The Spaniard
by
Ilaria and Stephanie
from an idea by
Giusy, Ilaria and Stephanie
Prologue
"That's five thousand for an old friend."
Maximus Decimus Meridas had just been sold.
The former commander of the Northern legions didn't bat an eye, giving no indication that he had even understood the garbled Latin of the two Africans concluding their business nearby.
It didn't matter anyway.
Nothing did anymore.
Maximus had lost track of how many days had passed since his life- the life that he had known and loved- had ended. It seemed so impossible that the sun continued to rise and set in a world without his wife and son, that he didn't bother to keep count of its journeys across the sky.
One night, he had gone to bed as the master of everything he saw. He had been asked by Caesar himself- Marcus Aurelius- to accept his offer as a successor to the empeorship of Rome, but when he awoke, the Emperor was dead. Maximus had been branded a criminal by the emperor's son and would-be heir. The General's family had been executed, sentenced for a treason that he barely had time to contemplate, much less commit. He had found their bodies, crucified and burned after a long and desperate ride to Spain. Collapsing at their feet, he ignored his hunger, his thirst, and his pain, certain that he would die as well, certain that he should.
But Fate had other plans in store. Maximus had been captured by slavers, bundled across the Straight of Gibralter in a leaky boat, and brought to Zucchabar. Now he was squatting in a slave-market. Starving, nearly naked, and burning in the sun.
It was a far cry from Germania.
Whatever the man who had purchased him had in mind. He doubted that it would shock him.
*****
"But, have any of them ever worked on a farm?"
Maximus's eyes drifted open from his nap as he once again heard voices nearby. Still chained to a sturdy pole, he had spent the long, sweltering afternoon drifting in and out of consciousness. The sun was finally beginning to set and, as cooler air blew in from the desert, the citizens of the little town were once again filtering into the streets to conclude their evening's business before settling in for cena and bed.
"Farmers? Yes, of course. They can all farm....this one for example.."
Maximus watched as the salesman pointed at a dark-skinned man the general distinctly remembered being touted as a salt-mine worker from Carthage. "He was foreman of a farm for two seasons...the farm was sold and so they sent him on to me..."
"A foreman?"
Maximus squinted into the still-bright light and sized-up the speaker. His Latin was far more precise than the African. He had the closely cropped hair and short tunic of a European Roman, maybe a former soldier a centurion, the general decided at last. Perhaps he was one of the men that Antonius Pious had gifted with land in the provinces at the end of their 17 year service. Then again, Maximus noticed the loose folds of skin around the man's light eyes, and the deeply streaked silver of his hair and beard, perhaps it was even Hadrian.
"Well, perhaps not a foreman." the salesman seemed to back away from the lie. "But he was on a farm."
"How about this one?" Maximus was conscious of the old man' stare resting on his form.
The trader jerked his chin at the Spaniard, annoyed. It was clear that this one was in worse shape than the Numidian- the buyer was looking for a bargain. "This one? I don't really know. He's part of my new stock."
"Where did he come from?"
"Hispania.....from the countryside." the trader added grudgingly.
The old man scowled, and then seemed to notice Maximus staring at him.
"Well? Are you a farmer?" He asked, impatiently.
Maximus swallowed, surprised by the question, then he slowly nodded his head.
"What did you farm?"
"Wheat." After so many weeks of disuse, the general's voice was scratchy and raw.
"Wheat?" The man arched an eyebrow, and then he looked away. "Yes, well.in Hispania, eh? I guess that would be right." He seemed to think for a moment, then seemed to weigh his money bag in his hand before turning back to the trader. "How much do you want for him?"
"A thousand." The man said boldly.
The amount reminded Maximus that he had already been sold once that day. He wondered how the first man would react to the change.
The purchaser blinked, and then countered. "Two hundred."
"Two hundred? I tell you what. How about I give him to you, okay? My wife and children will be starving already on the amount that you are willing to pay.."
"Three hundred then." The man said with exasperation.
The salesman stopped speaking and considered the figure.
"Three fifty."
"Done."
1
Maximus woke up with the distinct sensation of someone looking at him. He sat up on the straw-filled mattress that he was lying on, and slowly opened eyes, blinking at the sudden light when a nearby window was thrown open. His vision slowly adjusted, and he found himself staring to the old man he had seen in the market. The man who had purchased him. His master.
The words sounded so strange in his mind...
