Maximus' Story
Chapter 51 - Getting Acquainted
Maximus knelt and rested his crossed arms on the edge of his son's low crib as he gazed at the child's angelic, sleeping face. Olivia sat cross-legged on the floor beside her husband, her eyes on his face as he caressed Marcus' soft cheek with one tentative finger. Lost in sleep, the child did not flinch and Maximus' sigh of relief and contentment brought a smile to his wife's soft lips.
Olivia ran her open palm slowly up her husband's spine and across his shoulders reacquainting herself with the sturdiness of his body. She rose on her knees and draped her arms around his neck then whispered in his ear, "He is brave like his papa, and curious about everything." Olivia rested her chin on Maximus' shoulder and kissed his neck just below his ear. "I'm sure he would not have reacted to you the way he did if I hadn't screamed when I saw you. He was frightened because he thought I was frightened. When he sees how much I love you his attitude will change, you'll see." She kissed his cheek. "Come to bed, Maximus," she coaxed.
"You get ready. I'll be along soon." His eyes did not leave his son's face.
Olivia kissed Maximus once more then tiptoed to their adjoining bedroom where she considered then discarded her usual nightclothes in favor of a luxurious silk shift of cream color piped with gold. Slipping it over her head she studied her form critically in the long mirror that stood in the corner. Had she changed much in the years since Maximus had seen her last? Her figure was still slender in the right places and full where it should be. Her black hair still gleamed as its shimmering waves cascaded over her shoulders and down her back to her waist. She shook her head making the thick mass dance around her shoulders and stuck out her tongue at her own reflection trying to calm the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. It had been so long since they had seen each other that it almost seemed like their first night together and Olivia desperately wanted everything to be perfect. She dabbed scent between her breasts and at the base of her throat then ran her fingers through her locks before climbing into bed. She lay on the left side as she always did even when Maximus was not there, his place reserved for him always.
Olivia woke abruptly and sat up confused. The bed beside her was empty, the sheets undisturbed. How long had she been asleep? She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and tiptoed barefoot towards her son's room. Suddenly she stopped and listened, her head cocked as her husband's low, resonant voice reached her ears. His words were undistinguishable but she knew he was addressing his sleeping son. Her lips twitched in a slight smile and she returned to the bed. Maximus would be along when he was ready.
The next time she awoke she was cuddled under her husband's left arm, her cheek on his chest, his heart thudding slowly beneath her ear. Olivia raised her head slightly to find Maximus in deep sleep, totally relaxed with one hand flung above his head, the fingers curled like a child's. How could a man of such strength and virility, a man with such heavy responsibility, a man of war -- look so sweet and boyish and... vulnerable?
"Mama?" a small voice called from the next room.
Olivia wriggled out from under her exhausted husband's grasp and padded to the doorway casting a glance back to make sure that Maximus remained undisturbed. After slowly opening the door she dismissed Marcus' nurse with a nod of her head then scooped the child up in her arms and hugged him. Marcus giggled when Olivia tickled him as she changed his garments. Then, murmuring comforting words, she returned to her bedroom and sat on the side of the bed, holding Marcus in her arms. The child studied the sleeping man with some trepidation. Nobody had ever been in Mama's bed before except him and he was not sure he liked it. Olivia bounced him gently and explained in a whisper that the man was 'Papa.' Then she lay back beside Maximus, her body propped up on pillows, and sat Marcus on her lap. Her husband did not stir.
The child jammed four fingers into his mouth and stared hard at the man for some time before cautiously extending a foot to brush the muscular arm with a tiny toe. Maximus did not budge but the boy jerked his foot back as if the man's arm had scorched it. Olivia smiled at Marcus and whispered words of encouragement. He slowly stretched out his foot again then hesitated and looked at his Mama who nodded and smiled. This time he wiggled his toes against the heavily-muscled arm then withdrew quickly as Maximus shifted his right arm to scratch the tickled spot. Marcus' eyes widened and he watched the muscles ripple before settling to rest again. The child giggled then clasped both little hands over his mouth to stifle his merriment as Olivia struggled to control her own mirth.
Marcus once again tickled his father's arm and watched in glee as he elicited he same response but Olivia knew the game had changed when she saw her husband's eyelids briefly flutter open then snap shut again as he quickly evaluated the situation and feigned sleep. His breathing remained deep and even and his features composed, his right hand resting on his left forearm now, ready for his son's next action. He didn't have to wait long. Maximus felt the little toes kiss his skin again and he wiggled his fingers in reply. He heard the gasp, then the giggle, then felt the soft touch again. This time the child let his foot rest against his father's arm and Maximus gently caressed it fully expecting Marcus to abruptly pull away. He didn't.
Maximus waited patiently, eyes closed, to discover what the boy would do next. He soon felt two soft little feet resting against his arm and he suppressed a smile as he walked his fingers quickly across them eliciting a huge shriek of excitement from Marcus. Maximus could contain his own happiness no longer and laughed out loud as he rolled to his side facing his wife and son. Marcus shyly smiled back and Olivia sighed with relief as she watched the two most important people in her life share a moment of trust and happiness.
