Part One: Germania

1

Vindobona, October 180AD

"That's not fair! You always win! If I didn't know you better, I would think you were cheating!" General Quintus Clarus exclaimed, waving his hands in disgust.

His opponent and friend, General Maximus Decimus Meridas, replied with, "I assure you, I am innocent!" before bursting into laughter and causing Quintus to glare.

"Our Maximus is implacable, both in battle and in games." commented a voice behind them and both the officers turned to see Marcus Aurelius watching them with amusement. The old Caesar had been so silent that evening that they had almost forgotten he was in the tent.

"Sire, I hope we did not disturb you." Maximus said.

"Quite the opposite Maximus, it is pleasant to hear laughter after so many days spent listening to cries of pain." He was referring to his visit to some of the Roman villages scattered along the Danube border that had been recently attacked by the barbarians.

"That's right, Caesar." said Quintus.

An amicable silence fell in the richly furnished tent lit by torches and oil-lamps and Maximus began to position the pieces on the latrunculi board. "Do care for another game?" he asked Quintus sweetly, fully expecting a sarcastic remark but his friend's words were interrupted by the arrival of Cicero, Maximus' manservant.

"Excuse me Caesar, General, Sir," he said, bowing in turn to the three men, but a courier has just arrived with a letter for General Clarus."

Quintus stood up and took the sealed papyrus, opening it and scanning it.

Marcus Aurelius and Maximus saw him pale and the General asked with concerned, "Is there something wrong?"

"It is from Antonia..."

"Something happened to her? Is one of the children sick?" Marcus Aurelius' voice was full of worry for his niece and her children who were living near the camp of Augusta Vindelicorum.

"No, no thank to the Gods they are all right," Quintus quickly reassured him, but my mother sent a letter from Rome.....My father is very ill and the doctors believe he will not live much longer.... She asks me to go home as soon as possible.." he closed his eyes in pain.

"I am so sorry," said Maximus, rising on his feet and patting his friend's shoulder.

"I grieve with you, " added Marcus Aurelius.

Both men knew -- as Quintus did -- that the general could not leave the front now. The Roman Army of the North was on the verge of what could be the last, resolutive battle of the never-ending war against the German populaces and all the command staff had to be there.

Quintus nodded to his companions, "Excuse me, Caesar, Maximus, but I would like to be alone."

"Of course, Quintus, you don't have to ask. You are free to go." the emperor said.

The general bowed his head in salute and left the tent.

Marcus Aurelius and Maximus stared after him for some moments, both lost in their thoughts, until Caesar said, "What about calling this the end of the evening? I still have some letters to complete and you surely have more interesting things to do than watching me write."

"As you wish, Sire." Maximus walked near the over stuffed chair where the old man was sitting. "I wish a good night and, please, don't tire your self too much." The general smiled slightly.

"You know me too well, Maximus. But I promise to behave." Marcus Aurelius' eyes cringed with amusement but deep inside he was touched by the younger man's concern for his well being.

"Good to hear it, Caesar." And with a bow, Maximus exited the room.

*****

Maximus walked in the night and stopped in the yard which spread in front of the Praetorium. It was still early and he was not tired. Since he did not have any reports to study or orders to write, he decided to take a brief walk in the camp, just for the simple pleasure of it.

Wandering without a precise destination, Maximus was not surprised when his feet took him near the stable area. Picking up a handful of hay he went to his horses, Argento and Scarto. The animals whinnied their welcome and Maximus spent the next ten minutes feeding and patting them. In the end he leaned against the pole which divided the two stalls and, crossing his arms over his chest, he raised his head and looked at the moon, letting his mind relax. Unbidden the image of a woman's face, with sparkling green eyes and luxuriant chestnut hair appeared in front of him and Maximus closed his eyes.

"Hildegarde." he thought. Four years had passed since the last time he had seen her, but her memory was still powerfully alive inside him. It was in clear, cool nights such this, when the air smelled of pine-tree, a scent so much alike hers, that memories of the young woman sprang to his mind, and the pain of losing her returned with force.

