Maximus' Story
Chapter 76 - Intimacy
Bright stars twinkled between the boards in the shutters of the bedroom windows, unnoticed by the couple on the bed as Olivia and Maximus succumbed to their passion for the third time that night, finishing what their searching fingers and tongues had started. She rode astride him this time, her legs on either side of him, her hips rotating in sensuous circles guided by his hands, her long tresses sweeping his chest which rose and fell with increasing frequency as his ardor intensified. His open palms slid up her sides and grasped her full breasts, his thumbs caressing her rosy nipples which were taut with desire. Long months of abstinence for both of them made their coupling all the sweeter, an act rare and precious like a glittering gem, seldom found but worth the searching.
His hands knotted in her hair and he pulled her lips to his, crushing her breasts against his chest as their tongues entwined. He rolled her over and, for the second time that night, they tumbled off the edge of the narrow bed to land on the woven carpet beside it, Maximus absorbing the impact with his shoulder and hip. "Damned bed," he growled as he positioned Olivia beneath him and balanced his weight on his elbows and knees.
She wrapped her long legs around his waist and gasped, "Obviously not designed for lovemaking. I find that reassuring."
Maximus tried to prolong their passion by slowing the pace but they were both beyond the point where that was going to be effective. "You have nothing to worry about. My men think I'm mad in my refusal to sample what is offered me."
"My handsome husband attracts the ladies?"
"It's the uniform," groaned Maximus as he felt Olivia's body tighten around him convulsively. Her laugh quickly spiraled to a feverish cry and she bit his shoulder hard, effectively stifling the sound but pushing her husband past the edge of control. She grabbed his buttocks to press him into her as he moaned, his hips bucking uncontrollably, then his arms gave out and he collapsed, barely having the strength to keep his weight from crushing her. Olivia held him and stroked his damp hair and sweating neck until his breathing calmed, then she wriggled out from under him allowing him to drop to the warm floor in exhaustion, his cheek pressed against the carpet and his eyes closed.
As spent as she was, she sat upright with her back against the bed and admired his naked form with the heart of a woman and the eye of an artist. He was beautiful. With her eyes she traced the curves and hollows of his back as it rose and fell in an even rhythm, roaming over and around every carved muscle from the broad shoulders to the tapered waist. She loved the spot where his spine disappeared between his firm, rounded buttocks, and the two deep dimples on each side of his lower back. She gathered her hair in one hand and leaned over and brushed the indentations with her lips. Her husband did not stir. She examined his limbs next -- the straight, strong legs, as perfect as any that graced marble statues of Greek athletes. She kissed the back of his knees. His arms were as flawless as his legs, heavily muscled and terrifyingly strong from years and years of swinging swords and hoisting shields. She kissed the teeth imprints that she had left there.
Olivia reached behind her and pulled a blanket off the bed then covered them both as she snuggled up against him, her finger tracing lazy patterns on his back. He turned his head to face her and she smiled into his droopy eyes. "I thought you were asleep."
"Almost. I thought I'd stay awake to find out where you were going to kiss me next."
Olivia laughed. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Olivia adored the deep rumble of his voice. "Are you sorry I came here?" she teased.
Maximus was slow to reply. "Not yet," he said.
Olivia was startled by his answer. "What do you mean 'not yet'? You mean you will grow tired of me?"
"Never. No, what I meant was that Germanic tribes are escalating their attacks in Roman territory. They are random but a pattern is emerging and they are definitely heading east."
"This way."
"Yes. It's quite possible that Vindobona will be attacked in the coming months, or weeks."
Olivia shrugged. "We'll be safe."
"No one is safe." Maximus turned to his back and gathered her into his arms. "I've seen some terrible things, Olivia. I've done some terrible things -- in the name of the emperor and for the glory of Rome. It's not that I believe that what I've done is wrong, or that the emperor is wrong in asking me to do it. It's just that so many innocent people die. I think it is important to hold on to the territories that we've got but Marcus Aurelius wants more. He wants to push further north once we've stabilized things along the border. He has his eye on mines rich in minerals and gems. How many lives is it all worth? Is it worth one Roman family losing a father or husband or brother? Is it worth one Germanic woman burying her innocent young son because of an injury suffered during a siege?"
Olivia pulled herself up on one elbow and looked down at her man. "Oh, Maximus, I wish I could help ease the weight on your shoulders. I never meant to make your burden even heavier by coming here."
"By being here you make the weight both lighter and heavier."
"Well, then... it evens out."
Maximus smiled but quickly sobered. "I can't stay for too many more days. My guess is that the Germanians may strike the Castra Regina area next and I have to go there. Places where camps and villages are close together are particularly vulnerable."
"I understand." She lay down again with her head on his shoulder.
"Do you? Do you really understand how much harder it will be for you to know that I am in battle -- that when I leave you I'm going to war? When you were far away in Spain you could imagine me safe. Now you'll know otherwise."
Olivia didn't reply.
"Do you know why the floor is so warm?" asked Maximus.
Olivia was puzzled by the sudden change of topic. "Yes. Your chief engineer, Jonivus, was pleased to show me the whole operation. He's quite clever."
"He is that. But what he doesn't realize is that he inadvertently created the only really safe hiding place in the whole camp. I'm going to have the fire put out -- so if we tumble onto the floor again, it will be cold." Maximus smiled briefly. "I'm also going to have the area under the floor stocked with non-perishable food and water as well as blankets. At the first sign of trouble I want you and Marcus to go there and stay there until I, or one of my men, lets you out. I'm going to give Quintus those instructions and I expect you to obey them without question. Your life and Marcus' may depend on it."
"What about Persius?"
"I don't know yet. I may want him to be with you or I may need him for other things. I haven't decided yet."
"He's not a soldier. He has no training."
"I realize that, but he knows horses and he may be needed in that capacity." Maximus kissed the top of his wife's head. "If something happens to you or Marcus my life may as well be over. I didn't realize how difficult it was to lose a child until it happened. I would never survive the loss of another, and certainly not the loss of my beloved wife."
Olivia raised her head and looked into her husband's eyes. "Do you still think of Maxima?"
"She's never far from my thoughts."
"Nor mine. It's easy to say that we'll have more children but we'll never replace her."
"No, she will always be lost to us."
Olivia caressed his face, running her fingers across his brow and down his cheek to his beard which she stroked gently. "Most men wouldn't care, you know -- about the loss of a daughter. Especially one they never saw."
"I'm not most men."
"No... no, you certainly aren't." Olivia snuggled her head into his shoulder again. Minutes later she whispered, "I'm the luckiest woman alive."
He didn't reply and Olivia realized that his breathing had deepened into a regular, slow rhythm. He was finally asleep.
