Maximus' Story
Chapter 71 – They meet again
"Maximus. Maximus, it has been too long," said Marcus Aurelius as he clasped the younger man's right hand in both of his own. "It is so good to see you again."
"And you, Caesar. You look well." It was a lie. The emperor had aged greatly since Maximus had seen him last. The lines in his face had deepened and his hair was almost completely white. It floated around his face in thin wisps.
He seemed smaller somehow -- slightly stooped -- and he moved more hesitantly. The emperor was aging and it broke Maximus' heart to see it.
"I'm sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances, Sire."
"Sit down, Maximus, sit down. I was in Gaul with my daughter when I heard of the raid. I wanted to send Lucilla home but you know how obstinate she can be. She refused to leave me and is now in this camp. My daughter has hovered around me like a nursemaid since my wife's death."
"I was sorry to hear of the empress' death, Sire."
"Yes, yes, but she was very ill and it is better that she did not suffer."
Maximus nodded.
"And how is Rome's greatest general?"
"Ah... I... am well, Sire, but I would feel much better if this terrible event had not happened." Maximus still found reference to his 'greatness' unsettling.
Marcus nodded as a servant poured wine for the two men. Maximus took a sip from an ornate golden goblet while he glanced into the dark corners of the expansive tent. She was not there.
"I'm sure you are hungry. We'll dine soon and get some much-needed rest tonight then go to Colonia tomorrow. How long does it take to get there?"
"About two days, Caesar." Maximus hesitated. "It may not be wise to take your daughter there, Sire. The stench is overwhelming and there is the risk of disease."
"Don't worry, she won't join us." Marcus smiled. "I can put my foot down when I have to, you know. Even with her."
Maximus smiled briefly, not sure if he felt relieved or disappointed.
"So, tell me about the unfortunate events at Colonia."
Maximus relayed what he had seen and what Licinius had told him. "I suspect that General Solinus' tent was deliberately set ablaze to distract the guards and lure the soldiers from their quarters."
Marcus scowled. "Deliberately?"
"Yes, I--"
"Father?"
Two male heads swiveled as one towards the tent door.
"Come in, my dear. Maximus is here. I know you're anxious to see him again."
Maximus rose and turned to face the door, his head bowed, unwilling to meet her eyes until he had to.
"There is no need for such formality, Maximus. Or should I call you General Maximus now?" Lucilla asked as she halted just inside the door.
"My Lady, you may address me whichever way pleases you." Maximus finally straightened. Oh... she was beautiful. He had forgotten how beautiful.
Auburn curls tumbled down her back and over her shoulders, pulled high off her face and secured with golden bands studded with tiny jewels. Her creamy skin was flawless, her sparkling eyes deep green, and her lips tinted soft rose. She was as slender as ever and her gentle curves were accented by the blue silk ribbons that wrapped around her body, securing the drapery of her fine woolen stola.
"Well, you are certainly every inch a general but I prefer to think of you as a friend, Maximus."
"I am indeed that, my Lady."
Marcus beamed as he watched the two stand at opposite sides of the tent, their eyes riveted on each other.
Maximus did indeed look magnificent in his armor, cape and furs. Lucilla could well imagine him leading thousands of men into battle, just as she often imagined him holding her gently in his strong arms. "I never had the opportunity to thank you personally for responding so quickly and efficiently when I asked you to defend Rome from Cassius' plot to overthrow my father. It eases my mind to know that we can rely on a man like you."
"It was my honor as well as my duty, my Lady." Maximus bowed again and kept his head lowered as he glanced meaningfully at the emperor.
Taking the hint, Marcus intervened. "Maximus was just describing the raid on Colonia and his suspicions about the events surrounding it."
"May I stay, father?"
"If you wish. Sit over here by me, my dear. Maximus, take your seat and continue, please."
"Yes, Caesar." There was no possible way that Maximus could avoid her. She sat right beside her father and he could see her clearly when he looked at the emperor. He tried to keep his eyes on Marcus but they strayed towards
his daughter who sparkled and twinkled in the flickering golden lamplight.
Maximus couldn't remember what he had been talking about.
Marcus smiled fondly at his flustered general and prompted, "You believe that someone set Solinus' tent on fire? Why?"
Maximus cleared his throat. "It's too much of a coincidence that General Solinus' tent caught fire at the exact time the Germanians were waiting to scale the walls. They needed a distraction and the fire provided it."
Marcus nodded. "Continue."
"It is possible that a tribesman fired a lighted arrow over the wall from a tree but that is extremely unlikely at night. I think that the fire was started by one of our own soldiers. General Solinus may even have been already murdered."
"A traitor?" asked Lucilla, truly shocked.
Maximus looked straight at her. "Yes."
"But what would a soldier have to gain by doing such a terrible thing?" she continued.
"A substantial share of the loot; a place of honor with the tribesmen that he couldn't attain within the army." Maximus shrugged. "Who knows? There are soldiers in every northern legion who speak Germanic languages and soldiers who act as scouts. One of them may have turned traitor for reasons known only to him. I'm not sure that the tribesmen would have let him live, though. He was probably slaughtered along with the others."
Lucilla studied Maximus as he outlined his thoughts. He was a mature man, now, and much more serious then he had been over ten years ago when she had last seen him. She longed to see his cheeky smile again, hear his deep laugh and see his blue eyes crinkle in mirth; to see him the way he had been before destiny had forced them in opposite directions and each had borne their duty to the empire in very different ways. To see him the way he had been when they had professed their young love for each other.
She had thought her fantasies about Maximus would finally die once she saw the real man again -- that he could never fulfil the impossible standards of her dreams -- but the rapid beating of her heart as she watched him talk to her father, gesturing with his large expressive hands, told her for sure now that she still loved him. If anything, he was more magnificent than ever as he carried the responsibility of the northern region of the Roman empire on his broad shoulders. His presence was overwhelming. It filled the room.
