Death Is Only The Beginning

By Bailey

 A Maximus Decimus Meridius story

Chapter One

The tall Roman Prefect of the Praetorian, Quintus Clarus, stood looking out his window from the second level of his beautiful villa.  His hazel eyes scanned the panorama.  He wasn’t an especially handsome man, but his face was pleasant. He didn’t smile nearly enough, but on those rare occasions he became a different person, less taciturn and more approachable.  The scar that ran from above his right eye to the middle of his forehead between his eyes, added an air of fierceness one could not mistake as a warrior.

He could see the Imperial Palace up the hill to the right as well as the huge Amphitheater where it stood directly across from the hill on which his villa perched.  It hosted some of the most brutal amusement Rome had to offer. 

He never, in all his years in the army, had thought he would attend ‘The Games’.  He’d seen killing and butchery enough for a lifetime.   Though he was a man who accepted the horrors of war with a soldier’s detachment, he could see no point in men killing men for the amusement of civilians. Because they attended the arena spectacles, civilians seemed to think they had some idea of what it was to participate in the blood and violence.  They didn’t understand that there was no honor in forcing men to kill other men only for amusement.

All too often, the matches were uneven and the crowd only enjoyed watching them because the stronger opponent would draw out the murder, making the mob feel every painful slice, every agony filled jab.  They would have understood better, if they had the nerve to step onto the bloody sand of the arena and become the target of a gladiator fighting for his life.  “They should go to war and taste the reality.  Maybe they would have a different perspective then.”  He muttered this under his breath as he continued looking out over Rome.

His thoughts wandered back to the day his long time friend and former commander, Maximus Decimus Meridius, revealed himself to Quintus and the Emperor, Commodus as a gladiator in the arena.  It came right after a group of ragged gladiators won the reenactment of the second war between Carthage and Scipio Africanus.  Of course Scipio had won and Carthage had fallen. 

The gladiators faced the Scipio horde with only lances and shields.  Against the fast moving chariots carrying men with bows, swords, javelins, and the wheels jutting with deadly scythes, the gladiators were seen as an easy slaughter.

Quintus had been amazed when one gladiator in particular organized the others into a cohesive fighting unit.  They systematically eliminated the chariots one by one and killed the charioteers and their warriors, much to Commodus’ delight.  When he announced that he wished to meet the gladiator whose skills had won them a victory, Quintus, as Prefect, accompanied him into the arena.

Before the Emperor arrived, all the gladiators had been disarmed.  Commodus was prepared to praise their leader for his skill and bravery.  However, when the hero leader had turned his back on Caesar, Commodus became furious.  He demanded the gladiator remove his helmet, show his face and say his name.  When the man did as he was ordered Commodus received the biggest shock of his life.  This slave, this commander of a ragged bunch of gladiators, was his longtime nemesis and the man he condemned to execution along with his family. 

There stood General Maximus Decimus Meridius, dangerous and defiant.  He boldly announced who he was, “Commander of the Armies of the North and General of the Felix Legions”, and his intention to have his vengeance, “in this life or the next”, for the slaughter of his family.  Only the mob, inspired by the courage of the gladiators and the exceptional leadership of their new found commander, kept Commodus from ordering all of them to be killed on the spot.  He could hardly kill the hero of the day.  He would have to wait and carefully plan how to get rid of Maximus once and for all.

Quintus had been shocked to see his friend.  After all, it was Quintus himself who gave the orders to have Maximus taken deep into the woods of Germania and executed.  It was something he regretted for months after the act, but never more than now.  It hadn’t been enough for Commodus to demand Quintus have Maximus executed for treason, he also included Maximus’ wife and young son. 

Quintus remembered that fateful night in Germania over two years ago.  He was shocked and disappointed that Maximus refused to acknowledge Commodus as the new Emperor.  This was after Commodus’ father, Marcus Aurelius, was found dead in his tent and Commodus announced his ascension to Imperator.  For Quintus, it began a succession of nightmares from that night on. 

When Commodus ordered Quintus to arrest Maximus and have him executed, he was fully aware of their friendship and he couldn’t help but know Quintus was duty bound to be loyal to his commander.  It was a test, to see if Quintus would follow his new emperor or support the most powerful commander in the Roman army.  Quintus was very aware that if he refused, he would have met the same fate as Maximus and his own family would follow, just as Maximus’ family would.  The slaughter would end only when Commodus had worked his way down the ranks until he found an officer who would comply.

Quintus gave the order and hated himself for it.  Maximus didn’t ask for his life, he had only pleaded for Quintus to take care of his family.  Quintus could still see the shock and betrayal on his friend’s face when he was told his family would follow him to the afterlife.  He knew that for Maximus, that was far worse than the prospects of dying.  His devotion to his wife and son went far beyond the Roman norm.  Maximus hadn’t married a politically or financially influential woman, he married a provincial like himself and he did it from love.  Most Roman marriages began from arrangement, then if the couple was lucky; some modicum of affection and respect would grow. Not so for Maximus.

He was a man who led his legions with strength, honor and duty.  But he also held the hearts of the men who fought with him.  They loved and respected him because he cared for them.  Quintus had often chided him about caring too much for the legionnaires.  Maximus left himself open to painful encounters when he visited his men in the infirmary after battle.  He hurt for them and more than once Quintus had found him in his tent, asking the gods to help him defeat the enemy quickly so that the misery his orders caused would soon end.  Maximus felt for the men and the families on both sides and often commented how fortunate he was that his little family was safe in Spain.

The Praetorian Prefect knew that when Maximus had gone on leave for several months, nearly eleven years ago, he’d returned home to Spain a broken man.  Lucilla, Marcus Aurelius’ daughter, had fallen in love with Maximus and promised that they would marry.  She never told him she was already engaged to Lucius Verus, Marcus Aurelius’ adopted brother and co-emperor.  When Maximus found out he was angry with Lucilla.  He felt she had played with his affections and betrayed him. 

When Maximus returned nearly five months later, he announced his marriage to a beautiful Spanish girl.  He seemed to have regained his perspective and told Quintus that he not only loved Selene, but she was already pregnant with their first child.  From that day on, Quintus knew Lucilla was only a distant memory.

He knew this day would come.  Commodus had hated Maximus for years.  Marcus Aurelius revered, respected and loved Maximus and Commodus was envious of that.  Maximus Decimus Meridius was everything Commodus was not. 

Quintus again saw in his mind’s eye the stony look Maximus gave him that first day in the arena.  He held Quintus’ gaze and raised his fist to his heart in the Roman salute.  “Strength and Honor” echoed in his mind.  It was a verbal salute Maximus had contrived while still very young.  It summed up everything he felt as a soldier and as a man.  It quickly became the watchwords his legion adhered to.  These weren’t simple words, they were the code Maximus lived by and expected his soldiers never to forget.

Quintus was sure that Maximus would have died that first day in the arena, had it not been for Lucius, Lucillas’s young son.  He had accompanied his uncle to the arena and stood in front of the gladiator.  His smiling face was full of admiration as he watched the exchange between his uncle and this new hero.  He didn’t understand the hostility between them but the tension made him withdraw.  Something was terribly wrong and his young mind only realized there was danger.

Quintus saw a flicker of hesitation in Maximus’ eyes.  His concern for Lucius was apparent.  If he pressed Commodus, the Praetorians would react and Lucius might be hurt or killed.  The boy was the same age as his son would have been and Maximus could not allow him to be harmed.  Instead, the moment waned once the mob began chanting, “Live, live, live!”  Commodus reluctantly granted them their wish and departed in a fury.

After that first encounter, Commodus had contrived what he considered fool-proof ways to kill the former General in the arena, but each time, Maximus emerged victorious.

Only days ago Commodus had arranged for a previously retired, never defeated, gladiator named Tigris to return to the arena and fight Maximus.  The entire fight had been orchestrated so that Tigris would be given an advantage through the use of hungry tigers.  The beasts were let loose from ramps in the arena floor.  Then, men would restrain the animals using chains around their necks.  When Tigris was near the lions they were pulled away, when Maximus was close, they were given slack.  Maximus was clawed on two occasions, but was not severely injured. 

In the end he killed one tiger and brought Tigris down.  Commodus was disappointed in the extreme and though he could not order the hero to be killed, he did the next best thing.  He gave the kill gesture to force Maximus to slaughter the badly wounded gladiator.  Commodus was sure Maximus would hesitate.  The General’s weakness lay in his respect for an honorable opponent. He would consider it dishonorable to kill the helpless former hero. 

If he didn’t comply with the command, Commodus could order his Praetorians to kill Maximus for his refusal.  If he carried out Commodus’ order, Maximus would feel as if Commodus stole his honor.  Either way the false emperor would have what he wanted.

Caesar waited as Maximus swung the axe into the air, intending to kill Tigris.  He stopped the axe at its zenith and tossed it away.  He could not, would not kill this man. 

Commodus smirked then he heard a voice shout, “Maximus, Maximus the merciful!”

Again the mob came to Maximus’ aide.   He could not kill the gladiator with the mob supporting him.  Perhaps he could maneuver his father’s general into giving him that chance?

He again went to the arena to congratulate Maximus.  This time however, the crowd couldn’t hear the taunts.  Commodus painted a horrific verbal picture of how Maximus’ son, Marcus, had died.  He said his son squealed like a girl as they crucified him. He increased Maximus’ hatred when he told of how the black clad messengers of the emperors wrath, had raped his beautiful, sweet Selene over and over and over.  He said she moaned like a whore. 

Maximus knew what Commodus was up to.  He wanted him to lose his control and attack the emperor; then the Praetorians would have ample reason to kill him.  General Meridius hadn’t been the commander of all the northern armies for nothing.  He knew well how to choose his battles and patience was the key to winning a decisive victory. 

The Praetorians heard the conversation and wondered why the Emperor hated this man so much.  Some of them even empathized with this former General.  He’d lost his legions, his family and his freedom, yet not one of the emperor’s guards believed he’d lost his dignity or his will to have his revenge.

That last fight was only three days ago.  Today was the day Maximus had his revenge.  Only this afternoon, Commodus had challenged the mighty general in the arena.  Of course that didn’t happen until the emperor went to the prison below the arena to speak to him.  During that conversation, even beaten, chained and bleeding, Maximus would not be defeated. 

The night before, Lucilla had arranged for Maximus to leave the Ludus Magnus where he lived along with the other gladiators in his owner, Proximo’s, stable.  He was just waiting for Proximo to come and unlock the door to his cell when Praetorians arrived and stormed the compound.  His gladiator friends rioted to give Maximus the time he needed to escape.  Many of them were killed along with the Lanista.

