The Bravest Champion

By Ilaria

Rome, late summer 181AD

The mob crowding the stands erupted in a roar when the Augusta Lucilla made her entry into the imperial box that overlooked the sand ring of the Colosseum, both saluting her and welcoming the beginning of that afternoon’s gladiatorial games.

Lucilla briefly hailed at the crowd with her hand, doing till the end her representative duty, then sat on her marble chair and gestured to Cassius, the editor of the arena, to start with the spectacles.

Almost at once the giant gates of the arena opened and a group of gladiators wearing strange armour and helmets, and carrying shields and a spears erupted into the sand ring, coming to a halt in its centre, just in front of the imperial box.

Upon seeing them, Lucilla lowered her head and almost groaned aloud.

It was going to be another battle.

"We who are about to die, salute you!"

The gladiators’ shout recalled her to the present, just in time to listen to Cassius’ introduction. Not that she really needed to hear it to know what was going to happen.

"On this day we reach back to hallowed antiquity to bring you a recreation of the second Fall of Mighty Carthage. On the barren straits of Zama, there stood the invincible armies of the Barbarian Hannibal. Ferocious mercenaries and warriors from all brute nations bent on merciless destruction conquest. Your Emperor is pleased to give you the Barbarian Horde!"

Lucilla grimaced, remembering her father’s accounts of the barbarian hordes he had seen in Germania and shook her head, wondering why people did not travel to the battlefields if they really wanted to see them too.

A few feet away, Cassius had almost completed his introduction with, "…The Emperor is pleased to bring you the Legionaries of Scipio Africanus!" when the gates burst open and several war chariots galloped into the arena, one at a time.

Lucilla turned her head away, not interested to watch the bloodbath that would soon start.

It was hard enough to have to attend the games to represent her absent brother, but witness to the slaughters the staged battles always turned into, was almost impossible.

"And yet," she said to herself, "I would gladly endure a thousand of them if it would ensure Commodus remains away from Rome and Lucius."

Lucilla could not help but bless the German tribes that, by breaking the borders and pillaging several villages, had caused Commodus to leave Rome in hurry for the frontier, thus enabling her to have some respite from the constant anxiety his presence and behaviour raised in her. In truth, a part of her was very worried because of the news arriving from the North. It had been years since the barbarians had been able to break inside the Empire, not for lack of trying, but because the army had always defeated them before they could do any harm. But this time something had not worked in the Roman defensive system.

Lucilla had read the dispatches and reached the conclusion that the Commander of the Armies of the North had committed a terrible mistake underestimating the strength of the enemy. He had ignored the scouts’ reports regarding an alliance between the tribes and had not acted until it was too late to stop the avalanche.

"Maximus would have never committed such a mistake," a cruel voice commented inside her, and Lucilla closed her eyes, trying to block it. Eighteen months had elapsed since the night Maximus had been killed in Germania, and yet the wound in her heart and conscience did not show any sign of starting to heal.

A loud shout from the crowd recalled her back to the present and she was almost grateful for it, because it stopped her thoughts from wandering in a direction that would only raise pain and guilt inside her. She blinked her eyes and turned her head to look at what had caused such a reaction. Had the battle already ended?

It took her few moments to understand that the "barbarian horde", far from being slaughtered as she had predicted, was instead resisting against their much faster opponents.

Lucilla’s eyebrows arched in surprise when she saw the men on foot had grouped together, knelt and formed a circle, backs to each other, their shields locked edge to edge, as legionaries would have done. A chariot approached them at full speed, but when it was close enough, the gladiators nearest it changed their positions and the angles of their shields, causing the wheels to ride up on them, thus unbalancing the cart and making it heel over on its side.

Lucilla gasped along with crowd at that perfectly executed manoeuvre, before the battle seemed to speed up as the "barbarians" ceased to simply defend themselves and started to counterattack. She had trouble following all the action in front of her, so she decided to concentrate on the man who seemed to be the leader of the "barbarians". She watched as he freed a horse from a disabled chariot and, jumping on its back, started to pursue the remaining "legionaries", killing them first with a spear and later with a sword one of his men threw to him.

Lucilla had no love for games, but she watched with breathless attention the helmeted warrior’s actions, admiring his courage, his skills and the ability with whom he had been able to transform an almost certain defeat in a victory.

And when the end finally arrived, and the rider raised his sword arm to the sky in triumph, Lucilla could not help but stand up and clap, adding her approval to that of the roaring crowd. Like her father before her, she appreciated braveness and this man seemed to possess plenty of it, no matter how low his station in life was. Her eyes gazed again over his form, observing him as he jumped down from his white mount. He was a tall, robust man, with tanned skin. He moved with confidence, and despite the fact he was but a mere slave, he seemed surrounded by an aura of authority.

In that moment Cassius appeared at her side, looking very concerned.

"What is it?" Lucilla asked.

"I came to apologize, My Lady. The Barbarians should have lost the battle of Carthage."

"No need, I rather enjoy surprises." Lucilla smiled and pointed to the arena, indicating the winning gladiators’ leader. "Who is he?

"They call him the Spaniard, My Lady."

She had barely time to nod at that for just then, as if they had overheard their conversation, the crowd began to chant, with increasing force: "Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard!"

Lucilla looked as the gladiators walked away noticing that, while several of them played with the mob, shouting and hailing at it, the hero of the day seemed rather subdued. He did not reply to the people calling his name, but continued to walk with his head lowered.

She found that behaviour puzzling, but had no time to wonder about it for Cassius reclaimed her attention again.

§§§§§

Five days later Lucilla found herself back into the Colosseum for another set of games.

She was not in a good mood for the news arriving from Germania was very worrying. The legions were still fighting to regain control of the invaded areas and Commodus, instead of asking for reinforcements, was said to be negotiating a paid truce with the barbarians.

Lucilla and Senator Gracchus, her most trusted friend and ally, had commented on this new development when they had briefly met outside the amphitheatre, but neither of them had dared to say what they really thought for fear to be overheard by the spies Commodus had filled Rome with.

"Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard!"

The loud chant almost startled Lucilla, so lost she had been in her musings. She looked down in the sand ring and saw that first match was about to begin.

The gladiator she had applauded few days before had just walked into the arena and stopped in front of her. As the previous time he wore a helmet and leather armour decorated in silver, but now he carried a round shield and he had a gladius instead of a spear.

Lucilla’s eyes moved to his opponents and she bit her lower lips when they rested over four tall, massive, ebony-black Nubians. They carried a shield and a sword each and when they surrounded the Spaniard, they made him look small compared to them, almost obscuring his shape from her sight.

At Cassius’ signal, the fight began.

In the beginning it was a hard match to look for those who, like Lucilla, had taken a liking to the Spaniard. The helmeted warrior had to deflect blows from every direction, and on a couple of occasions it seemed that there was no chance for him. However, after a while, he managed to turn the tables on them. He killed one of the Nubians and dropping his shield to take up the dead man’s sword, he went after the other three, using his superior agility and skills to compensate his being one against three. The Spaniard charged and deflected, bowed, side-stepped and attacked until, in the end, he was the only one remaining standing, as the Nubians contorted at his feet in agony.

The crowd roared and started to chant his name again, and Lucilla rose to her feet, honouring him. She had always loved when the outsider won because of his better skill, and there was no doubt that the man still standing in the middle of the arena, his chest heaving, was extremely gifted.

The thought, coming from nowhere, shocked Lucilla, as did the sudden bout of desire that, coursing through her body, obliged her to reach out with her hand for the balustrade to steady herself.

It had been ages since she had felt desire for a man.

So long she had thought she had forgotten how it felt.

She had not experienced it since before her marriage, when she had been in love for the first and only time in her life and had dreamed and hoped Maximus would teach her what physical love was. It had not happened and never again had Lucilla felt that longing, not even for her husband, despite the fact he had always done his best to pleasure her in their marriage bed.

And now, all of sudden, she felt again that thrill, that quickening in her pulse, that ache in her belly- and all of this for a slave whose face she had never seen. Her eyes stared hungrily at the muscled, tanned flesh of the Spaniard as he walked to the gates. She was unable to tear her gaze away, following his back till he disappeared in the Colosseum bowels.

And by the time he did it, Lucilla had already taken her decision.

She wanted that man.

And she was going to have him.

She should be shocked by that idea, and yet she was not.

It was common enough for the rich matrons to pay for being pleasured by the bravest champions, as her mother, the late Empress Faustina had often demonstrated, while her husband had turned his head away. Lucilla had always been critical regarding her mother’s behaviour, finding it unbefitting for a lady of her rank but now it was her turn, for once in her life, to drop the role her birth and society had given and imposed on her to be just a woman.

She knew it would be potentially dangerous, but that feeling, that sensation in her flesh, was too heady, too intoxicating to be ignored and this time she would have the power to try to bring it to its conclusion and have the man that had caused her that sweet torment.

Lucilla had never had Maximus, but she was going to have the Spaniard.

§§§§§

By the time the next evening fell, and she was introduced into a humid, stinking cell in the Colosseum, Lucilla’s will had wavered more than once.

It had been easy enough, the day before, won by that long forgotten feeling, to let her body take control of her and push her to do something as uncharacteristic of her as send her trusted secretary to negotiate with the Spaniard’s owner the purchase of the gladiator’s "services".

Diadumenian had looked at her with wide eyes, not believing at first she had really ordered him to do what he had heard, and while she had been able to keep her gaze steady, it had been a hard task.

That morning she had woken up after a night of troubled sleep haunted by nightmares about her antics being discovered and made public, but even if they had put her ill at ease, it had not been enough to make her change mind.

Diadumenian had then come to report to her that he had made her "appointment" with the Spaniard for that very night, and had informed her he had taken the liberty to order that the gladiator would be blindfolded and chained to the wall.

"For your privacy and protection, My Lady," he had told her, but Lucilla knew him enough to understand he had tried to show her how sordid and debasing the situation really was.

She had not been angry but neither had relented.

In truth she had struggled with her conscience for the entire afternoon. It had told her not to go to the appointment, reminding her how important was her reputation and how dangerous it could turn out if Commodus discovered it, given how jealous he was. But in the end another part of her had won, the one she was less proud of. The one that can be as calculating and scheming as Commodus himself; that could lie with ease; that could even talk of the necessity of killing her own brother…

That side of her had not merely wanted to experience desire again. It had also wanted to feel in command of the Spaniard, to bend that strong warrior to her will, and by doing it delude herself she still had some control over her own life.