Lucilla glanced at her father. He adored Maximus too. She could see it in his eyes as he watched his general. He never, ever looked at Commodus with such love. Lucilla was jolted sharply from her musings when her consciousness locked on the word 'punish'. "What?" she asked, confused.
"Are you tired, my dear?" inquired her concerned father.
"No, no. What did you just say to Maximus?"
"That the Germanians must be severely punished for what they have done.
Maximus has agreed to lead a raid into enemy territory to punish the appropriate tribesmen."
Lucilla felt like someone had thumped her viciously on the back, driving the air painfully from her lungs. Enemy territory? "Do you think that is wise, father?" She addressed Marcus but her eyes were on Maximus. "It sounds extremely dangerous." She turned her worried gaze to her father. "I hope you are not planning to join him."
Marcus laughed. "My dear, you obviously were only half listening to our conversation. Maximus has already made it quite clear that he doesn't want to be responsible for my old body on this raid. I will stay at his camp."
That was only half of what Lucilla wanted to hear. "Father, do you think it wise to risk the life of Rome's most valuable general? Is this raid that necessary?"
"It is very necessary and Maximus is the only man who can lead it. That is the end of this discussion. Lucilla, please go and see if our meal is ready."
She turned stricken eyes to Maximus who was regarding her with curiosity.
Could he read her thoughts? Did he know how she felt about him? She rose swiftly and exited the tent in a swirl of silk, wool and gold before he could peer any further into her mind.
The two men remained quiet for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts.
Maximus stared into the red liquid in his goblet, twisting it back and forth between his fingers.
Marcus watched him fidget. "She still cares for you very much, you know," he finally ventured. "And... I may be wrong... but I think that you harbor similar feelings for her."
All movement ceased as Maximus locked eyes with Marcus. "Sire... I am married."
Marcus waved his hand in irritation. "Yes, yes, I know that. But since when did a man's marriage mean that all thoughts of other women are erased from his mind? Especially one he once loved... and maybe still does?"
Maximus remained stubbornly mute, his eyes back on his wine, his jaw set in a hard line.
Marcus sighed as he studied the young man he wanted more than any other to be his son-in-law. It was not the first time he regretted granting Maximus permission to marry all those years ago. "Is your marriage still happy?"
"Yes, Sire." Maximus had no intention of going into any more detail about his wife and sons and deceased daughter.
Marcus rose and smiled as he extended his hand to Maximus, placing it on the younger man's shoulder when he stood. "Alright, alright. I won't annoy you further by pursuing that avenue of thought. Come, let's eat and relax and talk about other things for a while."
Dinner had been far from relaxed, though, as Maximus was placed so close to Lucilla that their arms sometimes brushed as they dined. He excused himself at the earliest possible opportunity, citing fatigue, and headed for his tent across the praetorium.
"Maximus?" the voice whispered from the shadows behind him.
He pretended he didn't hear and kept walking.
"Maximus!" Lucilla made sure he would hear her this time.
He stopped but did not turn around.
"Come here, please."
Did he have to obey her? She was the daughter of Rome's emperor but did that mean that he had to obey her? He didn't move.
"Still as stubborn as ever, I see," said Lucilla as she moved into the open to stand face to face with him, their torsos almost touching. "I merely wanted to thank you for discouraging my father from accompanying you in the raid."
"He's not up to it anymore, my Lady. We travel at night carrying only the barest of provisions. It's difficult and dangerous."
"Yet, it must be done? You must risk your life for Rome's honor?"
"Yes."
His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. Lucilla reached for his right hand. He started to draw it away but she grabbed his wrist and pulled it to her, prying open his fingers when they curled into a fist. Her thumb caressed his palm and her fingertips, his knuckles. She was pleased to feel his hand relax and hear him draw an uneven breath. "You hold a grudge a very long time, Maximus."
"I hold no grudges, my Lady."
"Call me Lucilla, like you used to."
He tried to withdraw his hand but her other hand gripped his wrist like a vice and she pulled it back, continuing her caress until his fingers wrapped around her thumb, forcing her to stop.
She laughed softly. "Maximus, call me Lucilla."
He refused.
"Please."
He remained mute.
Irritation made her reckless. "I order it." Oh, this was not going the way she had hoped it would. She moved closer to him but he stepped back then gave his arm a mighty yank, tearing his hand from her grasp.
"Lucilla," he hissed then turned away.
"Maximus, if you won't talk to me right here and now I'll have Praetorians drag you from your tent for an audience with me. I'll do it and you know I will. I'll have you chained if I have to."
He didn't doubt it for a minute. He straightened his shoulders and forced his tone to be calm and courteous as he faced her again. "What is it that you need so urgently to discuss, my Lady?" He noticed three of Lucilla's female attendants cover their giggles as they ducked back behind a curtained doorway. He hoped they were enjoying the entertainment.
"I... I wanted to thank you for your immediate response to my letter about Cassius--"
Maximus raised his chin and let sarcasm flavor his words. "You already thanked me for that."
She ignored him. "I also want to talk to you about my brother."
"Commodus? What is your brother up to now?"
Lucilla rubbed her arms under her cape. "Maximus, it's cold out here. Won't you come inside?" she coaxed.
"No," he whispered firmly and emphasized it with a shake of his head.
"My mother's death upset Commodus more than anyone even imagined it would.
He spends his days sulking or taking his grief and fury out on slaves. I... I fear he is slipping into madness, Maximus. He's very unstable, but my father is too engrossed in his reading and writing and warring to see it.
One reason I am here... is because I needed to get away from my brother for a while. He... he...," she swallowed hard.
Her dejected tone expressed a great deal more than her words, and despite his efforts to remain neutral, Maximus felt concern for her. "Have you discussed this with your father?" he asked gently.
"Yes, but he's not concerned about it. He dismisses my fears as unfounded and frivolous."