The man was sitting on a chair near the general's bedside, and continued to watch his purchase in silence, giving Maximus the chance to study him better. He had not been mistaken about the man age, he was truly ancient, but it seemed that he was not a former soldier after all. He was wearing a tunica and a white toga, the thin purple line of the ordo equestor clearly visible on the well-worn fabric.
Finally the man spoke, "What's your name?"
The general hesitated, not knowing what to do, to reply with the truth or lie. He opted for the first choice, "Maximus".
The man nodded, "I am Marius Tullius Tirones."
"Sir," the former general replied, the word born from his instinctive respect for an older person, inwardly wondering why the name sounded familiar.
"I own a farm and I bought you to work my land. I am not a hard man and if you work well you will be treated well, with plenty of food and rest."
Maximus nodded.
The man stepped forward and squinted at the fading scar on his shoulder. "Good. Your arm has improved a lot in the last three days and I think you will soon able to begin your chores." Marius tilted his head and continued to stare at the wound, as if to reevaluate whether his statement was correct. His eyes lingered on the SPQR tattoo and he asked, "Are you a deserter?"
Maximus did not reply, knowing that answering *no* might lead to other, more painful questions.
His master shook his head and took a step back toward the door, "It isn't really important. I won't judge you, I know that war can be hell....my poor son told me that many times...." his voice stopped and he turned his head away, recomposing himself before adding, "I won't judge you for what you have done in the past, Maximus, but for what do here on this farm." And with that he turned and left the little room.
Another, equally aged man took his place, but his simple clothes marked him as a servant. He had a basin of steaming water in his hand and he sat it down beside the cot.
"Good morning" he said, a smile on his face, "This is the first time in three days I have seen you awake."
Maximus nodded.
"So, what is your name?
I am Sulpicius.""Maximus."
"Well Maximus, welcome." Sulpicius smiled again and then began to tend the general's wound, washing it carefully and smearing it with healing salve, "Did you speak with the master?" he asked as he worked.
Maximus nodded again.
"Well, you are lucky. You could not have found a better owner in the whole province, and it seems to me that he must have a special soft spot for you."
Maximus' eyes widened in alarm and Sulpicius laughed, "Not in THAT way!! You remind him of his son...He was a soldier like you but it was killed in Germania, many years ago. You look very much like an older version of him."
Maximus' memory returned in a flash. Marius Tullius Tirones. Now he knew why the name had seemed familiar...He had written a letter to the old man years before, telling him his son, Marius Iunior had been killed in an ambush. Maximus closed his eyes: so much grief and death...and only to leave the Empire in the hands of a madman like Commodus...
Sulpicius saw his gesture but he did not realize that the other man's pain was due to his soul. He thought that he had been clumsy with his ministrations and so he returned to complete his task with even more gentleness.
*****
Maximus took a deep breath as he followed Sulpicius into Marius' cotton fields. It had been so long since he had smelled the perfume of tilled earth untainted by the stench of fire and death that he wanted to savor the sensation.
"Over there." the old servant gestured toward a group of men who were sitting beneath a shady tree munching fruit and bread. "These are the men you will work with. I will introduce you."
"Joab!" He called, and in the center of the group, an olive skinned man with a shaggy brown beard looked up. "Joab is the foreman." Sulpicius explained. "He will tell you what to do."
Maximus nodded. "Where are the others?" In the flat terrain, he could see that Marius' lands stretched on for many acres. Surely this band of only a dozen or less men could never tend them all.
"They are...presently...all that we have working." Sulpicius seemed nervous as he answered the question. "Some of the fields are lying fallow this season."
Maximus frowned, but did not say any more.
"Here you are." Sulpicius said as they finally entered the cool shadow of the tree. "Joab, this is Maximus."
The man gave him a grin. "I see you've got your beauty sleep."
Maximus could not help but smile. "Yes." He answered sheepishly. "Where do you want me to start?"
His eagerness brought a murmur of bemusement from the other workers, and they abandoned their little lunches to step forward and look at the new worker. As they did so, the Spaniard noticed that several of them wore the red caps of freed slaves. "No starting yet..." Joab said, winking at Sulpicius, who bowed and then drifted silently away. "First we have to break you in." And, when Maximus' eyes once more widened in alarm, they broke into peals of laughter again.