Standing in a corner of the badly lit cell, a black cape covering her from head to foot, Lucilla rubbed her sweaty hands on her clothes. She was nervous and her already pounding heart quickened its beating when she heard steps come her way.

"This way," said a voice, just before the door opened.

Lucilla pressed closer to the stonewall, keeping her face in the shadows, as behind her back, she could hear some metallic noises- the guards chaining the Spaniard to the wall just as Diadumenian had requested. She just hoped they would not be too short to impede all of the man’s movements…

Finally the noises ceased and the guards walked away, closing the door behind them.

Lucilla waited till she heard their steps recede along the corridor, then she turned around, ready for her meeting with the Spaniard.

He was standing at the opposite side of the cell, his back against the wall. He was wearing just a blue-grey tunic with a high belt, and the fabric evidenced the taut muscles of his chest. He was even more impressive than he had been with his armour on.

Lucilla swallowed reflexively, letting her eyes skim leisurely along his body, before moving up. She wished to observe his face, but his head was in the shadows and the only thing she could see was he was blindfolded with a piece of white fabric.

The room was silent but for the sound of their combined, hurried breath and the occasional crackle of the torch. The Spaniard was immobile, his posture tense, as Lucilla kept on staring at him.

Was he afraid? Did he know what would soon happen to him? Would he do it willingly and enjoy the pleasure he would receive in return? Or would he consider it rape? Was he used to this or was it the first time?

Her stomach churned and she pushed those upsetting questions away. It was not the time to have second thoughts and she had not come so far to give up now. What the Spaniard was thinking was not her business. He was a slave and would obey her will. She wanted to give free rein to the lust that had started to course through her blood as soon as she had been in his presence and had felt the pull of his personality and masculinity- and she would do so, no matter what her conscience was telling her.

Taking a deep breath, Lucilla moved forward. Her steps echoed on the bare stone, alerting the Spaniard. She saw him shift his weight, step away from the wall and set his legs firmly against the ground, and his head came out of the darkness as he turned to face her.

In the years that would follow, Lucilla would be ready to swear her heart stopped beating when, in the flaming light of the torch, she recognized the face of the last man she had thought, imagined, hoped or dreamed to meet in that cell.

Maximus.

The Spaniard was Maximus.

She blinked her eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on her, but it was not so.

Even with a blindfold covering his eyes, there was no way she could not recognize that strong, bearded jaw. That proud, straight nose. That small, sensual mouth.

It was really him.

Maximus.

The only man she had ever loved and wanted.

The man she still loved and wanted.

The man she had not be able to save in Germania and whose death she had mourned for more than a year and half.

And instead he was alive and in front of her.

Blindfolded and chained.

A gladiator.

A slave.

The room seemed to spin around her and Lucilla walked to the nearby wall and put a hand against it to steady herself. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to calm down, as confused thoughts ran through her mind.

How was it possible for Maximus to be a slave? What had happened to him? Commodus had ordered him killed, but she had overheard the Praetorians sent to execute him had never returned. Had they decided to give Maximus to the German tribes in exchange for a fat purse? Lucilla shook her head at that silliness. Had they done so, Maximus would have been tortured and killed by the barbarians soon after. No, things had to have gone differently. But how?

There was only a sure way to know.

Ask Maximus.

Strengthening her resolve, Lucilla left the safety of the wall and walked toward the chained man, till she was at arm’s length from him. She saw him tense even more and clench his fists.

"Don’t touch me."

Maximus’ rumbling, threatening voice washed over her and tears rose in Lucilla’s eyes at that beloved sound. If she had any doubt she might have been mistaken about his identity, that voice swept them away.

Ignoring his warning, she moved closer to him and raised her trembling arm to pull away the blindfold. At the first brush of her fingers against his cheek, Maximus wrenched away his head.

"Stay away!" He growled.

"Shhh…" She soothed him, before reaching out again for the piece of fabric wrapped around his head. It was not tightly tied and it came loose at the first tug.

Lucilla watched fascinated as Maximus blinked to focus his vision and then fixed his blue-green eyes on her. She watched amazed at the array of expressions that appeared on his features as he recognized her.

Surprise. Shock. Incredulity. Rage.

This last emotion was so strong, radiating from him like heat from fire, that Lucilla took an instinctive step back. She had not known what she could expect from him, but she had not been prepared for such a negative emotion that was so alike to hate…

He said nothing, just breathed hurriedly, and in the end she gathered enough strength to ask, "What- what are you doing here, Maximus?"

"You should know," he almost spat. "They brought me here for your pleasure."

Lucilla felt a blush of shame creep across her cheeks. "That’s not what I meant. How did you end up a gladiator? What happened to you?"

"You know what happened. You were in Germania too." Maximus answered in a flat tone.

"Yes, but…" Lucilla fell silent and squeezed her brain, trying to find a way to break through his obstinate stance. "I am sorry for what took place that night…I did not mean it to happen.."

Maximus let out a short, humourless laugh. An unpleasing sound. "Should I feel grateful for your understanding?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Lucilla breathed harshly. This was not going anywhere. Maximus was refusing to communicate.

It was not the first time it happened.

She remembered all too well his stubborn silence and unyielding stance the evening she had gone to apologize to him, after he had discovered she was promised to Lucius Verus and that all her talk of her father considering marrying her to Maximus were only lies.

He had stared at her stone-faced that long past evening, and nothing – her apologies, her pleas, her tears, her declarations of love – had softened him. She had gone to him begging for his forgiveness and assurance he still loved her, but received neither. Maximus had raised a wall around his heart and she had not be able to break through it. Just as it was happening now.

"What are you waiting for?" His voice intruded into her thoughts.

"What?" Lucilla shook her head, not understanding.

Maximus smirked. "I was brought here to service you, lady. Do what you want to do, and let me return to my cell. I am tired. I wish to sleep."

Lucilla stared at him, shocked. Her mouth opened, but it took her few seconds to control her voice. "How- how can you think I could do something like that to you, Maximus? I would never do it."

"Then go away and never come here again."

Her eyes filled with tears at his cold tone. "Why are you treating me like this, Maximus? I am your friend, I wish to help you…" She seemed to have lost her pride, pleading with him as she had done twelve years before. "Please, let me help you…"

"I don’t want your help. Now go away and forget you ever knew me." And before she was able to speak again or protest, Maximus raised his voice and called, "Guard! The lady has finished with me."

Lucilla felt so sad, so defeated and so tired she did not even dispute his claim. In truth, the guard should have waited for her orders, but it did not matter at that time.

The door opened and she threw a last, pained look at Maximus’ unreadable face, before turning on her heel and walking away.

§§§§§

Dawn found Lucilla wide awake and with her mind sharp despite a sleepless night, ready to face the new day and the task she had decided to accomplish.

Help Maximus – no matter how unwilling he was.

The evening before, when she had returned to the Palace after her encounter in the Colosseum, Lucilla had closed herself in rooms and dismissed her maids, sending them to bed as she undressed and attended to her person by herself. She had needed to be alone and find again an appearance of calm.

Meeting Maximus had shocked her deeply and she had needed a lot of time to bring her turbulent emotions under control. Brushing her long, honey-coloured hair in front of the mirror had helped her to relax, although her eyes had not seen her reflection in the polished metal, but Maximus’ face.

Alive, in the flesh, furious…and so very handsome.

Lucilla could not stop remembering how attractive he had been.

While confronting with him, trying to make him understand she was not an enemy, she had not been aware how his look and proximity had been affecting her. She had believed that discovering his identity and the resulting shock, had pushed away her lusty feelings, but it had not been completely true. And once back in the quiet of her rooms, she could not help but think about him.

He had looked noble and proud in the simple tunic, even more than he had been when she had seen him dressed in his uniform.

She had remembered how it had been to meet him again in Germania, after more than ten years since the last time they had seen each other. She had been impressed by the man Maximus had become. She had never stopped loving the boy he had been when they had first met, but he had paled in comparison to the mature man he was now. Quieter, more intense, commanding.

Back then Lucilla had desperately wanted to again make a connection with him and to feel again that warmth only he had been able to raise in her. But it had not gone as she had wished.

She had hoped Maximus would have forgiven or at least forgotten her past mistakes, but it had been evident he had not. He had flung her lies in her face and, stung, she had snapped at him, although she had immediately tried to win him back. The conversation had turned to her father and then to their sons and her heart had rejoiced when Maximus has softened while he spoke of his boy. For a moment it had seemed like the walls they had built around themselves were going to crumble, but he had not allowed it, walking away and leaving her alone with her longing- but not completely hopeless.

She had thought there would be other occasions to talk with him, to try to win again his friendship and trust, if not his love, but then the night had fallen, literally and metaphorically.

Her father had died and Maximus had refused to give his loyalty to Commodus, thus signing his death warrant.

Lucilla thought she knew why he had done so. She too had noticed the bluish marks around her father’s neck and seen the grimace of his still face. She had no delusions he had died peacefully during his sleep as Commodus claimed. But while a part of her had wanted to react exactly as Maximus, her concerns for Lucius had pushed her onto a different path.

Although frightened by the man her brother had turned out to be, she had found the strength to tell him with no words she knew what he had done. Then she had slapped him twice – once for her father, once for Maximus – before taking his hand and kissing it- for Lucius.

They had then returned to Rome and while Commodus had proceeded to precipitate the empire in a reign of terror, Lucilla had often wondered what could have been if she had not been such a coward but used her influence, on her brother and the Praetorians, to help Maximus. She had thought she would be able to control her brother as she had done in the past, but facts had proved her wrong, and now she lived in a constant fear for Lucius and herself.

What could have been, she had wondered that night as she lay in bed, if she had helped Maximus? Would have he have taken the throne? She was sure he would have been a great Caesar, honest and strong, just like her father had been. And why a prudent man like him had committed such a rash action as refusing Commodus’ hand? Was it just because of his suspicions regarding Marcus Aurelius’ death, or had he other reasons?

Lucilla could not help but remember how Maximus had paced back and forth in the Praetorium, after leaving her father’s tent and before she had interrupted him. He had looked nervous, tense, as if he had been fighting an inner war. And he had avoided telling her why the emperor had summoned him…What had really transpired inside the tent? Had it something to do with what had happened later that night?