"What can I do about that?"
"My father listens to you. If you tell him what I have told you, he will listen."
"He will also know that I have not seen Commodus lately so my information would not be based on personal observation."
Lucilla moved close to him again and clutched his arms just under the shoulder tabs of his cuirass. "Then come to Rome and see for yourself."
Maximus smiled at her for the first time since he arrived at Rapax legion, but it was an ironic smile, not the tender one she longed for. "I have too many responsibilities here, Lucilla, to visit Rome."
"Let another man lead the raid and return to Rome with me." He felt her thumbs caress his biceps in a tantalizing motion.
So that was it. This was all a ruse to get him to Rome. "How do I know that what you say is even the truth?"
Her fingers tightened on his arms, her nails raking his flesh. "You'll never trust me again, will you?"
Blue eyes glared into green. "No."
Instead of drawing back as he expected, Lucilla moved even closer and whispered against his mouth, "I did what I had to do." As her lips brushed
his he abruptly turned his head aside and her kiss was lost in his soft beard. Undaunted, Lucilla crushed her breasts against his brass cuirass and tickled his cheek and ear with her tongue, all the while grasping his arms securely, her sharp nails holding him motionless. She was well aware of the strength in those arms -- that he could break away easily if he so desired -- but he seemed as transfixed by their broiling emotions as she. Slowly he turned his face back to hers and found her lips with his own. He grasped her hair in one hand, painfully at first, then gently as his fingertips explored her curls, finally digging deeper to find her scalp. His kiss reflected the movements of his hand: forceful, then gentle as his tongue caressed her lips, then invasive as it thrust deeply into her open mouth, possessive and probing. His other arm reached under her cape and pressed her hips firmly against his, showing her clearly how much he wanted her. Lucilla whimpered as years of longing flooded her groin and turned her legs to water. Her hand found his hair then grasped his neck, frustrated that his back was covered in armor. She reached as far inside the neckline as she could, her other hand pushing up from under his cape until she found the bare, steaming flesh at his waist.
Maximus maneuvered her into the shadows with his body, backing her against a sturdy post. "Is this what you want from me?" he demanded angrily. "Is this really why you want me in Rome?" His hand found her breast and he teased the taut nipple, pinching and pulling through the thin fabric while his mouth nuzzled her neck.
Lucilla gasped, barely understanding his words. "No... yes..."
His mouth found hers again as both hands cupped her buttocks. Kicking her legs apart he ground against her almost painfully. "You made that offer once before, don't you remember?"
She fumbled with the buckles at the sides of his cuirass, desperate to feel his entire body pressed against hers.
He shoved her hard against the post. "Remember?" he demanded.
"I don't... I don't..." She had loosened the buckles just enough to wiggle one hand inside and spread her fingers on his chest above his pounding heart when they were startled by four Praetorians who passed within fifteen feet of them, talking loudly, not noticing the passionate couple because their eyes were focused on Lucilla's lovely attendants.
Maximus dragged her hands off his body and grasped her wrists in one fist, then pulled them above her head and held them against the post. "You can have any other lover you want. I'm not available." Maximus growled and he released her so suddenly that she almost collapsed. Grasping the post for support, she watched him whirl away, his cape spreading like the wings of a bat before it wrapped around his body then swung into place behind him.
"But I want only you," she whispered as her attendants surrounded her, much to the confusion of the Praetorians who looked from the women to the rapidly retreating general.
Early the next morning Lucilla stood miserably in a cold drizzle grateful that the rain disguised her tears, as Maximus and her father sat astride their horses, prepared to depart for Colonia. Trumpets heralded the start of the journey and the heavy gates swung open. She watched the golden eagle standard disappear, followed by the purple and gold flags of the emperor.
She watched black-clad Praetorians flank her father as he turned in his saddle to wave goodbye to her. She watched Maximus nudge his horse into action then cast her a brief glance, his eyes full of regret before he looked ahead again, his face grim. She watched him ride through the gate and out of her life once more.
She would leave shortly thereafter for Rome, her fantasies about the general on the black stallion the only thing to warm her on her long journey home.
Chapter 72 – The cave
Maximus crouched behind the thick, tangled brush, his sword clutched in his hand. He wore light armor and all vestiges of a general were missing. The two hundred men behind him, though, had no doubt who was in charge.
It was mid-January and very cold again. The ground was frozen but little snow had fallen making the conditions for the raid ideal. They would leave no footprints. They had been on the enemy side of the river for three days now, sleeping in caves in the mountains during the day and moving only at night. They had skirted village after village, looking only for those belonging to the Marcomanni warriors, not interested in harming innocent people. The general had made his stance on the matter very clear before they had even crossed the river. They were to seek revenge on those who had killed their men, not on their families or on other tribes. Maximus knew some innocents would die as always happened in this kind of operation, but he had strictly forbidden indiscriminate killing or rape as a tool of revenge despite its long history as such. The penalty for any man who disobeyed him would be swift and severe.
Maximus separated the brush slightly and peered at the village that lay in the river valley below them. Everything seemed to be quite normal: people moved about the evening campfires tending to daily chores. Children dressed
in layers of scruffy fur chased each other in and out between the wooden buildings as their mothers scolded them.
"How many would you guess are down there?" Maximus asked Julius, the legate from XV Primigenia legion.
"Hmm... maybe three or four hundred at most. Hard to tell how many are in the buildings. I don't see many men."
Maximus nodded in agreement. "The ones I do see are elderly. The warriors are obviously elsewhere at the moment so we'll have to be patient until they come back.
"Are you sure this is the right place, sir?"
Maximus nodded again. "Look over the door of the meeting house at the north end of the village."
Julius gasped. "The eagle standard of Germanica II."
"That's right. A nice trophy on display for all to see. This is the place alright." He glanced behind him at the hillside seemingly devoid of human life. "Tell the men to return to the cave a few at a time then send Jonivus to me."