After their farewell in the camp near Noricum, Maximus had never tried to see her again, too afraid he would not been able to let her go a second time, because, deep in his heart he knew he still loved her.

Maximus remembered as if it were yesterday, a morning two years earlier when, during a ride in the forest, he had meet Hildegarde's mother, Rodelind. After a moment of awkward silence they had greeted each other and spoken briefly. Maximus learned that Rodelind had married Godeoc and that the alliance had brought she and Hildegarde back into the tribe. He had smiled happily and then found the courage to ask the older woman about her daughter. Rodelind had looked away from him and softly replied, "She is fine. She has a new man who is making her very happy." Maximus had nodded and forced a smile, berating himself for his jealousy. He had no right to feel it: he knew that he could not offer Hildegarde the life she deserved. He should have been grateful that someone was caring for her and making her happy. But inside his chest something had twisted in pain and after a hurried goodbye he had galopped away, hoping to leave his suffering behind.

The feel of Scarto's soft muzzle nuzzling his neck brought Maximus back to reality and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no sense torturing himself. With a last pat for both of the horses, the General left the stables and returned to his tent.

2

Rome had won.

After 12 years of war the Germans had been finally defeated once for all.. Maximus could barely believe it. He was going to see his family again and this time it was for good.

A slap on his back made him jump with surprise.

"Daydreaming again?" Quintus asked to his friend.

"Yes, I was thinking about Selene and Marcus. " Maximus smiled, "It seems almost impossible that I will soon see them again."

"I think I can understand your feelings. I have been away from Antonia and the boys for only six months and it seems like a lifetime. I don't know if I would be able to stay without them so long as you have done.....I think I would go crazy...."

"Well, certainly you are already nervous and snappy enough..."

"Are you referring to yesterday’s discussion about the catapult? You know I was not questioning your orders, it was only......." Quintus voice's trailed off.

"Nervousness. You wanted the battle to be over soon. I know the feeling and you don't need to justify it to me. I am just sorry your return in Rome is due to such sad reason." Maximus offered a smile.

Quintus nodded slowly, thinking about his dying father and then murmured, "It is time for me to leave."

Maximus turned to him, "We will see each other again, won't we?" he asked.

"Of course! I will come to visit you in Hispania. I really want to see you with your hands dirty harvesting your crops and playing the country gentleman!"

"And you will let me know where I can find you! In Rome or......"

"Or wherever I will be. Really, Maximus, I just don't know if I will remain in the army....I might decide to begin a political career."

"Well, I know you will be good in whatever you should decide to do. And now it is better if you go: Antonia is waiting for you and I must go to speak with Caesar."

"Ah, that's why you are wearing your best uniform!" Quintus smiled and patted Maximus on his back, " See you soon, my friend, and bring my regards to Selene."

"Only if you promise to do the same with Antonia." Maximus and Quintus embraced warmly and then separated, walking in opposite directions, one to the stables, the other back to the Praetorium.

3

Maximus could scarcely believe how his dream of going home and forgetting everything about war had been shattered and transformed into a nighmare in the space of only few hours. If not for the throbbing wound to testify to it tragic reality he would have thought it was only a giant farce. But it was not so.

While his horse ran in the deserted forests of Germania, Maximus re-lived again and again the events of the past day: his conversation with Marcus Aurelius; his decision to obey to his emperor's last command and become the Protector of Rome; the sudden call in the middle of the night by Arramus, the captain of the Praetorians; the discovery of his monarch and beloved friend's death; his refusal to to swear loyality to Commodus; his arrest and escape.......The images flashed in front of him as in in his mind Arramus' cruel voice continued to repeat, "Your family will die with you, the line of a traitor must be extinguished."

Maximus' heart constricted in pain and terror as he thought about his wife and son in Hispania......the idea of loosing them was so painful that it was unbearable even to think about. He had to reach them.

