of real regret in his voice. "I hope to start rebuilding my home soon and I'm clearing some of the land. Someday I want to return here to --"
Not enjoying the change in topic, Persius interrupted, "Have you killed lots of men, Maximus?"
Maximus looked at the boy and hesitated for a long time. The sound of utensils on plates stopped as everyone awaited his answer. Before replying, he glanced again at Olivia who was watching him with concern. He said slowly, "Yes. I've killed when I've had to."
"Papa, Maximus admires Argento." Olivia could sense the sudden change in Maximus' mood and quickly turned the conversation in a different direction.
Marcus was very pleased to have such an important military man admire his horses. "You like him?"
"Yes, sir. He's just about the finest horse I've ever seen."
"Even Marcus Aurelius rides one of my stallions."
Conversation about horses continued as slaves brought bowls laden with fruit and sweet pastries to the table and Maximus' wine glass was refilled yet again. About an hour later Marcus declared the meal over. "Olivia, why don't you show Maximus around the property? It's dark outside but it's a bright evening.
"I'll go too!" said Persius.
"That's quite alright, son. I'm sure Olivia can do it." Marcus cast a meaningful glance at his youngest boy.
Persius was not pleased. "I'll bet she won't even show Maximus the breeding barn," he said in disgust.
"I'll bet she will," Flora said to Augusta under her breath and the two women giggled.
Maximus held the front door open for Olivia and she walked past him with a radiant smile. He lifted his hand and let it trail through her long locks watching them fall gracefully to rest against her gently curving back. The sweet perfume of roses drifted to his nostrils and he suddenly longed to bury his face in those sweet black tresses.