As he emerged from a small doorway into a dark clearing, he could see, Cicero, his faithful servant, waiting with his horse.  They would ride to Ostia and bring Felix III to Rome.  Commodus’ days were numbered.  But Lucilla, under threats from Commodus had revealed the plot.  Commodus didn’t even notify his Prefect when he sent 100 Praetorians to bring Maximus back.  They had killed Cicero and beaten Maximus senseless, then hung him from chains for the night.

Quintus had gone to see his former friend and commander early that next morning.  When Maximus had asked him to think about what he was doing, Quintus could only say that he was following orders.  He couldn’t say more than that.  For days now, Quintus was aware that he was being watched; that everything he did was being reported to Commodus. 

The day after that first meeting in the arena, Commodus ordered Quintus to have two of his Praetorian executed, for not telling him Maximus’ body was never found after his execution and that the Praetorians sent to do the deed had never returned from their mission.  Since then Commodus hadn’t trusted him.  He would have trusted him even less if he’d known what Quintus did shortly after ordering the general’s execution. 

Quintus had pleaded with Commodus not to execute the two young praetorians.  They were good officers and didn’t deserve to die.  He explained to Commodus, that the two men thought the Germanians had attacked the small party.  Naturally after not finding the great General Maximus among the dead men they assumed the Germanians had taken his body and fed it to the wolves, as was their practice in revenge.

“You didn’t find the need to tell me of this?”  Commodus was cold as always.

“No, Sire, I saw no reason to search for the body.  The general couldn’t have escaped; he was bound and escorted by four Praetorian.”

Commodus snarled, “But he did, Quintus!  He did!  Pray you don’t make any more mistakes, Commander, or you may be the next to face a firing squad.”

Those same two praetorians had been sent by Quintus to find out why the executioners hadn’t returned.  When he was told, about the dead executioners and the general’s missing body, he prayed that if his friend had escaped he would not return to Spain.  He carefully kept the truth from Commodus.

Even though he had prayed that night in Germania that Maximus had actually survived, he had felt at the time the story he told Caesar was closer to the truth.

Quintus had returned to the arena this afternoon just before Maximus was scheduled to fight.  He had just arrived near the end of Commodus’ ‘conversation’ with Maximus.  He watched as Commodus pulled Maximus into a mock hug then, stabbed the defenseless man in the back with a stiletto. He ordered the Praetorians to bind the wound and dress Maximus for his fight with the emperor.

Quintus was shocked and appalled.  He knew his friend was going to die.  He only prayed that Maximus could last long enough, to rid all of them of the evil emperor.  He did.  Even mortally wounded, even dying on his feet, he killed the false Caesar in the arena in front of 50,000 shocked and saddened Romans.  But in doing it, he died only moments after freeing Senator Gracchus, Lucilla’s co-conspirator and his gladiator friends.

Quintus wanted to go to his old friend and explain his actions; ask forgiveness. He wanted to tell Maximus not to die, that he had a reason to live.  But Lucilla was there crying and urging him to go to his family.  Then he was gone.

The Prefect watched as the gladiators, Senator Gracchus and Lucilla’s son bore Maximus’ body out of the arena.  He had wanted to accompany them, but he had to issue orders to contain the riot he was afraid might take place, now that both the hated emperor and Maximus, Rome’s greatest gladiator, was dead.

He spent the next few hours deploying his troops throughout the city to maintain order.  He even thought of sending a messenger to Ostia to ask for assistance from Felix III.  In the end he decided against it.  He wasn’t sure how many of the men who knew Maximus were still with that legion.  He was certain he would be in disfavor having betrayed their commander and he couldn’t take the chance that they would cause a civil war.  He couldn’t be responsible for that.

Chapter Two

Lucilla, Empress of Rome and wife to the late emperor, Lucius Verus, lay in her bed, in the chambers that were hers alone.  The palace was huge and though beautiful, it was a cold beauty.  She cried quietly as she had since the moment Maximus closed his eyes forever.  She had betrayed him for the second time and his dying comment was that Lucius was safe.  He was thinking of her and her son in the moment he died, not of her betrayal.

She had ordered the mob to honor him; he was a soldier of Rome.  But unlike a soldier, they had carried him in the fashion of an emperor.  They honored him for the sacrifice he’d made.

They took him to a small room beneath the arena and lay him on a stone dais where Lucilla said a small prayer that he was with his family.  As she left she ordered two of the Praetorian to guard the door.  She would send her most trusted servant to wash his body and prepare him for transport to the royal crematorium.  There his body would be burned and the ashes placed in a golden urn.  Once the sarcophagus she planned to have made was finished, his urn would be put inside the sarcophagus that would be stationed at the place of honor on the right hand side of her father’s tomb.  It wasn’t much, but she felt her father would approve and so would Maximus.

Lucilla thought back to when she had betrayed Maximus the first time.  She hadn’t meant to.  She knew he was unaware that she was betrothed to Lucius Verus and she diligently kept it from him. 

Maximus was tall, well built, with a head of thick, nearly black hair and the most beautiful blue-green eyes. She was only seventeen and the handsome, charming Spaniard had totally captured her.  She had always felt alone, except with him.  His smile and laugher left her lighthearted. 

She had hoped her father could be persuaded to allow her to marry from love instead of duty.  But she knew the chances were next to nil.  Maximus was only a centurion and not from a high born family. Her marriage to Lucius Verus was a necessary political move.  Still she allowed her fantasy to continue.

Maximus was furious the day he found out she was to marry Lucius.  He stormed into her tent and accused her of using him, of allowing him to think there was a chance for them to be married.  She tried to reason with him. She said it was possible that Lucius, a warrior who was often very close to the battles while directing them, might be killed.  Then she would ask her father to allow her to choose her husband.

“So am I to hope that one of my emperors, a man whom I respect for his dedication and military expertise, not to mention his honor and courage, should die so I can have his intended?  I did not know until now, Lucilla, how callous and capricious a woman you are!”

With that, Maximus stormed out not to return until after Lucilla was long gone and he was married to another woman. 

She remembered the day, only hours before her own wedding, when Marcus Aurelius came to her rooms just before her maids began to make preparations for her walk down the isle.

He told her he had a letter from Patroclus, General of the Felix III.  He mentioned that one of his centurions, Maximus Decimus Meridius, had married.  Patroclus wasn’t in the habit of sending news of his lesser officers to the emperor, but he knew Marcus Aurelius was very fond of this particular centurion and had plans for him.

Lucilla knew that her father told her for a reason.  Though he’d never said anything to her about Maximus, she was sure he knew of their affair.  He probably hadn’t interceded because of his faith in Maximus not to overstep his bounds.  He was right.  Maximus would never have sullied her before marriage.  He wasn’t brought up that way.   Even though they came close several times, it was always Maximus who had the cooler head and stopped them before it was too late. As a result, Lucilla went to her marriage bed a virgin.

Lucius Verus was seventeen years her senior; he was a good-looking man with thick dark hair and chestnut colored eyes.  His best quality was his willingness to smile and his kindness, to her in particular.

The evening of their wedding, Lucius arrived in their bedchamber only moments after Lucilla was dressed in a beautiful sleeping shift and placed on the bed with rose petals scattered on the sheets.  Her golden brown hair had been brushed and was lying around her tall, lithe body like a curtain of gold-bronze.  When he stepped into the room, she automatically withdrew a little and her beautiful emerald eyes became as large as saucers.  After all, the shift was of the thinnest silk and opaque in color.  It was like being naked in front of her new husband.

Lucius smiled and sat on the edge of the bed.  “Lucilla, I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”  He looked down at his hands, “I know you are in love with someone else, and I also know what it is like to be robbed of the love you want in order to fulfill your duty.  I loved a girl years ago, but she was plebian.  I wanted to renounce my status and marry her.  I thought of running away with her to somewhere the empire never heard of.  But I realized I was fighting a losing battle.  My adopted father would have spared no expense in bringing me back and my sweet Anna would have been condemned to slavery.  I wanted to rail at the gods for being so cruel as to bring us together then keep us apart.” 

He sighed and took her hand in his. “I know this doesn’t lessen your pain, but I would very much like us to be, at least, friends.  We are married now and we both have a duty to the empire and our families.  I promise I will not hurt you and I also promise that I will be a good husband and father to our children.”  He hesitated a moment, as he stroked her hand.  “Will you allow me to love you, without resistance?”

She looked steadily at him. “I am your wife.  I have no right to resistance.”

He looked down at her hand, then, raised it to his lips.  “If it makes you happier, then pretend that I am the one you love.  Close your eyes and picture him.  I won’t take offense, if it makes it easier for you.”

Lucilla couldn’t believe he was being so kind, so considerate of her feelings.  He had every right to demand her total compliance, yet he was asking her permission and allowing her the memory of Maximus.  She had totally misjudged this man.  Warrior that he was, the most powerful man in all of the empire in conjunction with her father was willing to make things easier for her.  She couldn’t help it, she cried.

Lucius slid onto the bed next to her and gently pulled her into his arms.  He rocked her and soothed her.  When he finally made love to her it wasn’t the scary thing she had expected.  It was almost like being rocked to sleep.

She was never truly in love with her husband, but she did come to care for him.  He treated her with respect and did his best to make her happy

Once Lucilla had announced her pregnancy she was no longer expected to receive her husband.  At first, he came only to seek her company in conversation.  He didn’t expect her to allow him to share her bed.  As the weeks went by Lucilla realized Lucius was not using a slave or keeping a mistress as so many men did.  She was curious about it and finally asked him why.

He spoke to her as he always did, with a smile and soft voice, “You really don’t understand, do you?”

She shook her head.

“You have made me happy, Lucilla.  I never thought I could be, after losing my beautiful Anna.  But I am.  I respect you and would never ask to share your bed now that you are pregnant, but I also will not break the vows I made to you.”

Lucilla missed him coming to her.  He was a good lover and was never rough with her.  She thought over what he said to her and shyly told him, “I would not be adverse to you sharing my bed.  I have affection for you as well.  I miss having you hold me.”

From that day forward Lucilla was fully a wife.  She never forgot Maximus, but settled herself to the fact that she would never have him. Only nine months after they were wed, she delivered Lucius Lunior.   Lucius was overcome with joy.  When he came into her bedroom, he took the baby, lifted him to the ceiling and proclaimed him the first son of their home.  Then he kissed the boy, handed him to his mother and kissed her. 

“Thank you, Lucilla.  You have given me a handsome son.  I promise to love and protect him and you.”  Tears slowly slid down his cheeks as he spoke.

