One Moment in Time Part Two

Echoes in Eternity
One Moment in Time - Part Two

by

Reagan Kavanagh

This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned. No copyright infringement on the original work is intended. ©Reagan Kavanagh 2006.

Author's Notes: This mini arc moves between flashback and current time (i.e., ‘current’ in this instance being 186 AD), with a final projection forward to circa 205 AD. Your indulgence in following the rapid time shifts and transitions is appreciated. If you find yourself wondering about the relationship between Cassandra and Lucilla, take a look at the two-part story that went up last year, Revelations, Parts One and Tw o. They are the fifth and sixth stories listed on the CHRONOLOGY page. Some of you may remember the Whitney Houston song, One Moment in Time; others of you may never have heard it. It's a clickable link like those above for Revelations One and Two, if you'd like to hear it. Thanks! RK

Rome – 186 anno Domini

MAXIMUS
I had met Cassandra six weeks past, on the day she first visited me in the holding cells beneath the arena. Soon thereafter, Proximo moved me from that area to his lyceum along with the rest of his gladiators; as a lanistae, he feared reprisal from the owners of those men his troop had defeated in the ring. He worried not only for my safety but for all his troop; those wishing him misfortune could as easily kill Hakken or another of our group as me, and he did not wish to lose any of us. His investment in us was far too great to risk our safety by leaving us in an area open and unprotected from any passers-by.

On this day, I awaited her arrival in the small house Proximo had given to us. She seemed distracted when she arrived. After taking her cloak, I lead her to a chair and bade her sit.

“Are you unwell? You seem not yourself today.” She looked up at me as I sat, and I noted that her eyes looked momentarily blank before she seemed to give her self a shake, and her attention returned.

“What? I’m sorry …I’ve been a bit distracted the past few days.”

“I asked if you were unwell. Has the heat made you overtired?” One hand came out to stroke my face, and I turned my head to kiss her palm. She shook her head in negation as I looked back at her.

“I’m not unwell …in fact, I’ve never been better, though the heat is burdensome when wearing this cloak.” Her response eased my concern regarding her health. It was high summer and the heat outdoors difficult to bear from meridianus until pomeridianus. Whilst it was hot indoors, at least we were spared the direct blast of the sun. I rose and brought cups to the table, pouring water from the pitcher already there and handed her a cup. She drank thirstily, then put the cup down suddenly as she clapt her hand over her mouth and ran to the door. I followed her in alarm and found her retching onto the ground, knelt beside her, and put one arm round her waist to support her. When she had finished, I helped her into the house, turning her toward the bed and made her lay upon it whilst I got a damp cloth for her face.

“Cassandra, what is wrong …tell me now!” I was now desperately fearful for her, as the yearly epidemic of cholera had broken out in the poorer areas of the city. It was possible one of her servants had contracted the disease, passing it on to her. She sighed and pushed herself to an upright position before answering.

“Maximus, it is nothing. Several of the servants have been ill these last few days, and I must have caught something from one of them.” She noted the look of alarm on my face and smiled, again pressing her hand to my cheek. “There is no fever, Maximus, nor any loosening of the bowels, merely a slight indisposition that passes within hours or a day. You need not fear for me, Caro; I am quite well. The indisposition will pass.” I could do naught but fear for her, as I had little doubt she had tended to her servants’ needs herself rather than sending for a physician to care for them.

Presently she appeared to feel better and rose from the bed, taking my hand and pulling me with her to the table where we again sat. She looked round the small house, then back at me before asking the question I suspected had been in her mind.

“Why has Proximo given us this house?”

“He did not do it for us, Cara. He did it for you. He does not wish you exposed to the other men, nor does he wish them intruding on our privacy, such as it is. It seems he has become an honourable man in his old age.” She snorted.

“If he were an honourable man, he would give you your freedom. He seeks to balm his conscience for his use of you to fatten his purse.” I smiled. She was likely correct, but today I did not care. All that was important to me was that Proximo had afforded us time alone, time away from the ever watchful eyes and ears of others.