2
Maximus had grown so accustomed to loneliness and pain over the past dreadful weeks, that he barely recognized the feeling of contentment as he followed Joab and the others back toward the main house at night. A part of him felt guilty for experiencing something other than anguish- but another part was excited to once more to feel the satisfaction of muscles wearied from a job well done, and the warmth of male camaraderie. Though rough and physically imposing, the fieldworkers were as gentle as Marius and Sulpicius. If they didn't work quite as hard as they could, it was compensated by their loyalty to their employer. A sense of distance and distrust of their new acquaintance had lasted only a few hours under the unrelenting African sun...then the stories had started to pour out of the men as they worked- stories about Marius, Marius Iunior, the farm....
Maximus felt his heart constrict as the men speculated on the financial condition of the little enterprise. Although he barely knew the man, the General had been singularly impressed by Marius' kindness. It pained him to hear that, after spending most of his money to secure a high army commission for his eldest son- in the hopes that spoils of war, and a resultant political career could replenish the family's fortunes, the boy had died, taking with him the family's chance at prosperity. The boy's mother had also expired shortly after receiving the news of her son's passing. Now, only Marius Senior and his daughter remained in the house. The terrible run of bad luck had not ended in the deaths of their family members. A drought had ruined two years worth of crops and, their savings spent on Marius Iunior's career, they had not had enough money to weather the bad times unscathed.
A lack of money had forced them to plant fewer crops. Fewer crops had meant less income. Less income had meant an even smaller sum to reinvest. The vicious cycle had repeated itself for nearly four years now, so that Marius was forced to begin selling off his possessions. The furniture had gone first, then, with much lamenting, as large a portion of the farmland as he could bear to part with. After the land, he had, reluctantly, sold a few of the slaves. All that remained of the staff now were the dearest few, (freed ostensibly because Marius had no other way to repay their long years of dedicated service. Maximus suspected, however, that the true reason was that Marius feared who they might be sold to if his farm fell into the hands of his creditors), and, of course, Maximus- purchased when it became clear that the remaining workers were too old and feeble to properly tend the land.
Arriving at last at the main house, the men parted ways. The free workers collected their wages from Sulpicius and started home. Maximus bid them farewell, and then followed the elderly servant into the house.
"Dinner is in the kitchen." he said quietly.
Maximus nodded, then blinked with surprise as they entered the room. Marius was already seated at the wooden table, along with a plump, silver-haired woman that (in light of his knowledge of Lady Tirona's death) the general assumed to be Sulpicius's wife. Marius gestured for the slave to be seated, and he did so, trying hard to wipe the look of wonderment from his face. Maximus had once fancied himself to be a kind-hearted master, but his family had never EATEN with the slaves...
Marius bowed his head and whispered a prayer to the household lares. Then, he broke off a piece of meat and bread from the tray on the table and carried it to another room where, Maximus assumed, he offered it to the family shrine. Only after he returned did the meal commence.
"Here, tata, I found it."
An almost musical voice drifted from the doorway, and Maximus turned instinctively toward the sound ...and then he saw her.
Tullia.
It could be no one else. The men in the fields had described her to Maximus as a lovely, sweet girl, and that was how he had pictured her- as a LITTLE GIRL...but he had forgotten that the men had known her all their lives. They did not see what she had become: a woman, fully grown, and almost achingly beautiful.
Maximus reminded himself to take a breath as his eyes drifted over her form. She was of only medium height, reaching perhaps to his shoulder if they had stood directly apart. Her skin was a golden hue- naturally pale, but bronzed as it had warmed under the sun. Her hair was a deep, brown, spun through with an occasional strand of blonde. Only her eyes seemed untinged by the harsh rays that filtered through the cloudless sky. They were a cool, seafoam green that resonated with an intelligence and elegance in stark contrast to the girl’s threadbare surroundings.
"Ah, the wine."
The voice of his master drew Maximus' eyes away from the girl.
"Yes. You were right, it was hidden behind some of mama's things..."
The girl handed a small amphorae to her father and then took a seat at his right. Maximus felt his skin burn under her scrutiny as the icy eyes flicked across his face' and then fought a sense of disappointment as her attention quickly moved away.
*****
During the simple but satisfying meal, Maximus felt Tullia's eyes on him more than once, but every time he tried to look at her she lowered her head with embarassment. In the end Maximus stopped...Tullia was simply curious about him ...and he did not like this sudden interest for the young woman...it felt somehow wrong to react with male curiousity when his beloved wife, Selene, was barely cold in her grave.
When the dinner was finished and Sulpicius' wife and Tullia had carried away the dishes, Marius turned his head to his slave and said, "Joab says you are a hard worker, Maximus...that you seems to like what you do."
"That is true, Sir." Maximus bowed his head.