Gradually, over the next week, that trust grew until Maximus and Marcus became as close as if the father had been part of the son's life all along. Together they investigated every corner of the farm, the toddler balanced on his papa's shoulders as Maximus whistled a lively tune. They hiked through the fields, their hands trailing through the crops savoring their smell and texture. They inspected the olives that were ripening in the hot sun. They watched workers stomp fragrant purple grapes into mush in preparation for winemaking, their feet and legs stained deep red. In the early mornings, when patches of fog still lingered in the hollows, they dipped a line into the pond and sat in the rushes patiently waiting for a nibble.
When they sampled fruit left to dry in the storage shed their ears detected soft mewling and they found four tiny kittens huddled together under a wagon, their watchful mother nearby. Maximus showed Marcus how to hold the fragile animals and they sat side by side and watched them play, then feed, then fall asleep in a heap.
But Marcus' very favorite activity was riding Scarto cuddled safely in the cradle created by his father's thighs and arms. The youngster often fell sound asleep in that position, his head resting against his father's strong chest.
Olivia watched them from a distance, anxious to give them time alone together, a great sense of peace settling over her. This is where Maximus belonged. She watched the tension melt from his shoulders and the worry lines in his forehead fade. His hair grew longer and thicker and lifted off his forehead in the breeze when he sat on the back of the great stallion, his eyes squinting in the sun as he surveyed his land. He entered the house every evening with dirty hands and clothing and a look of total satisfaction on his face.
A constant nagging fear nibbled at the edge of Olivia's consciousness, though, and try as she might she could not banish it. Maximus had casually told her about the incident with Cassius making it sound like a trivial event, but Olivia understood the danger he had been in and knew that her husband was completely indispensable to Marcus Aurelius and to Rome. His visit with his family was just that a visit, not a permanent arrangement. Every morning Olivia found herself scanning the roadway for signs of the Praetorians who would soon trot over the hill in a cloud of dust with orders from the Emperor for Maximus to return to Germania or report to some other part of the empire where he was needed. Marcus Aurelius would never allow Maximus to be absent for very long. She and her son needed him too, but the Emperor held far more influence when it came to her husband's fate.
Olivia was determined to make Maximus' stay as happy as possible regardless of its duration. She oversaw the preparation of appealing meals and often invited her family to join them for raucous dinners that lasted late into the evenings. Maximus complained that he was in danger of getting fat and Olivia teased him that maybe that was her plan to make him too fat to be much use to Marcus Aurelius as a soldier so she could keep him on the farm. In truth, he was more fit that ever, working right beside the farm hands to dig, plant, harvest and clear the crops as well as mend fences and carts. The land seemed to invigorate him. He retired late and rose early despite making plenty of time for longs hours of lovemaking with his appreciative wife. He smiled often and laughed a lot, and relaxed under the poplars in the evenings with spiced wine in his hand and the scent of jasmine in his nose.
"I don't ever want to go back," he confessed one night. "I just want to stay here with you and Marcus and have a slew more children. I want to feel dirt under my fingernails and watch things grow, not die."
Olivia didn't reply. She knew Maximus was giving voice to an impossible dream. The only part that might perhaps prove true was the growth of their small family and Olivia prayed that before Maximus was called away she would be pregnant again.
Chapter 52 - Cicero's Visit
Cicero pressed a fist into his lower spine and groaned as he arched backwards hearing the bones crack as they were forced back into place. The old war horse he was riding suited his skill level with its slow, ponderous gait but it's step was uneven and Cicero had almost reached the end of his endurance after five weeks on the road. He had to keep reminding himself that the journey was his idea and that he had brought the pain he was suffering upon himself.
He shifted again uncomfortably and wondered, once again, where the cursed dog was. "Dog," sneered Cicero. That's what Maximus called him but in truth the animal was far more wolf that dog. He shaded his eyes with a hand and peered at the fields to the left but there was no gray tail jaunting merrily above the tall grass. Well, wherever he was, he would make his presence known soon enough. As much as the beast annoyed him, Cicero had to admit that Hercules was good company at night, provided plenty of protection and kept him in a steady supply of rabbits.
Despite his dark thoughts about his animal companions, Cicero's mood had lightened considerably this morning because he realized that his journey would soon be at an end. An old wooden sign stuck on a post had informed him that he had crossed the border into Spain. He would soon be where he belonged -- with General Maximus.
Suddenly Hercules charged under the horse's belly between his legs then turned in the road to face man and horse, his whole body swaying as he wagged his long tail, a small, furry varmint stuffed between his huge jaws. Cicero pulled in the reigns and the surprised horse jerked to a halt causing Cicero's teeth to snap together almost biting his tongue. Hercules dropped his prize in the road and waited for words of praise. Cicero saw that it was yet another rabbit and sighed. They had eaten rabbit every night for three weeks but at least their stomachs were full. "Good Hercules, good boy," he said half-heartedly as he dismounted and picked up the limp, bloody carcass between his finger and thumb holding it away from his body.
