Three days later Maximus was up and around. His back still hurt but he was well on the mend. His fever had broken the night Katlin put in the vile stitches. He had to admit she had been far gentler than the army doctors were. They seemed to consider a wound to be nothing more than meat to be handled. Kate had taken care to cause as little pain as possible and watched over him for the first two days, alternating with Juba.

He woke that first morning after and saw her lying on the pallet Juba made. Her fair skin and beautiful reddish-blonde hair reminded him of Britannia. He’d seen many women with the same complexion and hair color in that cold northern province. He must be getting better. His body told him he needed a woman. He put that thought away immediately. His wife, Selene, was dead and he wouldn’t insult her memory with thoughts of another woman, even if they were only lustful thoughts.

Kate awoke with a start and saw Maximus watching her. She had been dreaming, not pleasant dreams. She relived the fight with the two Praetorians. In her dream her late husband was standing in the jail next to Gracchus. He kept shouting for her to kill the Praetorians. “Kill them, kill them all! Men are the downfall of the world! Show them the Amazon that you are. Take their seed then kill them like a black widow spider!”

Why had she dreamed that? Her husband often said men were ruining the world with their wars, man-made famines, disease and greed. But he never showed her anything but a mild temper and quiet manner. What would he think if he had ended up here instead of her? What would he make of Maximus?

“Bad dream?” His voice, so deep and commanding when they spoke before, seemed almost soft and concerned.

“Why would you think that?”

“I heard you call out earlier. Who is Marlin?” His eyes seemed softer today, not so piercing.

She stood up and moved to the water pitcher that sat on a table near the doorway. Juba had brought more water in case she needed it during the night. He didn’t want her walking around an unfamiliar building in the dark.

Kate stepped back to Maximus’ bed and poured water in the bowl. She wrung out the cloth that lay in the bowl and soaked the bloody spots where the sheet clung to Maximus’ back. It was much easier than the first time. Most of the cuts were closing and the ones she sewed showed no evidence of infection. She touched his forehead and was pleased that the fever was apparently gone.

As she started to move her hand he caught it and held her. She looked at his hand, so big it completely engulfed hers. He asked again, “Who is Marlin?”

“My…my husband. He’s dead.”

“How?”

“He was very sick.”

“The plague?”

“No. He had Parkinson’s Disease.” When Maximus lifted his eyebrow in question, she explained. “It’s a neurological disease.” She had to say neurological since she didn’t know of any Latin word that came close. She tried again to make him understand. “It affects the muscles and brain functions. In the early stages the patient tends to shake, later on it becomes impossible to walk. The patient becomes completely incapacitated. It’s a long, slow, miserable death, especially for someone who is used to spending hours thinking, recording his thoughts and going to archaeological sites to glean information.”

“What kind of thoughts?” Kate tugged and Maximus let her hand go.

“Marlin was a researcher. He solved questions by gathering all the facts and then postulating an answer. He was a very intelligent man. It always fascinated me how he could ‘see’ things like a puzzle that only he could put together.”

“What sort of puzzles did he solve?”

“Historical puzzles.” She smiled, “His biggest undertaking was whether or not Troy really existed and did Homer make up the story of Helen of Troy or was it based on historical fact.”

“And what was his answer?”

“I’ll never know. His mind clouded many months before he died. He didn’t even know me.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and drifted back to sleep.

Two days later Kate came to Maximus and indicated she needed to remove the stitches. The cloth thread could cause more trouble than it solved if it bound to his skin. The cuts were closing well enough and even though removing them so soon would leave him with scars, she knew Maximus wouldn’t be concerned. He had many worse scars from former battles.

As she worked on him he contemplated her soft touch. “I heard you tell Juba that you had no children. Why didn’t you remarry?”

Kate thought about that before answering. “Where I come from women are allowed to choose their mate. We aren’t bargained to the groom’s family in order to make a good alliance. My job was enough.”

“So you think Romans are devoid of love?”

“No, but it isn’t high on the agenda. Are you saying you married from love?”

Maximus had to admit he hadn’t. He met Selene like many Roman men only weeks before the marriage. It was his duty to his family to marry and have children and though he wished for love, he knew that would perhaps come later. He was completely surprised when he met his wife-to-be. She was not only beautiful, she was intelligent, and given to laughter. They had only two weeks to get to know one another, but on the day of their marriage, they had already found affection on which to build a good marriage.

This morning, Tyre came to Maximus’ room looking for him. He saw his friend trying to do some stretching. “Kate will have your head if you re-open those wounds.”

Maximus smiled then quickly sobered. “Tyre, we’ve been here too long. Someone is liable to notice. We need to leave Rome.”

Tyre was a Celt. Enslaved when his tribe lost a minor skirmish. He was the only Celt not wounded and was brought back to the Roman compound in chains. His friends were put to the sword as he watched helplessly. Several months later, he was sold to a salt mine owner and worked for three years there. Not many lasted that long. He lived to someday take his revenge on Rome for the deaths of his friends and for his family who may or may not be dead. His wife was pregnant with their third child the day he left to do battle. Without him there to help her, he was afraid she and their children wouldn’t survive.