Within minutes the engineer's son was by his side, thrilled to be of service to his general. "Jonivus, I need you to do a job for me. I'm going back to the cave with most of the men. I need you and three other scouts to sneak closer to the village and let me know when the warriors arrive home. It may take a while so you'll have to be patient... and very, very careful. You must not, under any circumstances allow them to see you. If you are captured we may not be able to rescue you."
"Yes, sir. I understand.
"Here, take my wrap." Maximus shrugged out of the black fur and draped it around the young man's shoulders.
"I don't need it, sir."
"Yes, you do. It'll get very cold when you've been out here for a while. You need it more than I do. I'll be stretched out in front of a nice cozy fire in the cave." Maximus ruffled the boy's unruly ruddy hair affectionately then slipped into the shadows without a sound.
There was little conversation inside the cave. All of the men had been specially selected from a variety of legions for this raid because of their skills but Maximus knew few of them personally. He would brief them again before the raid started, but until then, most slept, their grunts and snores magnified by the hollow cavity of the cave.
Maximus stared at the low fire and watched the sparks spiral upwards before they fizzled, only to be chased by more. He shifted to get more comfortable on the hard ground, but gave up, resigned to the stiff back that the damp,
stone floor of the cave would certainly produce. He lay on his side with his head propped on his forearm and let his mind drift where it would. An auburn-haired, green-eyed temptress immediately invaded his thoughts, her indistinct and filmy image cavorting before his eyes, beckoning him. Maximus blinked rapidly, hoping to banish the vision, but Lucilla still tormented him.
He was disgusted with himself for the way he had treated her that night weeks ago. She had started the seduction, that was true, but he hadn't tried very hard to put a stop to it and -- by not doing so -- had encouraged her.
He couldn't fool himself into thinking that he had been anything other than a very willing participant, ready to make love to her despite his irritation at her attempt to entice him to Rome. Ten years ago she had tried desperately to convince him to join the Praetorians and become her secret lover, and she seemed still intent on that mission despite his exalted position within the army -- and his marriage.
Maximus sat up and jabbed at the fire with a stick, sending another spray of sparks dancing into the darkness. How far would it have gone if those Praetorians hadn't happened by? Would he have taken Lucilla right there in the praetorium against the post as his body urged him to do, or would good sense have prevailed? He didn't know the answer to that and it unnerved him.
Lucilla seemed to be the only person in the world who could break through his moral barriers and entice him to a place he didn't want to go.
Maximus drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them to conserve body warmth, still staring into the flames as if entranced. Should he write to her and ask her forgiveness for what he did -- or for what he didn¹t do?Should he tell her that he had almost turned his horse around and galloped back to her arms, leaving her father to travel on to Colonia alone? Should he confess that every night since their encounter he had tossed in his sleep with dreams of her, plagued with intense, brutal sexual frustration?
Maybe he should go to Rome after this warring season was over. He had never seen Rome and it seemed a proper thing for a general in the Roman army to do. And she would be there... waiting for him...
Was it possible to be in love with one women but want another so badly? Even worse, was it possible that Marcus was right and what he felt for Lucilla went beyond mere physical longing?
Despite his love for Olivia, Maximus sometimes wondered what his life would have be like if he had accepted Lucilla's offer ten years ago. Would he be happy in Rome? Would she have grown tired of him or he of her? He couldn't imagine himself being content living in a city -- even Rome -- but he didn't really know because he had never tried it.
Why was he starting to second-guess his choices in life? Maximus stared into the darkness beyond the fire and felt about as lonely as he ever had in his life. He felt like he was the only person alive, condemned to live forever in darkness and solitude, and he struggled with a deep-rooted discontentment with every aspect of his life. He was a general. So what? What great joy did that bring him? He was married... but his family was so very far away...rarely there when he needed them most. Marcus Aurelius loved him like a son, but he had no real father. He was a friend of many but a confidant of few.
His position as general kept him apart from others by the very nature of the decisions that he had to make -- decisions of life and death.
Many people admired him but he wasn't sure he understood why. He felt like a fraud. He was nothing but a low-born provincial farmer...
Maximus rose quickly and groped his way along the damp, cold walls of the cave to the entrance. His discontentment was taking his thoughts to dangerous places and he needed to clear his head. Outside, he leaned against the rugged rocks and breathed deeply to steady his emotions, his steamy breath creating a soft cloud that quickly dissipated only to be replaced by another. He looked up at the new moon and wondered if Olivia was looking at
the same moon... or Lucilla.
He wondered if men and women in the village were looking at the same moon.
Men and women whose lives he was about to destroy.
He desperately needed time away from this place. Maybe Rome...
"Sir! They're back, sir."
Startled, Maximus whirled to face Jonivus, the distraught look on his face startling the boy. Maximus quickly replaced it with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Good man. How many are there, do you think?"
"Lots. Maybe five hundred." Jonivus looked at him quizzically. "Are you alright, sir?"
"I'm fine. Are they all armed?"
"Heavily, and they've got Roman swords and shields."
Maximus patted Jonivus' shoulder. "Well done." He liked this boy -- well, hardly a boy. He must be twenty or so. "Go get some sleep while I brief the men."
"I'd like to go with you, sir."
Maximus shook his head. "You don't have enough experience yet for a mission like this. Besides, you are far too valuable to me as a scout. Get some rest."
Maximus stood alone and stared into the darkness, listening to the cold wind gust though the barren branches -- the only sound this winter's night. A forlorn sound that seemed to herald the bloodbath that would commence within hours.
Chapter 73 – Aftermath
Maximus stared at the blood dripping down his arms. He followed its stream with his eyes as it trickled in little rivulets from slashes on his forearms, over his hands and off his fingertips, the droplets landing with a soft plop on the lifeless face of the man at his feet, blending with his blood before the combined volume soaked into the earthen floor, staining it crimson.