Slightly confused by the man's lack of enthusiasm, Hercules sat on his haunches and whined slightly, his head cocked. "Oh, all right," said Cicero as he patted the dog's huge head. "I really do appreciate it. I'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for you. You're a good dog." Happy now, Hercules lay in the dirt on the road and waited for his companion to skin his gift. "Not now, dog. We've got a ways to go yet today then we've got to find a safe spot for the night. Come on, boy. Only a few more days and we'll see him again."
Barking drew Olivia outside the main door of the house -- deep, frantic barking that sounded familiar somehow. She peered down the road as she wiped her damp hands on the apron that protected her dress and saw a large gray dog, its ears flattened and its tail straight, running at full speed up the road. It was Hercules, no doubt about it. She moved quickly to the grass and dropped to one knee just in time to grasp the dog as he leaped at her before sending her sprawling backwards into the grass. The huge animal straddled Olivia, bathing her face in sticky kisses. She laughed then screwed up her face as she struggled for control of the dog. Grabbing him by his scruff, she used all of her strength to pull him off her and rose to her feet facing the still-empty road. The time she dreaded had come. Soon, soldiers would appear over the crest of the hill to take Maximus away. She straightened her back, brushed blades of grass off her skirt and choked down the sobs that threatened to erupt in her throat, preparing to greet the Praetorians with the composure befitting a general's wife.
A few minutes later the tell-tail sign of dust announced the visitors' arrival. But it was a small puff of dust rather than the dense, brown clouds usually raised by a Praetorian guard and Olivia soon realized that she was looking at only one rider.
The rider approached, bouncing inexpertly on the back of the trotting horse and stopped a few yards from Olivia. She heard him groan as he dismounted and saw him stumble slightly. Instinctively she moved forward and offered her hand in assistance but he waved her away, his thick, dark auburn hair momentarily shading his eyes. He tossed his hair back and said, "I am looking for the home of General Maximus. Have I come to the right place?"
Olivia was momentarily startled by the deep scars that criss-crossed the man's attractive face but she recovered quickly and replied, "You have come to the right place, sir. I am the wife of General Maximus."
The visitor smiled. "The General did not exaggerate your beauty, my Lady."
"Who are you, sir?"
"Forgive me, my Lady. I am Cicero, the General's servant. I have come from Germania to be with him."
Olivia peered down the road again. "Are there others with you?"
"No one human, my Lady. Just this old horse and a gray beast that the General calls a dog. He ran off and left me a while ago."
"Hercules is here." Olivia looked around and noticed that the animal was gone. "I guess he left to look for Maximus." She hesitated then bravely asked, "Have you come with orders for my husband to return?"
"No, my Lady--"
Olivia sighed with relief, her shoulders dropping.
"I serve the General Maximus and I should be where he is. I have come for that reason, although I do carry letters from Tribune Quintus who is functioning as leader in his absence."
A radiant smile lit Olivia's face. "Then you are most welcome, Cicero. Forgive my manners and please come inside. I'll have servants care for your horse. You must be very tired and hungry."
"Yes, my Lady, I confess that I am both," said Cicero as he climbed the steps after her and entered the welcoming shade of the large, stone house. Olivia showed him where to bath the dust from his face and hands then escorted him to the triclinium where she poured him honeyed wine before leaving to inform the cooks that they would have a guest for dinner.
Cicero had been sitting in the dining room no more than a few minutes when he heard booted footsteps running in the atrium followed by a dog's paws scrambling to find a grip on the mosaic tile floor. Seconds later Maximus glanced into the dining room doorway as he ran past then Cicero heard his boots slide as the General skidded to a stop. The dog fared much worse, his claws chewing uselessly at the tile as he tried to suddenly reverse his direction and Cicero winced when he heard the big animal thud against a wall.
Maximus burst through the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise. "Cicero!" he exclaimed. "Cicero... what are you doing here? Are there others? Where are the others?"
Cicero stood to greet his General properly. "There are no others, sir, and I am here to serve you. There is no point in my remaining in Germania if you are in Spain. Besides," he shrugged, "I needed a break from Felix III."
Maximus grinned and grabbed Cicero's hand in greeting then briefly embraced him. "You look awful," he laughed. "A hard trip, was it?"
"I don't know how you do it, sir... riding all over the Empire on a horse. My back may never recover, to say nothing of my backside."
"A hot bath later will help a lot," said Olivia as she entered the room followed by servants bearing trays of food and drink.
"You've met my wife?" asked Maximus, his eyes gazing lovingly at Olivia.
Cicero nodded. "I have indeed, sir, and your description of her was quite accurate."
"And my son... have you seen my son?" When Cicero shook his head Maximus headed for the door but was stopped by Olivia who blocked the doorway with her body.
"Maximus, Marcus is napping. If you wake him now he will be a grouch all night. Cicero can meet him when he wakes up and it will give us a chance to dine in peace."
"Of course. You're right." Maximus looked at Cicero somewhat sheepishly. "I tend to forget how young he is and I want him with me all the time."
"Sit here, Cicero," said Olivia as she directed her guest to a couch at the end of the room. Maximus pulled a resisting Hercules out of the triclinium and ordered him to stay put then joined Olivia on the couch facing the door. Conversation ceased briefly while first courses were served then began again in earnest as they nibbled on the salads and shrimp. Hercules slumped to the floor just outside the doorway, his snout on his paws, forcing the wary servants to step over him.