The older man smiled and said, "Well, I am pleased. Sulpicius will take you to your room now. I will see you tomorrow."
"Yes, Sir." Maximus stood up and looked as Marius walked away. His chest constricted a bit when he saw how fragile the man looked...reminding the general very much of Marcus Aurelius. Maximus squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if everything and everyone for the rest of his life would remind him of the painful past.
"Are you coming?" Sulpicius touched him on the shoulder.
"Oh, sorry, I was.... thinking."
"I see...I was beginning to wonder if you took too much sun on your head today!"
Maximus smiled at the teasing and then followed the other man outside of the kitchen.
*****
In the following days Maximus' life assumed a pattern: he awoke just after dawn, ate his breakfast with Marius, Tullia, Sulpicius and his wife and then joined the employed workers in the fields. They worked all day, pausing a hour or so for lunch, and again when the sun was at its hottest for a brief siesta. In the evening he was allowed to bathe in a small pond before eating dinner and retiring to his small but clean room. He was not chained as he slept and even if the door was bolted from outside, he knew the wood was not very strong. Maximus was surprised by Marius' trust but perhaps he should not have been. He saw how the old man looked at him....Like his slave, Marius' thoughts always dwelled partly in the past. Maximus wished that he could tell his master what a brave soldier Marius Iunior had been and how well he had spoken of his family, but he could not- not without betraying his identity, and Maximus was not ready to confront with his past. For the time being he wanted to loose himself in his new 'job', hoping it would help him to heal his broken heart.
3
Almost a month had passed since Maximus' arrival at the farm when, while he was working in one of the fields nearer to the house, he saw a flash of blue in the corner of his eye. Curious, he straightened up and took a closer look. It was Tullia, running along the lane that led from the house, the stola that usually covered her hair was gone, and her hands were pressed against her chest. Maximus frowned and then turned to look to Joab, silently asking him what was going on.
The foreman shook his head sadly. "Today Gaius Marcianus Statius has been here to speak with the master. Marcianus is a rich man living near the coast, and he has quite a fancy for our Tullia....He has wanted to marry her for quite some time but the master always delays his answer because he can't stomach the man- But seeing the little one's reaction," saying this, he tilted his head to the direction that Tullia had disappeared, "makes me afraid that his pocketbook has finally gotten the better of his pride...The creditors are breathing down the master's neck and marrying Tullia to Marcianus is the only way to save the farm...." Joab, shook his head, patted Maximus on his shoulder and returned to work. Maximus imitated him but his mind and his heart remained with the distraught girl. Now he knew the reason behind Tullia's always saddened expression. He had often wondered why she appeared so melancholy. She had to marry a man she did not love. The situation was not uncommon -- and Maximus was certain that the girl would carry out her duty to her father -- but she still didn't have to be happy about the matter.
Maximus wondered briefly what it would be like to be married to someone you don't love...especially for a woman. He and Selene had married out of love but he knew their wedding had been an exception, not a rule.
With a sigh he pushed the thought away, and concentrated on the task at hand.
*****
Maximus spent the rest of the afternoon working in silence, but he couldn't help looking up from time to time to search for Tullia's shape on the horizon.
"She's gone to the lake." Joab said, catching the general's gaze. "She always goes there when she is upset."
Maximus flushed with embarassment at being caught, and stared into the ditch that he was digging. Joab said nothing, but the Spaniard could feel the older man's eyes linger on his fair skin. What must he think of me? Maximus thought, reminding himself that the foreman didn't know that his employee had once been a wealthy and powerful man. He was a common field hand now- a slave - daring to look so wistfully after the master's daughter. It was improper. It was illegal. Maximus reminded himself with more than a little surprise, and what's more, it was unfitting. He had Selene. It was enough for him- but he couldn't help wishing that Marius' daughter could have a bit of the happiness that he had known. Somehow, he didn't think that she would find it with Gaius.
Moving down the row that he was working, Maximus didn't see the woman return to the house, so he was relieved to find her at dinner as usual. Her face was puffy and drawn, and she spoke only to answer questions from her father. The general could sense that she was hurting and, in spite of self-admonitions, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and reassure her that things would be okay.
"Maximus, I'd like you to remain." Marius said, as the meal concluded, and Suplicus and his wife rose to retire to their bed.
"Yes, sir." The Spaniard answered quickly. "Is something wrong?"
"No." Marius said quickly. "I simply need to ask your help for tomorrow's journey."
"Journey, sir?"