Oblivious to the screams inside and outside the low-roofed wooden building, Maximus stood still, recovering his strength after his battle with the leader of the Marcomanni, whom he had startled from his sleep. Although smaller than his counterpart, Maximus had the advantage of surprise, speed and skill. The man had lunged for an axe hidden under his straw mattress and swung it with all his might at Maximus' head while his wife wailed and screamed for help. But the other tribesmen were fighting to save their own lives and couldn't come to the aid of their leader. The viciousness of the struggle was evident in the blood-splattered walls and the clothing of the two leaders, also stained deep red, and by the heaving shoulders of the man still standing.
Hysterical, the tribesman's wife shrieked at Maximus as she cowered in the corner, her two children shoved protectively behind her. She buried her sobs in her hands then looked up again and reached out an unsteady hand, beseeching the Roman warrior to let them live. Maximus raised both hands, indicating that he would take no further action. He glanced once more at the lifeless eyes at his feet then stepped over the body, well aware that he could just as easily be the man on the floor. With one last look at the tribesman's wife Maximus pulled open the door and stepped into the night.
The ground was littered with Marcomanni dead. Roman soldiers wandered throughout the camp, prodding the bodies to ferret out men who faked death and finishing off those who were mortally wounded. Sobs of women and children rose from inside the meeting house which was guarded by two soldiers, the door bolted from the outside. Small fires beneath many of the wooden buildings rapidly gained momentum, fanned by the cold wind. The flakes that had started to fall would not be enough to douse them.
Maximus shouted to the nearest soldiers. "Put out the fires!"
"Sir? I thought we'd burn the village."
"No. The women, children and elderly still need places to live and food to eat. We leave the village standing."
"But General, they destroyed our camp!"
"There were no women and children inside our camp, soldier. Now, do as I ordered."
A number of soldiers stared at each other in disbelief then reluctantly started to kick dirt on the flames. Julius approached Maximus.
"They don't like that decision, sir," he said quietly.
"I don't care, Julius. They'd feel a lot differently if it were their families inside that hall. Those people will have a hard enough time surviving this time of year without their men as it is."
Julius nodded in agreement as he looked at the carnage. "We did a good job."
"We did. How many tribesmen died?"
"We counted five hundred and thirty-nine, sir."
"And our men?"
"So far, forty-six -- hardly any at all."
"What do you mean 'so far'?"
"We can't account for three, sir."
"Are many badly injured?"
"A few. Looks like you could use some medical attention too, General."
"Most of this blood isn¹t mine. How many civilians were killed?"
"About two dozen. Some old men who thought they could help their side, eleven women who took up weapons, four little boys, one girl."
Maximus rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing the blood on his face even more. "I'll have a look around, Julius, while you ensure that the fires are doused. Then round up the men. I don't want to get caught on this
side of the river when word of this slaughter gets out."
"Yes, General."
Maximus could see almost all of the common area from where he stood so he headed behind the huts to investigate if any of their men had been injured and overlooked. He refused to leave until everyone was accounted for, dead or alive. Still carrying his sword, he poked at piles of refuse and leaves, pulled some logs off woodpiles and scattered terrified sheep and goats as he stalked through the barnyard.
He had walked half-way around the camp before he found the three missing soldiers. Occupied, they failed to see him. They had a flaxen-haired girl of about twelve stretched out on the ground, her arms and legs held wide by two men while another viciously raped her, crudely encouraged by his two accomplices. The terrified child had long since ceased to struggle and lay with her eyes squeezed shut against the pain, her mouth open in a silent scream.
She didn't see the Roman general's sword swing down in a vicious arc towards the neck of the man on her left side; she didn't see his head bounce and roll as his body fell backwards, blood gushing from the gaping neck. She
didn't see the man on her right hold up his hands in front of his face only to lose those along with his head in another savage swipe of the general's sword.
She didn't see her attacker rise to his knees, the blood draining from his penis as fast as it did from his face as he stared at his executioner in silent supplication. She only opened her eyes when she heard the man scream, the noise cut off abruptly as a sharp jab of the sword severed his spine in a sickening crunch and he fell backwards, lifeless, his trousers still around his ankles.
Maximus threw his bloodied sword aside and dropped to his knees, gathering the terrified child into his arms, holding her protectively as he mumbled words in gentle tones. He knew she couldn't understand him but hoped that
his tone would convey that she was safe now. He covered her thin, bare legs as best he could then rose to his feet, pressing her against his chest.
He took one step towards the meeting house then stopped abruptly. Julius stood beside the hut, his face chalky as he looked from Maximus to the bodies on the ground.
Maximus remained silent, defiantly refusing to justify his actions to anyone.
"Ah... we... we've got all our dead and wounded rounded up. The men didn't want to leave the dead to be... mutilated by the tribeswomen."
Maximus nodded.
Badly shaken by the executions he had just witnessed, Julius looked again at the corpses on the ground.
"Leave them," growled Maximus.
"But--"
"The tribeswomen can do what they want to those bodies. They do not deserve to be called Roman."
"Yes, General."
The little girl whimpered and Maximus cuddled her closer. "Bring one of the woman to me here. Hurry!"
Julius stumbled slightly in his haste to leave the terrible scene but arrived back moments later with a tribeswoman escorted by two soldiers. Her horror as she eyed the decapitated bodies was replaced by confusion when she realized that the men were Roman. Then she looked at Maximus and the child in his arms. He held out the girl to her and was relieved to see understanding flash in her eyes. She opened her arms to accept the child then nodded once to Maximus and hurried away, the little girl's long blonde hair streaming out behind them.
Maximus stood for many quiet minutes staring at the empty, black space where they had disappeared, quickly becoming obscured by the thickening snowfall.
"Sir?" the legate finally asked.