"Are you a soldier, Cicero?" asked Olivia, still conscious of the deep scars on his face.
"I was, my Lady. I was in the infantry." Cicero hesitated and glanced at Maximus who nodded for him to proceed. "I was captured by a barbarian tribe in Germania four years ago and... wounded."
"He was tortured," said Maximus simply and patted Olivia's hand when she paled visibly.
"By the time Roman soldiers rescued me I was almost dead and it was months before it was sure I would live." Cicero took a long drink of his wine. "When I recovered I found that I re-lived the experience every time I prepared to march into battle again and I just couldn't do it. I tried so hard... I knew I would be discharged early and my pension would be at risk. I have no family -- my whole life has been the army." Cicero glanced at Maximus. "General Maximus offered me the option of working for him as his assistant, and I have served him proudly ever since."
"I would find life very difficult without you now, Cicero." Maximus' next words were directed at his wife. "He is a very discreet man who does not repeat any military secrets that he might overhear. I trust him completely. He also seems to know what I want even before I know it." He looked back at Cicero. "I would have taken you everywhere with me, Cicero, had I known you are an expert horseman."
Cicero snorted at the gleam in Maximus' eye. "I think I'd rather walk back to Germania than ride back. No, sir, I'd just slow you down. I'm no horseman like you are."
"You should have ridden Argento. He'd have gotten you here in half the time it took you on that old plug."
"I wouldn't touch that demon. If I ever tried to ride him he'd toss me over a cliff for sure. Where did you get horses like that anyway?"
Olivia and Maximus laughed. "They were a gift from my beautiful wife. Her father breeds the finest war horses in the Empire."
Cicero flushed. "Forgive me, my Lady. I'm sure they're wonderful animals... not like that wolf you own, Maximus." Cicero gestured to the huge dog who pointedly ignored him. "Now there is one truly wicked animal...," Cicero hesitated when he saw Olivia grin again. Maximus buried his smile in his goblet of wine.
Cicero looked at Maximus. "Him too?" he asked lamely.
Maximus nodded and leaned towards their guest, one dark eyebrow cocked. "Another gift from my lovely wife," he explained in a loud whisper.
"Well... well... you certainly have excellent taste in animals, my Lady. You certainly know which animals... suit your husband. They are smart and... powerful, and... brave... just like he is, and..."
Olivia burst out laughing. "My feelings are not hurt, Cicero, and just ignore Maximus. He is teasing you. He has become a terrible tease these days." She sighed in mock frustration.
Cicero studied Maximus closely. "You look different, sir. Much more relaxed. Younger, almost." Maximus regarded his servant quizzically. Cicero continued, "Maybe it's the hair. I didn't know you had curly hair."
Maximus ran a hand through his thick, shiny waves and smiled. "It's much easier to keep clean here than at the front so I don't mind it longer."
"And I like it that way," added Olivia.
Cicero noticed the warm look she gave her husband and his affectionate glance in return. They touched each other often, Cicero noticed: a stroke of a cheek; a squeeze of a hand; a hand on an arm or lower back. Their relationship was truly a loving one.
Feeling like he was intruding, Cicero changed the subject. "Hercules was a great help to me on my journey. I was nervous about travelling alone but no robbers bothered me when he was around. The only time he left me alone was when he went off hunting for rabbits. Rabbits. Always rabbits! I ate well but I am extremely tired of rabbit."
Maximus looked startled. "Oh, well then... I had better ask the cooks to find something else to serve for dinner. They have been working all day on preparing a special rabbit dish."
"Maximus...," Olivia warned under her breath.
Her husband continued, seemingly unaware of Cicero's discomfort. "It'll be no problem for them, I'm sure. They can throw together something else--"
"No, no, rabbit will be fine. I'm sure it'll taste much different prepared by your cooks."
"Maximus, stop it!" Olivia swatted his arm lightly. "Cicero, we are having venison for dinner. Maximus is teasing you. Ignore him."
"Oh." Cicero was quite puzzled by the change in his General. Maximus had always been so serious in Germania -- grim almost. Cicero had never seen him in a light mood and the transformation was startling. Is that what made him look years younger? For a while the great weight of decision-making had been lifted from his shoulders. For a while he did not have to send men marching to their deaths. He did not have to prepare strategy for war, and it made him a different man -- one that Cicero was very pleased to discover. He leaned forward and raised his wine goblet in the direction of his General. "To you, sir."
The gesture puzzled Maximus. "To me? What do you mean?"
"I don't mean anything in particular. Can't I honor my General if it pleases me?"
Olivia took up her goblet as well and raised it high. "To Maximus," she said with a smile.
Maximus looked back and forth between them searching for some clue about what they were up to. He finally shrugged and raised his goblet as well then bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "I have no idea why you two are doing this but I guess I had better be gracious about it." Then he grinned wickedly before throwing back his head and draining his glass in one long gulp.