"Yes, to-" Marius looked up, and the former soldier noticed that he was studying his daughter's reaction carefully. "-take Tullia on a visit. There is baggage to be loaded on the wagon, and I need the horses prepared for travel- I assume you know something of caring for horses from the army."
"Of course, I was-" Maximus bit back the revelation that he had served in the cavalry. "..around them often." He finished lamely. Gathering his composure, he started toward the front hall. "I'll begin tonight."
"Good."
*****
Maximus spent two hours after cena carrying boxes from the upstairs rooms. With no one to share the burdens, the work was backbreaking, but he found that he enjoyed it. Venturing upstairs into the *master* section of the house was a rare treat. He found himself more interested than he cared to admit in how the family lived. In a few short weeks, he had come to think of them as *his*. Though he was saddened by their sparse furnishings and threadbare carpets, he was fiercely proud of the tasteful arrangements of the rooms, of the cleanliness, and of the unabashed pride that seemed to permeate the once-grand dwelling.
"I think that I have them all." Maximus said, stepping into the tablinium, where Marius was scribbling dolefully through his accounts.
"Even Tullia's?"
Maximus smiled as he recalled the brief glimpse he had caught of her bedroom before her trunk had been pushed into the hall.
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
Maximus made a short bow, and then turned to go.
"Do you think that I am cruel?" Marius' voice stopped Maximus in his tracks.
"Cruel?" He echoed in near disbelief.
"To force her to marry against her will."
"No, sir. You are doing what you must to save the farm."
The answer had the opposite of the intended effect. Instead of cheering Marius, it only made his features go darker. "That's what she thinks as well, but this farm isn't my concern. I'm trying to save her, Maximus. When I am gone, what will she have? She has no brother or uncle to take her in. How long would she last here on her own, prey to all the trickesters and riffraff Zucchabar seems to breed?"
Maximus stared at his feet, aware that the man wasn't really expecting an answer.
"If only there were another way." Marius whispered dolefully. "If only there were another way."
4
The next morning a small caravan left the farm. It was comprised of a wagon driven by Sulpicius, which contained Marius, Tullia and her belongings, and a small escort on horseback made up of Maximus, Joab and another freedman called Secondus.
The swath of desert they had to cross to reach the coast was infamous for its maraunders, Joab told Maximus as he gave him a old sword to tie to his belt. The general nodded, worried about the strenght or, more correctly, the lack of strentgh of the escort and he felt irratation mount inside him. Gaius should have arranged better protection for his future wife. The thoughtlessness of the omission was irritating to the Spaniard. The more he knew of Tullia's future groom, the less he liked him.
*****
The small party traveled for almost five hours in amicable silence when a cloud of dust on the horizon attracted Maximus' attention. His back stiffened as his right hand flew automatically to the hilt of the sword. Joab saw the gesture and imitated it, indicating that Secondus should do the same.
As the cloud moved closer, the shapes of several riders became visible- including their arms which were brandishing unsheathed swords. Maximus swore under his breath. So, they were really maraunders. He had hoped the figures were merely a group of people in haste. The soldier inside him evaluated the situation, counting the criminals. They were nine of them against three, and Maximus doubted that Joab and Secondus were skilled enough with swords to defy the odds. He had noticed the ackward way they gripped the hilts. He would have to rely on his own prowess- but he had been in worst situations while fighthing in Germania.
Knowing that surprise could be a powerful ally he decided to charge the raiders. With a sudden movement that left the rest of the group frozen on the spot, he shouted a war cry and jabbed his heels into his horse's flanks, galloping forward against the enemy. Marius, Tullia, Sulpicius and the others looked with fascination as Maximus attacked the little band. Joab and Secondus wanted to help but fear kept them paralyzed....they were farmers not warriors, and they were painfully aware of it.
A hundred yards away Maximus was fighting like a man possessed, struggling to defend himself from multiple attackers, and slowly cutting the marauders down.
He did not know how long the fight went on but in the end he was the only one still sitting on his horse. He looked down to count the bodies and noticed with alarm they were only six....Where were the other three? Had they escaped? Maximus turned his horse around and cursed when he saw a commotion near the wagon...the marauders had captured something and were dragging it away....No, not something, someone, he realized- Tullia! With another fierce cry the general charged again, reaching the wagon just as one of the raiders began to sling the girl's limp figure over his saddle. He never completed his action because his head was cut away by Maximus' sword. The other two men tried to escape but it was too late and they quickly followed their companions' fate.