*****

The hours passed in a blur for Maximus. He stopped running only to switch horses, not sparing even a single minute to tend the deep wound to his left arm. He knew that the night would arrive all too soon, forcing him to stop and he did not want to loose time during the day.

When the darkness finally arrived, obscuring his view of the road, Maximus stopped for rest. He was exhausted both by the blood loss and the lack of food, but during the day he had not met a single village from which to buy something to eat. He would have to wait till tomorrow.

The general tied the horses to two trees and with the last of his strenght looked for wood to light a fire. He had no covering besides the two saddle blankets and the night promised to be chilling. With the orange flames to light his work, he tended to his wound as well as he could, changing the piece of his tunica he was using as bandage. He then leaned his back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. He did not want to sleep, because of the wolves roaming the woods, but he was so tired that even breathing was paifnul. Without being aware of it, Maximus fell in a deep sleep, almost like unconsciousness.

4

The German woman was scouring the forest searching for the last medical herbs she could find before the winter killed them with its frost. Hildegarde had left her village at dawn wanting to be back in the early afternoon but her task was hindered by the snow which had fallen during the night. In some places it had been transformed into ice by the chilly wind and it slowed the woman's movements.

As Hildegarde approached the small clearing where she had found a good supply of herbs the week before, her senses were alerted by a noise. She stopped and tilted her head to listen.

The noise repeated.

"Horses," thought the young woman, "And they are very near." But to whom they did belong? Germans or Romans? In the last three years the area where her village was -- which the Romans called Noricum -- had been very peaceful. The Quadi tribes who lived in the zone had finally accepted the Roman domination in return for food, peace and protection, but the Germans were still weary of the conquerors.

The horses whinnied again and Hildegarde realized they were probably very near the place where she planned to go. She swore under her breath. She had walked for so long that she did not like the idea of returning home empty-handed. After pondering the problem she decided to hide in the forest and wait for the horses and their riders to go away.

Moving cautiously behind bushes and trees Hildegarde arrived at her destination. She could see the horses tied to two trees but not the men with them. She flanked the clearing and saw a man lying on the ground covered by saddle blankets near an extinguished fire. She looked closer but was only able to see the back of his dark-haired head and his booted feet. As she was watching, the prone body shook and Hildegarde heard the sound of a dry cough, followed by the sound of a raspy, sibilating breath. Whomever the rider was, he was surely in bad shape.

Time passed. The coughing went on, becoming even more violent, but the lying man did not stand up. In the end Hildegarde's healer instinct could take no more. She could not go away without ascertaining the man's condition. Keeping very quiet she walked near him and knelt behind his back. As her hand moved to push away the blanket, a sense of dejà-vu assaulted her and she felt transported in time, to four years ago, in a place not very far from this one, when she had met the only love of her life: Match- Maximus.

Hildegarde pushed away the painful memories and touched the man's neck. He reacted to her hand and slowly turned. As their eyes met, Hildegarde felt her breath leave her in a rush. It was not possible......it had to be a dream.....it could not be him....But it was. The deep blue eyes, the dark beard, the little, sensual month.....everything was exactly as she remembered. He was him, her Match. And then she heard his voice whispering with wonder in Quadi, "Hildegarde, are you really here?" He tried to raise a hand to touch her face and she took it between hers.

"I am here, Mat....Maximus." she replied.

"Please...help me..."

"Of course I will help you. Now be quiet." She squeezed his hand before letting it go and touching his brow. "My Gods, you are burning!"

"Yes...." His too bright eyes stared at her before a bout of coughing wracked him.

"I must take you home, you can't stay here." Hildegarde looked at the horses, wondering if he would be able to ride when she felt Maximus tug at her hand. She lowered her eyes to look at him, "Yes?"

"I...don't want..to create...problems to you..." he rasped.

"Problems? You will never create problems to me." Hildegarde sligthly smiled and caressed his cheek.

"But your... husband..."

"What husband? I am not married, Maximus, I never been." Because the only man I wished to wed was already married, and it was you....She added only in her mind.