"By the way," said Maximus to Cicero, uncharacteristically wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "I have more than enough people to take care of me here. Consider yourself on leave, my friend".
Chapter 53 - The Conversation in the Garden
Maximus sat staring into his wine goblet which he twirled back and forth between his fingers, lost in thought. The full moon reflected in the deep red surface of the liquid. Cicero sat nearby studying the General closely. He had learned more about this man in the few days he had been at the farm than in all of the years he had known him in the army. He had no idea what was in the letters he had transported from Germania but the contents obviously disturbed Maximus.
Maximus sighed heavily and raised his eyes to meet Cicero's. "The tribes are building a fort at Colognia?
"Yes, sir. So I hear."
"Why are we allowing this to happen? If their fort is within a few miles of the river it would give the Germanians a strong base from which to launch attacks."
"Yes sir."
"Then I ask again -- why are we allowing this to happen? I left Quintus with the authority to take action against such aggression."
Cicero shifted in his seat and glanced at the darkened atrium. "May I speak plainly, sir?"
"Of course."
"Quintus can't make decisions. He's good at carrying out orders issued by a superior you or the Emperor, for example -- but when left on his own to evaluate situations and make decisions, he can't do it. The biggest decision he made was to move the legions to Colognia as a show of power but nothing has happened since."
"Then what has he been doing in the months that I've been gone?"
"Building more roads and repairing others. Strengthening our fortifications... that's about it. He's tried to ignore what's happening across the river. In truth, sir, I think your absence has been good for him. It's shown him he's not quite the leader he fancies himself to be."
"Well--" Maximus started then stopped as Olivia entered the garden with a sleepy Marcus on her hip.
"He woke up and wanted his papa," she said. Small arms reached for much larger ones and Maximus settled his son on his lap. Olivia plucked a few blooms from the roses beside her husband's chair then quietly disappeared back into the atrium. Perfume from the roses filled the night air.
"Marcus, this is Cicero, a friend of mine." The child was obviously still very sleepy and he merely glanced at Cicero before turning to snuggle into his father's chest, his thumb in his mouth and his eyelids drooping. Maximus kissed the child's black hair and brushed it back from his forehead before smiling at Cicero. "My reason for living," he said. "Marcus and Olivia."
"I can see that, sir. I envy you."
"My time with them is so short."
"You are quite a different man when you are with them."
"A better man."
"No, not better. Just different."
"It's not human, you know, to spend the best part of your life in warfare so far away from the people you love. To wonder every day if you'll be alive to see your son grow up. A soldier's life is unnatural."
"Could be worse."
"I suppose."
"You could be a slave where your life would depend entirely on the whim of another."
Maximus smiled. "You're right, of course. I'm just feeling sorry for myself when I have no reason to do so. I am a fortunate man indeed to have such a wonderful family. I have no financial worries." He grinned at Cicero. "I get to issue orders rather then obey them."
"Most men find it far easier to obey. There is no responsibility in that."
"Are you referring to Quintus again?"
"I am. I hate to tell you this when you are sitting here in this beautiful garden with your baby on your lap, but the men want you back. Even if Quintus could make a decision I'm not sure the men would obey him. They don't trust his judgment. They trust you completely."
"Soldiers must obey their commanders."
"I don't have to tell you that there are all kinds of ways that they can avoid doing that without outright disobedience."
"Such as? No, don't tell--"
"They could sabotage the equipment so that it is not ready for warfare, for one thing," interrupted Cicero who was determined to have his say. "The large weapons could develop operational problems. The camp could be hit with some mysterious illness..."
"My men would never do those things."
"Not with you in charge, sir. With Quintus I don't know..."
Maximus buried his nose in his sleeping son's hair and felt the small child's heart beating against his own. He knew that what Cicero said was true but he had avoided thinking about it in order to enjoy his time with his family without guilt.
"There's someone else you love as much as your wife and child," said Cicero.
Maximus raised his eyes in question.
"Marcus Aurelius and all he stands for. You love him and you love Rome -- passionately."
Maximus nodded and sighed. "You are very perceptive, Cicero. I had no idea you understood me so well. Tell me truthfully, were you sent from Germania to try to persuade me to return?"
"No, Maximus," said Cicero with unaccustomed familiarity. "I came because you are the only man I will serve. I am wasting my time in Germania if you aren't there."
"Thank you for your loyalty, Cicero."
"It's not something I give lightly, sir."
Maximus teased a tuft of grass with the toe of his sandal. "I must admit that sometimes I feel quite out of touch with the world when I am here. When I am in Spain it's easy to imagine that Germania doesn't even exist, and Rome too, for that matter. It's disconcerting, somehow."
"You are accustomed to knowing first-hand what is going on in the Empire, to being a man who makes decisions that affect the fate of millions of people. As much as you love this place, it would never be enough for you."
"I don't know..."
"I do," said Cicero with conviction. "You are too young to retire to a permanent life here."
"I want to see my boy grow up. I want more children... grandchildren."
"You can have it all. If there's one man in the Empire who can have it all, it's you. I have no right to tell you how to live your life, sir, but if you will allow me to say... you are a born soldier, a born leader but I can see that you need your family too. Why can't you have it all?"