Maximus stirred, signals of pleasure from his body finally penetrating his brain, but not enough to fully waken him. His head lolled to the left, then to the right, his eyes closed. His arm moved to grasp his wife but it fell across his chest, catching only air. He drifted back into deeper sleep then stirred again and moaned slightly, his brain not alert enough to interpret the signals from his senses. His eyelids finally fluttered and his legs shifted but something blocked them from moving far. A groan escaped him and suddenly he was fully conscious of warm hands, lips and a wet tongue as Olivia explored and caressed his lower body. Already exhausted from his long journey and three rounds of lovemaking, he had no energy to respond beyond a purely primal level and his hand fell back to his side when he attempted to reach for his wife. His lips parted to draw more air into his lungs as his breathing intensified, every breath forming a sigh of pure pleasure. His toes flexed and his legs stirred restlessly, his thighs burning. His sighs deepened to throaty groans as his buttocks contracted unconsciously and his hips lifted from the floor. He felt a hand slide under him, encouraging his passion but holding him securely in position. He wanted to reach for her but his arms refused to obey and, instead, flung out to his side and over his head where his fingers found the carpet and twisted it into tight balls. His head pitched back, the tendons in his neck taut with exertion. His body was no longer his but completely under the command of the woman at his hips and she mercifully propelled him to the release his body and mind craved, his prolonged groan of satisfaction resembling a cry of pain. Maximus sagged to the floor completely drained, his breathing ragged and his limbs trembling. He was beyond exhaustion. If the tribesmen attacked Vindobona now they'd find the general as weak and helpless as a babe. Totally vulnerable. As his senses calmed and his heartbeat slowed, his rambling thoughts dissolved into darkness and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep akin to unconsciousness.
Olivia caressed his face until she was sure that he was at rest, then once again covered him with the blanket. She kissed his slightly-parted lips gently then whispered, "It's not the uniform, my love. Believe me -- it's not the uniform," before she settled in beside him and joined him in sleep.
Chapter 77 - The Tour
Maximus squeezed his lids together and raised his hand to block the unwelcome glare. Who was shining the lantern in his eyes? He rolled his head to the side then opened one squinted eye, preparing to chastise Cicero for disturbing him so early. The bedroom was illuminated by shafts of brilliant sunlight that peeked around the shutters on the windows and they struck the couple lying on the floor at such an angle that Maximus realized with a shock that it must be well past mid-day."Oh, shit!" he muttered as he gathered his sleeping wife in his arms and gently placed her on the bed. She barely stirred. He had slept through his meeting with Quintus and his officers, and failed to keep his promise to Marcus about the uniform and the ride. He rummaged through his wardrobe to find a clean tunic then dressed in haste, running his hands though his hair to tame it. He was still lacing his second boot when he heard his son talking to Persius on the other side of the door.
"But, where is he?"
"He's still asleep, Marcus. He'll take you riding when he wakes up."
"When will that be?"
"Soon."
"You said that last time. I want to show him my--" Maximus pulled the door open, startling the pair. Somewhat sheepishly, he smoothed his tunic and ignored the cheeky grin of his brother-in-law. Cicero was standing by the door to his bedroom, smiling too. Maximus normally rose at dawn. He was never going to live this down.
Persius took the first swipe. "Maximus, you're looking a little casual this morn--, oh pardon me... this afternoon."
"Papa. Look what I've got. Look what I've got.!" Ignoring Persius, Maximus crouched to inspect his son's outfit. It was a hastily-made but quite respectable imitation of his own general's uniform. The cuirass was a piece of thin wood painted to resemble Maximus' own cuirass and tied on with ribbons. He recognized the material of the cape as coming from a torn one that he had discarded recently but that Cicero had obviously kept. The cobbler had quickly stitched together a pair of boots for Marcus and a small wooden sword swung from a rope at his side. Over his shoulders hung strips of ragged fur from some unfortunate animal which Hercules sniffed and nuzzled, as puzzled as Maximus about its origin.
"Where did you get this?" asked Maximus, impressed with the speed with which it had been assembled.
"Cicero!" exclaimed Marcus. "And Uncle Persius helped too."
"Well, we had to do something to keep the boy occupied while he waited for his papa to wake up for the past...," Persius pretended to be counting, "seven hours."
"You're not wearing yours," Marcus exclaimed, disappointment clear in his voice as he eyed his father's plain brown tunic.
"I'll put it on soon, Marcus. Papa was very tired this morning and he overslept--"
"That's an understatement," chuckled Persius.
Maximus turned his best general's glare on the young man who refused to be intimidated now that his seemingly infallible brother-in-law finally revealed a chink in his armor. "Marcus, I know I promised to take you riding and we'll do that very soon. I just have to talk to a few men, first. I have to do that first," he repeated, hoping that the boy would understand. His son's face fell. Maximus looked to Persius for help but the young man merely shook his head slightly as if to say, "You're on your own now, General."
"All right... here, you can ride on my shoulders while I find Quintus."
"Is Quintus that man with the scars between his eyes?" asked Persius innocently.
"Yes. Why?"
"He's long gone."
"What?"
"He was here about five hours ago but Cicero wouldn't let him disturb you. He came back about four times before he decided that he had better things to do. He said he'd meet with you tonight... if you were awake by then."
Maximus rubbed his beard in exasperation. "Marcus, stay with Uncle Persius while I put on my uniform. Mama is still asleep and I don't want to wake her. Stay out here, all right? I won't be long." Maximus looked at Persius. "Look after him for a few more minutes," and when Persius seemed disinclined to co-operate he added, "and that is an order."
Persius bowed irreverently then took the youngster's hand. "Come on, Marcus. Your papa can meet us at the stables. Let's saddle up Scarto!"
Maximus watched them leave then looked at Cicero who was leaning against his door. "Thanks, Cicero, for handling Marcus' uniform... and letting me sleep, although I have a feeling that I'm going to pay dearly for that little luxury."
"Good to see you finally up and about, General! We were wondering if we should come in and rescue you, Sir."
"You're looking a little tired today, General. Lots of duties to perform last night?"
Maximus tried to ignore the good-natured teasing from his men as he walked Scarto slowly around the camp, Marcus perched proudly between his thighs like a miniature version of himself. He had hoped that his formal general's attire might deter the soldiers somewhat but that hope was quickly dashed. Maximus often seemed so utterly perfect in everything he did that most men thought it quite comforting indeed to know that their general could succumb to very base human needs and desires after all -- just like them -- and they intended to take full advantage of the situation because they might never see it again.
The general described every aspect of the camp to his son in simple terms and answered all of the boy's questions while smiling resignedly and nodding to acknowledge and accept every witty comment or sly wink or broad grin from his men. Maximus soon spotted Quintus walking in the distance and urged Scarto to a trot to catch up with him.
"Well, General Maximus," said Quintus, "and General Marcus." Quintus saluted the little boy and Marcus giggled as his papa showed him how to return the salute. "Nice to see you make an appearance while it's still daylight."
"Don't you start in at me too."
"Oh... are the men giving you a hard time this afternoon?" Quintus asked with heavy emphasis on the last word.
"During the last hour I've had to submit repeatedly to the same verbal mauling. And each man seems to feel that he was the first to think of saying such a clever thing."
"Well...," Quintus moved close to Maximus' knee, as Marcus was distracted for the moment, and spoke behind his hand. "The men think you don't get laid enough and that last night was long overdue."