He constantly looked for ways to escape. One day he found it. When the guards caught up with him, he was sure he’d be killed. Slaves that escaped were punished severely and he knew few survived. Instead of punishing him and possibly wasting the chance to gain money from the strong slave, his owner immediately ordered the guards to take him to the slave market and sell him. They did and he found himself some months later in a gladiator school learning the nuances of that trade. It was there at Proximo’s school that he met Maximus.

Only one man knew who the general was back then. Brennson recognized him from Vindabonna but never revealed he knew until the day when they all fought for their lives during the re-creation of the second battle of Carthage. When Maximus asked if any of them were soldiers, Brennson answered that he had been with him at Vindabonna.

Maximus commanded the gladiators and directed their defense. He knew they would stand no chance of defeating the charioteers with their archers, and fast-moving vehicles with scythes on the wheels, unless they worked together. He made them use their shields in a semi turtle to unbalance one of the chariots and overturn it. He quickly freed one of the horses from the ruined chariot and mounted. It was easier to direct the battle from horseback, and he led a second chariot into a trap. Even with only spears and shields he turned his gladiators into a fighting unit, deadly and unstoppable. In the end, what should have been a devastating defeat, turned into an unexpected victory. From that day forward, the men who had fought with Maximus looked up to him as their unsaid leader. He had not only saved their lives, but he gave them back their dignity; they were no longer just slaves and gladiators, they were warriors.

The stocky sandy-haired Celt shook himself from his reverie. “Yes, you're right. And we have another problem. Food is in short supply. There’s not enough to last another day.”

“Maximus,” they both turned to the slave’s access way as Juba stepped in. “We have a problem. The Praetorian Prefect, the one who was with Commodus, is in the compound. He’s been looking around.”

Quintus. “Has he seen anyone? Does he look as if he suspects that we are here?”

The men and Kate had been using the little passageways usually used by slaves to come and go without disturbing the master or mistress of the school. Since the passageways allowed access to the entire residence without leaving the building, it made things easier when keeping away from prying eyes.

“No. He’s alone. We all kept in the house waiting to see what he’d do. Should we capture or kill him?”

“Kill him, Maximus. He’s with Commodus. He’ll send his troops back here and slaughter us all, or send us in chains to the arena.” Tyre couldn’t go back to that place. He’d make sure he died before that happened.

Maximus stood up and straightened his back as much as possible. “I will go and see what he wants.”

Tyre looked at Juba. They were both thinking the same thing. Maximus was being reckless. That same man had ordered Maximus’ execution in Vindabonna two years earlier, but with the gods' mercy, he had killed his executioners and escaped. His family had not been so fortunate. His wife and young son had been slaughtered along with all his slaves, and his villa and lands had been destroyed.

“Keep the men inside. I don’t want Quintus to know that anyone is here except me. If he has his men waiting outside the compound, then take Gracchus and Kate out the secret passageway. There’s a fork to the left just before the exit where I was captured. It leads to the cloaca. Once there, scatter. Run and don’t look back.”

Juba sighed. “Have you forgotten that Kate went to the marketplace?”

He had. Juba had given him the bag of money and the sheaves of paper, notes that could be cashed at one of the empire’s money exchanges. Kate had found several tunics and sandals that had apparently belonged to Proximo’s concubine. She wore one of them that morning. He liked her much better in the Roman clothes. She looked too much like a man in her own. When he mentioned to Kate that they didn’t know what was going on outside of the compound, she volunteered to go to the marketplace to see what she could find out. He initially argued against it. She countered that the only people who knew her were either dead or living in the compound. No one would suspect her. Maximus knew that was true.

He reluctantly agreed and told her to be careful. She had to leave by the secret passageway and make her way through the clearing to the street above, near the bridge. He gave her two coins and told her to buy something while at the market.

When she objected, he told her, “You’ll be perceived as a Patrician. They’ll be curious why you don’t have a litter, why you don’t have slaves with you and why you’re dressed as a concubine. Don’t call attention to yourself more than necessary, make it seem as though you are doing something daring, mixing casually with the commoners without an escort. Buy something, anything. A Patrician wouldn’t come without at least some money.”

He was worried now that Kate might be left on her own. If Quintus was here with troops they might all die shortly and Kate could return to another pyre and no one to help her. Ordinarily he would have given her some money and sent her on her way. But she was alone in Rome and she had helped them. His honor demanded that he protect her.

Quintus Clarus stood looking up at the second floor walkway of the school’s residence. When he saw Maximus walk out of one of the rooms he smiled. He had been right about where Maximus would hide. He always told Quintus, “Hide in the open. It’s the last place your enemy will look.” His old friend might want him dead, but he also needed his help. There was no way Maximus could leave Rome without it.

Quintus stood waiting, watching as Maximus made his way down the stairway. It was obvious that he was still feeling the effects of the beating he was given.

“So, Quintus, you know where I’ve been hiding. What are you going to do, have me chained and dragged through the streets or kill me now and place my head on a spike?”