It was not the first time Lucilla had pondered these matters but, as usual, she found no answers to her questions…However, that night, something was different- very much so. For Maximus was still alive and he could tell her what she wished to know.

But how to convince him to do it?

He had emphatically told her he did not want to see her again- and his words had wounded her deeply, even if she could understand his feelings. He had lost every one and everything he had held dear: his family, his freedom, his rank. And more importantly he had lost his faith, so much so that he seemed to accept his fate without even opposing it.

And his destiny would lead him to certain death, in the Praetorians’ hands if not in the arena, for there was no doubt Commodus would have him killed as soon as he discovered he was still alive. And once again she would have to be a witness, powerless and broken hearted…

Lucilla sat up abruptly, as an idea flashed into her mind.

There was a way to save Maximus. Nothing was lost – yet.

She could still save him, take him away from Rome, from the Colosseum and from Commodus. She had the means to do so.

It would be risky, yes, but Lucilla could not turn her head away another time. She could not leave the man she had loved her entire life alone and in mortal danger.

She would help him, one way or another, no matter if he liked it or not.

It was something she had to do if she still wanted to be able to look at herself in the mirror.

She loved Maximus and it was time to demonstrate it.

§§§§§

It was already dark when Lucilla crossed the threshold of a house overlooking the Ludus Magnus, the large compound that hosted the gladiators destined for the Colosseum.

Dressed in a dark cape, she was escorted only by Diadumenian, who had stubbornly refused to let her deal alone with Antonius Proximo, the man who owned Maximus- or better, the gladiator known as the Spaniard for Lucilla doubted any man could ever own Maximus. The old man had been shocked to hear his mistress’ plans, but everything had changed when she had explained to him who the Spaniard really was and why it was so important to take him away from Rome.

Lucilla had revealed everything to him not only because Diadumenian was absolutely trusted, having been at her service since she was a child, first as a tutor and then as her private secretary, but also because she had felt the need to unburden herself and to receive some kind of support. It was so hard to be strong day after day, when everything she wanted was to lower her guard and relax in someone’s arms. In Maximus’ arms…

Once he had learnt the truth, Diadumenian at once approved her actions and had insisted to be the one purchasing Maximus from Proximo, so that her involvement would remain unknown, but Lucilla had declined his offer. She suspected she would have to use her influence to convince the lanista to do as she wished.

Proximo received them in a small room that looked like a study. He offered them wine and a seat, but Lucilla refused both, and the white haired man understood she did not want to lose time.

"What can I do for you, lady?"

"I want to buy the Spaniard."

Proximo’s eyes first widened in surprise, than narrowed with malice. "Was he so good two evenings ago?"

Diadumenian gasped at the insolence and moved a step forward. "How do you dare to-"

Lucilla silenced him with an imperious gesture of her hand.

"Yes, he was."

Proximo smirked. "Good. But I am afraid, lady, you will have to keep on enjoying him in the cells. He is not for sale."

"You have not even heard how much I can offer for him."

"I don’t need to. The Spaniard is making me very rich in the arena and I quite doubt you can match that amount of money."

"What you say is right," Lucilla said, moving further into the room and picking up a small pot, looking at it as if it was something extraordinary, "but for how long? Aside from the fact the Spaniard could be killed every time he steps into the arena, we both know that if he keeps on winning and putting on such displays, the crowd will ask for his freedom when Caesar returns, and I can tell you my brother won’t refuse their request."

"Your- your brother?" Proximo stammered and paled under his tan.

Lucilla pushed back her hood. "Yes, my brother. Commodus. He will be back soon and I will be the first one to tell him to free the Spaniard. As you may know, my brother is very fond of me and will do as I ask. And you will lose your slave, without getting a single as in compensation." She paused and looked intently at Proximo, who swallowed hard.

"That is, if you don’t sell him to me now…I offer your 350.000 sestertii or a property in Lucania. What do you say?"

"You have illustrated your point very well, My Lady," the lanista replied with a bow of his head. "I cannot but agree with your considerations."

"So you accept my offer?" Lucilla tried to remain calm and not show too much eagerness, not betray her other emotions.

"Indeed I do, My Lady."

"And what do you want? The money or the land?"

"I want the money and the land. My Lady." Proximo stared boldly at her as her secretary gasped.

Lucilla stared back, nodding once. "Done."

She gestured to Diadumenian and watched as her secretary sat down at a desk and pulled his writing tools out of his bag.

For the next several moments Lucilla and Proximo discussed the various clauses of the deal while Diadumenian took notes on a wax tablet. When every point was satisfactorily resolved, he wrote two copies of the contract on pieces of papyrus. Proximo observed him with hawk-eyes and Lucilla looked outside the window, at the gladiators’ cells opening on the courtyard where Maximus was probably asleep, ignoring what was going to happen to him.

When the documents sanctioning the change of ownership of the Spaniard were ready, Proximo and Lucilla signed and sealed them, then a bank draft for 350.000 sestertii and act of property of a farm in Lucania exchanged hands and the deal was completed.

"Diadumenian will come at dawn to collect the Spaniard," said Lucilla, as she pulled up her hood and prepared to leave. "Have him ready to travel."

Proximo bowed his head. "As you command, My Lady."

"And don’t tell him who has bought him. He will discover it in due time."

"Of course."

"Good."

Lucilla nodded, looking calm and cool, but her heart was beating wildly.

Maximus was no longer a gladiator and soon he would be out of Rome and away from danger.

She had done it.

She had saved him.

§§§§§

The ride to Baia had never seemed so long to Lucilla, even when, as a young child, she had been eager to leave the confines of the Palace to spend some time at the summer villa, in her family’s company. Those weeks away from the rigid ceremonials of the imperial court had always been special for her, because it was the only occasion her father stopped being a Caesar to become only her tata, always ready to play with her and her numerous siblings.

Many a year had elapsed since then, but the villa in Baia had always remained a favourite of hers, so much that her father had given it to her as present when Lucius had been born, and she had spent several summers there, enjoying the sea and the sun with her son.

That year, however, had been different. Commodus had not allowed her and Lucius to leave Rome, for he had wanted both of them near to "enjoy" with him the 150 days of games he had organized to commemorate Marcus Aurelius.

Lucilla could only bend to his wishes, inwardly cringing every time Lucius was forced to see something his young eyes should have not, and when her brother had left for Germania, she had lost no time to send Lucius to Baia, away from the games and the heat of the Capital.

But as the imperial caravan trotted South along the Via Appia, it was not only the nostalgia for her son that made Lucilla restless and unable to concentrate on any of her usual travelling pastimes, such as sewing or reading.

More than ten days had passed since Maximus had been purchased and sent to Campania, and she looked forward to seeing him again. Well, to be sincere, Lucilla was also struggling to control her anxiety, for she had no idea of his reaction.

Would he be angry she had interfered with his life? Would he listen to her reasons? Would he understand she could not have acted differently?

She had ordered Diadumenian not to say anything to Maximus, for she wanted to be the one to do so, but when she had made that decision she had not known she would be forced to remain in Rome for ten more days. She had thought to leave the next afternoon, but then the news had arrived that another bout of plague was spreading in the Greek quarter, and she had to postpone her departure and give the necessary orders to face the crisis. Despite her annoyance and her worries, Lucilla had found the situation somehow amusing. She was a widow and thus, by a juridical point of view, she was little more than a minor that, by the law, would need a tutor to care for her business. And yet every one who counted in Rome – and even much of the mob – knew she was the person they owed the few good things Commodus’ rule had brought them. She, and handful of senators that stubbornly put the empire’s needs before their own, constantly risking Caesar’s anger by telling him what he did not wish to hear.

Once the crisis had abated, Lucilla had hurried to leave, wanting nothing more than to embrace her son, and see again the man that could have been his father if things had gone differently…

§§§§§

Lucilla had barely stepped down her wagon in front of her villa, when Lucius appeared, running in the courtyard wearing only his loincloth. Behind him came one of his guardians carrying his robe, but there was no way that middle aged woman could keep up with the excited youngster.

"Mother!" cried the boy, rushing into her arms.

"Lucius!" she exclaimed, pressing his body against her own, unconcerned about the display they were giving to the household. Most of the people living and working at the villa had been there since she had been a child, and she was not embarrassed to behave just like a mother in front of them.

Loosening her embrace, Lucilla stepped back to get a better look at her son. He was tanned and healthy, his hair longer and sun-blenched and she could swear he had grown since the last time she had seen him.

"You are taller, Lucius," she commented with a smile, ruffling his hair.

"Really?" the boy beamed at her.

"Oh yes. It will not long before you reach and then shoot past me. Your father and grandfather were both tall men and I am sure you will be too."

"Great!" Lucius grinned. "But I also want to be strong. A man tall but not robust is not that good. He is like a slim tree the wind can easily break. Instead I want to look like a oak." Lucilla was about to comment on that little piece of wisdom, when the boy added, "I want to be like the gladiator living here in the villa. Tall and strong."

Lucilla’s mouth opened in surprise. Lucius knew about Maximus? How did he discover the man was a gladiator? How much did he know about the whole matter?

"Mother? Are you all right? Did I say something wrong?" Lucius touched her arm, concerned.

"Yes, I am all right. I was just wondering how do you known…our guest is a gladiator?"

"Diadumenian told me…"

"I had told him to say nothing until I was here," she whispered with a frown.

"I know, but- but I was most insistent, Mother." Lucius glanced briefly at his bare feet, before adding, "And also very curious. You see, Mother, when the wagons arrived, it was already night, and I was in bed, sleeping. But they made so much noise they disturbed me. I opened the shutters to see what was the cause of it: an unknown man was making a lot of resistance while several of our servants pushed and pulled at him. So I dressed and ran down, wanting to know why they were treating him so badly. Diadumenian spotted me before I could put a foot in the courtyard and told me to stay away, for the man was dangerous. So I looked while he was dragged away and then I asked Diadumenian why the stranger was dangerous. He told me I would have to wait for your arrival to know more, but I was too curious…" Lucius lowered his head again and this time he did not raise it, until his mother prompted him to do so.

"What did you do?" Lucilla crossed her arms on her chest, looking sternly at her son.