"But...your mother...told me so...time ago.." Maximus looked at her interrogatively.

"You misunderstood. But now stop talking and save your strenght. Are you able to stand?"

"I think so...."

"Here, let me help you." Hildegarde grabbed his arms and Maximus cried out in pain. "What is it?" she asked worried.

"My arm...is wounded..a sword..." Maximus was breathing rapidly.

Hildegarde helped him to sit up with his back against the trunk. She put her cloak over his shoulders and went to saddle the horses. Even though she was trying to look calm she was very worried for Maximus' condition. Her only thought was to take him home as soon as possible and hope she and her mother would be able to help him as they had done four years before. But why we must always meet in such way? she wondered. And what will you think when you will meet Match?

Hildegarde finished tightening the girth of the saddle and returned to Maximus.

In the next few minutes -- and with a lot of difficulty -- she helped him to mount on of the horses before mounting the other.

"Hold tight." she said to him and he nodded, his body shuddering from the almost costant cough.

Very slowly and carefully, with Hildegarde keeping both horses' reins they began the road to the village.

5

Hildegarde decided to stop before the first of the huts came in view. She had suddently remembered that, outside of her mother, everybody thought that Match had died four years before fighting against the Romans. She did not how Godeoc might react to discover the unconscious soldier and so she looked for another solution. She found it by hiding Maximus in a little cavern near the her rock overlooking the stream. After she was sure he was warm under the saddle blankets, she left him and rushed to her village.

Luckily she encountered her mother in the street and stopped her. "Mother, please come with me in the forest!"

Rodelind her the urgent tone in her daughter's voice and asked, "What's going on?"

"I found a wounded man." replied Hildegarde, pulling her mother by the elbow. "I need your help."

"A wounded man? Why you didn’t you take him to the village?" The older woman asked as she followed her daughter into the woods.

"Because.....because he his a Roman, mother." Hildegarde could not bring herself to reveal the man's true identity just now.

"Hildegarde, must you always drag home wounded Romans you find in the woods?" Rodelind’s voice was laughing, but her eyes were not. She was worried- evening had already fallen, and it was growing cold. Godeoc would wonder where she had gone to, and he would not be pleased when he learned the truth. Four years before, his son, Brettix, had nearly been killed by a pair of Roman hostages being held captive in the village. Although the young man lived, his wounds had never completely recovered. His sword arm was weak, and he was a liability in battle. His father was angry of the glory that had been stolen from his son, and disliked the Romans even more than most.

And how do I feel about it? Rodelind wondered as she and her daughter continued to slide noiselessly through the thick underbrush. She loved her daughter very much. For many years, ever since Rodelind’s husband had betrayed his village and moved south with the wolfmen invaders, they had been all the other had. Rodelind could not help but distrust the people who had shattered her family.

Several years earlier, just days before Brettix was wounded, Hildegarde had brought home another wounded Roman- this man was a soldier, whose memory was completely gone. Rodelind and Hildegarde had shielded his identity from the tribe and nursed him back to health…Hildegarde had given him her heart…Rodelind suspected that he had been the one to release the captives from their prison, and helped them to return to camp. Although she did not want to believe it, she feared that he had taken Hildegarde captive to use against her people. What was worse, her daughter had gone along with the scheme- she and the man had agreed to meet nearly three months after his departure.

To his credit, he had returned, but Hildegarde had not met him. By then she was almost four months pregnant with their son. Showing him, knowing his true feelings about her condition, might have been too much to bear. She was glad that she could persuade her daughter to give him back to the place where he belonged…

And then he had appeared again. She had nearly died of fright when he hailed her from the high horse that was riding through her town, desperately worried that the townsmen would recognize him as the man they knew as Match.

She and Hildegarde had propogated the myth that Match had been killed by the Romans who held him captive- even Godeoc believed it was true- what would they think if they found him alive, and wearing a Roman uniform? It could not be! Thankfully, the Gods had heard her prayers again. Her words- telling him that Hildegarde was alive and happy- had sent him away.