“Neither, Maximus. I’m alone. I didn’t know about the escape or your capture until after it happened. I had no part in it.”

“After what happened in Vindabonna, am I supposed to believe you?”

“No. Nor would I believe you if our roles were reversed. But, I swear Maximus, I believed I was doing my duty. I didn’t know Marcus Aurelius was murdered until after I spoke to the physician, Marcianus. He caught me alone and told me the emperor had been strangled. By then it was too late. They had already taken you for execution and Commodus dispatched Praetorians to your home. I wasn’t allowed to mix with the men. I only spoke with Marcianus because he had to verify the emperor’s death and sign the death declaration. He was made to write down ‘natural causes’. I didn’t know then what I know now. I should have protected you.”

“What do you think you know now and how did you come to this enlightenment? ”

Quintus dropped to his knees in front of Maximus. “ I know that you are my rightful emperor. That Commodus killed his father for the golden laurel. Lucilla found Marcus Aurelius’ will. It was in some of the things that were brought back from Germania. He named you his son, since your adoptive father was dead and he named you his successor. She shared it with me the morning after your capture. I watched as Commodus intimidated Lucilla, threatening her and Lucius. He’s sick, mad. He and Falco went off to ready their selves for the games and I helped Lucilla back to her rooms. She was exhausted and scared. She asked me if I was loyal to Commodus or Rome. I told her, Rome. That’s when she showed me the will with Marcus Aurelius’ signature and seal.”

“So, Quintus, your loyalty changes again. Get up.”

He answered as he stood up. “I was never loyal to Commodus, Maximus. I was loyal to Rome. Once we arrived here I tried to find a way to get rid of Commodus, but he had Praetorians that are bound to him either through money or threats to their families. I think he looks on me as a loyal dog. He keeps me to remind himself that he defeated you while using your friend to do his bidding. I didn’t want to send you to your death. I even hoped you’d take his hand and swear loyalty, then work to unseat him afterward.”

“How could I do that, Quintus? How could I swear loyalty to the man who killed his father? A man as dear to me as my own father?”

Quintus looked down at Maximus’ feet. “You couldn’t, I understand that now.” He raised his head and looked his old friend directly in the eyes. “If I could undo what I did, I would. But I can’t. I can only ask for your forgiveness and offer my help.”

Maximus thought through what Quintus said. He could see the situation Quintus had been in. If Quintus had refused, Commodus would have simply had him killed and then worked his way down the ranks of officers until he found one that would comply. “If you help us and we are caught, Commodus will be unmerciful.”

“I know that, but he must be stopped. Lucilla was the one who betrayed you. Commodus threatened to kill Lucius if she didn’t do exactly as he wished. Maximus, he wants Lucilla to bear his children! He can’t be left to do more damage than he already has.”

Maximus needed to think and standing in the hot sun was sapping what little strength he’d regained. “Come. I need some wine and it would be easier to sit and talk than stand out here.”

Kate was just reaching the top of the stairway that led to the secret exit. She saw Maximus standing in front of Proximo’s residence. A tall slim man stood talking to him. She realized instantly that the man was a Praetorian and possibly the Prefect himself judging from his helmet and insignias. What was he doing here and why hadn’t he dragged Maximus away? She decided to follow them and see for herself.

Slowly she stepped up the last step and moved quickly along the outer wall to the covered walkway below the second story. She heard voices and grabbed the new dagger she bought in the market. She eased through the front door and moved to the room Proximo had used for a study. Peeking through the curtain that hung in front of the door she made sure she knew where the Praetorian was in relationship to Maximus. They were both sitting on chairs: Maximus facing the entryway and the Praetorian with his back to her.

Maximus saw her as she slid quietly inside. She showed him the dagger and indicated to him that she would defend him if necessary. Maximus smiled at her and shook his head ‘no’.

Quintus realized someone was standing behind him and stood quickly, turning to see if it was one of Maximus’ gladiators come to kill him. His hand was on his sword ready to draw. He smiled when he saw it was a woman with a dagger. “What do you think you could do with that, little sparrow?”

Before Kate could form a retort, Maximus cleared his throat and said, “I wouldn’t patronize that particular sparrow, Quintus. She killed two of your Praetorian guards, one in hand-to-hand.”

“I didn’t realize there was a gladiatrix at the arena.”

Sparks flew from Kate’s eyes. “I’m no gladiatrix! What do you want here? If you think I’ll stand quietly by and watch you kill Maximus or drag him back to the Amphitheater, think again.”

Quintus laughed and Maximus smiled. “Quintus Clarus, may I present Katlin Moore. Kate, Quintus.”

Quintus bowed and saluted her. “My Lady.” Quintus was impressed. The lady was beautiful and spirited, obviously of equine blood or higher.

“Kate, why don’t you go find Gracchus and ask him to join us? Then start packing. Just some basics, we leave tonight.”

“But, Maximus, he’s the Prefect of the Praetorian. You can’t trust him. He’ll see all of us dead or in chains.”

“Quintus is a long-time friend.”

“Really? And where was that friend when you needed him?”

“Kate, I told you to get Gracchus.” He had his Commander’s face on and would brook no arguments.