She realized that she was not unhappy nor was she alone, at least until Lucius had to leave on a tour of the legions in the east.  He was gone nearly two years and she was very happy to see him on his return. 

Lucius Lunior was nearly three years old when his papa came home.  It took no time at all for the father to gain his son's love.  They went riding on Lucius’ huge battle horse, Lucius Lunior tucked between his father’s thighs and his strong arms around him.

They were like two children, returning to the palace covered in mud or dirt from some adventure they’d been on.  Lucilla would often see them sneak into Lucius’ bath when they thought she didn’t know.  Then they’d emerge clean and ready to seek out Lucilla.

It was a dark day when Lucilla was advised three years later that Lucius had suffered heat stroke and died in Alexandria during an inspection tour.  She cried more than she ever had.  She cried for Lucius, for her son and for herself. 

Lucius was barely dead in his grave before Commodus began making small advances to his sister.  He had always had an unnatural attachment to her, but when Lucius died their father had been in Germania and Commodus had become more overt.   This morning he announced that he intended to have children with her.  His incestuous behavior and his obsession with killing Maximus convinced her that he was completely insane. 

She would have been the happiest person in the world if Maximus had made good his escape.  But when she saw him stagger from the platform in the arena, bleeding and weakened, her heart nearly stopped.  She wasn’t surprised that Commodus would wound his opponent before facing him; she just couldn’t believe he would actually face even a wounded Maximus.  He had again underestimated Rome’s greatest general.

Lucilla asked her most trusted servant Katia, to attend to Maximus’ body.  She didn’t want the imperial surgeons or attendants to touch him.  Only someone who knew Lucilla well and understood her feelings for Maximus would be allowed to prepare him for his funeral.  Lucilla wanted to, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Besides, Lucius had been very upset.  He idolized Maximus and his death was taking its toll on her son as well.

The moment Lucilla returned to the palace, she explained to Katia what she needed her to do.  Katia would have done anything Lucilla asked. Her devotion to the empress was without bounds.  Only days after Maximus stormed out of Lucilla’s tent in Germania and rode out of her life back to Spain, she had taken Katia, a then ten-year old orphan, from a line of slaves being sent to different places in the empire.  As Marcus Aurelius’ daughter she could take as many as she wished.  The child looked so lost, Lucilla’s heart broke. 

She was feeling very lost and alone herself once Maximus had left.  She needed someone to love and care for.  Lucilla was on her way back to Rome and a marriage she didn’t want.  As a result, Lucilla and Katia became inseparable.

Katia would have given her life to protect Lucilla and later, Lucius.  Many were the times that she watched covertly when Commodus went to Lucius’ bedroom.  He would watch the child sleep and Katia was always concerned that Commodus would try to do away with him.  After all, Lucius Verus was the son of an emperor and grandson of one as well.  He represented a threat to Commodus.  Though Commodus seemed to have affection for the child, his mental state was unstable and only the gods knew what he was capable of.

When Commodus became Caesar, she was doubly protective.  She swore to herself that if Commodus tried to hurt Lucius, she would kill him with the dagger she kept hidden in her tunic.  She would be killed in return, but her reward would be knowing that she saved Lucius and Lucilla from Commodus’ madness.

The beautiful, blonde Germanian hurried to the arena to carry out her Domina’s wishes.  She did it with a great deal of sadness.  She had heard of Maximus Decimus Meridius many times over the last ten years.  Marcus Aurelius spoke of him often and with a great deal of fondness.  Her lady had told her about their affair and Katia was certain she had never stopped loving him.  She even met him on one occasion.  He was kind to her.  That was the day before Marcus Aurelius was found dead two years ago.

Lucilla and Commodus had been called to Germania by Caesar.  Commodus suspected that his father would announce his choice for emperor soon. Caesar was getting old and he needed to make it known who would succeed him, before it was too late. Commodus believed he would naturally choose him.  After all, he was the emperor’s son. 

However, Katia knew better.  She had been sent to the imperial tent to deliver a message for Lucilla and walked in on part of a conversation Marcus Aurelius was having with his son.  She heard only, “You will not succeed me to the throne.”

Commodus was obviously upset when he asked, “And which older, wiser man will become Emperor, father?”

“My powers will pass to Maximus.”

That was all Katia heard before she quickly left.  She didn’t want to interrupt Caesar.  She returned to Lucilla and explained that Caesar was speaking with Commodus and she had been unable to deliver the message. 

Katia knew Lucilla had caught Maximus as he left Caesar’s tent that morning.  She heard Lucilla call him back when he gave her a short greeting and kept walking.  Lucilla told her that she had come out right and asked Maximus what her father wanted him for.  She also said it was evident that Maximus still didn’t trust her.  That hurt.  Though her father never discussed his successor with Lucilla, she hoped he wouldn’t name her brother.  In fact she was hoping he had asked Maximus.  

She knew Caesar held Maximus in the highest regard, but Caesar also knew Maximus didn’t have political ambitions.  He simply wanted to leave the army and return home to his wife and son.  Asking Maximus to become Caesar after her father’s death meant keeping him from returning to Spain indefinitely.  Caesar would have to keep him close and teach him a great deal, so when the time came for Maximus to claim the throne it would happen without civil unrest.

Katia told Lucilla what she heard Marcus Aurelius tell Commodus.  Lucilla breathed a little easier.  True, Maximus could still decline, but she doubted he would.  His devotion to his Caesar and to Rome would take precedent over his family.

That night the unimaginable happened.  Commodus called for Lucilla and when she arrived at her father’s tent, she was told Caesar was dead.  Lucilla was devastated.  She knew her brother was responsible.  When Maximus arrived and refused to acknowledge Commodus as his new Caesar, she understood why.  But he’d been foolish.  He should have taken Commodus’ hand and sworn allegiance, then overthrown Commodus afterwards.  But knowing Maximus and his honor, she knew he could never do that.

Once they were alone, Lucilla, still in grief for her father, had struck Commodus, two vicious blows, just to let him know she wasn’t fooled by his claim that Caesar had died in his sleep.  Then she took his hand and kissed his ring, his father’s imperial ring.  She hated herself for doing it, but what else could she have done?  Her concern now was for her son and his safety.  If she hadn’t announced her loyalty, she was certain her son would have paid the price.  Even with her acceptance, she knew she walked a very fine line.  Commodus would very likely decide, sometime in the future, that Lucius was a threat, and when that time came all the pledges, all the acceptances, all the words of loyalty, would not keep Commodus from removing Lucius.

Commodus had arrived at her tent only hours later to tell her Maximus had been executed for treason and his family would die as well.  Her life became a living hell, one she could not escape.

Chapter Three

Katia hated going into the maze underneath the arena.  It was dark, damp and scary.  She could hear the wild animals crying and the smell was awful.  There were animal smells, filth, sweat and blood smells.  It was a place of death.

The arena keeper had met her at the gate leading into the bowels of the arena.  He carried a torch and they quickly reached the room where Maximus was lying on a dais.  Before going into the room, she requested the man bring her a bucket of water.  She had towels, a blanket and a beautiful purple toga to dress him in.

“Please wait for me here. I’ll call you when I need help,” she instructed the Praetorians.  Neither of the guards was anxious to touch the dead body and both were quite happy to leave the servant to her own devices.

The arena keeper arrived and deposited a bucket of clean water on the floor next to the dead man.

Once he left, Katia stood looking at the General.  “Such a waste,” she thought.  “He was a great general and a good man.  He should have had his dream of returning to Spain and his family, not dying in an arena as a slave.”  But then, he was never a slave.  To truly be a slave, meant to accept your station.  Maximus had never accepted that.  He acknowledged it but could never relinquish the spirit behind the man.  He was a General of Generals and that had never changed. 

She dipped a towel into the water and slowly began to wash the blood and filth from his handsome face, then, moved down to his arm.  When she picked up his arm to wash it, she could feel the heat of his skin.  Why would his skin be hot?  He’d been in the heat of the afternoon sun but not for at least an hour.  As cool as it was in this room, he should be cold by now.  It was then that she saw the blood that oozed down the table and ran in a small rivulet to the floor.  The wound to his leg was fairly superficial; it should have coagulated by now.  Once his heart stopped beating, providing fresh blood, the wound should have stopped bleeding.  The wound to his back also still ran red with blood.  Neither she nor the Praetorians noticed because the blood dripped down the side of the dais facing away from the door.

It couldn’t be.  She didn’t dare hope that General Maximus was still alive. Katia laid her head on his chest and listened.  She could hear it, his heartbeat.  It was very faint, and she didn’t hold much hope that he would be alive much longer.  She needed to return to Lucilla and tell her.  But how would she do that?  She couldn’t tell the guards that the general was still alive.  She had no idea where their loyalty would lie.  They were bound to protect Lucilla and Lucius because of their station, but Maximus was a different story altogether.

She covered Maximus with the blanket she brought, then told the guards she was going to get more water.  Katia closed the door behind her, indicating that they should not enter or touch anything until her return. 

Even with the torch, it was hard to see in the passageway and she was afraid she would become lost.  Why hadn’t the arena keeper stayed?  He knew she needed help to find her way out.  As she rounded a small curve, she got her answer. 

A man dressed in a plain tan tunic grabbed her from behind and pulled her into a small room.  He held his hand over her mouth so she couldn’t shout.  He whispered, “We are soldiers from Felix III.  We were at the games today. We are here to take Maximus’ body home to the legion.  Where is he?”

She saw the arena keeper lying in a corner.  He didn’t look dead, merely unconscious.

The man removed his hand, prepared to clasp it over her mouth again if she tried to scream.

“Please,” she pleaded in a whisper.  “He’s terribly wounded but still alive.  We must get him out of here before the Praetorians realize it.  Prefect Quintus’ second in command, Silvius, is an ambitious man.  Now that the throne is empty, he may try to take command of the Praetorian and install an emperor who will pay for the privilege.  The populace would support someone like Maximus if they found out he was alive and that may not be to Silvius’ liking.”

“Where can we take him?  If he’s as injured as you say, we could kill him by moving him too far.  We can’t let Lady Lucilla know about this.  If Silvius is watching the political climate, you can be sure he’s watching Lady Lucilla as well.”

Katia thought for a moment.  “Prefect Quintus’ villa is not far.  We could hide him there.”

“Quintus!  Not likely.  He betrayed Maximus in Germania!”  Publius knew well how Quintus gained his place as Prefect of the Praetorian.  The position had been a gift from Commodus for betraying his General and friend.