As they fell, Maximus lowered his sword and at last looked around. He was breathing hard but the rush of adrenaline in his blood made him unaware of his tiredness. Soon he noticed the stares of his companions, and he turned to look at them. Joab, Secondus and Sulpicius were shuffling their feet in embarassment at their inaction, while Marius, bent near his daughter body, was looking at her with tears on his face. The stricken look alarmed Maximus and he jumped off the horse, almost running to where Tullia lay. He knelt next to Marius and asked, "Is she hurt?"
"Just a little scratch on the leg," the girl's father replied, caressing her cheek. "I think she fainted because of the shock."
Maximus nodded mutely, wanting to touch the girl's neck to feel her pulse but knowing he could not do so. He felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked up his eyes meeting Marius'. The old man was crying as he whispered, "Thank you Maximus..I...I would die if something happened to Tullia. She is all I have left."
"You don't have to thank me, sir. I only did my duty." Maximus was uncomfortable with the old man's almost adoring gaze, but Marius did not relent.
"You do not want thanks, but you must have it. Since I have no words to express my gratitude, I will demostrate it with my actions...." and before Maximus could ask what he meant, Marius lightly slapped him on his cheek, recited a few words of archaic Latin, and then he smiled at the younger man's confused expression., "You are free now, Maximus."
"Sir...I...I.." the former general was speechless with surprise and in the end was only able to thank Marius. He then stood up, just in time to receive Joab's enthusiastic bear hug and Sulpicius' and Secundus' slaps on his back. The joyous atmosphere infected Maximus too and soon he began to grin, as realty sinked in his mind....He was a free man again! His happiness became almost perfect as Tullia slowly opened her eyes and then, aided by her father, rose to her feet.
Her pale green eyes locked with Maximus' and for the first time since he had known her, Tullia smiled.
The general's breath left him in a rush and he worked hard to control himself, lest he stared at her month agape. The woman had always looked beautiful to him but her smile made her even more wonderful, casting a new radiance upon her face and eyes. Maximus swallowed hard and then replied to the smile with one of his own.
Tullia approached him, "Thank you Maximus, you saved me."
Again, Maximus pushed the gratitude away. "It was my duty, my lady, and my pleasure. Seeing you on your feet it is my best reward."
Tullia lowered her head, blushing a bit at his words, and then shyly smiled again, before Marius' voice broke the spell, "Come inside the wagon, darling, we need to tend to your leg." The woman nodded and followed her father.
Maximus shook his head, conscious that the other servant's eyes were fixed to him. Composing himself, he cleared his voice and said, "Joab, Secondus, please help me to round up the maraunders' horses: they are fine animals and should fetch good money in the market."
The other two men nodded, following without discussion the man that from that moment forward would be their unspoken leader.
*****
The remainder of the journey proceeded without incident, and by sunset the little group arrived at Marcianus' villa. Maximus and the other servants began to unload the wagon as the dominus of the house came forward to greet Marius and Tullia. It was the first time Maximus saw Gaius and he disliked him instantly. There was something very cold and calculating in his eyes that the straightforward soldier did not trust. He also noticed that Tullia stiffened as the man possessively took her arm and his heart twisted in pain for the poor girl: now more than ever he was certain that she was destined for a unhappy marriage.
*****
Night had already fallen when Maximus and the others entered the house at last to be led to their rooms in the servants' quarters.
As he strolled through the arcade of the perystilium Maximus heard Marius' voice and turned his head to gave see with whom he was talking.
It was Gaius.
The men seemed to be arguing about something, but the General could not make out their words, and he did not have the opportunity to linger as the officious house steward herded the group out of sight.
5
Maximus had trouble sleeping in the unfamiliar bed. Although his quarters were more finely furnished than the little cubicle that he had at home, the hay and mint-filled mattress poked uncomfortably into his skin, so that sleep refused to come. Added to the physical discomforts were the upsetting details about Gaius that he had learned from the servants. Apparently, the house staff expected Tullia to be mistress of the villa in name only. Gaius wanted her for his pleasures, and as a broodmare for the sons he hoped to send to Rome- but the real mistress of the manor was Calliope, a Greek slave that the General had captured a glimpse of during dinner.
Calliope was so similar to Gaius in looks and expression that the Spaniard had originally mistaken her for the man’s sister. The haughty arrogance in her posture, and the way that she had addressed Marius and his daughter, spoke volumens about her position- or percieved position in the household. Later, in the servant’s quarters, he had overheard from gossip that the woman had passed her youth in a brothel, slowly working her way through the ranks of wealthy men until she had siezed upon Gaius and his fabulous villa on the coast. She had installed herself in the house like a queen returning to a castle- and the General would rather forget the rumors of how she had kept the man’s interest for so many years. The servants were unanimous in their opinion. Gaius might take Tullia as his wife, but Calliope would be the domina of the house.