“Yes, my lord,” she did a mock bow and her voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ll take my lowly self and do your bidding, great general.” She turned to Quintus and pointed the dagger at him. “Remember what I said, or I’ll send Commodus your head on a platter.” She turned and stormed out.

Once she left, both men burst out in laughter. Quintus was first to sober. “Ah, Maximus, you were always good at inspiring loyalty.”

Kate was fuming. Maximus acted as though she was nothing but a woman. He knew she was no simpleton and that she could fight. Why was he closing her out of his war council? Why was he keeping his plans between a man who was highly suspect, a senator who by his own admission was not a fighter, and himself? Not even Tyre or Juba was invited. Fine, she would wait until he needed something and then remind him that he would have to find someone, worthier than her, to help him.

Then again, she thought, he was a Roman male and a patrician. Even though he wasn’t born into that world he had come up the hard way and like most people who raised themselves on their own grit alone, he was proud of what he’d accomplished. It was hard won and not to be put aside easily. He would naturally want to hold onto it. As far as being a Roman male, well, she was glad he was and as such he would never include a female in his decisions, no matter how smart or well trained. It went against the grain of how he was brought up. She understood it but it hurt just the same.

“Senator Gracchus?” When she heard “come” she pulled back the curtain to Gracchus’ room and entered. “Senator, Maximus wants you. He’s in the study with that Praetorian, Quintus.”

“Yes, I heard Quintus came for a visit.”

“Maximus acts as though he trusts him. How can he after what he did?” Juba had explained Quintus’ betrayal to her the second day they were here.

“Kate, Quintus may have given the orders for Maximus’ execution, but, if he believed Commodus to be the rightful Emperor, then he did what he should have done. Maximus represented the largest threat to the empire of any general. He could have marched to Rome and placed himself on the throne.”

“And what about his family? Did they have to die too?”

“I know Roman justice must seem difficult, but if Maximus’ son had lived, then he might have sought vengeance. Commodus was being prudent.”

“Bullshit! He hated Maximus. He killed his family and destroyed his farm from pure petulance. Juba told me about how Commodus reacted when he saw Maximus in the arena, he also told me how Commodus taunted him about the way his wife and son died. Oh no, it wasn’t a simple political decision. He hates Maximus and he won’t stop until one or the other is dead.”

It was near midnight when Quintus finally arrived with a large box wagon at the door behind the gladiator school. Four horses were tethered behind. He hopped down from the driver’s seat and whistled. As soon as Tyre and Maximus moved out into the alley, Quintus began handing out the Praetorian uniforms he had hidden in the wagon. Tyre and Maximus were first to dress as the Emperor's guards and would-be-assassins.

When Quintus suggested that he smuggle them out as Praetorians, Maximus wanted to go to the palace and try to infiltrate the legitimate guards, and possibly kill Commodus in his own house. After all, Commodus had already planned to wound Maximus and then challenge him in the arena so he could kill the general and allow the populace to believe it was a fair fight. That way the mob would think Commodus was mightier than the beloved Spaniard. Quintus, though, objected. Too many risks were involved. The best they could hope for was to get away from Rome and try to contact Felix III in Ostia.

“I couldn’t get enough uniforms for all of you, nor enough horses. So, you, Maximus, Tyre, Brennson and I will be ‘escorts’, and you can choose one to be the driver. As for the rest, they can ride in the wagon. I have enough provisions for around three weeks, in case we can’t enlist Felix III’s help. We may have to run if not. It’s all I could get without causing suspicion.”

Kate stood just inside the doorway waiting for Gracchus to join her. She was afraid this was a trap. Gracchus could see the worry lines in her charming face and he wanted to somehow reassure her, even though he wasn’t completely convinced himself.

“Kate, if Quintus wanted us dead, he could have easily returned with a cohort of Praetorian and finished the job. Why would he help all of us escape?”

She turned and faced the senator. “In all of history, one theme always rings true. You must kill the name before you kill the bearer. Otherwise, you risk creating a hero or martyr. It would serve Commodus better to have Maximus escape. Once he does it will be easy to convince the populace that he was nothing but a traitor, a gladiator, an infamous, who ran away. As long as the body isn’t found, as long as the truth is not told, Commodus wins.”

More and more, Kate began realizing that she not only fell through time, but she was even more certain that it was not a linear fall. Too many things were skewed. She realized only little things at first and was willing to believe that perhaps historians had been incorrect in some of their findings. But certain things were written, not conjectured, not postulated. Commodus had been co-emperor; of that they were sure, yet here in this time he was not even considered for the position by his father. A general as famous as Maximus Decimus Meridius would have been mentioned somewhere, some evidence should have been found. Also, it was well known that Commodus was married to Bruttius Crispina in 178 A.D., yet Gracchus insisted that this year was equivalent of 182 A.D., and Commodus was still unmarried. He laughed when she told him that she thought Commodus was married to Crispina.