"I blackmailed Diadumenian…I told him I would try to discover it by myself if he did not revealed it to me, and that meant going near that man…That scared him, thus he capitulated and told me the stranger is a gladiator."

"I see." Lucilla shook her head. "What you did is wrong, and unfair in Diadumenian’s regards. He cares for you and it was bad to take advantage of his fear."

"I know, Mother. I am not proud of what I did. I will ask Diadumenian’s forgiveness as soon I can. What do you think?" Lucius looked at her hopefully and she nodded.

"All right."

The boy smiled in relief, then excited expression returned to cross his face. "Why did you have a gladiator brought here, Mother? Do you want to have him fight in the local arena?"

"Absolutely not. You know I hate the games. I had sent that man here for other reasons." Lucius opened his mouth to say something, but she silenced him with a look. "I will tell you when the right time arrives. Now return to your play as I get settled."

Lucius nodded, knowing his mother could be inflexible when she decided so. He gave her a brief hug, then went away, running toward the beach.

Lucilla smiled with fondness, then moved inside the villa.

She was greeted by a maid that helped her to remove her palla, while another one offered her a cup of watered wine and a plate of sweets to quell her appetite while they arranged a more sumptuous meal.

Lucilla ate only one of the biscuits, more out of consideration for the cook’s work than for real hunger. Her stomach was contracted because of what Lucius had told her, about Maximus having been treated badly. She had given orders he was not to be harmed or abused in any way and she had hoped to have been obeyed.

"My Lady?"

Diadumenian appeared at her side while she was still munching and she greeted him with a nod, before indicating he should follow her.

They went to her study, and while they walked, Lucilla commented, "My son told me what happened the night you arrived, about how he blackmailed you to know Maximus’ identity."

"Oh mistress, I am so sorry to have disobeyed you but-"

"Shh, Diadumenian, I know why you did so. I am not angry, but if I were you I would expect to receive a contrite boy’s apology this evening." Lucilla pushed open the door of the tablinium, and went to her desk, where she sat down, before asking what really mattered to her. "How was the journey?"

"Fine, My Lady. The general was mostly quiet during the trip, and he did not make any attempt to escape. The problems started when we arrived here." The secretary’s voice died.

"What do you mean?" Lucilla stomach tightened even more as she saw her fears become reality.

"The general did not take well to be dragged away from Rome and even less to be kept in absolute ignorance of reason behind this change in his life."

"I see." Lucilla murmured.

"Forgive me, My Lady, but I don’t think you can. The general is furious. Completely out of his mind and dangerous. So much so, I had to order to keep him chained, because none of the servants feel safe in his presence. I just hope seeing you and understanding he is among friends will calm him."

Lucilla nodded, speechless and gestured Diadumenian to leave her alone. She had not imagined such a thing. She had thought Maximus would be curious, perhaps a little scared about his sudden sale, but certainly not so angry to oblige her secretary to restrain him.

Diadumenian was a very compassionate man, and if he had ordered Maximus to be chained it meant he had found that extreme measure necessary. And the implications frightened Lucilla. She had wanted to help Maximus, not to cause him even more pain and denigration.

Lucilla closed her eyes as she rested her head against the back of the chair for several moment. When she opened them again, there was a new resolution in their green depth.

She would not leave Maximus in the darkness a moment more.

She would go to him.

Now.

§§§§§

Lucilla followed Diadumenian to a room in the left wing of the villa. One of her gardeners, who seemed to have been on guard, saluted her with a bow.

"My Lady."

"Gneus. How is he?" She gestured to the closed door with her head.

"As usual. Brooding and uncooperative. He has eaten, though, and also washed. The previous days he refused to do it."

"Oh." Lucilla swallowed hard. "Is he still chained?"

"Of course!"

"Do you have the keys?"

"Yes, they are here, mistress." Gneus fingered them as they hung from his belt.

"Give them to me."

"What?! My Lady, you surely do not want to free him!" The gardener sounded almost outraged, as Diadumenian shifted his weight from a leg to the other, ill at ease.

"I will do what I believe is right. Now give me the keys." Lucilla stretched out her hand.

Gneus threw a pleading glance at the secretary, as if begging him to make her reason, but the other man just looked at him, resigned. So he untied the keys from his belt and handed them to Lucilla.

"At least allow us to come inside with you!" He begged her.

"It won’t be necessary. I have known Maximus for many years. He would not hurt me."

Diadumenian stepped in front of her. "My Lady Lucilla, forgive my boldness. You knew General Maximus, but I believe he is a different man now. He is the Spaniard, a ferocious gladiator- not your long-time friend. You must be very prudent inside there, and do not hesitate to call should you need help."

"I will be very cautious, I promise." Lucilla patted his hand. "Now open the door and let me inside."

Gneus and Diadumenian exchanged another hesitant look, but both knew they could only obey.

When their mistress set her mind on something, nothing and no one could push her away from her intended path.

§§§§§

Lucilla’s blood pounded in her ears as she watched Gneus pull the bolt and open the door. Clutching the fabric on the front of her dress in an unconscious attempt to comfort herself, she stepped inside the room.

It was large and comfortable, luminous even if the windows were located very high on the wall. There was a bed, a table with a chair, and a basin with a pitcher in a corner.

Lucilla took note of everything with just a quick glance, before her eyes stopped on Maximus.

He was standing near the bed, leaning against the wall where stood the rings to which his chains were fixed. He was dressed with the same blue tunic he had worn in Rome, and he looked well, although his beard was in need of a good shave; of course Diadumenian and Gneus had not trusted to give him a razor. But what really caught her attention were his eyes. They seemed to shine even more intensely than she remembered, emanating blue sparks like sapphires set against the golden bronze of his face.

It took her a moment to understand they were burning with rage, but she realized it an instant before Maximus’ features contorted in a grimace and he charged against her.

"YOU!" He sputtered viciously, before the chains at his wrists restrained him. "I should have surmised it was you! Last time you were not satisfied, and you want more?!"

Lucilla felt the urge to back away from the rage emanating from him, but she forced herself to remain where she was.

"Maximus, it is not what you think."

"No? And what is it then?" He hissed, the chains still stretched to their limit.

"I am trying to help you…" She pleaded with him.

"Did not you hear me last time? I told you I did not need your help!"

"Instead you needed it!" Lucilla almost shouted. "Maximus, you were a gladiator! You could have been killed any day in the arena. And what do you think would have happened upon Commodus’ return in Rome? The crowd would have asked for your freedom and you would have to face my brother-"

"Yes!" Maximus cried, giving another pull to the chains. "That was exactly what I was aiming to! But you ruined everything!" He glared at her and turned slightly away.

"What are you saying, Maximus? Commodus would have never set you free- he would have you killed as soon as he recognized you. That’s why I took you away. I can give you your freedom- I will give it to you…" Lucilla spoke softly, soothingly and took a couple of steps forward.

Maximus whirled on his heels and grabbed her by the throat with lightening speed.

"You don’t understand," he hissed, bringing his face very close to hers, "I don’t want to be free! I want to kill your brother."

"What?!" Lucilla stammered, acutely aware of the warmth of his breath on her cheek and of his hand on her neck, holding her but not squeezing.

"Do you know what he did to my family? They were burned and crucified while they were still alive."

"I knew nothing..."

"Don’t lie to me!" He shook her.

Lucilla swallowed hard. "I wept for them."

It was true. She had done it after overhearing one of the Praetorians sent to commit the murders give his report to Commodus.

"As you wept for your father? As you wept for your father?" Maximus hissed again, but he no longer sounded so enraged.

"I have been living in a prison of fear since that day. To be unable to mourn your father for fear of your brother. To live in terror every moment of every day, because your son is heir to the throne. Oh, I have wept." Lucilla told him, her eyes never leaving his, opening her soul in front of him.

"My son was innocent." His voice was now a mere whisper broken by emotion.

"So is mine. Must my son die, too, before you will trust me?"

Maximus released his hold on her throat and stepped back. "What does it matter if I trust you or not?"

Lucilla thought hard about how use that little opening to break through his defences.

"I can help you to have what you want…"

He looked at her, sceptic. "How?"

"My brother has enemies, most of all in the Senate, but so far they had not dared to stand up to him because of the lack of good alternatives to him. They do not want to cause a civil war, and need a strong leader…You could be that man…" Lucilla’s voice turned persuasive.

"They oppose him, yet they do nothing." Maximus leant back against the wall, shaking his head in disbelief.

"There are some politicians who have dedicated their lives to Rome. One man above all. I could arrange a meeting with him…"

"Why should I meet him? I do not care for politics."

"This man wants what you want."

"Then have him kill Commodus!" Maximus roared, and his voice echoed in the room and her heart.

Lucilla blinked back her tears of frustration. Once again he was refusing to let her in. She tried a different tactic.

"I knew a man once. A noble man. A man of principle, who loved my father and my father loved him. This man served Rome well."

Maximus swallowed hard, and lowered his eyes. "That man is gone." He murmured, "Your brother did his work well."

"I cannot believe it." She said firmly. " That man is still here. Hurt, beaten down, disillusioned, sad, but not defeated. I know it is so. You just have to let him come back to the light." Maximus stared at her and did not reply, but Lucilla got the impression he was struggling with himself to keep his emotions under control. "Let me help you," she whispered, moving closer to him. "Let me help him out of the darkness."

No answer.

Just a brief, almost unnoticeable nod after a long pause, but it was enough for Lucilla. Her heart almost jumped with joy. It would be a long road but they could make it. They would make it.

"Give me your hands, Maximus." She commanded softly and he obeyed, allowing her to free him from the chains.

"Thank you," he whispered, rubbing his wrists.

"There is no need." She answered, before adding, if only inside her mind. "I could not bear to see you treated like this a moment more." Then she said aloud, "I will leave you now. I am tired from the ride and I believe we both need time to think." Deep in her heart Lucilla hoped Maximus would ask her to stay a little longer, but he just nodded.

Thus, after giving him a last, long look, she turned on her heels and left the room.

Diadumenian and Gneus were anxiously waiting for her and they sighed in relief when she stepped out in the corridor, closing the door behind her.

"How did it go, My lady?" The two men asked in unison.

"As well as I can expect." Lucilla rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was exhausted.

Gneus moved to bolt the door, but she stopped him. "It is not necessary; he is a guest not a prisoner."