"When I am here I miss my soldiers and the army. I long to talk to Marcus Aurelius. When I am with the army I miss my family. Maybe I am destined to never be satisfied with my life." Maximus laughed. "What a sad thought, indeed." Marcus squirmed in his lap before settling down again and as if on cue Olivia appeared to take the child back to bed. Maximus relinquished him reluctantly and Cicero noticed an intimate look pass between husband and wife.
He stood and stretched, reaching to the stars overhead. "If you don't mind, sir, I think I'll turn in. I'm still pretty tired from my journey."
"Of course, Cicero. Goodnight."
He rose to leave.
"Cicero."
"Yes, sir?"
"I enjoyed our talk. Thank you for making the difficult trip to Spain."
Cicero nodded then turned to leave almost tripping over Hercules who was sprawled out full-length behind his chair. The dog raised his head and looked at the man disdainfully before settling back to rest again. "There is one thing I don't understand about you, sir."
Maximus raised his eyebrows but he knew what was coming. "This animal. Why can't you keep a nice little doggy like everybody else?"
"He suits my personality," laughed Maximus as he too rose to head to bed.
Chapter 54 - The Fair
They heard and smelled the fair before they could see it. Marcus' excitement level rose with every turn in the hilly, winding road from the farm to Trujillo and by the time the cart stopped at the outskirts of the fair he was almost trembling. The day was warm and sunny and Maximus had abandoned his customary boots in favor of sandals that laced up his calves and a casual knee-length linen tunic. He jumped down from the cart then assisted Olivia as she did the same, leaving Cicero to fend for himself. Maximus then swung Marcus onto his shoulders holding him securely by the ankles and Marcus wove his fingers through his papa's hair for added security. Olivia wrapped her hand around her husband's bent elbow and they headed towards the bustling main street of the town which had been transformed into fairgrounds for the day.
The population of Trujillo had more than tripled as people from the surrounding farms joined the festivities. Jugglers, fire-breathers, and stilt-walkers threaded through the thick crowd and honeyed wine and sweet cakes filled the air with succulent smells. Local tradesmen loudly hawked multi-colored ribbons, glassware and wooden toys from small stalls as they competed for the coins of those in attendance. Actors in colorful costumes performed short plays and skits on small make-shift stages to appreciative audiences. Ostriches, lions, hyenas and tigers languished in cages, bored and subdued under the hot sun, oblivious to the curious stares of those who passed by.
Marcus' eyes were as round as plates as everything vied for his attention. He squealed with glee at a juggler who kept six balls in the air simultaneously, and his little mouth dropped open when the fire-breather shot flames in his direction. Olivia laughed and patted his behind for added assurance then shifted her hand to her husband's lower back as the couple exchanged smiles. Maximus purchased sweets and drinks for them all which they consumed as they wandered with the jostling crowd, stopping whenever anything caught Marcus' fancy.
Cicero observed the interaction of the small family from his position slightly behind them and felt a surge of pity for Maximus who could be torn away from them at any time. Until he had come to Spain he had not understood that the General was so devoted to his family.
From his vantage point, Cicero noticed people stopping to stare at the attractive man with the toddler perched on his straight, broad shoulders. Villagers and farmers alike pointed at Maximus in recognition and whispered to each other, surprised and thrilled to find him in their midst. He had reached a status attained by very few Spaniards and they were fascinated by this great man. Maximus took no notice but Cicero scowled at them and moved closer to his general, determined not to let curious onlookers spoil his day. To Cicero's annoyance a small, curious group fell in behind them, their eyes fixed on Maximus. Finally, some braver citizens stopped the general to greet him and speak words of appreciation. A few of them had known Maximus when they were children and he was genuinely delighted to see his old friends again. He made time for each one, smiling, shaking hands and trading memories. Olivia beamed with pride but Marcus swung his legs against his Papa's chest in impatience.
Before long a crowd gathered around them pumping Maximus with questions about the Emperor and asking for information about the wars in Germania as well as his recent escapades in the east. Maximus expertly deflected queries with humor as he had no intention of addressing matters of the state with civilians.
Marcus squirmed and was on the verge of complaining when Olivia reached for him and settled him on her hip. She said a few words to her husband then headed for the nearby puppet show nestled under a small striped tent, glancing back to make sure that Cicero remained with Maximus. Olivia stood behind the children who sat on the ground but her eyes remained on the throng around her husband which was expanding and becoming rowdier. Women and children were jostled aside by unruly young men who wanted to get close to the famous warrior. Olivia gasped as she saw a small child stumble and cry out in terror before his mother could snatch him away from trampling feet. Soon Maximus and Cicero were completely lost to sight in the midst of a rapidly-growing crush of people.