“No, you don’t understand!  Quintus came to see Lady Lucilla this afternoon just before he went to the arena.  They spoke about how Commodus had commanded Silvius to capture Maximus and said nothing to Quintus.  The Prefect knew his Caesar didn’t trust him. He told my lady he was certain Commodus had something special planned for Maximus, but he didn’t know what it was.  He wanted to help the general but when the plot to free him failed, Commodus became doubly paranoid and had spies everywhere.  I believe he would help us.  He didn’t ask for the position of Prefect.  He told Lucilla it was given to him and Commodus made it very clear that if he didn’t accept he would consider him a traitor.”

Publius thought for a moment then turned to the three other legionnaires from Felix III.  “I’ll follow the lady back to Maximus.”  He turned to Katia. “You will tell the guards I was sent to help you.  When we enter the room ask the guards to come in and help me turn him over.  Once the guards enter the room, Claudius, Antonius, you quietly come in behind and dispose of them.”

“But how do we get him out?”  Katia was shaken and uncertain how to move Maximus without killing him.

“Petrus will carry him.  Claudius and I will change clothes with the Praetorians and ‘escort’ you to Quintus’ house.”

Katia turned and looked at the one called Petrus.  He was the biggest man she’d ever seen. 

Everything went as planned.  The Praetorians were caught off guard and both died instantly.  Claudius and Antonius stripped the dead men and disposed of the bodies by feeding them to the lions.  They both felt it was justice.

It was dark outside by the time the small party made their way through the halls of the arena and out the gate.  Katia approached Quintus’ villa alone.  She told the slave who answered the door that she had a message from Lucilla.  He brought her into the atrium and asked her to wait there.

When Quintus arrived, she told him Lucilla was requesting his help.  “A very good friend of hers is in need of assistance.  He needs medical attention and a place to stay.  It would be imperative that no one knows he is here.”

She waited while Quintus thought it over.  From the look on his face he already knew who that ‘good friend’ was. 

He nodded, “Bring him around to the servant’s entrance.  I have a special place we can lodge him.”

Moments later, Katia left the villa and began the walk back to the palace.  She stopped to tie her sandals and whispered quietly in the direction of a small wall between two villas.  Once she finished her instructions, she went on her way.  The spy lurking in the shadows across from Quintus’ villa couldn’t see the four legionnaires as they moved through the darkness to the back door.  He was unconcerned about Katia’s appearance since Lucilla often sent Quintus messages through her servant.  But he would report it to Silvius anyway.

Once inside the house, Quintus led them to a concealed door and a stairway leading to a basement room.  He turned to Publius as Petrus lay Maximus on the bed.  “This isn’t what Maximus deserves, but we can’t take a chance on Silvius finding him here.  I will tell only my most trusted slaves and only they will attend him.”

“He needs a physician, not a fumble-handed slave.”  Publius couldn’t hide the contempt he held for his former legate.

“One of my slaves was a healer in Germania.  I brought her back with me.  She is very good at healing.  Besides, if I sent for a physician, Silvius would get suspicious.  He’s bound to find Maximus’ body gone and he’ll want to know where it is.  He’ll also want to know what happened to the Praetorians that were guarding his body.  As Prefect I can misdirect Silvius only for a while.  He’s determined to take control.  If he does we will have to move Maximus to Ostia and hope the men will keep him hidden until we can get him out of Italy.”

“Don’t worry, they will.”  All three of the other legionnaires agreed with Publius.

Quintus asked the four legionnaires to stay and help protect Maximus.  He found out that they had come to Rome when word was received that General Maximus was fighting in the arena as a gladiator.  None of the four believed it but since they were going to Rome on holiday anyway, they went to the games to see what gladiator could be considered good enough to be called Maximus.  When the general staggered from the lift and bent down to scoop some sand and smell it, they knew.  It was a ritual he performed each time before battle.

Silvius arrived at Quintus’ home two days later and questioned Quintus’ reasons for sheltering army men.

“Silvius!  What brings you to my home?”  Quintus received his Legate in the atrium and moved him along out to the gardens.  “We can talk out here without interruption,” he explained. 

Juliana, Quintus’ wife, had met Silvius only once.  She had told him the man made her skin crawl.  Quintus had to agree.  The man was tall with a broad chest and heavy arms and legs. It was his pig eyes though that said the most about his character and intent.

He was no stranger to warring, having been in the army for many years before coming to Rome.  He had served under General Cassius, who at one point tried to take the throne from Marcus Aurelius.  When Cassius was killed and the rebellion put down by Maximus and his cavalry, Silvius had escaped retribution.  The moment Silvius had seen the general of all the Felix Legions arrive at Cassius’ legion gates his allegiance quickly changed.  He went to Maximus and swore he had nothing to do with Cassius’ claim to the throne.  Maximus, of course, didn’t believe him but had no proof of his treason.  Silvius was transferred to another legion and waited for an opportunity to further his plans.

When Commodus arrived in Germania, the day before he murdered his father, he recognized the Centurion from Cassius’ legion.  They had talked at length many times in the past and he was certain this man would help him rid the Empire of the troublesome Maximus.  He promised Silvius money, land and a place in the Praetoriun in return for his loyalty once Caesar died and he became Emperor.  That night Commodus fulfilled his promise and made him Quintus’ second in command.  It was not what Silvius wanted.  He had expected to become Prefect of the Praetoriun not its Legate.  Since then Quintus had walked a very fine line between Commodus’ madness and Silvius’ ambition.

Silvius stood stone-faced, scanning the beautiful garden.  He never relaxed no matter where he was.  “I was informed that you are harboring soldiers from the Felix Legion camped in Ostia.”  His demand and demeanor was both insulting and without respect.

“Harboring?  What are you insinuating, that I’m plotting to bring Felix III here?  In case you’ve forgotten, the men in Felix III were loyal to Maximus Decimus Meridius!  My order to execute him has made me very unpopular among the soldiers.  These men, if you must know, are here at my request. They were loyal to me and I’m currently trying to recruit them into the Praetoriun.  I need men who are loyal to me not men who question my every move looking for an opportunity to usurp my authority.  I would remember that, Silvius, before you come questioning me again.  Now leave!  And the next time you have questions, ask me once you’ve done your homework.”

Silvius bowed and left.  He had been properly chastised, but was by no means daunted by Quintus’ threats.  His interrogation of Lady Lucilla’s handmaid, Katia, had been fruitless.  She maintained that she had cleaned Maximus’ body, dressed him and left the amphitheater.  She had only gone to Quintus’ villa to inform him that the funeral rites would take place the next morning.  She insisted that she had no idea the Praetorian guards were missing and Maximus’ body was gone.  Since it was not a capital crime and because she was an imperial slave, he had to accept her explanation.  He didn’t believe her though and was determined to find Maximus’ body.

Quintus knew his soldier friends would have to return to Felix III or risk elevating Silvius’ suspicions. Once they were gone he would have to move Maximus as soon as he was well enough to travel. Taking him to Ostia was now out of the question.  Silvius would no doubt be watching.  Quintus couldn’t assure Maximus’ safety or the safety of his family if they stayed here.  He made a monumental decision, one that would be in the best interest of all concerned, but would leave Rome to the vultures.

Erika, Quintus’ healer, worked a miracle.  Maximus hovered near death for nearly a week, but Erika wouldn’t give up.  The stiletto wound was very nearly his undoing.  It was not only in a delicate place, but it was deep and difficult to clean and close without causing further complications. 

She should have hated this general who wrecked havoc on her homeland, but she didn’t.  Unlike the other generals who fought her kinsmen, General Maximus didn’t allow his men to slaughter children or rape captured women.  He couldn’t stop his army from taking slaves, but he at least impressed upon them that women and children were not their enemies.

She never appreciated this small mercy more than when she witnessed the general nearly kill a legionnaire who was bent on raping her granddaughter.  The lesson was not lost on the men who had watched.  The general had turned to his men after soundly beating the man. “Ask yourselves what you would do if this were your daughter, sister, niece or wife.  We are the conquerors, but what kind of men are we if we have no compassion for the conquered?”  He had turned and stormed away leaving the injured legionnaire to his friends.

When Maximus’ fever waned and he finally became lucid, he found himself in a small dark room.  Only a small square window at the top of the room allowed any light to filter in.  It seemed the window was at ground level because Maximus could make out flowers and bushes nearly covering it

Where was he?  He remembered fighting Commodus, but details were fuzzy.  He recalled Lucilla leaning over him with tears on her face.  “Go to them,” she had whispered.

He had tried to, but when he started to walk through the gate to his home, his vision of Selene and Marcus faded.  He balked. He could no longer see them.  If they weren’t in Elysium, he didn’t want to go.  He fought the urge to step through the gate.  He knew if he did, he would be alone. 

Chapter Four

The next day Quintus’ wife came to see Maximus.  She entered the little room with some trepidation.  She wasn’t sure how Maximus would react to her plea to understand why Quintus had done what he did.  Quintus had talked to his wife about Maximus and his betrayal the moment he returned to Rome.  She knew him to be an honorable man and even though she also knew he envied Maximus, she was convinced that he’d done what he did to save his family from execution not because he wanted the office of Prefect.

Quintus’ wife was tall and slender, with beautiful blonde hair, unusual for an Italian.  She motioned to the pretty slave who was attending Maximus to leave them.  The girl, a mute, simply smiled at Maximus and bowed to her domina as she left.

Julianna moved to sit in the chair beside Maximus’ bed.  “General, I am Julianna Clarus, Quintus’ wife.”  Before he could acknowledge her or say anything, she rapidly moved on.  “I know you must hate him for sending you to your execution and for destroying your family, but please try to understand why he did it.  He was afraid for me, for our children.”  She was pleading with her eyes and her voice.  “Oh, General, it has eaten on him since the day it happened.  If he hadn’t had us to worry about, I truly believe he would have gone to his death for you.  Please, General, he needs your forgiveness and I need my husband.”

Maximus just stared at her.  She talked as though he could have his former legate executed if he wanted to.  Didn’t she understand?  He was no longer a person.  He couldn’t use his name in Rome.  He was effectively a fugitive.  He could no more wreck vengeance on Quintus than he could touch the moon.  Besides, he wanted no more blood on his hands.  Now that his mission to free Rome from Commodus’ rule was complete, now that Selene and Marcus’ deaths were avenged, he had no future.  There was no longer a place for him.  He wasn’t a general, or a husband, or a father, not even a farmer.  His home and lands had been destroyed along with his family and familias. 

There was no point to his existence.  So why had he drawn back from death?  Why weren’t Selene and Marcus there to greet him?