"Julius, lead the men south and cross the river at the nearest possible place."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll be right behind you. Go."
Julius hesitated to leave him. "Sir--"
"Go," Maximus repeated quietly.
Alone now, Maximus dug inside his tunic and pulled out two little figures that always nestled close to his heart. He felt a pressing need to hold them now. He raised first one, then the other, to his lips and kissed them.
Maximus watched until the last Roman left the village then climbed the two steps to the door of the meeting house. Standing on his toes he wrenched the standard of Germanica II from it's place of dishonor, splintering the gray wood as the golden staff came away in his hand. Then he unbolted the door and turned away, walking slowly towards the gates of the village, his sword swinging at his hip and the standard clutched in his right hand. In his left, nestled the little figurines.
The door creaked open and women peered out. The snow was falling heavily, almost obliterating the dawn. They looked at the retreating figure and exchanged hurried words. Some women started down the steps gathering up
anything they could find that might be used as a weapon, shouting threats and obscenities at the lone Roman. But one woman pushed to the front of the group and stared at the Roman general with recognition. She spread her arms in front of the angry mob and spoke a few sharp words to stall for time.
Silently she urged Maximus to move faster but he did not increase his measured pace. Instead, he stopped and turned, his piercing blue eyes focusing on the one familiar face in the group. He nodded slightly and she returned the greeting. Then he raised the golden eagle straight and high over his head and turned, dissolving like a ghost into the swirling, white snow.
Chapter 74 – Vindobona
Maximus rode through the gates of Vindobona to a warm welcome from his men.
"Good to have you back, General," one man shouted. "You've been gone for months, sir."
"It's good to be back, soldier," replied Maximus sincerely. He scanned the familiar, friendly faces and wondered how to tell them that he would be leaving again soon. He was here only to collect his mail and sleep in his own bed for a few nights before striking out again to visit other forts, and to lead other men into more battles. And when the wars finally abated he wanted to return to Spain. He needed to see his wife and son.
He reached down from his horse and clasped hands that stretched out to him.
News of his decisive victories in battles in western Germania spawned by the Roman raid on the Germanian camp had reached Vindobona and his men were proud of him. He may be commander of all of the northern legions but he was their general.
He dismounted and tossed his reins to a waiting soldier, not wasting any time in heading towards his house, Hercules trotting at his heels. He glanced around the camp as he walked, pleased to see that everything was in order. Quintus had done a good job.
Maximus slowed his steps as he spotted a child in the distance. A young boy, it seemed, kicking a ball with some soldiers. That was highly unusual. Camp was not a safe place for children and the soldiers were not permitted to
bring their families here. Maximus hoped that Quintus hadn't softened in that respect. He decided to deal with the matter later and continued in the direction of the house. Hercules stopped, though, and stared at the child, his ears pricked in curiosity. "Come on, boy. I'm sure you'd love to play with him but you'd probably just terrify him." After another moment's hesitation the big dog followed his master but he was soon distracted again, this time by the engineer Jonivus who stood just outside the praetorium. He patted his knees as he called the dog to him.
Maximus grinned at Jonivus as he passed by. "Since when are you and Hercules such good friends?"
"I've always liked the doggie, sir." Jonivus clutched the animal's collar to keep him from following Maximus. "It's good to see you back, sir, and thank you for taking care of my boy." Maximus just waved a response as he continued walking.
He tossed his furs onto his bed and yanked at the ties of his cape gazing at the cot he craved -- his own for a change . Something was different about his room and his hands ceased their tugging. It was an odd smell. He sniffed then looked up. Hastily, he lit two lanterns to multiply the light of the one already burning.
He stared at the wall behind his bed for a moment then reached out a tentative hand to trace the colored shapes with his fingertips. His home. He was looking at his home in Spain as seen from the road; his house perched on
a hill, surrounded by ripe fruit trees and fields of crops ready for harvest. Ponies played on a far hill. A stone wall surrounded the property with tall poplars lining the road to his house. One giant poplar stood proudly by the gate, delicate wildflowers encircling its trunk, the place where his daughter was buried. The sky was azure blue with dazzling white clouds and the whole scene was bathed in golden sunlight. The mural covered the entire wall. How could this be? How could young Polybius know what his home looked like unless he had gone through Maximus' belongings and seen Olivia's drawings?
Would he have dared to do such a thing?
Confused and irritated, Maximus turned and headed for the door only to stop abruptly and gape at the wall to his left. It was covered in a life-size, partially finished portrait of himself, perched upon one of his black stallions. The detail in his uniform was exact -- the cuirass, billowing cape and furs perfect -- and his likeness uncanny. His figure was proud and regal, but a slight smile at the mouth and eyes portrayed the real man underneath the trappings of a general. Behind his figure were the blue Danube River and the purple mountain peaks and verdant forests of Germania.
"I thought that one wall should depict where you are, and the other wall where you should be." The voice came from the doorway.
Maximus' breath caught in his throat and the blood drained from his limbs.
He startled to tremble and tears blurred his vision, distorting his fresco figure.
"Maximus?" Olivia hurried to him and he caught her in his shaking arms, burying his face in her hair as he wept unashamedly. His wife murmured soft words of love and kissed his cheek, ear and neck, her own eyes glistening.
Maximus' voice was a hoarse whisper. "How did you know I needed you?"
"I knew because I needed you as much. Oh, Maximus, I missed you."
Neither of them noticed Cicero smile as he gently closed the door to the bedroom or heard Hercules whine as he was restrained from charging to Olivia.
"When--," Maximus started.
"I've been here thirty-six days worried sick about you while you were off fighting battles." Olivia cupped his face and kissed away his tears. "And don't you dare tell me I shouldn't have come."
"You shouldn't have but I won't say it." Maximus hugged her close and struggled to control the trembling caused by acute fatigue and the shock of finding his wife in Germania. "The gods heard my prayers." Maximus studied her face. "You look beautiful."