Maximus glared down from his perch upon the huge stallion. "Thank you for stating the obvious."
Quintus grinned. "Are we still having our briefing?"
"Yes, I've got important information. Assemble the officers in the praetorium just after dinner, will you?"
"We'll be there."
"The camp looks terrific, Quintus. The men are in good shape and good spirits. You've done a great job."
"Thank you," the legate replied, truly appreciative of the comment.
Maximus turned Scarto and started to head towards the camp gate.
"Maximus?" Quintus called after him.
He pulled the stallion to a halt and looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"They're doing it only because they're so fond of you. If they weren't, they'd just ignore you. Take it all as a compliment."
Maximus digested that for a moment then smiled and nodded slightly. "Thanks, Quintus." He nudged Scarto to a walk again and started to describe the importance of the gate and the guards to a little boy who hung on his papa's every word. Maximus sighed and prepared himself for another verbal onslaught as the men guarding the gate caught site of him approaching and their faces broke into broad smiles.
Maximus greeted his tribunes and centurions by holding up his hand for silence as he walked into the room. "Gentlemen, I have taken more mocking today than I have ever suffered in my entire life. So, if you would like to get your shots in do it now, please, so we can get down to business. He stared down each man one by one and watched their smirks fade.
"Good," said Maximus as he sat down and prepared to start the briefing. "Now, the frequency of attacks on Roman camps and villages is steadily increasing and so is the intensity. So far we haven't lost any battles but we've lost many men including officers as these men seem to be the prime targets. The tribesmen hope to weaken the army by leaving it leaderless." A murmur swept the room and Maximus waited for it to subside. "I have noticed a pattern in the attacks. They seem to be skipping camps that are isolated and attacking those that are closely linked to villages, as we are. They attack the villages at night, and when the soldiers come pouring out of the camp to defend Roman citizens, the Germanians get between the soldiers and their camp. They have managed to steal a number of Roman uniforms and weapons. The tribes are also heading steadily eastward and I suspect that Castra Regina may be the next target. I'm going there the day after tomorrow."
"Will you take centuries with you, Maximus?"
"No. It's not that I don't need the support, it's that I cannot afford to weaken this camp. I think that Vindobona may be the ultimate prize. It's the largest camp and attached to the most prosperous village. When I'm gone I want the guards on the walls doubled and a unit patrolling the river. The trouble is, it's a long river and they could cross anywhere. Every man is to be on high alert at all times. The attack might come in weeks; it might not come for months." Maximus looked at Quintus. "I want the furnace in my house cooled and the area beneath the floor stocked with all the supplies that my wife and son will need to spend maybe two weeks down there. At the first sign of trouble that is where they are to go and they are not to come out until everything is absolutely safe."
Quintus nodded. "We'll take good care of them, Maximus. You have nothing to worry about in that respect."
"I'm leaving Cicero here to oversee that task," Maximus said to Quintus, then he addressed the group again. "This camp is as ready as it could ever be for war. We're in good shape thanks to all of you and that relieves my mind considerably. Castra Regina is only a day and a half away so I will keep in touch daily by courier. Are there any questions?"
The men shook their heads then one voice piped up. "Just one, Sir."
"Collatinus?" Maximus acknowledged one of the centurions.
"It's actually a suggestion, Sir. Maybe you and your wife should sleep apart from now on so you'll be awake enough to lead the Legion when the attack comes."
The stone walls rang with masculine laughter.
"You just couldn't resist that, could you?" said Maximus, and he joined in the laughter.
Hours later Maximus prepared to join his wife in their bedroom when he stopped to inspect a note that was pinned to his door. In Persius' broad scrawl it said, DO NOT DISTURB BEFORE MID-AFTERNOON BY ORDER OF GENERAL MAXIMUS.
Maximus sighed heavily as he ripped the note from the wood and crumpled it in his fist. "Cicero!" he shouted.
Cicero poked his head around his door. "Is there something I can do for you, General?"
"Yes. You can drag me out of bed at dawn tomorrow no matter how tired I am or how much I resist. Is that clear?"
"It sure is, Sir." Cicero couldn't resist one last grin. "Have a good night, Maximus."
Chapter 78 – Letters from Rome
Maximus had been gone for eight days and still Olivia could not seem to settle into any sort of routine. It was difficult to do so at camp where her existence was restricted almost totally to the praetorium. She played games with Marcus but he preferred the company of his uncle Persius who was able to move around the camp far more freely than Olivia. Restless, she would start one activity just to drop it and look for another, accomplishing little. When Cicero came to inspect Maximus' clothes for mending and she claimed that task for herself, glad of any activity that allowed her to sit quietly and think about her husband. She fingered the wool of his tunics and capes, and the linen of his undergarments, finding comfort in touching something that had touched him.
The next day the light was bright so she summoned the energy and motivation to work on the unfinished murals, wanting to have them complete for Maximus when he returned. She mixed her paints and carefully added herself and Marcus to the farm mural, standing by the large poplar tree as her husband had requested. Then she focused on the large portrait mural of General Maximus, gazing at it with tremendous pride -- not pride in her work as much as pride in her husband. She wanted it to last for all time so that future generations of soldiers would look at it and understand the great man behind the uniform.
One night, after painting for a almost a full day, she tucked Marcus into his bed and asked Cicero to watch over him, then she strolled outside the house into the praetorium. The day had been unseasonably warm and the bedroom stuffy. She lifted her hair off her neck and let the evening breezes cool her off. As she let her hair slide thought her fingers she gazed at the new moon and wondered if her husband might be looking at it too. The night air was refreshing so Olivia sat down by the door to the stone house, stretched out her legs and yawned. The camp was a lonely place without Maximus. The praetorium was a relatively small portion of the camp -- an area joining the general's home with the tents of the important officers -- and she quickly grew bored with it. She was accustomed to roaming large farms, going wherever she wanted to go with total freedom, and the restrictions here were tiring her. She longed for someone to talk to.
The women who peopled the camp were hardly the sort to socialize with the general's wife and the officers tended to treat her with distant respect. The men addressed her as "Domina" and nodded politely whenever she passed, but none stopped to talk to her. Even Maximus' closest friend, Quintus, kept his distance. She had tried a few time to engage him in conversation but had been totally unsuccessful. He preferred to remain private and seemed shy, and unsure of himself around her.
The doorway of his tent was directly across from Maximus' house. As she sat on the steps, looking toward it, Olivia could see the glow of lamplight flickering from behind the canvas.
Quintus. He was Maximus' closest friend, but Olivia knew almost nothing about him. Searching through memories of conversations she had shared with her husband, she recalled that he had been recently married, and that he had passed the last winter at home in Rome, but beyond that, she knew very little.
A figure passed in front of the light, casting a long shadow against the tent wall, and Olivia wondered idly if Quintus were inside, or if it is were merely a servant arranging the room.
She didn't have to wonder long. The legate pulled back the doorflap and fumbled with his clothing. Squinting through the darkness, Olivia could not tell what he was doing, until she heard the distinctive sound of him peeing onto the gravel. He swayed slightly as he did so, spraying the side of his tent with urine too.