The former soldier tried to force the thoughts away, but they were too upsetting. He could not rid himself of the picture of Tullia suffering under the Grecian’s displeaure or, worse, having her innocence stolen by forced participation in one of the *games* Gaius and his whore were rumored to play. The worries left him so agitated that Maximus had all but abandoned any hopes of dreaming that night- which made the sound of knocking coming from his door at midnight all the more confusing.
"Maximus?" A voice called softly. It took a moment to place the sound in his mind, but when he did, he sprang instantly to his feet and toward the door.
"Tullia!" He said in an anxious whisper. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to tell you ‘thank you’ again." The girl answered, slipping past him into the room. "And...to see...how you were doing. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes." Maximus lied, staring at her. Didn't she know what a terrible risk she was taking by being here? If she were found....Maximus forced his eyes not to look at the filmy nightgown that showed beneath the silken wrap twined around her shoulders.
"Good...I was worried that you might be injured from the battle."
Maximus shook his head.
"You were very brave." Tullia offered shyly.
Maximus smiled, revelling in the girlish wonder betrayed by her hushed voice, and then, catching her eyes for only an instant, he stopped himself. What was he doing? Twisting the girl's gratefulness, and her fear of the impending marriage, into making a fool of him!
"Tullia, you need to get back to your room. Your husband-"
"My husband can think whatever he wants." the girl answered with a defiance that startled the Spaniard. "Gods only know that he is certainly too busy to notice that I am missing...." She swallowed and her features became calmer. "Besides, he isn't my husband- yet." As she spoke the words, her eyes lingered in the General's own, and he sensed an odd sense of emphasis that he wouldn't permit himself to explore.
Tullia was getting married tomorrow. True, he had no love for the girl's intended groom, but he did appreciate the importance of her reputation. He had to get her to leave. Now.
"Nevertheless, it isn't proper." He continued, gently. "Besides, you might get me in trouble."
Those words, at least, had the desired affect. Tullia's features scrunched in concern, and she obediently turned toward the door. "I didn't think...." She began, apologetically.
"It's no matter, as long as no one sees you." Maximus reassured her. "Thank you for coming."
Tullia smiled. "I was glad to...I....I wanted to...not just because.." Maximus held his breath, waiting for her to finish the thought, but she did not. Instead, she simply slipped away.
Maximus watched the pale figure disappear down the hall and then, reluctantly returned to bed. "Not just because...." His imagination supplied a thousand possibilities as he slid beneath his sheets.
Maximus sighed.
Now sleep would be more elusive than ever.
Somewhere, very nearby, Maximus could hear the sea. The surf lapped rythmically against the shore, but he could sense that their frequency was growing faster, their force stronger as a distant storm made its way to the land.
"Maximus?"
Abruptly, Maximus sat up. That voice- it was Tullia's voice? But where was she? His eyes refused to focus on the sights around him. All he could see was the soft, swirling green of the sea....of Tullia's eyes.
"Help me, Maximus."
The general jerked his head to the side as Tullia's voice seemed to be coming from behind him, and then back to the other side as her voice called from another direction. "Save me. Maximus, please...."
Still sightless, he stumbled toward the sound. "Not just because..." the voice continued to echo through his head, so close to him that he could barely tell whether the words were being spoken by Tullia or coming from within his head.
"Save me...." She whispered. "Help me....Maximus...."
And suddenly, his vision cleared.
Tullia was standing before him in the sand, her pale skin and sea-foam tunica like a negative image of the sand and sea behind her. Her eyes were puffy as though she had been crying. "Maximus...." She whispered again, and he ran forward.
Maximus reached for Tullia, but his hand froze in mid-air. "I can't touch you." He whispered apologetically. "It isn't..."
"I want it..." Maximus could feel Tullia's warm breath on his neck as she spoke, his hands clenched helplessly at his side as she took a step forward, her pale limbs extended. "I want you to...I want you...."
With a groan of surrender, Maximus stepped forward, gathering Tullia into his arms and crushing his mouth against hers. He felt his muscles tremble at the sensation of their joined lips. The small, soft petals of her mouth moving gently against his own...the minty coolness of her breath and skin....