Perhaps the place he had nearly gone to wasn’t Elysium after all?  Perhaps the gods had decided to send him to a place where happiness didn’t exist, where he would spend eternity longing for his family and friends who died before him.  Maybe it was a punishment for all the lives he’d ruined while leading his legions. 

“My Lady,” he said, “I have no wish to punish Quintus.  I do not wish to kill or cause the death of anyone ever again.  I already have too much blood on my hands.”

Julianna smiled, “Thank you, General.”

Quintus had barely been home since the day Commodus was killed.  He spent long hours trying to counter Silvius’ attempts to gain control of the Praetorian.  Senator Helvius Pertinax was a wealthy contender for the throne and Silvius was impressed with his willingness to pay a very high price for the purple.

A week later he finally came to see Maximus.  He had followed Maximus’ progress and was happy to know he could soon be moved out of Rome and away from Silvius’ continuous investigation of where Meridius’ body went.

Quintus and Lucilla agreed it would be better to allow the general populous to believe Maximus was dead.  They both knew his promise to Marcus Aurelius to return Rome to a republic was not possible now.  The best he could hope for was anonymity.  Furthermore, he knew Maximus would never have wanted to be Caesar and he would not have peace as long as Rome knew he still lived.

Quintus walked into the room just as Erika was leaving.  She smiled, “He does well.”

Maximus watched as his former friend moved to the side of his bed.  He handed Maximus his dagger, kneeled and bowed his head.  Quintus was giving him the opportunity for vengeance.  He asked forgiveness for the wrong he’d done and requested that Maximus give him a soldier’s death.

“Quintus, I do not want your life.  Sit, let’s talk.”

He did as he was asked.  He needed to hear what Maximus had to say.

“I know why you did what you did.  Perhaps in your place I would have done the same.”

“No, Maximus, I doubt your honor would have let you.”

“You’re wrong, Quintus.  My own death meant nothing, but if I had known my actions would bring death to my family, I would have done anything to save them.  You did what you had to do to save your family.  It’s done. Let it go.”

Quintus smiled, “I needed to hear that, my friend, to know you would forgive such a travesty.  But now I want to tell you what the gods have in store for both of us.  Things are getting worse in Rome.  Silvius wants my place as Prefect and I intend to give it to him.  I am packing my family up and moving to Spain.  I no longer want to live in Rome. 

"Lady Lucilla was very generous when she learned I’ve been hiding you here.  I bought a farm near Trujillo.  The farm next to it Lady Lucilla deeded over to you.  It’s your land, Maximus, the land Commodus stripped from you.  Now since I know nothing of farming, I hope you will be a good neighbor and give me advice when I need it.”

Maximus smiled.  His land was probably going to need a lot of care. The Praetorians had not just burned everything, they had used salt.  It would take the land time to recover.  He never thought he would want to return to his Spanish home now that Selene and Marcus were dead, but the more he thought about it the more he welcomed the idea. 

“Maximus, I have one more thing to tell you.  I am not and never have been a very good Prefect.  You see, after I watched your executioners ride away with you, I couldn’t go through with Commodus’ order to execute your family as well.  I sent two men to Spain, Titus and Rufinius, men as you may remember who had just been retired.  They came to say good-bye to me and I managed to steal a moment alone with them.  I explained the situation and asked them to ride to Trujillo to save your family.  They wanted to ride after you but I couldn’t let them. Too much time had passed and I was afraid they would not find you.  I knew I could hold off sending the executioners to your home, but not for long.  Commodus would have suspected something was wrong, so I sent them only hours before I ordered the executioners to Trujillo.”

Maximus listened with his mouth agape.  “You…you mean my family is alive?”

Quintus smiled, “Yes, Maximus.  I told no one what I asked of Titus and Rufinius.  I couldn’t take the chance that Commodus might find out and try to stop them.  Even when I returned to Rome I kept the secret.  Not even Julianna, my greatest confidant, knows.

Titus and Rufinius arrived at your villa only a short time before the Praetorians did.  They managed to convince Selene to leave with them.  She wanted to alert the slaves, but they could see the Praetorians already coming up the lane.  Titus wrote and told me that a boy no older than Marcus ran to welcome the riders.  His father had been a man in black and the boy had called out thinking it was his papa, come to get him and his mother.” 

Quintus looked down at the floor. “They rode over the boy and when his mother ran after him they trampled her as well.  You see, she fit the bogus description I gave them as Selene.”

“Then whom did I bury?  I took the body of a woman from a cross.  She was burnt beyond recognition and so was the boy who hung next to her.  I thought it was Selene and Marcus.”

“Her name was Serena and the boy's name was Julius.  I believe she was your cook.  I’m sorry they had to die, but at least your family survived.  They left through the olive grove while the Praetorians were killing the slaves and setting fire to the house.  Titus took them to Gaul.  He was given his retirement parcel of land there and he’s been keeping them safe since then.”

Maximus lay back against the pillow.  “My family’s alive.  Selene and my son are alive.  How can I ever repay you, Quintus?”

“I only did what a friend asked me to do.”

Chapter Five

Two weeks later Quintus and his family left Rome.  Though most of their belongings would be packed and sent to Trujillo later, the guards at the Appian Gate commented to him as they checked his papers that he seemed to be taking half of Rome.  He told them that he was going to northern Italy to live.  He didn’t want Silvius to know he was going to Spain.  He would never be able to relax thinking that Silvius might send a spy to find out why Spain was more attractive than anywhere in the boot of Italy.

He laughed and bid the guards long and happy lives.  Now that Silvius was Prefect he doubted they would be happy or have long lives.  His former second in command cared nothing for his men and only cared about what his position could bring to his coffers.

Quintus’ caravan had four heavy wagons, full of clothes, furniture and food and servants for the long journey to Trujillo and one former general secreted safely away among the supplies. Although it would have been faster to sail, it was the wrong time of year.  The shipping lanes were now closed due to bad weather.  It made the trip far longer, but Maximus was content knowing that Selene and Marcus would be joining him there.  Quintus had sent greetings to Titus and requested that he and Rufinius join him in Spain.

To the casual reader, the letter would have seemed nothing more than a friend inviting friends to spend time in his new home.  When Titus read Quintus’ request to bring his beautiful sister and her son with them, he knew he meant Selene and Marcus. 

Titus spoke with Rufinius before telling Selene of the trip.  He was concerned that the request might be a trap.  If anyone knew that Maximus’ family had survived, they might still want them dead.  Rumors of Commodus’ death at the hands of a gladiator had arrived in Gaul and Pertinax was now Caesar.  Perhaps Pertinax had pardoned Maximus and his family was no longer under a death threat.  If that were the case, why wouldn’t Quintus have said so?

Both Titus and Rufinius agreed they would take Selene and Marcus to Spain, but they would use the same caution that had gotten them both through 25 years of warring.

The caravan still had to be careful. Quintus had told Maximus that he and Lucilla decided not to reveal that he was alive.  Quintus apologized for not asking him first if he would take the throne.  After all, Lucilla had found proof of Marcus Aurelius’ choice for successor.  Caesar had written the contract and signed it knowing Maximus would return and agree to become The Protector of Rome.  Commodus had quickly looked for a possible document, but since his father usually drew up his contracts at the time of signing, Commodus assumed he had waited and would have made the contract in front of Senator Gaius and Senator Falco. 

Because Marcus Aurelius didn’t fully trust his son to accept his choice of successor, Caesar had taken the document and hid it among his musings of the stoic life.  He knew Commodus hated those writings and would not bore himself with looking through each and every one.  If anything should happen to him, he was certain that Maximus would take the time to read what he had written. He only hoped that Maximus would find it quickly, sign the document in front of witnesses and take command. 

Caesar desperately didn’t want his son on the throne.  Rome needed a moral, honorable, strong man.  Commodus was none of these.  He knew Maximus would accept his offer, not from ambition, but because he loved his Caesar and he loved Rome.  He also knew the high price Maximus would pay for accepting.  Marcus knew full well that Rome was not ready to return to a Republic, but he couldn’t afford to scare Maximus by requesting he become Caesar.  Time and circumstance would dictate that and Maximus would have eventually accepted the Golden Laurel of power.  For a man like Maximus, that transition would have to come slowly.  Lucilla had also found these written thoughts.  Unfortunately, she had not found them until that fateful morning before Maximus’ last fight in the arena.

Quintus talked with Maximus one evening in front of their campfire.  Maximus was still weak and pale, but definitely getting better.  “If I had known of the contract, Maximus, I would have reacted differently.  I should have protected you as my new Caesar.”

Maximus stared into the fire.  “It would have made no difference, Quintus.  Commodus already had the men separated from both you and me.  You would not have been allowed to rally the troops.  Commodus would have had you killed.”

“But we could have shown the document to the Praetorians. They would have had to accept you and turn on Commodus for the patricide he was.”

Maximus smiled, “Oh, Quintus, you always thought me naive when it came to care of the men, longing for home, trying to treat our conquered enemy with respect.  But you are the one who is naïve.  Commodus would have made sure that the Praetorians he had with him were paid to follow him.  He would have promised them riches and land.  He may have even argued that his father was too old and feeble to make a competent decision.  No, Quintus, things played out as they did because Commodus orchestrated it that way.  Trust me, my friend, there was nothing you could have done.”

Quintus thought it over.  Maximus was right. Commodus had made certain things went his way.  “You know, I went to the arena to stop Commodus.  Lucilla showed me the document naming you as Caesar’s choice.  But I was too late.  Commodus stabbed you before I could say or do anything.  It seems I failed you over and over.  Why would you still call me friend?”

Maximus could see how guilt ridden his friend was.  He couldn’t seem to understand. 

“When the Praetorians found my executioners dead and I was nowhere to be found, who kept that secret?  Who sent Titus and Rufinius to save my family?  When Commodus and I were fighting in the arena, who ordered the Praetorians to sheath their swords? Who hid me and cared for me after my fall in the arena?  Who has kept the secret of my being alive, safe, so I could find peace?  Who but a friend would do all this?  Who but a friend?”

Quintus looked up at Maximus. “If it hadn’t been for my family, I would have died before giving the order for your execution.”

“Then the empire would have lost two good soldiers instead of one.”  Maximus thought for a moment, “You know Julianna came to me to plead your case.  I think she loves you very much.”

Julianna had never mentioned her audience with Maximus and Quintus was surprised to think she would go so far for him.  Perhaps she was afraid of losing his protection if Maximus sought vengeance?  No, she came from a wealthy patrician family.  If he were to die, Julianna would be sought after for her name and because she was still a very attractive woman.  She would have no problem finding another husband and protection for herself and their three children.  Did that mean she cared for him more than he realized?  She hadn’t questioned his motives for leaving Rome, even though she was born and raised in the city.  She could have objected.  Why didn’t she?