A muffled curse.
Was he drunk? Olivia's sudden laughter shocked Quintus so much that his stream stopped and he turned to stare at her stupidly, his tunic still bunched around his waist, his jaw slack. Yes... he was drunk, she decided. "Don't worry, Quintus," she called out. "I was raised with four brothers. Nothing any man would do could shock me." She laughed again.
It took his numbed brain a few long moments to digest what she had said and that gave her time to saunter towards him. He hastily adjusted his clothing and bowed to her, grabbing the side of his tent for support. "A thousand pardons, Domina," he said uncertainly. "I forgot you were here."
"Yes," replied Olivia, "it seems that most people have forgotten I am here." She tilted her head upwards to look at the stars, then sighed. "Quintus I am bored and it is a beautiful night. Please come out and talk to me. We can sit on the steps of the house."
"I'm sorry, Domina...," he reached behind him for the tent pole, clutching only air at first, and stumbling slightly,"...but I must--"
Olivia was not above resorting to a little blackmail. "Quintus, I'm surprised to see you so... unsteady. I thought the camp was on high alert and that you are in charge." She left the implied threat that she would tell Maximus unsaid, but gave him a meaningful look.
Quintus held her gaze briefly, measuring his options. A cloud seemed to pass over his features. "Maximus would never do anything like that, would he?" He was speaking to himself, and there was more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
Olivia was startled at the tone. "Quintus? Is something wrong? Are you angry with Maximus about something?" No answer. "Quintus?"
She sighed at his stubbornness, and then decided to try another tact. "Come and tell me about your life. It seems so strange that you know Maximus so well but that we are strangers. He speaks of you often, you know." She smiled. "Good things!" she added hastily as Quintus' frown deepened. "He told me that you passed last winter in Rome and that you were married. Come and tell me about your wife. What's her name?"
Rather than relaxing, Quintus' mood seemed to darken. "Her name was Antonia," he said tonelessly.
"Was?" Olivia tilted her head, frowning.
Quintus dug the toe of his boot into the gravel, digging a shallow trench in the loose rocks, then he turned and disappeared inside his tent. Olivia made an exasperated grunt and turned to go just as he reappeared in the doorway. He was carrying a letter in one hand and a jug of wine in the other. He thrust his head back and let more of the liquid flow down his throat.
"Quintus, what has happened?" Olivia took another step forward, her gaze fixed upon the letter. "Have you had bad news?"
"My wife is dead, Domina. She died months ago. I just found out today."
Olivia gasped, and took a tentative step forward, reaching for him but he pulled back into the tent. Undaunted, she followed him inside, unconcerned that her actions could be misinterpreted. She stopped just inside the door.
The contents of the tent had been turned upside down. Chest drawers lay scattered on the floor, clothing was everywhere, and a stack of letters was piled onto the narrow cot, their crumbling wax seals staining the white sheets like blood.
Olivia soaked in the scene, then she turned to the man, uncertain of what she should do or say. "Quintus, I am so sorry," she began uncomfortably, painfully aware of how inadequate her words must seem. "It must be terrible to lose your spouse..."
Quintus shrugged and took another gulp of wine, his face unreadable.
Olivia was confused by his reaction. Was he in shock? Was he so drunk that he was beyond feeling? She cleared away some of the letters and tried to ease Quintus into a seat on the edge of the cot. "Tell me about it..."
Quintus stared at the letters as he spoke. "We got married. She got pregnant. I returned here. She had the baby. She died." A crazed smile rested on his features for an instant and then it was gone. "There's nothing else to tell."
"Did she...did Antonia... die in childbirth?"
Quintus nodded, running his fingers along the rim of the wine jug as he continued to stare. "They had to cut her."
"To save the baby?"
"A daughter."
Olivia looked at her hands, "I am so sorry, Quintus. It must be terrible to lose someone you had for such a short time."
"Don't feel sorry for me, Domina. I don't. I met my wife at the altar. " His voice grew soft. "I didn't even know her." Quintus looked directly at Olivia, speaking forcefully again. "That's how it's normally done, you know. People don’t marry for love -- except Maximus, of course." The bitterness was back.
Olivia watched him carefully as he drained the contents of the first jug, and then rummaged beneath his bed for another, removing the cork with his teeth.
"But, you have a child--"
"A daughter." His jaw tensed. "Maximus has a son, of course."
Olivia took an unsteady breath, memories of Maxima springing instantly to her mind. Her perfect, tiny fingers...the gentle curve of her chin...the light, tinkling laughter that Olivia had only ever heard inside her heart. The man's disappointment in his baby's sex was like a slap to the face. How could he say such a thing? He knew that Maximus had lost a daughter -- that he still grieved for her. How dare he say such a callous thing? ."Your daughter lives, Quintus." She said darkly, rising to her feet.
"Domina, sit down."
"No. I don't think I want to talk to you anymore."
"Please... "
Olivia continued walking, trying to contain her own tears as she pushed back the flap.
"Domina...," his voice called after her as she stepped into the night. She tried not to listen as she hurried toward the stairs. "I killed her," he whispered hoarsely.
Olivia turned at last, surprised to find that Quintus was standing in the doorway, watching her. His face was tightly drawn, haunted, as though his copious lubrication could no longer keep his emotions at bay. He was lonely, Olivia realized with a jolt. Frightened. Guilty.
His words still stung, but Olivia tried to push her anger aside and reluctantly returned to the tent. She found a chair near the door and sat very stiffly as his words began to pour out.
"She was seventeen," Quintus said, twisting the letter in his hand, "and beautiful. Someday Clara... that's the baby's name, of course...," he said, catching Olivia's eye. "Someday Clara will ask me about her, and that is all that I will know. Seventeen -- and she bled to death on a cot to have my baby." Quintus started to raise the jug but stopped before it reached his lips, and sat it heavily on the ground, reaching instead for one of the other letters that lay across his bed. Olivia studied them for the first time, realizing from the nearly identical lettering on each one that they had come from the same person.
"I didn't love her." The words were reproachful. "I should have, I guess. I... I don't know, Olivia. Maximus...," instead of darkness, the look this time was confusion, "Maximus does everything so easily... strength... honor... love..."
"You're wrong," Olivia said softly, thinking of Maxima again. "He suffers too."
"Love. I don't even think I know what is means, ...trust? How is that different from what I share with the men? Companionship? I'm never at home. Sex?" He laughed bitterly. "I can get that from the whores." He glanced at the scrolls again. "She said that she loved me..."
At once, Olivia understood that the letters had come from Antonia. Only a few of the seals had been broken.
"I never read them." Quintus seemed to follow her train of thought. "I never read them until tonight. I was...busy." He took a deep breath and met Olivia's eyes. For the first time, she thought she saw tears behind his steely gaze.
"Why?" The question was mournful, but angry at the same time.
"Why?" Olivia echoed.
"Why would anyone love me? I didn't ask her to." A tear trickled down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly, trying to bury the gesture in a swat at an imaginary insect. "I didn't want her to. Why couldn't it have stayed simple... normal...?"