The gardener looked at her perplexed, but did not comment. Lucilla then turned to her secretary and ordered, "Bring some clean clothes to the general and also a razor- his beard needs a good trimming. And be sure to have the chains removed from his room."

Diadumenian nodded, albeit not completely convinced, but Lucilla did not notice as she started walking along the corridor.

§§§§§

Five days later Lucilla stepped out in the garden, after having given strict orders to not disturb her for any reason. She needed silence and quietness to find a solution to the worries plaguing her regarding Maximus.

She had been so filled with hope after their first encounter, but the next meetings had not gone as she had expected.

Maximus did not talk. Nor he was interested to hear what Lucilla wished to tell him- and it was quite a lot. She wanted to talk about their past and what had happened in Germania, and ask his forgiveness for all the pain she had caused him, but he simply refused to communicate with her.

Or with anybody else, for what it mattered.

Maximus spent his days alone, mostly closed in his room or walking in her estate or along the beach.

The first time he had gone out, Lucilla had feared he might leave for good, and when he had returned few hours later, covered in sweat as if he had been running, she had searched for something to say, but words had failed her again.

What must I do with him? Lucilla wondered, as she strolled along the neatly trimmed fences and well-cared for flowerbeds. I wish nothing more than help him, but how can I do it if he refuses to listen and to talk to me? I never stopped loving him and seeing him like this pains me. Would he believe me if I told him the truth? Maybe he just needs time, but it is a luxury we don’t have. Commodus might return at anytime. Perhaps I should simply face him and force him to hear what I have to say…

That last thought caused her mind to wander in an unexpected, completely different way. Lucilla imagined to have Maximus dragged in chains into her room, completely at her mercy. After all, she was his owner and the law gave her every right over him… It was a heady fantasy, and her breath quickened as the images flashed in front of her. She would force Maximus to listen to her declaration of love, and then she would demonstrate to him how much she desired him… touching him everywhere, his chest, neck, face, legs, until his body would scream for hers as she did for his…and then…then…Lucilla forced herself to stop. They were just a bunch of sordid fantasies, unbefitting a woman claiming to love a man. She could never submit Maximus to such humiliation and he would never forgive her if she did. No, there had to be a different way and she had best to find it instead of losing time with such idiocies.

It was then Lucilla became aware she was not alone.

There was someone else in that part of the garden. She could hear muffled voices come from beyond a tall fence, although she could not see anyone. Lucilla tensed her ears and arched her eyebrow when she realized one of the voices was Lucius. She then held her breath when the other voice talked again and she recognized it. Maximus.

When had Lucius befriended him? For how long had they been talking? Her mind was full of questions, but she decided to not pursue them. Careful to not make any noise, she walked closer to the fence, and the marble bench she knew was beyond it. That was why she could not see the boy and the man.

"May ask you something, sir?" Lucius was saying at that moment.

Lucilla heard no answer, but supposed Maximus must have nodded, for her son went on, "Have you known my mother for a long time?"

"More than ten years. Why are you asking?"

"Because when she told me about what happened to you, sir, I got the impression she liked you a lot; I wanted to see if it was the same for you."

Lucilla’s eyes widened in surprise.

The evening before, she had summoned Lucius to the room that housed the lararium and once there, in front of the family shrine, with Marcus Aurelius’ figurine as witness, she had revealed to her son who Maximus really was and what had happened in Germania the last time she had met him. It had been her first, real adult conversation with her boy, but she believed he was old and clever enough to understand the situation. Of course, she had not revealed to Lucius that Commodus had probably killed his own father, but had made sure he realized he absolutely could not tell his uncle Maximus was still alive.

Lucius had solemnly nodded, and Lucilla had known he would never break her trust, but she had not imagined she had betrayed her feelings for Maximus so much her son had noticed them.

Beyond the fence the conversation continued, with Maximus saying, "I too like her. I always have."

Lucilla’s heart skipped a beat.

"Then why you don’t talk with her?"

"It is a long story, Lucius, not suitable for such young ears." She guessed Maximus wanted to change topic, but Lucius did not.

"Are you angry with her because she is your mistress? Because you belong to her?"

There was a rustling noise and Lucilla had barely the time to hide behind a tree before Maximus’ head and shoulders appeared over the edge of the fence. "I do not wish to discuss it, young master. Forgive me."

The top of Lucius head peaked, barely visible. "There is nothing to forgive, sir. I was too nosy. I will leave you now, so you can continue your walk."

Lucilla heard steps walk away on the gravel covered path, then a loud sigh as Maximus sat down again on the bench. She remained where she was a while longer, then carefully returned to the villa, her mind lost in thought about what she had just heard. If she was right, in that conversation, there was the key to unlock Maximus’ defences…and she had to use it well.

§§§§§

The next evening, after dinner, Lucilla knocked on the door of Maximus’ room.

It opened at once and he appeared on the threshold.

"Lucilla," he said in that deep rumble that never failed to cause a shiver to run along her spine. "What can I do for you?" He was polite but cold.

"May I come in? I have something important to show you." Lucilla saw him stiffen, but he nevertheless motioned her inside.

She walked to the centre of the room, then turned around to face Maximus, who had remained standing near the now closed door. He wore one of the tunics she had given him, a white cotton one, and nothing else. It seemed evident he was getting ready to go to bed and she wondered if he would strip completely before sliding between the sheets… Mentally kicking herself, Lucilla said, "Can you come closer? I wish you to read these two scrolls."

Maximus walked to her in a way that was guarded and relaxed at the same time, looking commanding and noble even when being almost naked.

"What are they?" He enquired, once in front of her.

"Read for yourself. This first," and she handed him the thickest scroll. Maximus unrolled it and Lucilla watched anxiously as he read the diploma sanctioning his freedom. She saw his eyes widen and his mouth open slightly, as his breath seemed to quicken. So, after all, being free again was not as unimportant as he had claimed the last time they had met in that room…She smiled at herself.

"Do you really mean this?" Maximus murmured then, raising his eyes to look at her.

"Yes. And I will tell you more: I have already commissioned a bronze copy of that diploma. I am just sorry I cannot give you your freedom as Maximus Decimus Meridius, but only as the Spaniard, but I will do my best to have you name restored…"

"I was not referring to it. Here there is written you will give me 350.000 sestertii and that I will be free to leave whenever I want…"

"I meant that too. I wish nothing more than to help you Maximus, but if you don’t trust me that much, then allow me to help you to build a new life for yourself." Lucilla’s voice trembled with barely contained emotions, as she prayed to the gods that Maximus’ next words would not be the announcement of his imminent departure.

He looked briefly away, then rolled up his diploma and he tilted his chin to indicate the scroll in her had. "What is written in there?"

"It is a letter from Senator Gracchus, the Senate decanus. He is the man I told you about. I am trying to arrange a meeting with him since he too is here in Baia for few days of vacation."

"Why?"

"I told you that too, Maximus. I want to help you to get your revenge."

Maximus took a step forward. "Do you realize what are you saying, Lucilla? I want to kill your brother." His eyes bore into hers, leaving her no way to escape his questioning gaze.

"I am aware of it, Maximus. More than you can imagine." She sighed and, seeing his confused expression, explained. "A few months ago, Senator Gracchus and I discussed the situation regarding Commodus and we both reached the conclusion he had to be eliminated- for the good of Rome and Lucius’ safety." She closed her eyes, acutely aware of what she had just said. She wanted to kill her brother to keep her son safe- could there be a more terrible choice for a woman?

Lucilla blinked, and found Maximus still staring at her. But something had changed in him.

His gaze was gentler, and his face had softened, the lines around his eyes and mouth less deep. He even seemed younger than a few minutes before.

"You risk very much by associating with me. You know what Commodus will do to us – to your son – if we are discovered?"

"I know. But I cannot act differently. I have much to pay for. For what I did not do in Germania, and… for what I did to you twelve years ago."

Maximus’ eyes turned almost liquid as he murmured. "You have nothing to pay for. You were just a child back then, and what you do now is because you love your son. You are strong for him."

"I am tired of being strong." Lucilla whispered back, "My brother hates all the world and you were the first on his list."

"Because your father chose me."

Lucilla did not know exactly what he meant, but she shook her head. "No, because my father loved you ... and because I loved you."

"A long time ago." Maximus took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it tenderly and causing her to shiver at the feel of his soft beard against her skin.

"Was I very different then?" Lucilla asked, thinking back to those days that she still remembered as her happiest ever.

Maximus smiled slightly, caressing her cheek with his index finger. "You laughed more."

Lucilla stared mesmerized at his eyes, at the softness and fondness she could see in them. What an amazing change from the cold man of the previous days…Perhaps…perhaps there was still hope…

"I have felt alone all my life…except with you." She confessed, baring her heart to him, offering herself to him, risking everything in that wild gamble. He could have shattered her with a mere word or look, but it was not so. Maximus breathed deeply, then stepped even closer, so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body.

They looked deeply into each other’s eyes and without knowing who moved first, their lips met in a kiss that was tender and passionate at the same time. A kiss of forgiveness. Of hope. A taste of what had been and could be again.

Lucilla took Maximus’ head in her hands, caressing his beard as for the first time in twelve years she savoured again the taste of his mouth. She felt overwhelmed by it, by the sheer sensations coursing through her. Heat. Cold. Strength. Weakness. Desire.

Lucilla sensed Maximus decrease his pressure and realized he was about to break their contact. She whimpered against his mouth and tried to restrain him, not wanting that kiss to ever end.

But it had to.

Maximus moved back from her as he observed her closely. His breath was hurried and his eyes shone with the never forgotten light she had seen twelve years before.

He wanted her too.

It was plain in sight.

Lucilla felt almost dizzy at that awareness and her eyes darted quickly, almost on their volition, to his bed. But when she returned to look at Maximus, it was to see him gently shake his head.

"It is not yet the time, Lucilla," he whispered, but she was not disappointed, because in his eyes she had read the promise that the time would come.

Soon.

§§§§§

Two days later Lucilla, Maximus, Lucius and several members of the household went to Baia to attend a summer festival- or so the spies Commodus probably had in town had to believe. Baia was not called "Pusilla Roma" for nothing. During the summer months it really was a "Little Rome" for many senators and knights owned villas in the area or along the coast, from Cumae to Neapolis. It was easy to surmise Falco, Commodus’ whoremaster, as Gracchus had once called him, would send his thugs there to control the situation.