"Here, mother…" her daughter said leading her in the small cave.

Rodelind lifted the torch that she was carrying over the prone figure on the ground. The man was lying on his side, facing away, and her keen eyes traveled the length of his body, going first to the wound. It was deep, and looked to be infected…..

"He’s lost a lot of blood." She murmured. "Help me to turn him."

Hildegarde nodded, taking the torch from her mother and extinguishing it in the soft earth. Then she laced her hand gently under the man’s shoulder and rolled him forward.

Rodelind’s eyes drifted upward from his shoulder to his face.

And then she gasped.

Hildegarde watched with trepidation at the mixed emotions which flashed through her mothers eyes. The women had never discussed what eventually became of "Match", and Hildegarde hoped that her mother's suspicions had not tainted her view. Luckily, the older woman had lived too long, and endured too much to maintain a capacity for shock. She met her daughters eyes questioningly, and then she reached tenderly toward the wound again, temporarily shedding the role of mother for healer.

"Have you ever run across this man when he isn't bleeding to death?" Rodelind asked as she dabbed at the cut. Her voice was light, attempting humor, but it found no response in Hildegardes eyes. Her mother sighed. "It will be alright. It is not nearly so deep as the last time."

The other woman nodded.

"What shall we do?"

"I don"t know- we can’t take him to our house. The village thinks that he is...." Rodelind let her voice trail off. "And Godeoc...."

Hildegarde nodded. She knew that her mother would do whatever she asked, but she did not want to place her in the position of choosing between her husband and her only child. "We will tend for him here....see what you can do about cleaning the wound while I build a fire..."

6

The next morning, Hildegarde watched closely for any signs of movement from her patient. Maximus had slept throughout the night, restless, but unfevered, and she hoped that he might awaken soon. Rodelind had gone- returned to fix breakfast for the men in their hut- Godeoc, Brettix, Ratchis and Match- and now Hildegarde fought the urge to reach forward and touch her patient"s face...to curl into his arms and try to forget that four years had passed.

Four years.

At least he remembered her. That was a start. He thought that she was married....

"Urmmm....."

A sound from the Roman’s lips brought the woman quickly to attention. She scrambled away, lunging for a skin full of water to hold to his lips.

His eyes opened, he took a drink of water. Then he stared.

For just a moment, Hildegarde thought that he had lost his memories again, but all too quickly, his face clouded like a stormy sky. His features were distorted with emotion she had never seen in them before: hate, rage...fear.

"Hildegarde..." he rasped.

Before she could blink, he was struggling to his feet. "My sword..." he demanded hoarsely.

"What do you want to do?" she asked alarmed.

"I need to go....I must save them..." Maximus was trying to stand but he was staggering very badly, his hand pressed against the wall of the cave for support.

Hildegarde put her arms around him, "You can't move, you are too ill....."

"I must go ..I.." Maximus doubled over as a bout of cough shook him. He tried to do another step but his knees bend over him and he collapsed to the ground.

"Maximus, for Gods' sake, stay calm! You can't move!" Hildegarde turned him until he was lying on his side and massaged his back until the cough stopped. Then she made him lay down on the ground.

Hildegarde gasped as she met his eyes. He was crying, burning tears of pain, desperation, fear and rage. She grabbed his hand and asked, "What happened to you?"

With a raspy voice and stopping often to regain his breath, Maximus told her everything had happened to him and about the death sentence that hung on his wife and child. Hildegarde was horrified by his tale and moved by his desperation.

In the end he whispered, "Please help me, Hildegarde......I must reach them."

"I will help you....Here, drink this, it will make you feel better." The healer helped the sick man to drink all the potion she had prepared before and then watched as the medicine worked, knocking him out.

*****

That afternoon Rodelind returned, carrying more medicines and news from the village. "Godeoc is so busy with the preparation of the meat for the winter that he did not noticed your absence but little Match wants to know were his mama had gone. "Rodelind's features softened, as it usually happened when she spoke about her grandson.