"It's only natural to want to be happy." Olivia's voice was very soft. She thought of the letters that she had sent to Maximus so often...the drawings. How terrible to think that he might not have read them. She began to feel sympathy for the poor, dead girl that she had never known. "Especially when you are so young." Quintus' face was pinched with guilt. His eyes pleaded with Olivia for reassurance. She wondered, idly, if they had ever had a chance at happiness at all. How lucky she and Maximus were. Happiness was so rare and fleeting.
"She must have liked you," Olivia said after a long pause. His face relaxed slightly. "And you... you weren't -- displeased -- with her."
"I liked bedding her," Quintus said flatly. "That's why she's dead."
"It could have happened to anyone, Quintus. It would have happened to anyone. If it hadn't been you..."
"But it was me," he said softly. "It was me..." He was staring again, his eyes as glassy as the jug of wine that rested on the floor.
Olivia sensed at last that the conversation was over. Quintus likely wouldn't remember it in the morning, and perhaps that would be for the best. Moving quietly, Olivia re-corked the wine and extinguished the little lamp. "You need to sleep, Quintus," she said softly. She laid her hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to lie back on the cot.
He obeyed. Sighing with relief, Olivia headed toward the door.
"Seventeen." His whisper carried eerily through the darkness. "Dead."
Chapter 79 – Memories
Maximus turned the letter over and over in his hands trying to guess who it could be from. It had come to him from Rome via Vindobona and he had almost missed it among the usual pile of military missives and the daily message from Olivia. It was early evening and Cicero puttered around the tent lighting lanterns and attempting to make the austere living quarters as comfortable as possible for the general. Adept at anticipating Maximus' every wish, he slid the lantern across the desk to better illuminate the letter as Maximus sat down, his expression reflecting his curiosity. Without looking up the general extended his hand and Cicero immediately filled it with a goblet of spiced wine.
"Everything all right, sir?"
Maximus looked at Cicero, surprised. "Yes. Why?"
"You're scowling at that letter."
The general's face softened and he smiled. "I didn't know I was scowling. I just can't figure out who in Rome would write me a personal letter. The seal is unfamiliar."
"There's only one way to find out," said Cicero, looking pointedly at the papyrus. "Is there anything else I can get you, sir?"
"No, Cicero, thank you." Maximus was preoccupied with the letter again. "I'll read my mail and take supper later." Cicero quietly left the tent as Maximus slipped his thumbnail under the wax, breaking the seal, and settled back into his chair after propping his booted feet on the desk in an uncharacteristically casual posture. He yawned deeply and ran one hand through his short hair, a common gesture when he was tired. The constant waiting for war was taking its toll on his nerves and he was beginning to wonder if he was right in surmising that Castra Regina would be the next target of the tribesmen's wrath.
Looking for a distraction, Maximus unrolled the papyrus and tilted it to catch the light, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small, private smile as he read.
Julia Servilia to General Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Army of the North, many greetings!
Before all, I pray for your health and safety, may the gods protect you from danger and give you strength to fulfill your many duties.
I arrived in Rome after a long and uneventful journey, the emperor¹s legion more than enough to protect us from the roads’ dangers. We met bad weather shortly after leaving you and suffered some delay but I arrived in the city in good health and so did the other women.
After an absence of two years I found Rome a different place than I remembered, even more lively and colorful. The emperor¹s allowance was more than generous, the gods bless him and give him a long life, and I settled in an apartment in a quiet neighborhood. The other women preferred to remain closer to the Forum but it was my desire to live in a more secluded place. On behalf of this, we drifted apart and though being by myself for the first time in my life was strange in the beginning, I have no complaints about remaining alone. As the gods are my witnesses, I needed to be in solitude. My life was uneventful for my first year as a freedwoman and I preferred it to be like this.
During this first year I spent most of my time alone in my apartment and seldom went out but to buy what I needed in the local markets or go to the baths. I never attended the theatre or the games, preferring instead to soothe my spirit with learning, beauty and the books I have wanted to read but I have never been able to for as you know, General Maximus, I was trained for other matters and my education incomplete. I refused to buy a Greek slave to be my tutor, not being able to inflict on others what I had to endure since I was born and what I¹d be still enduring if the gods have not had mercy of me and made our roads cross.
Instead, I hired a skilled freedman, Apollinarius, to teach me and when my spirit was healed I also hired a maid to take care of me and the apartment. It was she who brought another change into my life. She and her husband were the caretakers of one of my neighbors¹ apartments, a wealthy ship builder who spent most of his time in his shipyards and the ports of the empire. This man, his name Marius Servilius Tibullus, came back to Rome shortly after and I met him by chance when going to the market with Nicia, my maid. He remained in the city for three months and soon started courting me. Before returning to his shipyards -- which he had neglected remaining in Rome for so long -- he proposed. I have never thought about myself as a married woman, General Maximus, but you once told me, when I was in great distress, that some day I should find someone special. At this moment, I was not inclined to believe you but you have proved to be the wisest of both us.
Wanting to be true to Marius Servilius Tibullus, I told him I had been born a slave, being only recently freed by the goodness of one great Roman general and the emperor, the gods bless both of you. Marius Servilius Tibullus accepted me nevertheless and shortly after I became his wife, moving with him and becoming the mistress of his estate. As a marriage present, my husband granted me my wish not to have slaves in the household and freed those he had, employing slaves only in his shipyards.
Thanks to Apollinarius’ lessons, I was able to fulfil my new duties and become a suitable wife for my husband. Managing my husband¹s estate and household demands most of my time but I still find some to read and write and enjoy the many beautiful things Apollinarius so patiently taught me. Perhaps, in the future, I will do some traveling although the memory of my last journey is not a pleasant one.
My life is quite different than it was when our roads crossed, General Maximus, a life I had never dreamed about and which I’d never have had, had I not met you. I owe you my freedom and my life, may the gods repay you as I will never be able to do it, no matter how long I live. I remember you in my prayers every day and ask them to keep you in good health and give you a long, happy life.
Deliver at Vindobona to General Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North. Deliver at the camp of Felix III Legion. Maximus re-read the letter then dropped his hands to his lap, a curious mix of emotions flitting across his shadowed face. He rubbed his hand thoughtfully over his beard as he conjured an image of Julia from his memory. He could see her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. Tall, slender with luscious curves, a long, thick curtain of red-gold hair, fair skin and dazzling blue eyes. She had been stunning.
Maximus had made inquiries about Julia through an agent in Rome about six months after her freedom from slavery. He had been concerned about her, being on her own in the world for the first time, and he had been curious to see what path her life had taken. He had hoped fervently that she had not had to resort to selling herself and he was fully prepared to lend whatever further financial and moral assistance she needed to keep her from that life. But, she had simply vanished... the agent had been unable to find her... and this letter explained why.
Julia's beauty had been surpassed only by her keen intelligence and courage, and Maximus wondered what kind of man had enticed her into marriage. It hadn't been an arranged marriage so she had been a willing bride. Julia didn't describe her husband in the letter other than to say that he was wealthy... so maybe that was her motive for marrying the man.