We spent our time that day talking, and I walked her about the portions of the grounds devoid of training areas, showing her the gardens and small pools surrounded by fruit trees and shady palms, sitting for a time in the shade beside a pool and talking of what might have been if we had met in another time and place. Of such are dreams made. When she left me that day it was without my having taken her to bed. She was still pale and tired, and I thought it best not to push her. If she thought anything of it, she did not mention it.

CASSANDRA
I was horrified when I felt my gorge rise after drinking the water he gave me, cursing myself as I ran to the door and vomited into the small courtyard. I had been ill these last three mornings, able to keep nothing down until after meridiana. I had told Maximus the truth when I spoke of several of the servants being ill, but their illness had passed within a day, whilst my own lingered. I could not imagine what was wrong until later that month, and my monthly flux failed to appear. The one thing in life I had most wanted was realised and now became my greatest fear. As the days passed, my breasts grew tender, feeling stretched and tight. I was always tired no matter how early I retired or how late I slept in the mornings. There was no one in my house to whom I could pose questions, but I knew the truth. Maximus’ seed had found its home and now grew within my womb; I was with child. Our methods of protection had failed.

When next I went to him, Maximus asked of my health before I had completely removed my cloak. His face bore lines of concern, and I hastened to assure him that I was well. When he asked of my morning indisposition I lied telling him it had passed. What possible good would it do him to know that his seed had found its home within my body? He would not live to see our child, and his concern would likely distract him in the arena and hasten his death. I wanted him alive and with me for as long as possible. In the event that he survived until my pregnancy made itself obvious I would tell him at that time. He was worried enough about me; he did not need his burden increased with worrying of how Servius would accept a child not his own.

In truth, I was worried about Servius’ reaction when my pregnancy became visible, as I knew he would hear of it. It is one thing for a man to say what he will do when the possibility seems remote; it is an entirely different matter when forced to confront the reality. As it happened, I did not have to worry about that eventuality. On confiding in Lucilla and seeking her counsel regarding my condition, she sent word to my husband that she required me to move immediately into the palace and serve as nursemaid to her son, Lucius. Servius had little choice but to comply; I had moved out of his house the day she sent word to him and never returned. He died shortly thereafter; I was spared seeing his pain on learning that I had broken my vow of chastity to him, and for that, I was grateful. I mourned his passing but rejoiced in the freedom it gave me to revel in my pregnancy, in the life Maximus and I had created as it grew within me.

MAXIMUS
She seemed to change before my eyes. Her face grew softer, its sharp planes becoming gentler and more rounded. Her breasts grew fuller; I could see the difference, and they now filled my hands completely. Her body seemed to ripen into full womanhood as the weeks passed, with the lanky, almost coltish slenderness of her body when we met giving way to mature womanhood. I once asked laughingly if love was making her matronly. She laughed in response, saying that love had improved her appetite, and indeed, she ate more readily in my presence.

I knew she was with child, though I could not consciously acknowledge it. I would not be with her to raise our child, and that thought was too painful to contemplate. I had not been present whilst Ileana carried Marcus beneath her breast and paid no conscious attention to Ethelinde when she carried our daughter; I was too young and consumed with myself to attend to any woman’s body so long as its condition did not impede my own satisfaction. As it was, I went through my days outside the arena wrapped in the comfort of Cassandra’s love, not thinking beyond the next time she would be with me, the next time I might hold her close. I would not permit gravitatis to seriously cross my mind, as we had taken all possible precautions to avoid conception. All I asked of the Gods was this day, this one moment in time with my Cara.

Her indisposition had passed quickly enough and her former good nature and spirit returned. I knew she often went into the marketplace with her cook to select food for the day’s meals and asked some time past that she cease doing so until the cholera and usual summer plagues abated with the cooler weather in the fall. She promised she would keep to her house but for her visits to me; she said she had enough to do with running our own small household to keep her well occupied. Our own small household …those simple words brought pain to my heart, and on retiring that night I dreamt of what might be. I smiled to myself. She had no notion that I was aware of her recent removal to the palace and her ostensible position there as Lucius’ nurse. I did not know what had occasioned that move but was relieved to know she was no longer under her husband’s scrutiny.