Hildegarde nodded.

"Did he regain his senses?" the older woman asked watching Maximus.

"Yes.....I..Oh, mother you don't know what horrible things are happening to him!" Hildegarde exclaimed, twisting her tunic in her hands.

"Tell me," her mother said quietly.

Hildegarde told her everything and Rodelind gasped with horror. No one, not even a Roman, deserved such fate.

"What do you plan to do?"

"I need to keep him here at least for a week..." the younger woman paused a moment then added softly, "I want to tell him about Match."

"What!? Are you crazy?" Rodelind almost shouted.

"He deserves to know the truth."

"But what we will do if he decides to take Match away? I don't want to lose my grandson!"

"Maximus will never do such a thing." Hildegarde with certainty. She caressed his face gently and added, "I just hope meeting his son will give a reason to stay quiet a few days more."

Rodelind pressed her lips and nodded, acknowledging her daughter would not change her mind.

*****

The following day, Maximus wake up at dawn.

He felt much stronger than yesterday. In silence he threw away the furs covering him and looked around. His feature softened when he saw Hildegarde curled on the other side of the cave, still deeply asleep.

He stood up and moving carefully searched for his sword, finding it posed against the wall. He tied it to his belt, grabbed one of the furs for warm and turned to leave the cavern. The point of his sword scraped against the stone producing a sound and Hildegarde woke up.

She saw him exting the cave and called, "Maximus? What is it? Maximus?"

"You know what is it....I must go!" He paused, and looked at her. For just a moment, his features relaxed. His gaze was full of apology. All too soon, it ended, replaced by the fearful urgency she had found when he awoke the day before. "I"m sorry."

And then he walked toward the his horses.

"Maximus, stop! Maximus....Maximus, you aren"t well...!!" Hildegarde shouted scrambling on her feet and following him outside.

He ignored her.

"Maximus stop! I must tell you about Match!" she called desperately.

The general turned and looked at her without understanding, "Match?"

"Yes, Match....He is my son......YOUR son."

"What?" Maximus blinked, not trusting his ears.

"Our son, Maximus, he is a wonderful baby...he has your eyes... My mother is bringing him here..." Hildegarde was speaking softly, trying to approach him.

Maximus heart was beating wildly. Hildegarde had a son. His son. Match. He wanted desperately to stay there and meet the boy but his other son needed him in Hispania.

Suffocating his emotions, he pulled himself onto the stallion and said, "I will be back to meet him. I promise it." When he grabbed the other horse's reins and galopped away.

"Match! Don't go!!!!"Hildegarde cried, abandoning her struggle with the syllables of his Latin name. Please don't leave me again. But it was all useless : he had already disappeared among the trees.

Hildegarde stared in stunned silence. Everything had happened so quickly....

What could she do? Maximus needed help. His condition was still critical and she no doubt he would began to cough again very soon, but how she could help him? Hildegarde began to run through the wood, following his path. It was then she saw her mother coming in her way with Match. Hildegarde withheld her breath when she saw Rodelind had taken the family mare! In a flash the young woman was near them.

"Mother! Dismount! Quick!" she called.

Rodelind was too stupefied to respond and did as her daughter asked. Hildegarde ran to her and after a quick kiss on her son’s cheek she said, "Take care of him, I must help Maximus!"

"What? Hildegarde, where are you going? Hildegarde!!!" Rodelind was frantic but her daughter did not answer or stop. She jumped on the mare and kicked her flanks hard, throwing herself on Maximus' tracks.

7

Quintus was greeted as a hero when he arrived in Augusta Vindelicorum. The news of the last, decisive victory against the barbarians had spread as fast as the fire in a dry forest. Soldiers and inhabitants of the little town came out in the street to congratulate with him. Quintus was a bit embarassed by all the attention but he understood how important the promise of a lasting peace was for the people living in the area after so many years of wars and raids.