He was probably also young and very handsome...
Maximus tossed the letter aside and busied himself with his other mail trying to squelch the unwelcome emotion gnawing at his stomach. Even though he had sent Julia on her way to Rome knowing that he would never see her again, he had secretly hoped that someday he might. That seemed unlikely now that they both were married.
Disconcerted, he rose and turned his back to the desk. After a few minutes of sorting and re-sorting his other mail but not reading, he tossed it back onto the desk and fingered Julia's letter again. Why had she sent it? The letter was properly formal and courteous, addressing him by his title and rank, but there was also a note of familiarity as she reminded him more than once of their short time together by the Black Sea where they had shared intrigue... and intimacy.
"General? Not enjoying the party?"
Maximus turned to face a luscious redhead that had earlier been locked in the embrace of a gray-haired tribune. "No," he said simply as he started to turn away.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him back with surprising strength then pressed her breasts against his cuirass while her hand encircled the back of his neck and her lips brushed his ear. "I have messages for you, sir." She drew back and smiled into his startled face with soft coral-tinted lips and thickly-lashed brilliant blue eyes. Her flawless skin was like pure cream and her red-gold hair cascaded in thick waves to her hips. Her tunic was white silk shot through with golden strands that glittered in the lamplight. It revealed the tops of her full breasts and was pulled snuggly around her small waist with a golden braided belt. The soft fabric hugged her curved hips, opening at the front to reveal long, shapely legs. Maximus could only stare.
The woman was just a few inches shorter than Maximus and she held his gaze easily. Her voice was slightly husky when she whispered, "Come and sit down, General. I noticed you didn't eat any food." She smiled. "Later we can be more private."
He refused to move. "What's your name?"
"Julia."
"Julia," Maximus repeated but he didn't know why.
She didn't mention children in the letter. Did she have a child? Maximus held the papyrus to his nose and sniffed it. Now what had prompted him to do that?
"General, that leather looks so hot and stiff. Why don't you let me help you out of it." He obediently raised his arms and she deftly worked the buckles. The cuirass soon sat on the floor by the table. "That's better." Julia stepped back to admire him. Maximus now wore a simple wine-red tunic of light wool that barely covered his broad shoulders and fell to mid-thigh, held snug to his waist by a wide, leather belt. His muscled legs were bare except for the laced boots which covered his calves. "It's very hot in here, General. Wouldn't you be more comfortable in sandals? I could find--"
"I'm used to boots. They're fine"
"Whatever you wish." Julia was well aware that many women in the room were looking at her with envy even as they serviced other men. She had no intention of letting them get their hands on this one and she moved her body to block their view of Maximus once he sat down.
Maximus felt very foolish reclining on the couch while a woman fed him but he was determined not to risk her safety by being uncooperative. He played with her hair while she selected small bites of food and brought them to his mouth. He kissed her fingers before she pulled them away. He ran his hands down the silky skin of her arms making her shiver and smile.
Maximus swallowed a mouthful of food and then asked, "Where are you from, Julia?"
She paused with her hand mid-way between the plate and his mouth. "I was born in Rome."
"You're a slave?"
She nodded.
"How did that happen?"
"I was born a slave, sir. I don't know who my parents are." She leaned forward and kissed him, a long lingering kiss. Before she sat back she whispered, "You ask too many questions."
He persisted. "How old are you?"
"I'm not sure. About eighteen, I think."
Maximus sipped his wine as he studied her. She was quite simply the most beautiful woman he had ever seen or imagined and it sickened him to think of her as the plaything of Cassius or any officer who wanted her. He sighed heavily as he thought of the things that she had probably been forced to do in her young life.
Julia fretted. "I'm not making you happy." She ran her hand up his thigh and under his tunic before he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Please, General. They'll know that something's wrong," she whispered urgently. "I'm usually so good at satisfying men."
He loosened his grip on her wrist but did not let go. "I'm married," he said quietly.
"So are half the men here. Cassius is married." Her eyes pleaded with him.
He sighed again. "Come here," he said as he pulled her body on top of his, her legs on either side of his hips, her breasts pressed against his chest. One hand caressed her back, then her buttocks as the other turned her face to his neck. He whispered in her ear. "Julia, I do not intend to risk your life. But understand this, I made a promise to my wife that I would remain faithful and I will keep that promise no matter how difficult it is for me, no matter how much I want you. Now kiss me then we'll go to one of those rooms at the back where conversation isn't so risky." He turned his face to the side and captured her mouth in a kiss that sent her senses reeling, his tongue exploring her open mouth. When he tried to end it she wouldn't let him and locked her mouth on his. She knew that he was aroused but so was she -- and that shocked her. She finally withdrew her tongue from his mouth and gently kissed his closed eyes while he struggled to steady his breathing.
"Maximus," she murmured.
His eyes flew open. "Don't call me that," he growled.
She loved his deep voice. "Why not?"
"It's too... too ... familiar."
"Maximus, I'm lying on top of you. There is almost nothing separating our bodies, and you think calling you by your name is too familiar?" She laughed and kissed him again.
He couldn't think of a reply to that comment and she took advantage of his silence to snuggle against his chest, pleased to hear his heart pounding as hard as hers. His strong arms wrapped around her and held her tight.
"Maximus," she sighed against his chest. "That name suits you. So strong." She lay still for a few moments before she propped herself up and looked into his face, her fingers ruffling his thick hair. "But so gentle." Her tone was slightly incredulous. "Men aren't often gentle with me, Maximus. I don't remember ever being held before."
To Julia's astonishment, Maximus snarled. "You are one of the things that I intend to make Cassius pay for dearly." With that Maximus rolled Julia off to the side and caught her before she fell off the couch, with one arm under her knees and the other under her arms. He hoisted her up as if she were made of air and pressed her to his chest as he headed for a small curtained room, stepping over or kicking aside anything that stood in his way.
Maximus stared blankly at the canvas wall of the tent, the memories of Julia flooding his mind. He could almost feel her in his arms, hear her, smell her...
"Shhhh ..." Maximus had detected a slight movement of the curtain and a tiny ray of light slanted across the floor. Whoever was in the other room was getting curious or impatient. The light disappeared. "Julia, we need to make some sound. Some ... passionate noises."
Despite their dangerous situation Julia couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Then you're going to have to make love to me, Maximus."
"No. I told you--"
"Yes, yes, I'm just teasing. Don't worry, I can pretend. It's something I do a lot, believe me." Julia rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes allowing her breathing to deepen.
"Can you listen to me while you're doing that?"
She nodded and punctuated her breaths with a few gasps.
Maximus continued, "Tell Marcellus that I had planned to stall Cassius until Marcus Aurelius got here but I have no idea when that will be so the plan to kill Cassius is the only one that makes sense."
Julia nodded and produced a husky growl deep in her throat.
Maximus' own breathing started to quicken and Julia smiled in satisfaction when she felt it. "Oh, General," she murmured. "Oh, do that again." She moved her hips against him and he grabbed her buttocks, stilling them, then jerked his hands away as if he had touched fire. Julia softly kissed the coarse whiskers on his neck before escalating her breathing again. She was fully aware that her passion was well beyond pretense. Leaning against Maximus it was very easy to imagine his strong arms lifting her and settling her onto his hips as he ...