I did not envision us remaining in Rome; I saw the two of us in the countryside in Spain. I saw my home rebuilt of the natural stone from the quarries in the area. It is pinkish in colour in the morning’s sun and turns lavender as the orb sinks in the west each evening. I saw Cassandra standing in the olive groves and the orchards with her apron full of pears. I imagined her plucking figs from the ancient tree that stood just inside the gates of my lands, stretching high to reach that one perfect fruit, then opening it and offering half to me. I saw her with our babe in her arms, its tiny mouth fastened tight to her breast. I could feel the warmth of her smile as she looked down at the little head then felt the radiance of her love for us as she raised her face to look at me. My heart and soul chased a thousand dreams down paths I knew I would never walk, though the dreams blessed my nights.

I had some time past agreed to meet the senator Lucilla spoke of to me that first day in my cell and whom she said wished to meet me; I had sent her away in anger on that occasion but had since rethought my position and sent Cicero to advise her of my change of heart. After months of waiting, she at last sent word saying she had arranged that meeting, and on the appointed day and time, I waited in Proximo’s library for her arrival with Senator Gracchus. I had a plan that might succeed in wresting Commodus from the throne. My legions were quartered in Ostia; if I could obtain horses, Cicero and I could ride to meet them. I had little doubt that on seeing me alive, my men would make short work of the puppet general now in command of Felix VII and the others of my legions.

Gracchus was doubtful of my intentions, initially distrustful that I wished nothing more than to flee Rome and return to my homeland taking Cassandra with me. I told him I would kill Commodus and leave the legions to deal with the Praetorians. We struck a deal. He would buy my freedom from Proximo, and Cicero and I would ride to Ostia. I would tell Cassandra to hold herself in readiness for my return and our departure. Neither Cassandra nor Lucilla were aware that I knew of Cassandra’s move to the palace. I chose not tell them that Cicero had told me of it, as it was clear they did not want me to know Cassandra was in such close proximity to Commodus. In truth, she was likely safer there than in her husband’s house. It was unlikely that Commodus would entertain the possibility that I was involved with a woman he considered a slave; his perception would be that no one less than Lucilla herself would interest me. I wanted Commodus dead even at the cost of my own life; I later said as much to Cassandra, watching her eyes grow wide with fear and alarm.

“Maximus, no! It’s too dangerous …you could be imprisoned for life or executed.” I had turned to look away from her before she spoke and answered tightly.

“What does it matter which manner of death I meet? We both know I will die soon. If I kill Commodus – whether in the arena or in his bed - I will have my vengeance; my fate is already sealed. Though it is my deepest desire, I will not live long enough to flee Rome; it is a dream you and I cherish, but it is folly. We both know that. The best I can do is secure Rome’s freedom from a monster.” I turned to find her standing there, horror on her face, tears streaking down her face. I opened my arms to her, and she walked into them, burying her head in my chest as she wept.

CASSANDRA
There was nothing I could do to change his mind, and when I returned to the Palace, I railed against Lucilla for her political manoeuvrings that placed his life further in jeopardy.

“Have you no care for him, for his life? You loved him once …you have said to me that you love him still! He is the father of your only child. How can you do this to him? You know his life will be forfeit if he is captured. How can you do this to me, to his child I now carry in my womb?” I could see the heartbreak in her face as she answered.

“Cassandra, we are all but players in this game. My brother must die, and Maximus is the only one who can effect that end. Gracchus and I will do all in our power to protect Maximus, but the chance must be taken. If we are discovered before we can put our plan in to effect, we will all die …Maximus, Gracchus, me …anyone who is suspected of giving us aid. The risks must be taken, Cassandra. The survival of Rome as my father saw it is more important than any one man’s – or woman’s – life.” She moved toward me, extending her arms as if to comfort me, but I threw them off.