“As much as I despise him, I wouldn’t wish that vicious harpy even on Commodus.” He sobered. “I believe Commodus has an unnatural attraction to Lucilla. She hasn’t come outright and accused him of incest, but it has been insinuated several times.” Kate could tell he was uncomfortable about that information. The Lady Lucilla and he were friends. “It seems your historians are not as well informed as you might have thought, Kate.”

She nodded and said, “Perhaps you’re right.” The final indication that all was not as it should be in time, came when she took a moment to look at herself in Proximo’s mirror. What she saw made her stop breathing. The person that looked back from the mirror was the woman she’d been when she attended university. Gone were the wrinkles and laugh lines. Gone were the circles that plagued her over the last several years, from lack of sleep. The light sprinkling of silver that had invaded her golden red tresses was gone. She was young again. She looked to be somewhere around twenty-two. Nowhere was there evidence of the fifty-five year old woman she was. Was it only three days ago? No wonder Gracchus had called her ‘child’.

Kate hadn’t talked to Maximus since their meeting with Quintus earlier in the day. She stayed away from him, letting him know she was angry. Being the macho male he was, he allowed her to stew, thinking she’d eventually capitulate. Kate however, wasn’t your usual Roman lady. In fact, he began realizing just how un-Roman she really was. He began comparing her to the stories of the Amazon women who ran their own kingdom without need for men, except to perpetuate the species.

Quintus stepped through the doorway and moved next to her. “My Lady, once we’re out the gates, we will be traveling as fast as possible. The wagon will be uncomfortable and we won’t be able to stop, so if you need to accommodate yourself, it’s best to tend to that now.”

Kate just glared at him.

The other men, eight in all, joined Maximus and Quintus. Brennson quickly donned the Praetorian garb and Maximus told Rommi, a former horse trainer, to dress in the last uniform and drive the wagon. The helmets and darkness helped to hide their faces. Quintus would approach the gate guards when they got there. As Prefect, he didn’t expect them to inspect the wagon or question where they were going.

Just as she was stepping up into the wagon, Kate heard Quintus tell Maximus that with luck they would be in Ostia by nightfall tomorrow night.

“Why are we going to Ostia? Are we sailing somewhere from there?”

Maximus was not happy with her questioning. “I already explained why we need to get to Ostia. I need Felix III to help me.”

“Well, that might be more difficult than you think, Max, since Felix III left Ostia several days ago.”

Maximus asked, “Where did you hear that?”

“What? You mean your ‘good friend’ didn’t tell you?” Kate looked at Quintus, challenging him.

“Maximus, I didn’t know. I told you Commodus doesn’t trust me completely. He never said anything about the legion being moved.”

Maximus thought for a moment, “Well, this changes a great deal. Where did you hear this, Kate?”

“You mean you need information? Don’t tell me you’ll listen to a stupid, lowly woman.”

Maximus stepped up to her. “Don’t push me, Kate. This is too important to everyone here for you to withhold what you know just to irritate me.”

She glared at him but quietly told him everything she heard in the marketplace. A merchant from Ostia was lamenting the Legion leaving. His and other businesses prospered when the Legion was there. Of course Ostia was a thriving port so they wouldn’t be left without business, it just wouldn’t be as good without the soldiers spending their money on a regular basis.

“Did they say where they were going?”

“The merchant wasn’t sure, but he said Spain was mentioned, so was Britannia. They could be going anywhere.”

“We make for Ostia and see if anyone knows for certain where Felix III went.”

The ride through Rome was slow. Rome at night was as busy as Rome during the day. Since no horses or any draft animals were allowed within the walls during the day, the carts bringing food and goods to market, were only allowed in at nighttime. Praetorians were allowed their horses if on an important mission but only then.

Even though the traffic moved at a slower pace, and the smell was of manure not automobile exhaust, it reminded her of New York City, the city that never sleeps. She began humming ‘New York, New York’. It brought a wave of nostalgia and tears pricked her eyes.

To control her emotions, she turned her thoughts back to the movement of goods in and out of the mighty city. As a historian, her mind turned to what she knew from training and compared it to the reality.

There was only one exception to the ‘no horses during the day’ rules. The vestal virgins were allowed to use any transportation they chose at any time during the day or night. Even the Emperor was expected to give way to them. What a life that must have been, she mused. They were the nuns of Rome in that they dedicated themselves to the keeping of the flame of Rome for thirty years and had to remain virgin until their serving term ended. They were exalted by all Romans and had their own private seats at all the public entertainments. They were the most powerful women in Rome. That power came with a high price tag.

Unlike nuns of the Catholic Church, they could not petition for release from duty should they find themselves unable or unwilling to remain virgin. The women were watched closely and no man was allowed near. Should the unthinkable happen and a virgin fall, she paid with her life. She would be dragged through the streets in shame and thrown from the Tarpian Wall onto the rocks below or buried up to her neck and stoned. She would have liked to speak with a Vestal. Now they were leaving Rome. She smiled, “It probably would have been impossible anyway.”

It was so dark it was hard to see the men inside the wagon. There was no moon and the streets were poorly lit. Only a small square window in the back door let any light or air inside. Juba was sitting near her, even though she couldn’t see him. She asked quietly, “Juba, how did you come to be enslaved?” She knew he’d helped Maximus survive after being wounded but never explained how he came to be at Proximo’s stable. She simply assumed that Romans had captured him.