"Julia, tell Marcellus to go ahead with his plan and that I will give him the support he needs. To do that, though, I must be nearby when he does the deed. It's very important that he does it - one of Cassius' own men - to show the others ... Julia? Julia? Did you hear me?" Maximus whispered urgently.
"Yes" Her words sounded dreamy and her hips pressed against him again but Maximus knew that her actions were now beyond her conscious control. She was deeply aroused and he was afraid she was losing concentration. He shook her slightly.
"Julia, listen. I am guarded closely. It will be difficult for me to get away from my guards but I may be able to slip out at night with Claudius' help." Maximus glanced at the curtain again and saw it move and in and out in a quick rhythm as if someone were leaning against it and breathing quite hard. Julia's performance was arousing more than herself -- and him.
Maximus took a few deep breaths, struggling for control of his emotions, then in one quick movement he swept Julia off her feet and lay her on the couch, its wooden legs creaking slightly in protest. Maximus stood beside the couch facing Julia, balanced on one leg, and he gently placed his other knee high between her parted thighs. She reached out to draw him to her but he shook his head and grabbed her hands, pulling them away. A little bit of pressure was all it took and she arched her back as she convulsed, crying out his name. Moments later a deep groan emitted from the other side of the curtain. Maximus gnashed his teeth in frustration, the only one of the trio not satisfied.
He could never remember wanting a woman as badly as he had wanted Julia that night... not his wife... not Lucilla. He had ached for Julia. But, he had used her just like any other man, although in a different way and for different reasons. Maximus regarded the letter that was clutched in his hand. Should he reply? What was it she hoped to hear him say? What should he say to her? What did he really want to say to her?
Julia sighed heavily and Maximus could see the tears glistening in her eyes. Her words were hesitant. "What you did to me, was it only because you had to?"
Maximus didn't reply because he honestly didn't know the answer. "Julia, you'll find someone someday. Someone very special," he said.
"Maximus, I'm a slave." Her words sounded slightly strangled as unshed tears tightened her throat.
"When Cassius is gone you'll have your freedom. You have earned it and so have the other women."
"There's only one you, though. And you're taken."
Maximus sat down at the desk and pulled out a fresh piece of papyrus then dipped his quill in ink. He started to write:
General Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, to Julia Servilia, greetings in return.
The salutation written, Maximus was at a loss about what to say next. He stared at the tent wall again, his mind back at the Black Sea.
Julia looked down at Maximus from her perch atop the horse that would carry her to Rome.
"Will I ever see you again?" she asked.
"No," came the simple answer, but Maximus' voice was soft and kind.
She smiled at him. "I didn't think so."
He returned the smile. "You'll be busy establishing your new life." He touched her foot. "You're sure you wouldn't rather travel in the caravan?"
She shook her head, her red-gold waves the identical color of the early morning sun. "No, it feels too confining and I've had enough of being confined."
Maximus nodded his understanding.
Julia hesitated then said, "You don't need to worry, Maximus. I won't tell anyone that I personally know the great Roman general."
A frown puckered his brow. "Why should that worry me?"
Julia stared at a point outside the camp gate. "I don't want to embarrass you."
"Julia." Maximus shook her foot. "Julia, look at me."
She did so reluctantly and he saw tears glistening in her eyes.
"I am proud to know a woman of such character, strength and intelligence. What Cassius did to you was beyond your control. If you had fought him he would have killed you. You know that."
She nodded and drew an unsteady breath then looked into the distance again. "I wish you a very long and happy life, Maximus."
"General?"
"General Maximus?"
"General!"
Startled, Maximus swiveled his head to acknowledge Cicero. "What?" he said stupidly, his mind loath to yield to the present.
"Sir, a scout has just reported that the barbarians have crossed the river about five miles east and are on their way here!"
Maximus dropped the quill spattering ink across the wood and Julia's letter. He rose quickly, his knee hitting the desk and knocking over the pot of ink in his haste to don his uniform. The black liquid saturated his incomplete letter, obliterating the few penned words. Moments later, sword in hand, he pulled back the tent flap inviting a gust of cool evening air to swirl through the small space. It lifted the corner of Julia's letter then scooted underneath to float it off the desk where it drifted lazily into a dark corner before lodging firmly underneath a fold of canvas where the wall met the floor, almost totally obscured by deep shadows.
Chapter 80 – The cellar
"Sir! Sir!" cried the messenger as he raced into the praetorium, skidding as he hit the loose gravel and dropping a hand to the ground to steady himself. He was closely followed by four legion guards with grim faces. The commotion attracted Quintus and three tribunes who had just sat down to their mid-day meal, as well as Olivia and Persius who dashed to their doorways, Olivia's heart in her throat and her child on her hip. This could only be news from Maximus -- or about Maximus.
"Is papa back?" asked a sleepy Marcus who had been snatched from his afternoon nap.
Olivia brushed his damp hair off his forehead. "Not yet, sweetie, now shush... we must listen."
Dispensing with any formality the messenger clutched Quintus' arm, urgently focusing the legate's attention totally on him, then panted out his news. "Sir, I bring orders directly from General Maximus. The attack at Castra Regina was much smaller than expected. The General thinks it was a diversion and that as many as six thousand tribesmen are headed this way. He says that they are already on this side of the river. He wants the village evacuated immediately and the people taken to the caves east of here. He said to let the cavalry do that because he wants them, and all of the horses, out of the camp. They're to meet up with him at the crossroads south of the village. He also wants all of the tents collapsed and rolled up and hidden under piles of rocks so the barbarians can't shoot over the wall and set them on fire. He wants anything made of wood soaked down. He has ordered that all of the infirmary's supplies and equipment be moved into his house." The man gasped for breath but he didn't loosen his grasp on Quintus. "The general wants all of the other soldiers on the wall because the barbarians must be kept out of the camp at all costs. He has a detachment of two legions and they are already heading this way to approach Vindobona from the south. He hopes to trap the barbarians between us and him." He glanced at a whey-faced Olivia. "He orders his wife and son into hiding immediately, sir." Drained, the man finally loosened his grip and stepped back, his shoulders drooping.
Quintus nodded to the tribunes who had heard Maximus' orders as well as he, and they rushed off to relay the commands to the centurions who would prepare their men for the upcoming battle. He then turned his attention to Olivia. "Domina--" he started, only to be stopped by Maximus' wife.
"You have much on your mind, Quintus. Rest assured that Marcus and I will do as Maximus ordered immediately. You must see to the villagers." Without waiting for his response she brushed past Persius and headed to her bedroom trying to calm a fretting Marcus who had not understood the content of the messenger's words but had certainly sensed the tension. She settled her son on the bed, talking to him in soothing tones as she bustled about the room. "Do you remember the hiding place that Papa showed us, Marcus?"
He nodded tentatively, his fingers jammed in his mouth, as he watched his mother gather their clothing. Persius entered the room with blankets in his arms.