"No..." He whispered, dragging himself away. It wasn't right. Why, he could not remember, but he knew that this could not be.
"You are afriad." Tullia whispered neutrally. "Afraid of the past."
Maximus did not deny it. "And you?"
"The future..."
The exquisite eyes turned down toward the sand, the heavily finged lashes obscuring their color from his view, when Tullia looked up again her hands were at the shoulders of her tunica.
"Forget, Maximus...save me...save yourself...." whispering the words like a chant, she moved toward him again, stopping a few inches from his face and boldly meeting his eyes as she let the silk of her dress slither down her legs to the ground.
Maximus inhaled as sharply as if he had recieved a blow to the gut as the vivid beauty of his body struck him with almost palpable force. Tullia's face was like an angel, but her body begged for sin. Helplessly, he let his eyes drink in the form that he had imagined so often...the round, heavy breasts, tapered waist, and broad hips of a woman he longed to claim.....
"Save me..." Tullia whispered again, and Maximus released his breath in a shudder. How could he save her? And from what? She held all the power now. He was helpless in her spell.....
Seeming to sense her advantage, Tullia stepped forward, threading a golden arm around his shoulder as she nuzzled his neck. Although he did not allow himself to look down, Maximus could sense her closeness through the heat that radiated between their bodies.
"Tullia..." he moaned, still not permitting himself to touch. "What are you..?"
"Shhh...." She lay her hand agianst his lips, and then coaxed him to the ground.
Maximus felt his jaw twitch nervously as Tullia's hands went to the hem of his tunica. Her elegant hands moved posessively along his thighs, tracing the strong muscles she found there. She tortured him by moving slow, methodical circles from the outside to the inside of his legs, approaching, but never touching the place he wanted so desperately to feel her caress. Sighing with frustration, he arched his hips forward into her hands, but the action had the opposite of the desired affect. Rather than satisfy him, Tullia's hands moved away. She rocked forward into her own knees, positioning her body inches from his eyes, and then cupped her breasts in her hands, massaging the nipples into rubied points...she murmured contentedly under her breath, daring him to touch her,...
At last, Maximus relented, with a cry of frustration, he reached forward and draw Tullia into another overpowering kiss, running his finger along her spine as he tasted her. Finally drawing away, he lay back into the sand, and then pulled her forward atop him. Maximus pressed her against his flesh, making her feel the exquisite erection between his legs.
"I want you..." He growled.
"I know." Tullia answered coolly. "I've always known....."
Maximus opened his mouth to speak again, but he was silenced by a kiss. Tullia's cool tongue flicked along his teeth, and his grip on her body relaxed under her ministrations.
Tullia seemed finished with her teasing, her hands were working purposefully now, and they moved beneath the fabric of the tunica, pulling it over his head.
Maximus slid his arms beneath the woman's shoulders, and drew her tightly too him once more, this time savoring the sensation of flesh against flesh as the rounded contours of her body fit seamlessly into the hard planes of his own. The warmth of the sand on his back, and the coolness of Tullia agianst his chest was a thrilling contrast that sent a shiver of longing down his spine.
Seeming to sense his need, Tullia grew playful again, and rolled her hips tauntingly against the the evidence of his desire.
"How long has it been..." She breathed against his ear. "Since you have been with a woman....?"
Three years....Selene.....for a moment, he was reminded of why this was wrong, why he had to get away, but his resistance was brief. Tullia would not let him escape now that she had him so completely in her power. Her hands slipped inside the loincloth and circled his swollen manhood. "You've never been with me..."
"No, Tullia...I can't....not like this...."
He was desperate to convince himself, he wanted more, NEEDED more, and Tullia did too- not a frentic coupling like animals in a field....
"You won't let me love you..." Tullia whispered, as if sensing his thoughts. "I've tried, but you are so far away."
"We aren't the same." He insisted. "I am a slave...."
"You are Maximus Decimus Meridas, General of the Felix Legions, Commander of-"
It was a dream.
The realization was so sudden that it jarred Maximus from his slumber and he sat, utterly and miserably awake on the lumpy mattress.
It hadn't been real, any of it...Tullia had never kissed him, wanted him....
And he?
Maximus sighed, his almost painful arousal was evidence enough of how he felt.
Tullia...there were so many reasons why he should avoid her in every possible way....why couldn't he listen to any of them? He wasn't over Selene. Tullia was getting married. She was a noblewoman...But every rationale rang hollow. Something was drawing them together.
Maximus was suddenly certain of it.