At the center of the mob Cicero elbowed some of the crowd aside opening a gap for retreat that quickly closed up again. As people on the outside pushed to get closer to Maximus those on the inside were squeezed against him. When Maximus saw another frightened child fall he took a deep breath and bellowed in his best military voice, "That's enough! Move aside and let me pass!" The authority in those words had the desired effect and those on the perimeter of the mob scattered allowing people to disperse somewhat and Maximus to emerge from its depths. He stalked towards his wife with long, sure strides, his arms swinging with purpose, his head lowered and his eyes riveted straight ahead. He looked furious but even at a distance Olivia could see them twinkle. Suddenly Maximus twirled around and faced the subdued throng. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen. I am here today with my wife and son and I would like to spend the remainder of the day with them in peace. I trust you understand." He bowed slightly to the crowd then took Marcus from Olivia and settled him back on his shoulders, turning his face towards the puppets and his back to his admirers. Amidst a scattering of applause people slowly started to disperse. The entertainers competed to draw back their audiences and the shouts of the hawkers once more filled the air.
Maximus gave his wife a sidelong glance. "So, how did they know about Cassius and events in the east?"
"I don't know. I never said a word to any of them about what you do."
"Not to anyone?"
"Of course not!" said Olivia, slightly irritated that he would doubt her. "No one outside the family knows." She closed her eyes. "Oh no. Titus. My brother knows. You told him yourself at dinner last week, and I guess I've mentioned things as well. I had no idea he'd tell everyone, Maximus." Olivia looked stricken. "I am so sorry."
"No harm has been done. It is better, though, to let Marcus Aurelius decide what he wants the people to know."
"Yes, I understand. I'll talk to Titus about it."
"You don't need to. I'll mention it to--" Maximus suddenly winced as Marcus yanked his hair and squealed with joy.
"Look Papa, look! Puppets dance. Look!"
Maximus laughed at his son's joy. "I see them, Marcus," he said as he whirled his son around in an improvised dance of his own. Suddenly his expression changed and he stopped abruptly, staring at a vehicle that was lumbering towards them along main street making people scatter from its path. Marcus continued to giggle and twist his little body to see the show, unaware of the change in his father's attitude.
"What is it, sir?" asked Cicero as he followed his eyes to the wagon.
"Prisoners."
They watched until the wagon stopped no more than a hundred feet from them. It was totally enclosed in a heavy wooden cage. Dirty, callused hands hung listlessly between the bars indicating the hopelessness of the men within.
"Why bring prisoners to a fair?" asked Cicero.
"I noticed a makeshift arena when we first arrived," Maximus said in an icy tone. "Look beyond that wall over there. I suspect those men are slaves brought here to entertain the mob by dying horrible deaths while their owners reap the profits."
"Gladiators? Here?" asked Olivia as she shivered.
"They're all over the empire everywhere crowds gather for amusement." Maximus turned to his wife. "Take Marcus, will you? I don't want him to see this."
Unencumbered by his son, the General moved closer to the wagon followed by his servant. The heavy iron door screeched miserably as it was thrown open by an armed guard and men slowly emerged, chained together at wrist and ankle. They stumbled as their feet touched the ground and all were filthy and wearing rags. Long, tangled hair and beards almost obscured their faces but could not hide the fear and loathing in their eyes. A crowd gathered once more, this time to jeer the slaves and some youngsters launched stones at them. Only one prisoner stood tall and glared at his tormentors defiantly. He didn't flinch when the sharp stones hit him. He stood still, only his eyes moving as he surveyed the mob.
Maximus cursed under his breath, a grim look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Cicero asked with concern.
"I know that man. He was the leader of a tribe that we defeated near Vindobona and he was taken prisoner." Maximus glanced at his companion briefly before turning his attention back to the tribesman. "He is a very brave man, Cicero, and he fought honorably." Maximus cursed again. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve to die for sport. It would have been more humane if we'd killed him on the battlefield.
"Can't you put a stop to this?" asked Cicero.
"No," said Maximus bitterly. "This is all quite legal. The man is a slave and his owner can do anything with him that he pleases. Listen to this crowd. They can hardly wait to see the blood flow. To them death is entertainment. They don't see what soldiers see."
The man continued to glare at Maximus until the chains on his raw wrists tightened forcing him to turn away, but before he did he looked straight at the Roman General and spit vilely in his direction.
Despite the warmth of the day Maximus shuddered. "Come on, Cicero. Let's get far away from this place of death."
As he headed for the puppet show again a small smile cracked his stern features when he heard Marcus cry out, "Papa, Papa, come quick. Look!"
Olivia turned to greet at her husband and Maximus returned the smile, stopping abruptly as he watched the happiness and color drain from her face, her eyes focused on something over his shoulder. His fighting instincts unleashed, Maximus reached to his side for his sword but his hand grasped nothing but fabric as he whirled around in a crouch ready to face any adversary, a snarl on his lips. He fully expected to find himself confronting the Germanic warrior who had somehow escaped his captors and was intent on revenge. Instead, his eyes looked directly at a decorative black leather cuirass trimmed with gold, the kind worn by the Emperor's Praetorians. Slowly he straightened and drew a deep breath, forcing his shoulders back in a display of indifference that he didn't feel.
"General Maximus, we have been looking for you, sir. We have an urgent letter from the Emperor."
"Look, look, Papa!" Behind him Marcus shrieked with laughter and Maximus managed a tight smile for his sake, for the sake of a small boy that he may not see again for years.