“I hate you! I wish I had never met you, wish I had never encountered you that day at the arena. I curse myself for confiding in you about my babe. You have taken from me the one chance I have ever been given at happiness, and you care nothing for it, you care nothing for Maximus! All you can think of is Rome!” She turned from me for a moment and took a deep breath before turning to face me once more. There were tears in her eyes when she spoke.

“Without Rome, all of us are doomed, Cassandra. Rome – and her Empire – is the world. It does not matter whether or not I buy Maximus’ freedom so long as Commodus lives. There is no place Maximus – any of us – could run that my brother would not find us. He must die if Rome is to survive …and Rome must survive. I must look at the larger matter, and none of us matter in the end.” I left her then, stumbling blindly from the room.

I went to Maximus early the next day. He was not expecting me and was dismayed that I had walked so far alone through the city’s streets.

“Have you taken leave of your senses, Cassandra? You could have been attacked, raped, murdered, and no one would have known what became of you! Think of my grief should you disappear from my life without knowing your fate!” I turned on him, my anger and fear making me bold. Later I thought it strange that he never asked how I had learnt of his and Lucilla’s plan.

“Think of you? Will you not think of me, of our ….” I caught myself before I said ‘our child.’ He was too overwrought himself in that moment to consider what I might have said and filled in the rest of my words himself.

“Of our future? Cassandra, you and I have no future …we both know that, though we choose to pretend otherwise. I will never be husband to you; you will never be my wife, and I will never see you hold my child at your breast. We will never share a life beyond this moment in time.” He stopped speaking and stood completely erect, his hands going behind his back, his head proudly set and shoulders straight as he must have stood in the late Emperor’s presence. In my mind, I could see the shining plates of his lorica, the rich red of his tunica, the wolf pelts signifying his rank hanging from his shoulders. “Cara, I gave my vow to Caesar, to Marcus Aurelius, to return Rome to a republic. To go back on my vow would dishonour me as a man, and my life would mean nothing to me if I did so; I cannot live without honour. Marcus Aurelius had a dream of what Rome could be if she were returned to a republic; I promised him to make it so. I will not dishonour him or myself by ignoring that promise. Even though my life is the forfeit, I must try!”

At that moment I realised Lucilla’s words were true. We were all but actors in the macabre play set in motion by Marcus Aurelius in the moment he chose Maximus as his successor.

Later that afternoon, I sent Cicero to find Appolodorus – Lucilla’s servant and messenger - and ask that he tell Lucilla I would not return to the palace that night. If my time with Maximus was to be as brief as it now appeared, I would spend every possible moment with him. I wanted to awaken in his arms, to feel his touch in the night, to feel his body close to me in those dark hours. Maximus left the little house briefly to seek out Proximo and tell him that I would be present on his grounds much of the time until …I couldn’t even say the words. The old man asked only that I keep myself well away from the practice arena and barracks, and I did as he asked.

Two days later whilst Maximus was practicing with Hakken, there was a knock on the door. I opened it quickly, expecting Cicero or Appolodorus with some missive from Lucilla. To my surprise Proximo stood before me, washed, his hair clean and combed, and in good clothing. I was so taken aback that I stood there like a fool until he spoke.

“May I enter?”

“Yes, of course! I apologise for my rudeness, but I wasn’t expecting anyone, I ….” He waved me to silence, walking to the small table and turning to watch me carefully as I crossed the room and sat across from him.

“Does he know?” I looked at him, uncertain as to what he was asking.

“I’m sorry …does who know what, Sir?” He gestured toward my belly.

“Does Maximus know you are with child?” I am quite sure my face was a picture of shock and embarrassment.

“I …he …we …,” I finally settled on a straight response. “No, Sir, he does not …and I ask that you not tell him.” He said nothing and I thought for a moment. “Sir, how did you know?” He shook his head, smiling at me.