"You look awful, and you smell like a horse," Olivia teased him. "I'm going to draw you a bath." She made no move to leave his arms, though.
"That must have been Marcus I saw playing with the soldiers. I didn't recognize him, he's grown so much."
"He'll be five his next birthday, you know. No longer a baby."
"No, he's not. I missed that part of his life, didn't I?"
"You can make it up to him. He's so excited about seeing you."
"Will he remember me this time?"
"Maximus, as I was painting your portrait on the wall he corrected me if I got anything so much as slightly wrong. He remembers you well."
"Who's watching over him?"
"His uncle Persius. I persuaded my little brother to accompany me on the journey despite his misgivings. He knew I'd strike out on my own if he didn't."
Maximus simply nodded, his cheek resting against her hair, his eyes closed.
He sighed deeply. "Do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"Paint you and Marcus into that mural of our farm, standing by the large poplar?"
"Of course," Olivia whispered as she stroked his cheek. "Do you like them?"
"More than I can say. They're amazing." Maximus squeezed her so tightly that the air rushed from her lungs.
When Olivia regained her breath she said, "It's been a difficult time for you, hasn't it." .
Her husband sniffed then whispered, "Yes. Sometimes I feel that I am expected to be a god rather than a man."
"A man who is god-like." asked Olivia.
"I'm just a man desperately in need of my family. Nothing more."
"Well, your family is here for you, my love, and we'll be here as long as you need us to be."
"No, you can't stay that long."
Olivia was perplexed. "How long?"
"Forever."
Her chuckle was smothered by his kiss, a deep kiss that seemed to last forever...
Maximus put his fingers to his lips as he walked towards the group kicking the ball, indicating his wish to observe his son unnoticed for a moment. His child had grown so much -- no longer the toddler he had seen last but a sturdy little boy who could run and jump and kick with grace and strength.
He grinned at his men as they smothered their usual expletives when they missed the ball in honor of the general's young son and beautiful black-haired wife, both of whom had managed to charm almost every soldier in camp as the two anxiously waited for him to return.
Persius kicked the ball to Marcus but deliberately aimed past the boy and it bounced to Maximus who stopped it with his booted foot. His eye on the ball, Marcus turned to intercept the kick back and was surprised when the man simply stood there. Slowly, he looked up the body attached to the foot -- at the long cape with furs, the molded brass cuirass and wine-red tunic. The man crouched and his familiar bearded face came into view.
"Papa?" Marcus asked, not sure if he was seeing his real father or just a personification of his wishes and dreams.
Maximus nodded and smiled, opening his arms to envelope the boy who ran to him without hesitation.
More than a few men suddenly had to turn away to blow their noses as their general clutched his son to his heart, his large hand almost obscuring the boy's head. After a few quiet and tender moments, Maximus wiped his eyes
with his fingers then hoisted his son to his shoulders and extended his hand to his brother-in-law. "Persius."
Relief washed over the younger man's face. "Nice to see you again, Maximus.
Nice to see you're not angry, too."
"I should be. That was a very dangerous trip for my wife and son, but I'm glad they are here. Far more glad then you could ever know. Thank you for accompanying them."
"Well, if I hadn't Olivia would have gone off on her own, you know."
"I know." They both clearly understood the determination in the woman's character.
"As it is, Titus and the others didn't know anything about it. I sent them a letter as soon as we got here and I got a very, ah... angry one back."
"I'll write to Titus explaining that everything is alright."
"Thanks." Persius placed his hands on his hips and looked around the camp.
"Nice place you've got here. Everyone is treating us very well. It helps when you're related to the general, I suppose.
Maximus laughed. "I suppose." It felt so good to laugh again. He glanced up at his son and Marcus put his chin on his father's forehead and grinned back down at him. Soldiers watching couldn't help but notice the boy's resemblance to his father when he smiled despite generally having his mother's looks. "Come, Marcus. Let's go find Mama." Maximus grasped both of his son's ankles securely and started for the praetorium where Olivia was
waiting for them.
"Where's your horse?" asked the boy.
"He's in the stable."
"May I see him?"
"Now?"
Marcus nodded.
"He's just had a long, hard journey and he's very tired."
"Mama painted him on the wall."
"I saw that."
"She painted you riding him."
"I saw that too. Mama paints very well, doesn't she?"
Marcus nodded, his conversation with his father continuing as Maximus strolled towards the stable with long, sure strides.Cicero stood beside Olivia in the gateway of the praetorium. "You see," he
said to her. "I told you there'd be nothing to worry about.
Olivia glanced at the servant with a smile. "It would have destroyed Maximus if Marcus had hesitated to go to him." She released a huge pent-up breath.
"Let's get his bath ready, Cicero. I don't intend to sleep tonight with a man who smells like a horse.
Chapter 75 – The Bath
Marcus struggled to balance his papa's plumed helmet on his head but finally gave up as the weight proved to be too much for the little boy and it tumbled to the mosaic floor with a thunderous crash.
"Marcus, what are you doing?" called his mother from the bathing room.
"Nothing," came the unconvincing reply.
Olivia and Maximus glanced at each other and Olivia rolled her eyes before she rose from her place beside her husband who was relaxing in his bath. She dried her hands on her stola as she headed for the bedroom to investigate what mischief the boy was up to.
Maximus took a sip of his wine then smiled in pure contentment as his wife's laughter reached his ears. She soon re-entered the room followed by their son who was draped in Maximus' cape and heavy gray wolf furs. The long wine-red cape trailed out on the floor like a train and the furs dragged behind him on the sopping tiles. Marcus was closely followed by Hercules who kept stepping on the cape, almost pulling it off the child's slender shoulders.
"The floor's wet. Be careful with those," admonished Olivia.