Maximus could see the thoughts play across his friend’s face.  “Did you ever tell her you love her?”

Quintus was not a romantic man.  He met his bride just days before the wedding, like many Roman men did.  Their marriage was a good match for both families and both Quintus and Julianna had done their duty as was expected.  He had never expected her love, only her participation in the marriage.  Somehow he’d fallen in love with her but couldn’t express those feelings. 

Julianna was a good wife and mother but she never expressed any feelings for him either.  When he came home on leave, she was always attentive and accepting of his attentions in their marital bed, but he never received any indication that it was more than her duty.

When he returned to the front he missed her and their children, but he carefully put them in a corner of his heart and ignored his feelings.  Maximus often told him he should be more open about his feelings, but Quintus was a private man.  Perhaps he was too private?  Had he kept his feelings to himself for fear of rejection?  If Julianna cared for him as he cared for her, had he wasted the last eleven years denying both of them love?

Quintus suddenly asked Maximus, “Do you need help getting into the wagon?  I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

Maximus smiled, “No, I can manage.”  As Quintus stood to leave he said, “Quintus, tell her you love her.”

He did just that.  He crept into the wagon he shared with his wife and gently woke her up.  “Julianna, I…I…I have a confession to make.”

Julianna put her hand on his face and said, “What is it, Quintus, what’s wrong?”

He held her hand to his face, closed his eyes and said, “I…I love you Julianna.  I know you may not feel the same, but…”

Before he could finish, Julianna sat up and hugged him.  “Oh, Quintus!  I've wanted to hear that for so long!  I love you, too.  I love you so much!”

For the next hour, Maximus could hear moans and giggles from Quintus’ wagon. He was happy for his friend.  Soon, Maximus would make Selene giggle that way. 

He thought of Selene.  He remembered her as she was four and a half years ago.  So much time had passed.  How much had she changed?  How much had Marcus changed?  They didn’t know yet that he was alive.  How would they react?  Did she still love him?  Had she perhaps met someone she wanted to marry?  Was she already re-married? Was he about to ruin her life by coming back into it? Wouldn’t it be ironic if he lost his wife and son after finally finding out they were still alive?  Would he be able to give up Selene to make her happy? He fell asleep wondering if he had lost his family to time, distance and his mistaken death.

Six weeks later, the caravan rumbled up the lane towards Quintus’ villa.  The slaves in the field ran to the house to greet their new owner.  The entire house staff waited while Quintus helped Julianna down from the wagon.  Their steward, Paulus, immediately introduced himself to the head cook and asked if the villa was ready to receive them.  She answered that it was and hurried to show them their rooms. 

As Maximus climbed slowly down from the wagon, he heard a gasp, “Master!”

Maximus turned and saw a young man staring at him.  “Crissus?  Crissus, you’re alive!  Thank the gods!”  He drew the young man into a brief hug.  “I thought you died with the rest of my familias.”

Crissus smiled, “No, Master, I was in the olive grove when those black bastards came.”  He lowered his head.  “I am ashamed to say that I ran and hid.  I came back several days later and buried those who were killed.  I’m sorry.”

Maximus put his hand on Crissus’ shoulder, “No more than I am for causing it to happen.”

“Why did they come, Master?  Why did they kill everyone?”

Maximus felt the guilt all over again.  “They did it because I refused to kiss the hand of a man who murdered his father.  It was my fault, Crissus, no one else’s.”

Crissus wasn’t sure exactly what Maximus meant, but he was happy to see his former master just the same.  Life on the Meridius farm had been good.  The domina was good to the workers and she took care of them, just as they took care of her.  Slaves weren’t simply property to the Meridii; they were seen as people with lives and feelings.  Even though slaves could not legally marry, they did have children.  Never had the children of slaves on the Meridii farm been sold away from their families. 

Of course now, he and three others belonged to this new master.  They all wondered for the last few weeks if he would be a good master or one who was indifferent to their needs.

Maximus rested four more days waiting for Titus and Rufinius to arrive with his family.  He slowly began to exercise by walking around the villa first, then he moved outside to inspect the buildings surrounding the farm.  Quintus had assigned Crissus to accompany Maximus anytime he ventured on one of his walks. 

It was late fall and the weather was beginning to turn cold and wet.  That didn’t stop him, though.  Maximus was familiar with this farm.  Being the next one to his, he and Selene had visited the owners on several occasions when he was home on leave. 

The Brunii family had been good neighbors and would often check on Selene.  That was how Crissus came to be here.  He told Maximus that he, Petar, Olivia and Corvianus had met at the far end of the property once the slaughter was over.  They decided to go to the Brunii farm and seek shelter.  After they told Marcianus Brunius what happened, he and his son rode to the Meridii farm and confirmed the story.

When they returned, Marcianus took the four slaves to the side and sternly told them they were to never speak of what happened again.  If anyone were to ask them, they were to say they were slaves of the Brunii and always had been. 

Maximus listened while Crissus told him of the aftermath, the days it took to bury all the bodies and the wonder in his voice when he said someone had been good enough to bury Serena and her boy.  He also told Maximus that he saw Selene and Marcus escape with two men.  “Thank God they got away!”

Maximus picked up on the use of God not gods, but he didn’t comment.  He knew the Christian belief was strongest in slaves because it gave them hope of a better life after death.  Even though he believed in his gods, Maximus saw no point in persecuting those who didn’t.  Even Marcus Aurelius scoffed at his being called a ‘God on Earth’.  He couldn’t openly sanction the Christian belief, it went against the Roman ideals, but he privately hated the violence in subduing people who didn’t use violence to change Rome.

Maximus remembered a conversation he had with Marcus one cold night in Germania.  The Emperor hated the games because it was cruel and wasteful.  He hated slavery because all men should own their own lives.  He abhorred the persecution of Christians because the Christians were not violent people. 

“I would correct these injustices, Maximus, if I could.  But it would be impossible at this point.  The empire relies too heavily on slaves, and the Christians appeal to slaves. The mob enjoys the games too much.  It will come though, believe me it will come, when the empire begins to fall.”

Maximus was stunned. “What do you mean, Sire?  The empire is strong.  Rome is the light.”

Caesar smiled, “Have I frightened you, Maximus?  I didn’t mean to. I don’t mean to imply that the empire is in danger of collapsing any time soon.  But it will come.  None of the great civilizations stood forever.  They always fall, crushed by their own greed.  We have many provincials in the empire.  They bring new ideas and diversity, but that very diversity weakens the central cohesiveness of the core ideas that set the civilization on its way to greatness.”

Maximus looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Sire. I’m a provincial.”

Marcus Aurelius reached out a long-fingered hand, laughed and slapped Maximus on the knee.  “I know, Maximus!  I wasn’t trying to blame provincials for Rome’s eventual downfall.”  His lined face sobered.  “But they will have a direct bearing.  The farther Rome moves into new territories, the more territory will have to be defended. That means bringing provincials in to defend it.  The further we move from Rome, the less Rome will mean to those who have never even seen her.  It is a spiral that will only stop if we stop claiming new lands.  If we stop taking new lands and resources, Rome will not be able to sustain the level of society it has always enjoyed.”  He shook his head, the thin white wisps of long hair making him look older and thinner than Maximus cared to acknowledge.  “Even though I hate to see Rome reduced, I can see it coming.  Not in your lifetime, nor your sons; perhaps not for a century or two.  But trust me, Maximus, it will come.”

Maximus was slowly walking among the olive trees.  His thoughts went to his own farm and the shell that was once his villa.  It had been a beautiful home made of pink stones and climbing vines.  The land was rich and fecund.  Now the house was but a burnt out shell and the land burned and salted.  He hadn’t yet gone to see what the last two years had brought, but rebuilding the villa would take time.  If the Praetorians had been in a hurry, as Crissus said, perhaps the land wasn’t as ruined as he feared.  He could only hope.

He sat on a stump and thought about how he would manage rebuilding the house.  The land and villa was his again through Lucilla’s generosity, but he was literally destitute.  Without money he couldn’t hire men to do the rebuilding.  He couldn’t even buy slaves.  Not that he would.  Having been a slave himself, he could not in good conscience, ever, own one again.  Even though Selene and he had always been good to their slaves, they were still property.  A man should not be seen as property.

As Caesar, Commodus had taken possession of all lands and wealth of those men he had considered traitors and had executed.  Among them were the gladiators in Proximos’ stable and Lucilla, as the only heir of Commodus, received all properties he owned after his death.  She had generously freed all those who had lived through the riot.  Maximus was, of course, included.  She had signed the papers for their freedom as a concession to Maximus, for the friendship they had shown him, and because she could not allow Maximus to go to the afterlife as a slave.  That was before she realized he was still alive.

Once Katia told her where Maximus was and that he was fighting for his life, Lucilla waited until she was sure he would live.  Only days after speaking with Quintus, Lucilla stood on the senate floor and stated her case, asking the Senate to restore Maximus’ status to patrician and remove all guilt for his part in Commodus’ death.  By doing so she created the opportunity for him to legally own the property which had been in his family for nearly 150 years.   This should have come along with restoration of his monetary wealth and his pay as General for the months he was held in slavery.  However, a dead man had no need for money.  The Senate saw the return of his land as a simple gesture, a way to physically show their respect.  It would no doubt sit unattended indefinitely until some Caesar in the future decided to re-conscript it on grounds that there were no heirs.

As he contemplated his financial position, the hair on the back of his neck stood up.  Someone was near.  He was a lion without teeth having left Quintus’ villa unarmed.  Even if he had his gladius, he would be no match for someone in better physical condition than he currently was.  He hadn’t brought Crissus along this time.  He wanted time to himself.  Perhaps it was Crissus looking for him?  At any rate, he hoped it was a friend.

Chapter Six

“General Maximus?  General Maximus!”  Rufinius couldn’t believe his eyes.  His former commander and friend sat on the stump of an old olive tree.  He never expected to see him again.  He and Titus both thought Maximus was dead.  Then again, they knew that if he had been told his family was to be executed, General Maximus Decimus Meridius would have moved heaven and hell to save them.  The Praetorians assigned to kill him must have underestimated him.  That was a mistake many Germanians had made, to their great regret.  They respected Maximus, they feared Maximus and they hated Maximus.  It would have been a great day for them if their efforts to capture him had become reality.

Maximus looked toward a stand of brush.  “Rufinius?”