Chapter 55 – Siege
Maximus sat on the back of Scarto, relaxed despite the multitude of arrows that stuck from the half-frozen earth not twenty feet in front of him like the quills of a porcupine. His eyes roamed constantly across the landscape alert to any change in the situation. He shivered slightly as the cold wind whipped the dead grass under his horse's hooves into playful brown spirals then swirled up under his woolen cape. "Snow," he thought. It could snow anytime and things were not ready yet. There would be no rest for the men.
Maximus was on the ridge of a hill overlooking a newly-cleared section of the Germanic forest. At the north end of the clearing loomed an imposing stone structure -- a fortress built in secrecy in the depths of the dense forest by the tribesmen while Maximus had been away in the east, then is Spain. For months the fortress had steadily grown in height, stone by stone, unnoticed by the Roman army on the other side of the Rhine which had been concentrating on repairing roads and strengthening its own fortifications.
Panic ensued when a Roman patrol stumbled upon the well-hidden fortress and Quintus reacted by quickly moving a number of legions to Colognia. But, there they waited while Quintus decided how to approach the situation. Weeks later he still struggled in indecision as the legions practiced maneuvers and voiced their wishes that their real general was back. Maximus would know what to do, they agreed.
General Maximus finally reached Colognia when the nights were growing long and cold. His arrival was unheralded but word spread quickly through the camps and the soldiers slept that night secure in the feeling that everything was now as it should be. Early the next morning Maximus crossed the river and examined the fortress from the protection of the forest. He issued decisive orders immediately upon his return to camp and the appreciative soldiers snapped into action. Within a week a sturdy wooden bridge spanned the Rhine and the legions had cleared the forests south of the fortress leaving the rugged terrain studded with stumps.
As quickly as the trees fell they were stripped of branches and bark then cut into lengths appropriate for the massive catapults, ballistas and crossbows they were constructing. Men worked under hastily built sheds constructed from the felled wood to protect them from enemy arrows and javelins launched from the fortress above. In the forest, surrounded by thick evergreens and away from the tribesmen's eyes, the bases of three large assault towers were started. They would be moved into the clearing on huge wooden wheels, pulled by teams of horses, where their construction would continue until they were as high as the fortress. A pathway would be cleared of stumps just before the towers were pulled from their hiding place.
The Roman soldiers were pleased to be preparing for war after months of peace. These highly-trained men thrived under these conditions and even laughed and joked as their muscles strained under the stress of nonstop building. Whenever they grew tired they looked up the hill to the ever-present figure on the black stallion who sat as still and straight as a statue, and found new strength and energy. Maximus was watching. Maximus was issuing the orders. All would be well.
Scarto shifted from haunch to haunch impatient at his inactivity and Maximus quieted his stallion with a few words. He was sympathetic with his horse, though, as his own body was growing tired after days and days of sitting, watching and issuing orders. It would be better for all when the time for battle finally came.
Suddenly the reigns jerked in Maximus' hands as a startled Scarto reacted to terrified screams from below. A flaming arrow from the fortress had found the roof of one of the sheds and it had burst into flames. Soldiers shrieked as their clothing ignited and they stumbled into the open where their companions quickly rolled them on the ground to smother the flames. Maximus shouted a warning as a mass of arrows launched from the fortress walls striking the soldiers who were now unprotected by the wooden shelter. Two fell dead instantly and the others ran for cover, dragging the injured men along with them, arrows sticking from their limbs.
Maximus spoke to Quintus through clenched teeth. "Remind the men to keep those sheds soaked with water. They mustn't be allowed to dry out in the least." Quintus nodded and relayed Maximus' orders to his subordinates who passed them down the line. Quintus then glanced at Maximus but he was lost in thought and obviously had nothing else to say. Relations between the two long-time friends had been strained since Maximus' return. The general did not need to use words to indicate that he was disappointed in the tribune's performance. But Maximus' thoughts were no longer with the soldiers under his command. The screams had taken him back to Spain a few months ago when the cries of a small boy had pierced his heart and seared his soul.
Marcus knew that something was amiss. His mother was crying, the workers were sad. Something bad was happening -- he knew it. But he was still shocked that morning when his Papa wakened him to say goodbye. He wrapped his small arms around his Papa's neck and sobbed despite the comforting words and caresses, then screamed in terror as his fingers were finally pried apart and his Papa turned away from him.
The cries of his son echoed in his ears all the way back to Germania, and they haunted him still. Sudden moisture blurred Maximus' eyes and he looked at the sky, blinking rapidly to clear them. Now was no time for weakness.
He drew a deep breath and straightened his back, focusing his attention once again on the activities of his men after a quick glance at Quintus. When Maximus had left Quintus in charge of the legions it had been a test, of sorts, to determine the tribune's leadership ability -- and he had failed miserably. Quintus desperately wanted a promotion to general of one of the legions but Maximus could not make that recommendation to Marcus Aurelius in good conscience. Quintus had advanced in the Roman army as far as he ever would and the next time he asked Maximus about his status he would have to tell him so.
It was not a day that Maximus looked forward to.