But Lucilla and her party were ready for them.

While Maximus had dressed in a way that made him blend with her servants, Lucilla had donned a very gaudy red palla and roamed the crowned streets with Lucius at her side, so to be noticed by every one, and spent time talking with several local politicians.

When she thought it was enough, she claimed to be tired, called for her litter and climbed inside it, where one of her maids, similar to her in height and complexion was waiting hidden behind the curtains. The two women exchanged their clothes and as soon they were certain nobody was looking, Lucilla slipped out of the litter and mingled with the crowd, as her party returned to the villa.

With Maximus at her side, they negotiated the roads to Senator Gracchus’ place behaving like a couple of common people enjoying the festival, often stopping to admire the jugglers and the street actors as they moved toward their destination.

They waited till the sun began to set and Maximus was absolutely sure nobody was observing the place, then crossed the little square in front of the senator’s villa and knocked at the servants’ entrance.

Senator Gracchus himself came to open the door.

"Come inside, quickly." The white haired and bearded man ushered them in, threw an anxious look outside, then closed the door. As soon as the bolt slid in place he seemed to relax and he faced Lucilla.

"Forgive my manners, Lucilla, but I have been waiting for hours and I was getting nervous."

"I am sorry, my friend, but we needed to be sure nobody would notice us come here."

Lucilla’s use of the plural made Gracchus realize the man at her side was not one of her servants – for slaves were usually unnoticed and unconsidered in such occasions- but someone more important. The senator looked more closely at Maximus, trying to place him, then turned his puzzled gaze on Lucilla. "I am afraid I don’t know this gentleman, My Lady."

"You don’t know him in person, Senator, for he never came to Italy before. But I am sure you are more than familiar with his name, for it brought much glory to Rome. Let me introduce you General Maximus Decimus Meridius, my father’s Commander of the Armies of the North." Lucilla paused and smiled inwardly, seeing how Maximus shifted his weight, embarrassed by her comment, and by the obvious pride in her voice. In truth, she had always been proud of his accomplishments and career, which she had followed through the reports Marcus Aurelius had passed to her through the years. It had given her the illusion to be close to Maximus, although she still remembered how hard it had been to read he had married, and that it seemed to be a joining based on real affection and not on political considerations.

"But that was the past…" she said to herself, thinking back to the kiss they had exchanged two nights before, to how they had talked the previous day, sitting in the garden, and to the way he had held her hand that afternoon. He had been gentle, protective…and possessive. And it had filled her heart with joy. Shaking herself from her reverie, Lucilla completed the introduction. "Maximus, this is Senator Marcus Tullius Gracchus, one of my father’s best friends and the Senate decanus."

The two men shook hands.

"General," said Gracchus. "of course I have read a lot about you, especially from the late Caesar. But I thought you dead, killed in Germania".

"I am not, Senator, but I don’t think Commodus would be happy to know it." Maximus’ tone was sarcastic.

The other man nodded, then gestured with his hand. "Come, follow me. Let’s go into a room where we will be more comfortable. I have sent my entire household to the festival, so no one will hear us or see you."

They moved to Gracchus’ library, where they all sat around a table where someone had put a bowl of sweets and a pitcher of wine with some cups. The senator indicated them to his guests, and when they both refused, he turned to Lucilla and said. "So, my child, yesterday you wrote you wanted to inform me about something important."

"Not me, Gracchus. The General. He has something to say to both of us." She faced Maximus, who nodded once. There was a moment of silence, as he collected his thoughts, then he began.

"Do you remember the morning when we met in Germania, in the Praetorium, after I left your father’s tent?" He asked her.

"Of course."

"You enquired about he had wanted with me, but I did not reply."

"I remember this too."

"Well, I could not speak with you because Marcus had just told me a very important and stunning thing. Something I would have never imagined…He had asked me to become the Protector of Rome after his death."

"WHAT?!" Lucilla and Gracchus exclaimed in unison.

"Yes," Maximus confirmed softly. "Marcus said Commodus could not rule. That he had not to rule, because he was not a moral man. But I suppose he did not realize how degenerate his son really was, otherwise he would not have confronted him alone." He lowered his head to stare at his hands, resting atop the table, as Lucilla and Gracchus fell silent.

Her mind was working frantically, as several pieces of the mosaic fell into place and long past conversations took a different meaning.

Lucilla turned those lines in her mind time and again, then commented. "So that’s why you did not swear loyalty to Commodus. You knew he was not the real emperor…"

Maximus nodded. "Yes, I knew. Your father and I had signed a contract before I retired for the night. It was his intention to make it public the next morning, but he never had the time to do so. It is my opinion he called Commodus in his rooms to tell him in private, to somehow lessen the blow, but it did not go as he had planned…" He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "When I left the tent after refusing Commodus’ hand, I wanted to ask the advice of the senators present in the camp, but I was arrested before I could do it."

"I know about this," commented Gracchus, who had been silent for a while, intent on listening to the others’ words. "Senator Gaius was there, and he told me your arrest and execution had been very sudden and carried out in the middle of the night, so that your men could not rebel. We both thought something serious must have happened, but we could never imagined such a thing. Marcus Aurelius never gave any indication he did not wish his son to succeed him…he had even associated Commodus to the throne some years before his death."

"Marcus Aurelius loved his son," Maximus murmured, "and hoped till the end he would mature and change. He thought sharing the responsibilities of governing with him might help, but it did not work. So, when he felt death closing in, he decided to do what he believed best for Rome."

Lucilla nodded, her throat tight. She had always known Maximus had loved her father very much, but she had never guessed how deep their connection had really been.

"And now what do you plan to do?" enquired Gracchus, his voice business-like.

"I would like to overthrow Commodus. If I had the means to contact my army and the support of the Senate I could-"

"What?" Gracchus’ shout echoed in the room. "You want to lead an army in Rome? Nobody has done that in over one hundred years!"

"He is right Maximus- it would be very risky. And also, the legions all have new commanders, loyal to Commodus."

"When my men see me alive you shall see where their loyalties lie." Maximus commented with certainness.

"This is madness!" Gracchus stood up and paced back and forth, "I will not trade one dictatorship for another!"

Maximus remained sitting. "The time for half measures and talk is over, Senator. If you want to stop this reign of terror, you must act with decision. You know Commodus would never show mercy or weakness in your regards. You must do the same if you want to avoid him bringing the Empire to its downfall."

"And after your glorious coup, what then? You will take your warriors and leave?" Gracchus had stopped pacing, and was staring at him, very sceptic.

"I will leave, if you will order me to do so, but the soldiers will stay for your protection, under the command of the Senate."

"So, once all of Rome is yours, you will just give it back to the people. Tell me why?" Gracchus was now curious.

"Because that was the last wish of a dying man. I did not tell you everything, Senator. Marcus Aurelius wanted me to restore the republic. He wanted Rome to return to Her people. I want only to kill Commodus and avenge my emperor and my wife and son, who were killed by his order. Once it is done, I will leave the fate of Rome to you, in your capable hands."

Lucilla and Gracchus exchanged a long look, and she saw him silently ask for her counsel, as Maximus waited patiently. She nodded to him, and saw the old man take a deep breath.

In the end the senator moved closer to Maximus’ chair and said softly, "Marcus Aurelius trusted you. His daughter trusts you. I will trust you. The Senate will support your quest."

"Thank you." Maximus rose to his feet and the two men exchanged a long handshake. Trusting each other was a big leap of faith for both of them, but they were aware it was the only possible course if they wanted to accomplish what it was important for them.

Lucilla sighed in relief, but she knew it was going to be a short lived feeling, for now would come the time to decide how better act, and she had no doubt it was going to be difficult…Or was it not?

A strange smile had appeared on Gracchus’ usually stern visage and his eyes were shining in a peculiar way.

"What is it?" She enquired.

"Nothing my child…or better, everything…" The cryptic reply puzzled her even more and she looked confused as the politician walked to his desk at the other side of the room and took out a scroll from a little treasure chest.

He returned near the table and handed it to Maximus. "Read this, General. It is a letter from Senator Gaius; it arrived this morning. I believe you will find it most interesting."

He looked like a cat that has swallowed a little bird, and Lucilla rose to her feet to read the letter from behind Maximus’ shoulder.

Her eyes ran along the lines and widened in surprise. It was not possible!

Senator Gaius had written Commodus had asked for reinforcements in Germania and the Felix Legion III, which was currently stationed in Ostia, was scheduled to leave in six days. The Felix Legion III, Maximus’ own legion!

It seemed almost too good to be true.

Maximus turned to look at her and she saw his eyes were very bright. Their fingers intertwined almost without volition as he murmured. "This is a sign from the gods. It has to be."

"Yes, it is." Lucilla smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

Maximus cleared his throat, freed his fingers and returned in command of his emotions. "We have little time, we must act now. Tomorrow morning I will leave for Ostia."

"I will come with you and help you with the army…" Lucilla began, but Maximus emphatically shook his head.

"No. You must not come with me. I am confident everything will go well, but you must not be associated with me in any way."

"But-"

"There are no buts, Lucilla. You must think of your son. And you must go to Rome to prepare the ground should we be successful."

"He is right, my child," intervened Gracchus, putting a hand on her arm. "You must protect yourself and young Lucius."

Lucilla bit her lower lip. Of course she knew they were right, but she also wanted to help Maximus. She loved him as fiercely as she loved Lucius and her heart was torn between the two men in her life. But in the end she realized that while Maximus could care for himself, her son needed her protection. It was her duty to stay with him. So she nodded. "We will do as you suggest."

"I will also leave," added Gracchus, " and once we are back in the Urbs we might try to create some kind of diversion to distract Falco and his spies from what we are really going to do…. I already have some ideas…"

"Good." Maximus approved, before sighing and standing up. "It is best we leave. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Gracchus and Lucilla imitated him and moved to the corridor and then to the exit.

But before Maximus and Lucilla stepped out in the darkness, the three of them shared another handshake, somehow sealing their plans…and their future.

§§§§§

The moon, visible from the open window, was already high in the sky and Lucilla knew she should try to sleep for the next day would be frantic, but she neither could stop her pacing nor will herself to sleep. She was simply too nervous and not even the long time she had spent in front of the mirror brushing her hair had helped soothe her.

Maximus was leaving the next day.