He sighed. “I was the son of a tribal elder. The son of another tribe knew my wife and had wanted her for years before we were married. He spoke against our tribe saying that we were going to attack them. He convinced them to attack us first. They went for the women while we were on a hunt. We were concerned that they would be hurt or killed and went after them. It was a trap. We were defeated and sold to the Romans.” He sighed again. “My wife, Miri, was pregnant with our third child when I left. I can only hope that the man who wanted her, cared enough to take care of her and to spare my two daughters and unborn child.”

Kate reached out and felt Juba’s face. There were tears. “I’m sorry, Juba.”

When they finally reached the Ostian gate, they could hear muffled conversation; then the wagon began moving again. Kate couldn’t believe they were away.

They traveled all night and by dawn they were nearly there. Maximus decided not to move them during the day. Instead, they pulled well off the road and hid the wagon in a copse of trees. Everyone was tired, including the horses that Maximus insisted on pushing to the limit. He wanted to put as much distance between Rome and them as he could. It depended on what information they got in Ostia, whether they would buy more horses or leave them and book passage on one of the ships.

That evening, before moving on to Ostia, Maximus called everyone together. He told all the men that they were free to go their own way once they reached Ostia. He didn’t want them to feel tied to him or his fate if they were caught. He offered each of them money enough to make their way back to whatever life they had before. Not one of them accepted. It was Tyre who pointed out that even with money, they were still fugitive slaves. Without papers they would have little chance to make it home. They all agreed that their best chance was to help Maximus and eventually win their freedom through service to him.

Kate sat, amazed, when they raised their fists to their chests and pledged loyalty to Maximus, ending with “Strength and Honor!”

Quintus came and sat next to her. “You know, I was always a loyal soldier and did my duty to Rome, but I never commanded the respect that Maximus did from our troops.”

“I understand why,” she said. “It’s because he cares about the people under his protection.”

“Yes, he does, but that makes it more difficult when you see the aftermath of a hard won battle. There were times when I’d find him roaming through the medical tents giving encouragement or offering prayers for those wounded or killed. Most generals don’t concern themselves with that. It takes too much from you.”

Kate stood up. “I was raised with the belief that what you give comes back to you tenfold, whether it’s good or evil.” With that she walked away to talk with Gracchus.

Maximus gave the order to break camp and then came to stand next to Quintus. “I’ve decided that we’ll bypass Ostia. I’ll send Julian and Kate there on one of the horses. They should be able to find accommodations and I’ll give them enough money to live there modestly. Kate is clever, she’ll come up with a story to cover herself and Julian will be perceived as her slave. It’s safer for them. No one knows Kate was in the arena that night, and Julian came at a time when only the people who were killed would have been aware of him. If his former owner happened to see him in Ostia, Kate could say she bought him from Proximo that morning.”

Julian was a young black slave. At only twelve, he was given to Proximo in payment of a debt his former owner owed to the Lanista. Proximo was initially reluctant to accept the boy since he was too young and too small to use as a gladiator. His owner argued that he could help in the kitchens. Otherwise he’d sell the boy to someone who’d use him as a sex slave for the men of the Greek persuasion. Hopefully it would be enough to satisfy the debt he owed Proximo. The lanista finally accepted the boy to save him from that awful fate.

Though Proximo didn’t question other people’s sexual preferences, he’d known what that was like. Proximo had been a slave from birth and had endured all the indignities and degradations that came with it. He became a freedman when, as a gladiator, he’d won his freedom.

Julian had arrived at the school only hours before the Praetorians came for Maximus. The boy didn’t know what to do when the Praetorians pulled down the gate to the school and stormed in. He watched as they fought the gladiators and was proud that a man who commanded such fearsome warriors now owned him. But he also realized that they couldn’t win and many of them died. Once the Praetorians subdued the gladiators they would almost certainly kill the house slaves. He quickly found a hole and hid in it, waiting for the battle to end. When Maximus and the others returned, Julian was never so glad to see anyone. They accepted him and Juba and he became fast friends.

“So if we aren’t going to Ostia, where are we going? And how are we going to get there with only six horses and eleven men? The wagon is too slow and Commodus is bound to have men looking for us.” Quintus wasn’t sure how Maximus would solve this dilemma.

“I’ll tell Julian to buy ten horses, two at a time, and bring them to us. We’ll camp near the fort at Ostia. That way we can watch for anyone coming from Rome. We’ll leave the wagon where I plan for us to camp. It should be hidden enough that no one will find it until well after we’ve gone.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best he could do for now. Germania was a long way away and the legions he had commanded there weren’t as loyal to him as Felix III. But a man Maximus knew well now commanded them. Maximus spoke to Gracchus and he agreed that in lieu of Maximus’ reluctance to accept the throne, Septimus Severus would be an acceptable alternative. He was a respected general and from a good patrician family. Gracchus’ only reservation was that Severus was from Africa not Rome.