He heard the rustling of brush then his friend and former centurion emerged.  “Rufinius!  What are you doing, my old friend?” 

Rufinius laughed and grabbed Maximus as he stood.  “I came to reconnoiter before bringing Selene and Marcus to see Quintus.  When we received the letter, we weren’t certain if it was a trap.”

The men talked for the next few minutes.  Maximus told Rufinius all that had happened while Rufinius asked questions.  “So the bastard actually thought he could finish the job!”  The bastard, of course, was Commodus.  Neither Titus nor Rufinius had ever been impressed by Commodus and some said that his mother had begotten him though a liaison with a gladiator.  Maximus never believed the rumors, but he did agree that Commodus was nothing like Marcus Aurelius.

“So, where are my wife and my son?  Are they well?” 

“They are not only well, they are very near.  Come, I will take you to them.”

As they moved toward the brush, Maximus stopped.  “Rufinius, before we go, I must ask you something.”

Rufinius stopped and turned around.  He could see concern in his former general’s face.  “What is it, sir?”

“I’ve been gone so long, first because of my duty, then, because everyone thought me dead.  Has…has Selene considered anyone in my absence?  I mean, I would expect that she might.”

“Maximus, Selene has had suitors in Gaul.  Many of them were important men.  But not once did she consider even one of them.  She knew Titus considered it a privilege to have her in his home. We both think of her like a sister.  She asked only once if Titus or I expected her to marry.  When we said no, she asked that we not entertain any more suitors.  She was already married and would be until death.  If you are worried about Selene being happy to see you, have no fear.  She has mourned you from the moment Titus and I arrived and she would the rest of her life.  Now come, General.”

They moved through the scrubby brush and up a fairly steep incline, then down to a quiet bowl where a stand of trees in the middle of the bowl sheltered three tents and a wagon.  A woman stood in front of a campfire stirring a pot.  Maximus couldn’t tell positively but he thought it was Selene.  Her hair was black and hung to her waist, held back only by a leather thong.  Her figure was still as luscious as ever and her movements were graceful.

He longed to run to her.  He wanted nothing more than to hold his precious wife, but he felt he should take it slow.  He was about to ask Rufinius to approach her and let her know he was alive.  He didn’t want to shock her.  He started to turn to his trusted centurion when he saw Titus arrive with two dead rabbits and a young boy, Marcus, his son.  How he’d changed!  The last time Maximus saw him he was only six.  The boy was taller and more filled out now.  His formerly blonde hair had darkened and was now brown.

“Rufinius,” he whispered, “I don’t want to scare them.  Please go down and explain that I am here.  I’ll wait for your signal.”

Rufinius did as requested.  Maximus stayed concealed in the brush, watching as Rufinius approached Selene.  Shortly he heard a cry, “Where?”

She turned and began running toward the place Maximus was hidden.  “Maximus! Maximus!  Where are you?” 

He stepped out of the brush just as she started up the small rise.  When she stopped Maximus could see tears on her face.  “I’m home, darling. I’m sorry I’m so late.”  He choked out those words as he moved to her.

They met in a tangle of sobs and hugs. Neither one could fully comprehend what the other one said.  It wasn’t until Maximus crushed her in an iron hug and kissed her lips they both stopped babbling.

Selene was in the arms of the man she never thought she would see again.  She wept as she never had before.

Suddenly Maximus laughed.  The world was right again.  He had his beautiful Selene and soon he would be with his son. 

They finally untangled and turned to walk down to the little encampment.  Maximus had his arm around Selene’s waist and she had hers around his.  She kept looking up at her husband.  She never thought to see his handsome face again. In fact so many years had passed since they last saw each other, and she couldn’t clearly picture his face the day Titus and Rufinius came to take Marcus and her to safety.  There were only impressions, like the color of his eyes, the bow of his mouth, his dark hair and strong body.  Many were the nights she cried, wishing she could just see him one more time.

As she looked at him she realized he seemed more like the man she’d first met.  He had been more slender, not filled out yet.  He had only come home four times in their eleven-year marriage.  On each return he had added weight, not fat, bulk.  But it was his eyes that changed the most.  With each homecoming the increased responsibility he bore added dark circles and they seemed to have lost the laughter behind them.  Once home that changed.

She squeezed him to her as they walked and she felt him wince.  “Maximus, are you hurt?”

He laughed, “I’ve never felt better!”

As they approached Titus, Rufinius and Marcus, Maximus could see the puzzled look on his son’s face. 

“Papa?”  He hesitated, “Papa, you look so skinny!”  The boy ran to hug his father and both laughed through tears.

Maximus winced again but tried to cover it up. 

“Maximus, you are hurt!  What happened?”

He smiled at his concerned wife.  “I haven’t eaten since this morning.  Why don’t you serve the food and I’ll tell you.”

Once Maximus finished telling them everything from the moment the Praetorians took him from the legion, to his fight with Commodus in the arena, Titus said nearly the same thing as Rufinius.  “Well, I always knew Commodus was a fool, but even I would never have thought he would be so stupid as to challenge you in the arena.”

Maximus looked into the campfire. “He wouldn’t have if he hadn’t wounded me before the match.  He stabbed me in the back while I was trussed in chains and helpless.”

“By the gods!”  Rufinius exclaimed.  “Ever the coward!”

Selene gently put a hand on her husband’s back.  “Is that the wound that is bothering you?  Is that why you’re so skinny and pale?”

“Yes, but that is also why I’m here.  Right after I killed Commodus, I fell.  Everyone thought I was dead.  When Lucilla sent her personal servant, Katia, to clean me for burial, she realized I was still alive.  Publius, Petrus, Antoinus and Claudius came to the arena looking to steal my body and they captured her.  They knew she would know where I was.  When she told them I was still alive, they killed the Praetorians and secreted me out.  They took me to Quintus' villa and he hid me until we could leave Rome. He bought this farm and Lucilla gave me the deed to our farm.  The senate allowed it as a concession.  Of course they don’t know that I’m alive and they certainly don’t expect me to be living on the property.”

“Then what is the point, Maximus?  Pertinax could conscript it back.”

“Rufinius is right, Maximus.  Why stay here?  You might be writing your own death sentence all over again.  Remember you still have the loyalty of the legions.  They would rally to you once they knew you were alive.”  Titus was willing to alert their friends in Felix III.

“No, Titus!  Once things calm down and Lucilla advises me of the political climate in Rome, I will write to Caesar and explain the circumstances.  I don’t ever want to command a legion, much less many legions, again.  I will make it clear to Caesar that I want nothing more than to remain anonymous and to be a simple farmer.  He will have my loyalty but not my service."

He looked at Selene, so beautiful.  He never thought he’d see her again, never thought he’d have the chance to tell her he loved her again.  Was he being a fool to stay here?  What if Rufinius was right?  What if Pertinax overrode Lucilla’s gift to him and gave the property to someone else?  As Caesar, he owned everything in the empire.  What would happen when they came to claim his property?

“Titus, Rufinius, I know it is a lot to ask, you both have lives of your own to lead, but would you consider staying for a while?  I would feel better if you were here should something happen.”

Titus answered first, “Of course, General. We would be honored.”

They packed up the camp and moved to Quintus’ villa. 

Maximus and his family stayed with Quintus’ family only one more month, long enough for Maximus to fully heal.  When he announced he would begin rebuilding his villa, Quintus knew it would be a hard backbreaking job without help.  He gave Maximus the four slaves that had once belonged to him. 

When Maximus started to object, Quintus said, “First of all, they were never of the Brunii household.  They earned their keep and I suspect Marcianus included them in the price of the villa to insure they would have a place to stay. He probably wanted to keep them from being identified as slaves that escaped execution.  It was better for him and them.  Second, there is no way Titus, Rufinius and you can make enough progress rebuilding your villa unless you have more help.  I have more than enough slaves.  You need them more than I do.”

Maximus gratefully accepted and thanked Quintus for his generosity.

During the short journey to his land, Maximus told his slaves that he would free them as soon as he had the money to pay for their manumission.  Until then, the best he could offer was food and a place to stay. 

“I promise your loyalty will be repaid.”  He laughed, “I only hope it will come before you are too old to enjoy it.”

Maximus didn’t understand that none of the four would have left of their own free will. Their families were buried here and they were happy to be under service of the Meridii again.  They had all heard from Quintus’ house slaves, that General Maximus had killed the man who had their families executed.  They were satisfied that he did not bring the destruction as a traitor, but as a man who could not relinquish his honor.  They also knew he never expected his family and familias to be murdered.

Maximus had apologized to Selene several times for not giving her the home she deserved.  The villa had only three rooms that were livable and the slave’s quarters were only marginal.  But they had made improvements enough to live there. 

Each time he apologized, Selene would smile and tell him, “I would live in a tent for the rest of my life as long as you were with me.  I don’t need a beautiful home, but I do need you.”

The most important concern was in gathering fruit from the trees that hadn’t sustained damage and harvesting the small patches of winter wheat that escaped the fires.  The fruit, wheat and the meat Maximus provided when he went hunting, was their only sustenance and they counted themselves lucky to have it.

The farm was slowly beginning to take shape.  Since the villa was the only building that had enough room to dine in, Maximus and Selene ate with Titus, Rufinius and their slaves as well as their children.  In former times, this would never have happened.  Their guests, Titus and Rufinius would have joined them, but the children would have been fed first and put to bed. The slaves would have eaten in the kitchen.  Now however, the kitchen was barely large enough to cook in and everyone spent all day everyday just trying to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. 

Maximus and Selene talked many times about his time as a slave and how he no longer had an ego about being the ‘Master’.  He also explained his need to keep his family and familias close so he could afford them some sort of protection.  They had even spoken of escape routes and made plans should Rome’s newest Emperor prove to be paranoid and decide to remove Maximus and his claim to the throne.

One evening after a particularly difficult day in the fields, Maximus smiled ruefully and commented, “I said I wanted to be a simple farmer, but I didn’t mean this simple.” 

After finishing cena, Olivia, a tall well shaped, dark haired beauty helped Selene clean the dishes while Maximus went to sit on the front porch.  As had become their custom, Crissus, Petar and Corvianus joined him along with Titus and Rufinius.  In the evenings they planned what they would do the next day.

It had been over a year since Maximus had returned and his slaves had never been told the whole story of why the villa was attacked.  “Master?  Would you tell us exactly what happened, why the Praetorians came?  Quintus’ slaves told us that you killed the man responsible for our family’s deaths but they didn’t tell us why it happened.”  Corvianus was a slightly built man with deep brown eyes and a perpetual smile.