Lucilla had just found him again and now he was leaving. And only the gods knew if he would ever return. So many things could go wrong and every one of them kept popping up in her mind.

Someone hostile to him could spot him in the Ostian camp before he could contact the officers who were loyal to him. Intercepting Commodus’ party in Germania could turn into a bloodbath if the legions stationed there decided to side with the emperor. Some senators may create difficulties in Rome…

Lucilla sighed and stopped near the window, looking outside, and thought again about what Maximus had said her two evenings ago.

Now she wondered if there would ever be time for them, just for Lucilla and Maximus, not for Marcus Aurelius’ daughter and his trusted general. A time when neither of them would have to put duty before their feelings. Before what they needed.

Someone knocked on her door and despite the late hour she did not hesitate to call, "Come in!"

Whatever the reason of the visit, perhaps it would help distract her from her grim thoughts. She turned around, somehow expecting to see her senior maid, for she had the tendency to mother her around, but it was not so.

Instead of the trusted old lady, Maximus was standing just inside the room, wearing a short sleeping tunic and carrying a cup in his hand. He was looking at her, at her linen-covered body with such intensity that Lucilla’s heart started pounding. What was he doing here?

"Lucilla…"

"Maximus…"

They spoke at the same time, stopped, and she gestured him to talk for first.

He looked briefly around the room, then said, "I am sorry if I am disturbing you, but I saw light coming from beneath the door and I decided to check if you were all right."

"I am; thank you for your concern."

Maximus nodded once. "Good. Now I will leave you." But in spite of his words he made no move to leave.

Lucilla’s heartbeat quickened even more.

"What do you have in that cup?" she asked, tilting her chin to indicate his hand, as she approached him.

"Wine. I am having trouble falling asleep and I thought it might help to relax me. I just picked it up in the kitchen."

"I see. Sleep is deserting me too tonight. Perhaps I should also try with the wine…" Lucilla murmured, coming to stop very close to him and staring at his eyes.

Without a word, Maximus offered her the cup and she took it, sipping the wine before handing it back to him. The liquid warmed her insides, but not as much as the sight of Maximus drinking from the cup, and making a deliberate show to put his lips where she had posed hers. He never stopped looking at her as he did so, nor did he when he licked his lips to remove any trace of wine.

The room became hot around Lucilla, as Maximus put the cup on a nearby table and then faced her again, turning around in that slow way she had seen him do in the arena. There was something feral and dangerous in the way he moved, and Lucilla felt again the thrill she had experienced in the Colosseum, when she had watched the Spaniard fight.

"I think the time has come, Lucilla," Maximus murmured, in a hoarse tone that was commanding and yet inviting, and that made her quiver and get moist. No other man had ever looked at her with such intensity and no other man she had ever wanted to stare at her with such lust written so clear in his eyes.

"Yes, it has…" Lucilla whispered back, her hands rising slowly to her shoulders to unfasten the brooches keeping her tunic in place. She wore nothing else beneath, and she heard him gasp as the fabric slide down, leaving her naked in front of him.

Any concern Lucilla might have had regarding how Maximus would judge her was blown away by the way he stared at her body. It seemed his eyes wanted to take everything in at the same time, darting quickly from her breasts to her womanhood, then back to her face, as a tell tale bulge appeared under his tunic, making her feel dizzy with the power she now knew she had over him.

Without a word, Lucilla covered the few steps separating them and let herself fall to her knees at Maximus’ feet. She took the hem of his tunic and stood up, sliding the fabric up his legs, thighs, his hips, his chest, letting the linen caress him, until he raised his arms above his head to help her to get rid of it.

Lucilla had never stopped to look at his eyes while she did so, but once he was naked, she let her gaze drop over his form and a silent, "Oh…" of wonder formed on her lips.

She had never imagined a man could look like him.

Broad shoulders. Sculpted arms. A wide chest. A flat abdomen covered by fine, golden hair. Narrow hips. Shapely legs. Strong thighs. And between them…the real treasure.

Lucilla had never thought an aroused manhood to be beautiful, but Maximus’ certainly was.

It was long, thick, arching and pointing toward her, its tip already moist with his desire.

"Do you like what you see, my lady?" Maximus murmured into her ear, his breath fanning her skin.

"Yes…" She reached out to caress him, enjoying how his breath caught in his throat at the first brush of her fingers against his hot, throbbing flesh. "You have quite a sword here, brave champion."

"Do you want me to show you how can I use it?" Maximus growled, his hand closing over hers as it slid along his shaft.

"Yes…show me…" Lucilla was intoxicated by Maximus’ voice, proximity, smell and by the promise she saw burning in his eyes.

Without warning, Maximus removed both their hands from his sex, bowed and swept her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed waiting on the other side of the room. His actions were so quick and so full of ardour that Lucilla fully expected to be thrown on the mattress and be ravished, but it was not so.

Maximus lowered her gently, cupping her nape with his hand, and stretched out at her side.

When she looked at him, surprised, he whispered, "I don’t want to play a game, Lucilla. Not now. I want this to be between you and I. A man and a woman loving each other; nothing more, nothing less."

"You- you love me?" Lucilla stammered. She had thought he cared for her, felt attracted by her…but love? After everything she had done to him, he still loved her?"

"Yes, I do. I think I never stopped loving you…" A smile. "I know that many a man wonders if it is possible to love two women at the same time…Well, I can answer them: yes, it is possible. At least for me."

Lucilla’s eyes filled with tears and turning on her side, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him to her bosom. "I love you too, Maximus. Always have. Always will." She breathed against his ear before her passion, fuelled by the awareness of their mutual love rose again.

Lucilla bit and then licked Maximus’ earlobe eliciting a deep groan from him. He pushed her back to lay on the mattress and covered her slender body with his big, warm one. Lucilla moaned at the sensation of his weight over her, of his skin sliding and rubbing against her own, of his hard muscles pressed against her softness. It had been years since she had experienced this kind of real contact with another person…An interaction where she was just Lucilla, daughter of Marcus, and not some kind of icon with a precise role she had to performe while expecting the others to respect it.

She had always been an emperor’s daughter; an emperor’s wife; an emperor’s sister and the mother of a potential new Caesar. Never before in her life she had felt just like a woman free to be truly herself as she now was, as she writhed beneath Maximus, prey to the indescribable feelings his passionate hands and mouth were awaking in her. Maximus’ touch was gentle yet demanding, hungry yet delicate. His lovemaking was as intense as everything about him, and she gave herself to him. Body, heart and soul.

Lucilla cried out when his lips closed around her pebble hard nipple, suckling and biting it, before trying to engulf as much of her breast as his hot, demanding mouth could take. She arched her back, offering herself even more openly to him and was rewarded when Maximus turned his attention to her other nipple, giving it the same, loving care of its twin.

"You are beautiful," he then murmured, rising up to ravish her mouth, his tongue invading and stabbing her as his hard manhood wanted to do, as he rubbed himself against her legs.

Lucilla felt dizzy with passion, and when he freed her lips, she bit hard on the spot where his strong neck joined his shoulder, causing Maximus to growl deep into his throat, before she soothed the reddened spot with her tongue, relishing the salty taste of his skin.

Maximus attacked her breasts again with his mouth, as his fingers started their journey of discovery down her body, caressing her belly, petting her nether curls, before insinuating between her thighs to touch her warm, sensitive flesh. The moistness welcoming him there seemed to fuel his ardour even more, pushing it beyond his limits. Maximus suddenly pushed her legs apart with his knees and nestled between them, his body tense, like an archer ready to release his bow. He raised his head, looking at her, and the need Lucilla read in his eyes made her understand he was about to succumb to his overwhelming passion- and yet, even at that crucial moment, he offered her the chance to back away, had she not been certain of what she felt or wanted. But that idea would never cross her mind in a thousand years. She needed him as if he were the air she breathed in.

And she needed him to need her.

Completely.

Forever.

"Take me, Maximus," Lucilla said, her voice clear and sure. "Make me yours."

"Yes…" He bent his head, kissed her again, then flexed his hips and entered her with a single, strong push.

Lucilla cried out, planting her fingers in his forearms and shifting her hips as she adjusted to the turgid flesh invading her. It had been so long for her, and her muscles rebelled against the intrusion, although her heart sang with joy.

She watched Maximus bite his lower lip as he struggled to control his need to thrust and give her the time to get used to him. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and slid along his temple, his chest heaved, his teeth gritted. At the sight of his unselfishness, Lucilla felt herself open like a flower, and wrapping her long legs around his waist, she gave him the permission to love her.

And love her he did.

Completely.

Deeply.

Totally.

Giving her all of himself.

Filling every empty place in her soul and heart.

Banishing away the loneliness that had always haunted her...

And doing it forever.

At dawn Lucilla watched as Maximus mounted a horse and rode away. She remained there, looking at him gallop along the lane leading to the main road. Looking at him depart from her life once more. She remained there in silence, tall, regal and proud, looking as his shape became smaller by the moment, blurred by the dust and the distance till he finally disappeared. And even when it happened, her eyes remained dry. But her throat was so tight she was barely able to breath.

"Please Father, watch over him." She prayed, "Bring him safe back to me. Now that I know what love is really about I could not bear to not hold him again."

Unbidden Lucilla’s memory returned to a few hours before… After their lovemaking Maximus had fallen asleep in her arms, but she had stayed awake, enveloped by the night and by love.

She had studied each detail of Maximus’ sleeping face, enjoying how the moonlight bathed his strong body and attractive face with its silver beams, and how, in his slumber, he had seemed younger than his thirty four years. So much so, she had felt the need to embrace him tighter and protect him from any danger.

She had remained awake all night and watched as the moon had disappeared and the sun had arisen, stretching its rosy fingers to caress both her and Maximus. He had woken up then and they had loved again, sweetly and impossibly tenderly, saying with their bodies the goodbye they could not express with their words.

After that Maximus had washed, dressed, eaten a piece of bread with cheese and left her.

"I will send you a message as soon as I can," had been his parting line. Then he had squeezed her hand a last time and exited the house.

Lucilla had run behind him, not caring she was dressed only in her nightgown, feeling the urge to call him back, to say something, no matter what to keep him near her a while longer. But then she had remembered who she was. And as Maximus was again, foremost, a soldier of Rome as he prepared to gallop to Ostia, so she was again, foremost, the daughter of the Emperor he had sworn to serve.