Maximus snickered at that comment. “You were more than willing to place the laurel on my head and I’m from Spain not Rome.”

Commodus paced back and forth in the throne room. Everywhere there were traitors looking to remove him. Only this morning, Tulius Albus had notified him that his Praetorian Prefect had left Rome in the middle of the night with an escort of three men and a wagon. Maximus hadn’t been found in Rome, even though Commodus had every Praetorian in the garrison looking for him. He could only surmise that Quintus had found Maximus and helped him escape.

“I knew it! I knew it! He lied to me in Germania and he’s been lying to me ever since. I’ll have his head on a platter next to Maximus’!”

Senator Falco watched as Commodus ranted on. He was certain the emperor was insane and it was to his own advantage. He controlled Commodus, soothing his mind with lies and intrigue, while stoking the fires for his own purposes. He could never get Quintus to help him; the man was loyal to Rome. But he didn’t hinder him, either. There were too many of his Praetorians who were being paid for their loyalty for the Prefect to remove Commodus. And…at this time there was no one Falco would consider for the throne that he could manipulate as well as Commodus. He had thought of Maximus, but only for a moment. The man was too honest; too interested in doing what was best for Rome, to consider allowing Falco to gain monetarily from the schemes he continually concocted. No, General Maximus was the last man he wanted sitting on the throne of power.

By the same token, Falco didn’t want the throne for himself. It was much better to have a weak leader who was his puppet. If his schemes went wrong, he could always blame Commodus. That way Falco was sure of walking away without dirt on his toga.

“Caesar,” Falco purred, “it is regrettable that General Maximus escaped. But we could use it to our own good. Spread the news that he escaped after hearing that you would meet him in the arena. Show him to be a coward. The mob will forget him in no time.”

Commodus turned, scowling at Falco. “And what if Maximus isn’t found? What if he finds a way to rally his former troops against me? What then?”

“You forget, Caesar, Felix III has already left Ostia. If Quintus is in league with him, they will go to Ostia thinking they can contact Maximus’ old friends. When they arrive they will find an empty fort and no support. Where can he go then? He has no money and no one to turn to.”

Commodus thought on that for a moment. “I’ll send word to every legion in the empire to watch for Maximus. I’ll also send a contingent of my Praetorians to watch for them at Ostia and another to Spain in case Maximus decides to return home. He will have no where to go. I’ll have him, I swear it!”

“May I suggest that you have them kill him and send you his head? You’ll have proof of his death and no complications.”

Commodus though physically handsome, had the coldest eyes Falco had ever seen. Even the barbarians in Germania during that last battle didn’t seem as devoid of feeling as Commodus. His deranged onslaught of Lucilla three nights ago had been more than even Falco could stomach. He would need to be very careful from now on. Commodus could be manipulated but he was no fool. That, coupled with his intelligence and insanity, he could very easily turn on his trusted advisor.

Maximus directed their little troupe to an area about two miles from the Ostian fort. It was an unusual place with large rocks in the otherwise rolling countryside. It afforded them cover for the wagon and wasn’t easily seen until someone was right on top of them. Guards placed on top of the rocks would assure that no one got that close without Maximus knowing it well ahead of time. The road leading to Ostia was visible from the highest rock and the sentries could see if Praetorians arrived.

Kate was helping Juba prepare a meal for all of them. Tyre and Brennson had killed several rabbits and Juba was turning them on the open fire while Kate pulled several loaves of bread from a sack. Maximus walked up and requested that Kate come with him. She did as he asked and they walked over to where the horses were tied to a small tree.

He handed her several pieces of paper and some coins. “Here, take this money.”

Kate accepted it and gave him a questioning look. “I want you and Julian to take one of the horses and go to Ostia tomorrow morning. I need Julian to buy ten horses and bring them, two at a time, back here.”

“And what will I be doing while he buys the horses?”

“You will look for accommodations for you and him. Everyone will think he’s your slave. You need to come up with a convincing story for why you are in Ostia alone with only one slave. The papers are drafts that you can exchange at the treasury for coin once you get settled. It should be enough to give you a reasonable life until you find a husband.”

“What?” Find a husband? What was he talking about? “You mean you’re leaving us here?

“You and Julian aren’t known to Commodus yet. This is the only chance for both of you to have some kind of life. The rest of us are marked for death. We’re only one step ahead of Commodus and I can’t guarantee your protection.”

“No!”

“Kate it’s your only chance.”

“No!”

“That is my decision!”

“No! No, I won’t stay here. Maximus, please! I don’t belong here. The only friends I have are you, your men and Gracchus.”

Maximus lightly grabbed her by her upper arms. “Don’t argue with me, Kate! I know what’s best. Julian is a good boy; he deserves to live. I can’t be responsible for your death or his. I should have left you both in Rome. It was foolish of me to bring you here. You could take the money and return there if you don’t want to stay in Ostia. Just help us with the horses, that’s all I ask.”

She stood aghast, her mouth open and unable to comprehend his request. “I don’t want to return to Rome and I don’t want to stay here. Maximus, please, don’t do this.”