"It's alright. Those garments take quite a beating because I wear them in all kinds of weather and in battles too. I even sleep in them sometimes, depending on the circumstances. He can't hurt them." Maximus grinned at his son who proceeded to march around the tub with his head and knees high, the way he imagined a general would.
"Where's your sword, papa?"
"My sword? My sword isn't for playing with, son. It's very dangerous."
"But I need a sword to be a general."
Maximus eyed the child with great affection as Olivia worked strong fingers into her husband's shoulders and neck. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "Tell you what, Marcus. Tomorrow I'll see what we can do about a uniform for you."
"Promise?" asked the elated child.
"I promise." Maximus sighed again as his wife discovered knots of tension in his muscles and proceeded to work deeply into them. He groaned slightly when she found a particularly tender spot.
"Does that hurt?" she asked, concerned.
"No... it feels great."
Olivia kissed her husband's cheek and nuzzled his ear with her tongue. "I don't see too many more scars since I last saw you.
"I'm afraid my scars are in places people can't see."
Olivia was puzzling over this comment when Marcus piped up again.
"Papa, look. Look at me!" The boy had found a cushion and clutched it between his knees as if riding a horse as he attempted to gallop around the bath trying to juggle cushion, cape and furs all at the same time. At least he didn't try to climb on Hercules -- yet.
"Would you like to go riding tomorrow, Marcus?" asked Maximus.
"Yes! Yes!"
"We'll take a ride around camp on Scarto. How does that sound?"
"Yaaaay!" shouted Marcus as he galloped back into the bedroom.
"He's so proud of you," said Olivia as she rubbed soap into Maximus' hair, massaging his scalp. "On our journey here, whenever he saw a soldier, he announced to all within hearing that his papa is a general. He wants to be just like you."
"My life must seem very romantic and exciting to him." Maximus reached a hand back to caress his wife's long, silky hair.
"It does."
"It isn't. It's hard and terrifying and lonely. I don't want to encourage him to be a soldier."
"Maximus, please don't destroy his dreams about you. There is plenty of time for him to discover what your life here is really like."
"He would cower in horror if he really knew. So would you."
"Maximus, let him enjoy his fantasies for a few more years. He sleeps at night dreaming of a man in a magnificent uniform on a grand black stallion leading thousands of shining soldiers."
"I want to be real to him, Olivia. Not a fantasy come to life."
"You are real to him. At the farm I show him the ordinary trees that you planted, the ordinary carts that you built, the ordinary bed that you sleep in, the ordinary clothes that you wear. He knows that side of you. But he doesn't understand this side." Olivia gestured at the walls of the bathing room, indicating the camp beyond. "He doesn't understand his papa, the general. So he makes up safe and secure fantasies about this life to still his fears when you are gone for such long periods of time. Do you understand?"
Maximus nodded slowly.
"Let him have those fantasies. Otherwise... he'll tremble and cry in his bed at night."
Maximus twisted around to face his wife and saw the raw emotion in her eyes. "Like you do?"
"Yes, like I do. I can't pretend to even begin to understand what it is to be a general, to fight bloody wars against barbarians... to kill people and to lead your own men to their possible demise. I just pray every night that you'll survive it all and come home for good some day, physically intact, mentally stable, and ready for a life with your family."
"I'm ready for that now. It just isn't possible, though." Maximus kissed his wife's hands. "Olivia, I'm sorry to put you through that."
"I knew who and what you were when I married you, Maximus. I understood the deal and I accepted it as a condition of loving you. It's difficult but I manage. You are worth every minute of any anguish I have suffered. Now close your eyes while I rinse the soap out.
His hair and body squeaky clean, Maximus settled back into the tub and Olivia wrapped her arms around his shoulders then tucked her hands under his strong arms. She nipped the nape of his neck. "The water's getting cool," she murmured.
Maximus closed his eyes, luxuriating in the sensation of the soft breasts pressed against his back. "It's fine. It's better than bathing in a cold creek."
She pressed her cheek against his. "You know what frightens me the most?"
"What?"
"That you have become so accustomed to the frantic pace and overwhelming responsibilities of life as a general that you will find the life of a farmer boring and dull by comparison."
Maximus started to protest but she shushed him.
"I know you long for home, Maximus, but how many years would it take for you to grow restless? You are a man accustomed to making decisions of life and death, not simply deciding when to harvest a certain crop or when the olives are ripe. You are a man admired by thousands, maybe millions -- not merely his family. You are a man who consorts with emperors and officials, not just local tradesmen and farmers. You have become accustomed to a certain level of tension and excitement in your life and I fear that you have grown to need it, whether you realize it or not. I'm not sure that you could be totally content without it. Right now your home in Spain is a reprieve for you, but how will you feel when there is nothing else?
Maximus was quiet for a long while before he said, "I married a smart woman. When I am here I long for Spain. But when I am in Spain I start to miss camp and my soldiers after a while. Am I destined to be a man never fully satisfied with where he is and what he has?"
Olivia pulled his head sideways and kissed his lips tenderly. "We will simply have to have so many children that they will keep you busy and content."
"I long for that," Maximus whispered. "Where is Marcus sleeping tonight, by the way?"
"In the other bedroom with Persius. I've been sleeping in your bed and Marcus has been with Persius. I wanted to get him used to that arrangement before you got here. We'll be very much alone tonight." She sucked his lower lip between hers and nibbled it. "And Hercules can sleep in there too."
Maximus returned the kiss. "Smart wife. Speaking of Marcus... things are awfully quiet in the bedroom, don't you think?"
Olivia was on her feet and gone in a flash. Maximus pulled himself from the tub and hummed happily as he wrapped a towel around his hips and used another to rub the dampness from his hair. He chuckled when he heard his wife's voice from the next room.
"Marcus, what have you done? You know you are not supposed to touch your papa's belongings...."
Maximus laughed out loud as he dried one foot then the other and padded to the bedroom to join his wife and mischievous son.