However he was not in the mood to loose time. He wanted to reach the little house inside the castrum where his family was waiting for him.....he could not bear to wait another minute before hugging Antonia and his two little boys, Titus and Appius.

*****

Antonia was reading in the little library/study of her home was she heard a great commotion coming from outside. She put down the volumen and walked to atrium to see what was going on. Her heart jumped in her chest when she saw the small procession coming in her way. Her eyes swept over the jubilant soldiers and citizens to concentrate over the lone rider who was leading him. "Quintus!" she whispered as she recognized her husband's face. Only the fact that she was the Emperor's niece kept her from rushing out of the house and into his arms. The people of the camp and the little town considered her as their princess: the perfect example of the Roman matron, a jewel in those still uncivilized lands. She did not want to upset them with unlady-like behaviour. However, it took all of Antonia's resolve to simply walk to meet her husband, her stola pulled modestly over her brown-gold hair.

Quintus saw his wife walking among the crowd and his breath stopped. She looked like Venus exiting the sea, a godness among mere mortals. Never leaving her with his gaze, he dismounted from his horse, and walked to her to, the people surruonding him stepping politely away.

Then they were one in front of the other, they stared for a few moments before Quintus spoke, "You are beautiful, my Lady." And then he kissed her hand, lingering with his lips on her smooth skin a little bit longer than customs required.

"As you are, domine." They smiled to each other, conscious that their restraint was due only to their 'audience'. Quintus offered his arm to Antonia and together they walked to their house.

When finally the door shut behind their back, they turned to each other and embraced tightly. Antonia dis not mind being crushed against his hard armor, she was so happy to be in his arms again.

After a while Quintus loosened his grip and cupping her jaw in his hand raised her face to him, "I missed you so much, my love." he whispered before kissing her tenderly and passionately at the same time. Antonia responded in kind, releasing all of the worries of the past six months. Their ardor was increasing to a dangerous level when a little voice called, "Mama?"

They both turned a little bit embarassed to meet the sleepy eyes of Titus.

The child tilted his head and then a smile appeared on his face, "Tata!" he shouted, letting the stuffed doll he was carrying fall to the ground and running toward his father. Quintus barely had time to bend down to receive the little embrace.

"Titus! Look how you have grown!" The general picked the boy up and raised him to the sky, inspiring delighted laughter. "So, have you been a good little man while I was away?" he asked sitting Titus on his arms.

"Yes, I was!" the child replied firmly and Antonia quirked a eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Mama, It was not I who threw the dirty dish water on lady Clodia! It was Appius!" the child was adamant in his defense.

"Of course!" both parents said at unison.

"And where is your guilty brother?" Quintus inquired.

"He is sleeping......He is always sleeping." Titus looked disgusted.

"If he is always sleeping he can't be causing trouble, so...." Quinrus looked in his son's eyes and the boy turned his head away. "Oh, well you are both forgiven. But don't it again, all right?"

Titus nodded with his head, before kissing his father's cheek. Quintus winked to Antonia and, hugging his son to his chest went in the other room to wake up Appius.

*****

Later that night, cuddling in each other's arms after carrying out their very 'private' reunion, Antonia and Quintus told to each other what had happened to them while they were separated. He told her about the strategies which had led to the final battle and how it had developed. Antonia loved to hear about the military reports and liked to comment them. In return she told him about their children's exploits and about the life in the camp. After so many months spent speaking almost entirely of life-and-death matters, it was pleasurable to hear such silly news as a centrurion’s new affair or how the tavern owner was trying to convince the soldiers that the beer was better than the wine.

"And of course," Antonia went on, "The most exciting thing which happened here was the arrival of the imperial carriage last week. The Centurion Cassius did of his best to impress the crown prince...the soldiers' armors were so polished you could use their breastplates for mirrors! But I doubt Commodus noticed it. My cousin is so wrapped within himself." Her voice died and she shook her head.

"I saw him in Vindobona. He is quite an unsettling young man. He spent much of the night speaking with Maximus and I can assure you our friend was not happy to have him near."