"There are plenty of those already down there," she said to her brother, slightly exasperated.
"You can always use more. I've got Marcus' toys too."
"You must gather some of your own clothes, Persius."
He looked directly at his sister and lifted his chin defiantly. "I'm not going with you."
"Persius--"
"No, Olivia. I can be of more use up here. I will come to see you often to ensure that you don't need anything."
"Persius, you are not trained to fight."
"No, but I can move supplies from the infirmary into the house as Maximus ordered. I can be useful." Olivia felt her stomach clench. She had dragged Persius along on this odyssey and now he was at risk of injury... or worse. She could tell by the look on his face that he was not about to capitulate, though. Reluctantly, Olivia nodded her agreement.
Marcus pulled his slimy fingers from his mouth. "I want to stay with Uncle Persius," he stated quite firmly, the hint of a whine in his voice.
Olivia crouched before her son and could clearly see the alarm in his large, dark eyes. She didn't touch him for fear that he would feel the quaking in her arms. "Marcus, Papa wants us to go to the hiding place and that's what we must do. We will be very safe there and--."
"Safe from what?" he asked, moisture glistening in his huge eyes and the corners of his mouth starting to drop.
Olivia groped for words to explain the urgency of the situation without frightening the child even more -- she could hear men already moving medical supplies into the atrium -- but Jonivus chose that moment to make an appearance in the doorway.
"Well, well" he said with a booming laugh. He stood with his hands on his hips and regarded Marcus with a titled head and twinkling eyes. "Have I ever shown you my secret hiding place, boy?"
Marcus nodded solemnly, not in the mood for the engineer's levity at the moment.
"No, not that hiding place. My other hiding place. Oh, it's down there too, Marcus, but it's a place only I know." He entered the room and approached the boy. "Sometimes the gods leave very interesting things down there for me to find... would you like to see it?"
"What kind of things?" The boy's interest had obviously been piqued and Olivia touched Jonivus' shoulder in a gesture of thanks before she continued her task.
Jonivus crouched before his general's son. "All kinds of things. One time I found a sparkling rock!"
Marcus looked decidedly unimpressed.
"Another time I found a magnificent sword that the gods left just for me."
"A sword? Like Papa's?" That was more like it.
Jonivus nodded. "But do you know what the best thing was?"
"What?"
"A kitten. A little gray and white kitten... just for me."
"A kitten?" Marcus' face brightened as he considered this new development.
"Yes, and do you know what? Just the other night I asked the gods for another kitten -- for you... but I haven't had time to go there yet to check. Would you like to help me look?"
Marcus smiled and nodded while turning pleading eyes to his mother for permission.
Olivia's smiled was full of relief. "Go with Jonivus, Marcus, and I will join you very soon."
Jonivus hoisted the boy into his arms, and with a wink at Olivia, headed into Cicero's bedroom to the trapdoor concealed under the bed.
The heavy, wooden trapdoor closed with a firm thud plunging Olivia into darkness. She stood on the middle step of the steep stairs and cringed at the grating noise as Persius shoved Cicero's bed back into place. She felt like she had just been buried alive. Would Vindobona survive the attack? Had she seen her husband for the last time? She sat on the step and wearily rubbed her eyes. She had not anticipated this turn of events when she had hatched her plan to join her husband in Germania. She had thought she understood the perils of his life here but she had understood nothing. Nothing at all. She had never imagined anything like this.
"My lady?" Jonivus inquired gently from the bottom step.
Olivia opened her eyes to find that she could see clearly, now that they had adjusted to the dim light. Feeling weak and foolish, she wiped her eyes and pushed herself to her feet.
"It's quite all right to be afraid, my Lady. Everyone is. Even the most hardened soldier feels the cramp of fear in his stomach before a battle."
"Does Maximus?" she whispered.
"Oh yes, he just contains it so his men will be inspired by his bravery." Jonivus held out his hand and helped Olivia down the remaining few steps. "Come and sit down. I've spent some time preparing this place for my general's wife and I think you'll find it quite comfortable."
"Thank you, Jonivus."
"Maximus asked me to stay with you."
"I'm sure you would be much more content with the soldiers."
"No, my Lady. If I can do anything to ease Maximus' mind even a little then that is a most important job at a time like this." Jonivus smiled as he poured Olivia some honeyed wine. "I will be your host and your protector while your husband cannot."
They sat quietly for a time and watched Marcus cuddle a mewling gray and white kitten. A small fire crackled in the furnace, warming the room and lighting the space with a soft glow. The silence was eerie -- the floors so thick that no sounds penetrated from above.
"Jonivus... will I ever see Maximus alive again?"
"That's hard to say, my Lady."
"He asked you to care for his family in case he..." Olivia's voice faded away.
"Yes, my Lady." Jonivus glanced around the cellar. "This is not the most desirable place to be, but it is warm and secure. There is plenty of food and water. Your husband has ensured your safety. Unfortunately, he cannot ensure his own. It is important that you know that. He is a warrior."
"I do know that."
"You didn't bargain for anything like this to happen when you made the decision to join Maximus here, though."
She shook her head miserably.
"Of course not. No mother would ever deliberately put her son at such risk," Jonivus said kindly. "I think that sometimes men like your young brother think that Maximus lives a life of adventure and excitement. It's anything but that. He has one of the hardest jobs in the empire but Marcus Aurelius chose wisely when he promoted your husband to that position. Unfortunately, it leaves him little room for relaxation and absolutely no room for lapses in judgment."
"Are you saying that I shouldn¹t have come here? That I distract him?"
"No, my Lady, not at all. Your presence has lifted his spirits tremendously. It's just that you are now going to see for yourself why Maximus is unable to join you in Spain for years at a time."
Olivia drew a deep breath. "Maximus will be fine. Nothing will happen to him," she said with unconvincing resolution.
Jonivus considered his next words carefully. "My Lady, do you know why generals wear wine-red clothing?"
"It's... it's the color of leadership in the army."
"True, but it became so because that color doesn't show the general's blood and demoralize his men. A general could be bleeding to death and his clothing not show it."
"Jonivus... is this supposed to make me feel better... this talk of my husband bleeding?"
"My lady, I think it's important that you understand what your husband and his men will face very shortly." Jonivus studied the lovely face of his general's wife. "Do you know that Maximus has a habit of rubbing soil between his hands before each battle, and smelling it?"
"Does he still do that? I first saw him do it at his farm when he returned home many years after becoming a soldier."
"Do you know why he does it?"
"He's a farmer..."
"Yes, but there's more to it. I asked him about it once and he seemed almost a bit embarrassed but I coaxed an answer out of him after quite a few goblets of wine. He needs to feel and smell the soil that may absorb his blood and encase his mortal body. He does that before every battle. He is very much aware of his own mortality."
Olivia was too stunned to shed the tears that constricted her throat. "Your... your own son... he's up there too."
"Yes, he's a soldier."
"Then you must understand how I feel."
"I do, and we can pray together for the safety of our loved ones. We can pray together for their safety."