“Corvianus, I would appreciate it if you would not call me Master anymore. Maximus will do, I have told you before. You are not my slaves…”

“But Mas...Maximus that is what we are.”

“What you are are men.  Even Marcus Aurelius recognized that.  You are only my property because you don’t yet have a paper that says otherwise.  I never thought of you, or any of my familias as property.  I always thought that as long as my slaves were well taken care of, there was nothing wrong with having them.  I was wrong.  It wasn’t until I became a slave that I fully understood.”

“You were a slave?  How? When?”  Crissus couldn’t believe what he heard.

“I was ordered to be executed by Commodus as a traitor.  He was the traitor.  He killed his father and took his crown.  He had to get rid of me or face my legions. I managed to kill my executioners and set out to save my family. Unfortunately, I was wounded in the shoulder and it became infected.  I rode hard trying to get here, but the Praetorians arrived first. When the Praetorians came they meant to kill everyone.  It was only thanks to Quintus, Titus and Rufinius that Selene and Marcus escaped.

I found everyone dead and buried Serena and Julius thinking they were Selene and Marcus.  I was very ill and fainted on their graves.  When I awoke I found myself with slavers.  They took me with them to Zucchabar in Africa.  There I was sold to the owner of a gladiator stable.”

Petar exclaimed, “You were a gladiator?”

“Yes.  I hated it.  I was forced to kill men I had no reason to kill except to survive.  Proximo, my new master, saw a great opportunity to make money from me.  I was the best gladiator he had.  When Commodus finally realized he was unpopular with Rome’s common people he announced that he was hosting 150 days of games in honor of his father even though his father had died nearly two years earlier.  That’s when Proximo decided to take us to Rome to fight.”

Crissus asked, “But I thought Roman law didn’t allow patricians to become slaves.  Why didn’t you tell someone what happened?”

Maximus had never told this slave how very much he liked him.  It would have been unseemly to do so before his fall from general and he just hadn’t done it since.  Crissus had been more than a slave, he had watched over Selene and Marcus personally.  Being a very tall, strong man he thought he could defend them against anyone.  Unfortunately, he had been in the fields when the raid happened and he was too far away to join Selene and Marcus when they fled but he was immensely relieved that they were with soldiers.

“Who could I tell, Crissus?  I was under a death sentence.  If I had gone to the courts, Commodus would have been told and they would have done the job proper the second time.  My only hope was to go to Rome and somehow kill Commodus while fighting in the arena.”

“You were the gladiator who killed Commodus?”  Petar couldn’t believe he had killed Caesar and lived.

“Yes, Petar, I did.  I did it for Marcus Aurelius, for my family and familias and for Rome.  I never expected to live through it.  If it weren’t for Quintus I wouldn’t have.  He stopped his Praetorians from giving Commodus a sword when he lost his and I was too weak to hold mine.  Commodus, though, had a knife hidden in his garments and he tried to kill me with it.  I used what strength I had left to turn it on him and kill him.  Then I fell. 

"My men from Felix III came to take my body for burial and they found out I was alive. They risked their lives to save me just as Quintus did.  Even the gladiators I lived with tried to help me when a plot to smuggle me out of Rome went wrong.  Many of them were killed.”  He whispered quietly, “I owe my life to so many friends.”

Titus quietly spoke.  “No, Maximus, they owed you theirs.  How many times did you save us?  How many times did you join the battle and fight side by side with us when no one expected a general to do that?  How many times did you come to the infirmary to see us after the battle?  How many other generals were concerned about our well being and offered prayers to the gods when those of us died.  We weren’t just instruments for winning a battle; we were men, friends, and brothers in arms.  You never saw in you what we did because it comes naturally to you. Even as a gladiator you helped the men you lived with win a major battle and on several occasions after that you helped them to survive.  Who else would have done that?  You, Maximus…only you. You expected us to respect our adversaries and show mercy because you have a conscience.  That is why Marcus Aurelius wanted you to take the throne.”

“The Emperor wanted you to become Caesar?”  Corvianus was completely in awe.

“Yes, he did.  But you must forget you heard that, all of you.  If anyone in Rome finds out that I am alive and have claim to the throne we would all be at risk.  So for your own good and for the good of us all, forget what you heard.”

Quiet Petar spoke up, “But you could be emperor.  You would be the most powerful man in the world.  Why wouldn’t you want that?”

“Petar, I spent a great deal of time with Caesar Marcus Aurelius, and if I learned anything from him it was that he was more of a slave than I had been.  Oh, he had beautiful homes and people who served him.  He had the power of life and death.  But for a man to be a good emperor, he must see the big picture.  He must make decisions that he doesn’t want to make, he must struggle with his conscience and he must take responsibility for his actions.  Those actions affect millions of people.  He has to do such things as marry his daughter to a man she didn’t love in order to make an alliance that was good for the empire.  He had to order men in the legions to their deaths to keep a parcel of land.  He had to go against his own wishes to free slaves and stop the persecution of Christians, and so many other things that he wanted, in order to serve the empire for all the people.  This was at a very personal cost.  No, Petar, I didn’t want to be Emperor.”

A year and half later, Maximus received word from Lucilla that Pertinax was murdered only months after he took the throne.  Didus Julianus succeeded him and lasted only two months.  Since then Rome was in chaos.  Now however, Septimius Severus, a former General of Maximus’ acquaintance, wore the purple.

Lucilla was hopeful that Severus would prove to be the kind of Caesar her father was.  Although she understood Maximus’ need to make certain the ownership of his land was not in doubt, she didn’t feel he should reveal that he was still alive.  She wasn’t sure if Severus would pardon Maximus or send another cohort of Praetorians to finish what her brother had started.

Maximus took into consideration Lucilla’s concerns but he was tired of worrying about someone showing up to take possession of his land. So he sat down and wrote the letter he had held off writing to Pertinax.

Hail Caesar!

I send greetings from Spain where I have been living since disposing of Commodus.  I am writing to explain my actions and to affirm to you that Caesar has my loyalty.   

In order to prove that loyalty, former Augusta Lucilla Aurelia has provided proof of my succession to the throne.  I never wanted the power I held as Commander of the North.  I accepted it because my emperor asked me to.  I never sought the golden laurel after Caesar Marcus Aurelius’ son murdered him then placed himself on the throne illegally.  I sought only to avenge my Caesar, my family and give Rome an opportunity to place a proper ruler on the throne.  If I had been ambitious, I believe you, more than anyone else, would understand that I could have taken my rightful place as Marcus Aurelius wanted.

Again, Caesar, I did not want that then, nor do I want that now.  I swear my loyalty and swear that I will never be a threat to your position.  I furthermore request that you allow me to be the simple farmer that I have always wanted to be.  

General Maximus Decimus Meridius

When Lucilla, in a private meeting with Caesar, presented Severus the letter Maximus wrote and the contract Marcus Aurelius signed, he knew how much power Meridius had given up.  He could have taken the throne by force if need be and he would have been vindicated for doing it.  Instead, he had slipped silently away and left Rome to the politicians and praetorian. 

Severus was aware for many years that Maximus wished only to return to his family and Spain.  They had talked about it many times.  He had no doubt that General Meridius was an honorable man and would not turn his back on the pledge he made.

“Lady Lucilla,” he said, “please return tomorrow and I will have an answer for General Meridius.  I would rather keep his existence quiet.  I don’t want the senators to know he still lives.  Do not attach any implied harm to this request.  I only seek to give a good man the opportunity to live his life as he wishes.”  He leaned forward and said, “Besides, what better ally could I have than a loyal General hidden away should Rome ever need to call on his services?”

When the letter from Severus arrived, Maximus was almost reluctant to open it.  It could be a request that he return to Rome to face punishment for killing Commodus or it could be a request that he return to the army. 

Selene was there with Marcus and Maximus’ newest son, Titus Rufinius, named for the two men who had kept his wife and son safe.  She watched as he opened the letter and read it quickly.  He closed his eyes and sighed.  She wanted to know what that meant, but was afraid that the answer was not one she wanted to hear.

He turned to her. “It is over.  The only reservation Septimius Severus imposed was his inability to release me from service.  He has placed me on retirement indefinitely but assures me that if Rome needs me he will expect me to respond.  He added that if he proves to be a good Caesar, he would have no need of my services.  In addition he is sending a gift for my loyalty.  He says it will arrive in a few days.”

The ‘gift’ from Severus arrived only days later.  There were several trunks filled with clothes, scrolls of the best writings from Greek and Roman authors and one trunk filled with jewels and coins.  Along with these things was a missive from Caesar Severus.  It read:

To General Maximus Decimus Meridius,

Greetings from Rome.  I have tried to anticipate the things you would appreciate and the things which you might need in returning your home to its former standing. I send these few trinkets in thanks for your exceptional service to our past Caesar, Marcus Aurelius,

I wish to accept your loyalty and assure you that it is appreciated.  To this end, I have enclosed a warrant which excuses any and all wrong doing in the disposal of Commodus, as well as any misunderstanding in losing your station as a patrician of Rome.  The property that was given to you by Lady Lucilla and the Senate is yours by my hand under the name ‘Decimus’. this should assure that if the title is checked by anyone who is either your enemy or mine that they will not realize that you are still alive.  It is yours and the ownership will never be in doubt henceforth.  In short, General Meridius, I hold you in the highest regard and expect that in the future you will hold me in the same regard that you held Marcus Aurelius. 

I have told no one in Rome that you are still a force in the empire, but I will sleep more soundly since I know you are there.  I wish you success in being a farmer and hope that you will have a long and happy life.

Caesar Septimius Severus, Augustus

Maximus read and reread the letter from his Caesar.  His heart sang.  He now had the blessing of his emperor to be what he always wanted to be, a simple farmer living with his family and able to increase that family to many more children.  He now had money to rebuild his home, to free his slaves and to live the life he always expected.

That night, he knelt before his family lares and prayed to the gods that the future would not change.  If the gods wished it, he would one day die old, with his children, grandchildren and perhaps, if the gods were merciful, even great-grand children, mourning his passing.

His ‘death’ was just the beginning.  Elysium could not be better.

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE

I felt I should explain that, I, like many writers who use history for a backdrop, have manipulated history to suit the story I told.  Obviously Maximum is fictitious but Septimius Severus, Pertinax and Julianus were real.  They came after Commodus was killed by a wrestler he spared with and that was several years after he took the throne.  I hope you will forgive me for bending history.  This is the second story of Maximus in which I did it, but I am in good company since the writers of Gladiator started the whole thing.  Long live Maximus!