"Well, my husband, I don't like to have Commodus near either. I visited him in the Praetorium the evening he spent here and it was not a pleasurable experience. He has changed from the last time I saw him in Rome and not for the better. Sometimes I wonder how a fine man like my uncle could have fathered such a son."

"I think Marcus Aurelius himself wonders about it. He seemed very cold with Commodus. He even refused to walk with him in front of the troops."

Antonia nodded. "May I tell you something?"

"Since when do you need my consent to speak?" Quintus asked, kissing her hair.

"It is just an idea of mine and you might think I am crazy...."

"Tell me."

"Well, while he was here, Commodus gave me the impression that he believed Marcus Aurelius had called him in Germania because he wants to announce his son's succession...."

Quintus nodded, inviting her to go on.

".....But if I know my uncle, it is more probable he called Commodus to tell him that he WON'T become emperor.."

"What? And to whom, by the Gods, will Marcus Aurelius leave the throne?"

"Can't you guess? For me it is obvious. He has been planning the move for more than four years…" Antonia smiled, certain of her deductive abilities. "Oh, Quintus, don't be so dumb! Why do you think my uncle wanted him to marry me so badly?"

"Maximus?!" Quintus sounded incredulous.

"Why not? He is a moral, a just man and he is a leader- Not to mention the fact uncle loves him like a son."

"You forget Maximus knows nothing about politics! He has never been to Rome. And he wants to return home to be a farmer."

"Yes, that could be a problem but Caesar can be very persuasive....."

Quintus was still very skeptical and Antonia pursed her lips. "All right, you don't like my idea. Very well, let's concentrate on something you do LIKE...." and with an impertinent smile on her face, her hands began to caress his chest, slowly disappearing beneath the sheets...

8

For the second time in as many days, Maximus felt the hair on his nape stand up in alarm. He stopped his horse and turned around, watching to the road he had just covered. He was almost certain that someone was following him, but who could it be? Praetorians? Had they found their dead comrades and were now seaching for him? Or it was a mere thief wanting to steal his horses? Worried as he was, Maximus decided to end the matter while he was in a better position than his follower. It didn’t make sense to risk being surprised in the middle of the night --especially considering how bad he felt in the cold air --while he could get the upper hand in the middle of the day. Quickly he galloped to a nearby creek he knew was in the area and pushed his horses across it, walking along the stream for around 100 yards. Then he exited the water and covered a large semi-circle in the forest, until he reached again the road behind his follower. The prey was now the hunter. Hidden in the forest, Maximus spied the lone, fur-covered rider and saw him come to the stream and stop, looking to the left and to the right, scanning the area and searching for him. Maximus watched for some moments, wondering about how strange the rider's movements looked, and then unsheathed his sword and charged forward.

The follower's horse reacted to the unexepected noise by rearing and its rider had to grab its neck to avoid a fall. The sudden move made the rider's hood slip backward, revealing a thick mane of chestnut hair. Maximus lowered his sword and stared open mouthed for a second before asking, his voice a mixture of rage and surprise, "Hildegarde, what are you doing here?"

"I could not let you go away alone. You are still too sick!" Hildegarde raised her chin in a defiant expression but inside her she was praying he did not send her away.

"This is not a pleasure trip! You know what I am doing! I am returning home to save my family.....It might be dangerous...."

"I know it and I am not afraid."

But you should be. I am terrified. "What about your son...our son? He needs you."

"My mother and Godeoc are caring for him. He will be all right." Hildegarde bit her lower lips, "Please, Maximus, I could not let you go away again....I....I am not asking anything from you, just let me come with you and care for your health ...please."

Maximus's heart twisted upon seeing her loving gaze and hearing her plea. How could he send her back? They were too far from the village. He rubbed his brow, "All right, come with me." He turned around and went to retrieve the second horse which he had left in the forest. He returned near the woman and, muffling a bout of coughing, said, "Let's go."