So she straightened her back and stayed in silence, keeping her torment closed inside herself.

Then, when Maximus was disappeared and the cloud of dust he had raised had settled again, she slowly turned around and returned inside the house, ready to do her duty and prepare to travel back to Rome.

§§§§§

Lucilla squinted her eyes, and pushed away some tendrils of her hair, but no matter what she did, her vision remained limited to just few feet in front of her. The heavy rain that had been falling since the early morning was like a wall, a wet curtain surrounding the small caravan. On any other occasion Lucilla would have ordered the drivers to stop at some inn along the way and wait there for the end of the downpour, but not that day.

She was too hard pressed to get closer to Rome, and even if the wagons could only advance at slow pace, for the mules’ hooves and the wheels had little grip on the slippery paved road, it was better that not moving at all.

Despite the inclement weather, Lucilla was not travelling inside her wagon, but sat outside, on the driver seat. If her choice had surprised her entourage, they had not shown it, and she had been grateful she did not have to explain to them how her anxiety was consuming her and how she felt like she was suffocating in the little confinement of the wagon. At least, sitting outside, she could feel the wind and the occasional drop of water of her face, and look at what she could see of the peaceful landscape surrounding her. Concentrating on the road ahead also helped her think, and there were so many things she had to ponder…So many things she would have to do or arrange once she was back in Rome. But while the wagon brought her closer to her destination, and to the moment the politician would have to take precedence over the woman in love, her thought rounded more and more around Maximus.

Had he done it? Had he taken control of his legion?

Four days had elapsed since he had ridden away and she had yet to receive the message he had promised to send her.

Was it a good sign? Was it a bad one? Should she send someone to check the situation at the camp they would be closer to Ostia? Could she dare to do it? Or was she worrying for nothing? Perhaps the messenger had simply missed them or had stopped in some inn along the Appian Road waiting for the rain to decrease.

Lucilla desperately wanted to know, but she could not risk putting Maximus in danger or raise suspicions…She looked skyward, asking for guidance from the gods and in that precise moment, as if it was an heavenly sign, the wall of water in front of her opened, and she saw a rider come in their direction.

He seemed to be covered from head to foot with a dark cape, and was galloping as if pursued by the Furies, not on the paved road, but in the fields running along it, so that his horse could have more balance.

For a long, heart stopping moment Lucilla thought it could be Maximus, fleeing away because his plan had failed, but as the rider approached, she noticed that even with his cloak on, he was too small to be her lover.

When he arrived at few feet from the wagon, the man reined his horse to walk, lead it on the road, and flanked the chief of her escort, exchanging few words with him. The guard pointed in her direction and the newcomer nodded, before riding to her.

Lucilla order the halt and waited till the stranger was at her side. It was a man in his early thirties, with shoulder-long hair, wet despite the cape he wore, and the face marred by several scars- a face she had already seen…but where?

"My Lady Lucilla?"

She nodded.

"I am Cicero, General Maximus’ freedman and manservant in the army."

Lucilla’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, "How…" He voice failed her.

"My master sent me to give this to you."

Cicero searched in a leather bag tied to the saddle and gave her a small scroll.

Lucilla opened it with trembling fingers and read:

Lucilla put down the note and, for the first time in four days, she smiled. A blinding, tear-filled smile that seemed to brighten the day- or so Cicero thought as he grinned in return.

"Thank you, soldier." She told him, her voice as strong as it had been weak just few minutes before.

"You are welcome, My Lady. Do you have any message you wish me to bring to the general? I must leave soon if I want to catch up with the legion."

"Oh yes. Of course…"

Lucilla clapped her hand and her maid’s head appeared from inside the wagon.

"My lady?"

"Give me a wax tablet- quickly!"

The woman obeyed and Lucilla immersed herself in writing.

When Cicero galloped away, a few minutes later he carried with him a message that said:

EPILOGUE – Three Months Later

Night had just fallen over Rome, and the large Palace on the Palatine Hill was silent, its occupants already asleep after another day spent in frantic activities. There had been so many things to do in order to prepare the enormous building to receive its new master.

Rooms had to be cleaned and aired. The fences and trees in the garden had to trimmed. Commodus’ statues had to be removed. Draperies bearing the Eagle of Rome had to hung on columns and walls. The large winter triclinium had to be readied for the greatest banquet it would have hosted in years. Food had to be delivered and prepared.

In the end, everything had been done in time, and now the Palace was getting a few hours of well-deserved rest before being thrown again in confusion the following day.

But not everyone was sleeping.

Alone in her bedroom, Lucilla was sitting in front of her toilette table, brushing her long, honey-blond curls with slow, methodical strokes.

She was tired from all the organizing and supervisory jobs she’d had to do in the last days, and from the worries she’d had as her constant companions for the past three months, but still she was too excited to sleep.

Maximus would come home the next day and, gods be willing, nobody would ever separate them again. And he would not return as a private citizen, as he had once said to Gracchus, but as the Protector of Rome her father had wished him to be.

It had been the Senate to decree it, forty days before, when an urgent meeting had been summoned after a messenger had brought the news Commodus had been killed. Not in a battle against the Germans, but executed as his own father’s murderer, and for being a traitor of Rome.

The author of the message and of Commodus’ demise, had been General Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North under Marcus Aurelius, reputed dead by many, but now again in control of the fifteen legions spread from Dacia, to Pannonia, to Germania, to Belgica.

The Senate had trembled upon hearing the news and prepared to hand the imperial crown to the General, in the attempt to avoid a civil war that might have ruined an Empire already prostrate by Commodus’ negligent administration.

But to the assembly’s utter stupor, the General had also sent word he was ready to renounce to all his power at the Senate’s command. He would retire to private life in his lands in Hispania and they would not hear his name again.

Lucilla had attended all the meetings following the dispatches’ arrival. And witnessed how, to her amazement, considering how he had reacted in Baia, Senator Gracchus and his party had convinced the rest of the Senate to confirm Maximus’ powers and to appoint him as Protector of Rome, as per Marcus Aurelius’ will.

Lucilla had given her approval and support to that course of action, but when they had been alone, she had asked Gracchus why he had changed his mind. He had explained to her that Maximus had proved to be a loyal, honourable man, and a strong, respected leader- just what was needed to avoid some legion commanders who could rebel or certain senators who might get strange ideas in their minds.

She could not have but agreed with his reasons, although she had doubted Maximus would be happy about it. But she had been sure he would accept it for the good of Rome and had vowed to help him in every way she could.

As predicted, Maximus had accepted the new office and after a month spent campaigning in Germania, defeating the tribes several times and reorganizing the defences along the border, he marched back to Italia. He and the Felix Legions III and VII would make their triumphal entry into Rome the next day and Lucilla could not help but wish time would pass faster. She longed so much to see him again, to kiss him again…

At the mere thought of being in Maximus’ arms, she grinned like an excited child at her mirror reflection, but then sobered.

"It is better you calm down," an inner voice whispered to her.

"Tomorrow will be a long day, full of official encounters and public celebrations. It will be highly improbable you and Maximus may find time to be together in private during the day. As for the night…"

Lucilla sighed. The celebration banquet would go on for hours, and all the eyes would be pointed on Maximus and on her too, and she knew it would not be prudent to make their relationship public. At least, not so soon.

Still brushing her hair, she sighed a second time. It would be better if she resigned herself to sleep alone for some time more.

Suddenly the silence of the room was broken by a noise, but it was so low she was not able to place it. Lucilla looked around, trying to understand what it had been and when it was not repeated, she dismissed it as a trick of her tired mind. Perhaps she should really try to sleep, after all.

She put down the brush and stood up and made a step toward her bed when she heard the noise again. Louder. It came from the door leading to the hidden passageway the slaves used to move around without being noticed as they carried out their chores. Somebody was knocking on it.

A little more than surprised, but also very curious, Lucilla walked to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It’s me, My Lady. Diadumenian."

She frowned. What did her secretary want at such late hour? She wondered as she unbolted the door.

"What-?" Lucilla never came to complete the line.

Diadumenian was not alone.

There was another man at his side.

Maximus.

Lucilla stared incredulous as he thanked Diadumenian for his help and stepped inside her room, while her secretary saluted her with a bow and retreated along the corridor.

Maximus closed the door, then walked in front of her.

He was dressed very simply, with a tunic befitting more a servant than Rome’s master, and dark brown cloak thrown over his broad shoulders. He looked well, fit and tanned, and Lucilla felt her knees shake at his proximity.

He was back.

Swallowing hard and regaining a bit of her composure, she whispered. "Maximus…how can you be here?"

He smiled at her. "This morning, after we raised the camp outside the walls, I sent one of my men here with a message for Diadumenian. I asked him to meet me near the gates at sunset. I smuggled inside together with the merchants carts coming from outside Rome."

"Diadumenian has known all the day you were going to here this evening and did not tell me anything?" Lucilla was a bit hurt her secretary had not informed of such a news.

"I told him to keep silent," Maximus replied, stepping closer to her. "I was not completely sure I would be able to be here, and I did not want to give you false hope." His eyes darkened. "It is so good to be with you again. I could not bear to spend this night at the camp, knowing you were so near and yet so distant." His hand rose to caress her cheek and Lucilla trapped his calloused fingers against her skin with her own hand. Maximus smiled again. "I can stay only few hours, for I will return to the camp at dawn. But at least we will be able to be together and alone for a while, something I am not sure will be possible tomorrow." He dropped his hand and looked at her in a strange way…as if he was afraid she might not like the idea.

And in that moment Lucilla understood how much this strong, noble man, this skilled, formidable warrior needed someone to love and to be loved by in return. How he too had been alone for most of his life even if, like her, he had been surrounded by people: an army for him, a court for her.

Lucilla smiled brightly at Maximus vowing to herself neither of them would ever be alone again, and threw herself in his arms, raining his face with kisses to show him, with absolute evidence, how happy she was to see him again.

Maximus laughed softly at her enthusiasm, then cupped her face in his broad palms and raised it so they could look into each other’s eyes as he bent his head and he kissed her. Deeply and passionately, putting in it all of his love.

Then Maximus bent, swept Lucilla up in his arms and, as she hugged his neck and kissed his jaws, walked to her bed, not wanting to waste a single moment of that night.

THE END