He let go of her arms and stepped back. “I can’t protect you, Kate.”

She gave him a stony look and turned her back to him. “If I’m no longer under your protection, then you have no right to tell me what to do. I’ll go with Julian, then we’re finished. But I won’t stay here.”

Maximus stood for a moment watching her. He didn’t want to send her away. In fact he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and assure her that everything would be all right. But he knew different. It was a desperate plan. He wasn’t even sure that Severus would listen to him. Most likely he’d have him run through and his head returned to Rome. He had no fear of dying, but the thought that Kate might meet the same end as his beautiful Selene made his blood run cold. He couldn’t see her brutalized, raped and crucified as his wife had been. He never thought he could love again. But he did. Somehow this beautiful, intelligent, willful woman had stolen into his heart. He could not, would not, fail her as he had Selene and his son Marcus. The only way to protect her now was to send her away.

She heard him as he walked away. She couldn’t face him…not now. The tears she’d held in check until he left began to flow. She had held onto a strong façade. She couldn’t any longer. She was afraid and alone. How would she be able to manage? Without Maximus, her life would be empty. She would rather face death with him than face a lifetime without him. She never thought she could fall in love so quickly, but she had. He never gave her reason to think he cared for her but that didn’t matter. She was content just to be near him. He was headstrong, arrogant, dominant and totally infuriating, and she loved him like no one before in her life. He made her dizzy on the rare occasions when he smiled. He made her heart race. He made her feel alive. No man had ever done that to her and she realized how much she needed it.

Her life before had been quiet, full of books and learning, research and pondering. It was exhilarating to glean knowledge from new information, but there was no zest for life. She had lived with a man who was old enough to be her father. Sex was infrequent and never exciting. Her life was built on studying people dead thousands of years ago, with a man who was more comfortable with the dead than he was with the living. He had sapped her youth and left her unfulfilled as a woman. Maximus was alive in every part of his being and he made her feel alive. He was everything she needed.

Gracchus watched Kate as she sat on a large flat rock by herself, away from the others. She had returned from a conversation with Maximus and he could tell she’d been crying. He picked up a small bowl and took it to her.

“You need to eat.” He handed her the bowl but she shook her head.

“No thank you. I’m not hungry.”

He sat down next to her and said quietly, “He’s doing it for your own good. We could all be dead very soon and he can’t bear the thought of you dying, too.”

“I understand his motives, Senator, but you… he… none of you understand how I feel. When I say I don’t belong here, it’s much more than you realize.” She hesitated, “I want to tell you something, but I’m afraid that if I do you’ll think I’m crazy.”

Gracchus smiled and grabbed her hand. “What could you tell me that would make me think that?’

She took a deep breath and began. “I told you before that I didn’t know how I came to be in the arena. That wasn’t entirely true. You see, I went to the arena to do some research along with a friend. He went to relieve himself and while he was gone, I climbed down into the passageway that led to the equipment room.”

“Climbed down? Down from where? I thought you said you had no friends in Rome.”

She gulped, “I visited the ruins of the amphitheater. The floor of the arena was long since rotted away.” She stopped to allow him time to digest what she just told him.

“The ruins? What are you saying, Kate?”

“I’m saying that I visited Rome but not as it is today. I believe I came through what scientists call a time warp. I’m from two thousand years in the future. Rome no longer exists as an empire. The city is all new, but some of the important ancient buildings still exist. The Flavian Amphitheater is one of them.”

Gracchus stood and moved back. “What sort of magic is this? Are you a sorceress?”

“No, Gracchus, I’m just a woman who came here by accident.” She could tell he wasn’t convinced and regretted telling him. “Please sir, I only wanted to tell you the truth so you would understand. Let me show you something then maybe you will.”

Kate pulled out the digital camera and turned it on. The small screen lit up and pictures of the amphitheater were displayed. She held the instrument as he watched her scroll through all the pictures she’d taken that fateful morning and ones from before that, in other areas of the former empire. He looked at them horrified.

Gracchus made a sign warning away the evil spirits. “This is sorcery and you are a witch!”

“No, Senator, there are many such devices in my time. I just wanted you to see that what I said was true.”

Kate wouldn’t have blamed Gracchus for running to Maximus and telling him she was a witch. What he did amazed her. “Listen to me, for the fondness I have for you, throw that away and never speak of this again, to anyone. I will keep your secret. Others may not be so forgiving.”

With that he turned and rejoined the others leaving Kate alone with her thoughts.

She sat remembering her ‘past’ life. Her parents were already dead. They at least weren’t alive to mourn her disappearance. Her friends and students were probably already aware that she was missing and no doubt were wondering what her fate had been. That prompted another thought. What was her fate to be? It was highly unlikely that she would ever be able to return to her time. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she were still under Maximus’ protection. At least she would have her fantasy of being with him. Now he’d removed that possibility completely. He didn’t need or want her around. Even Gracchus was now wary of her. She had never felt so adrift, so completely alone in her life. All she could do was hold to her belief in God and hope He would somehow get her though. Quietly she began reciting the “Our Father” in hope that His spirit would touch her and give her strength.

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