“Woman, I have had three wives and seven legitimate children who survived to adulthood. I have fathered more bastards on more women than I wish to recall. I know well the signs of a breeding woman. You’re what …two months along? Three?” There was no point in dissembling.

“Nearer to three, I think.”

“Why have you not told him? Is it possible the child is not his?” I felt my anger flare but controlled my tongue.

“The child is his. I have lain with no other man, nor do I have any wish to do so. I have not told him because he would then fear for my safety and that of his child. It would distract him in the arena, and he would die sooner rather than later. I want him alive as long as the Gods will it.” He nodded and looked at me from under his lashes.

“And if he does not die soon? What then? He will not notice until your belly swells further, but another two months and even his untrained eye will see it. He may be good with spotting a breeding mare, but he’s largely a fool where gravid women are concerned.” I could not be angry at his observation, as it was correct.

“If he survives that long, I will tell him when he asks me.” I had been with Maximus one day in Proximo’s stable, and we saw one of the mares coming in from her exercise period. The groom was being a bit churlish with her, and Maximus rebuked him sharply for his behaviour taking her reins from him and taking her into her stall, settling her, and brushing her down as I watched. When I asked the reason for his concern, he had turned to me and smiled.

“She is in foal …she is pregnant. Can you not see the signs?” I shook my head. I had been raised in the city and knew nothing of animals or their breeding habits and signs. He bade me kneel and look at her belly, pointing at her umbilicus. “See how it protrudes? Now,” he took my hand and ran it gently toward her udder, “feel the fullness of her belly. Can you feel the distension of the veins under her skin?” I nodded. “She has caught recently …probably within the last few months. That is why the stallions no longer pay attention to her. She is out of their reach until she delivers her burden.” I told Proximo of the conversation, and the old man smiled.

“He came to me that evening and told me of the groom’s treatment of her. I spoke with the man and cautioned him to have a care with her. He will be more careful in the future.” He shook his head. “I find it amusing that Maximus can see the signs so clearly in a horse yet miss them entirely in the woman he loves.” I smiled in return.

“Perhaps he sees only what he can bear to see in the moment. If he were to permit himself to see those signs in me, it might be a heavier burden than could carry.” He stood and made his way to the door then stopped and turned back to me.

“You have not attended the games in some time. I would encourage you to return on the days he fights.” I shook my head.

“I cannot. I fear too much for him; I cannot watch it.” I had followed him to the door and only a foot of space was between us. His large hand came up and took my chin in it before he spoke.

“Return to the arena, Cassandra. I assure you, he will die there. You will want to be close to him at that moment so that he may feel your love and nearness. Let him never doubt that your eyes saw his spirit take wings as it transports him to the afterlife where he will await you.”

MAXIMUS
I returned to the small house after visiting the baths and donning clean clothing after my workout with Hakken. She met me at the door, coming into my arms as I opened them to her. When we broke our embrace, she took my hand and drew me to the table, sitting as I sat across from her. Clearly she wished to speak of something.

“What is it, Cassandra? Of what do you wish to speak?” She seemed to steel herself and looked down at her hands before meeting my eyes.

“I am returning to the games on the days you fight.” Ah. She had ceased her attendance within weeks of our meeting, saying she could not bear the possibility of seeing me wounded or worse.

“Why do you wish to return now?” I had little doubt as to her answer but knew that she must speak the words. Our mutual acceptance of my impending death weighed heavily on both of us. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she spoke.

“I know that your time draws near, and I have spoken with Proximo. He came here today, and we talked for a time.” I said nothing, only nodding to encourage her. “He asked why I no longer attended the games. I said it was because I could not bear to see you in danger, to see you wounded or worse. Though it was painful to hear his words, he spoke the truth. He said that you will die in the arena, Maximus, and I know he is correct. He said I would want to be close to you in that moment, to be as near as I can to your body when your spirit spreads it wings to speed you to the afterlife. I do not wish to hear from another that you will not return to me. It will be easier to see it for myself than to hear it from another and hate myself for not having been close to you in that moment.” She stopped speaking and looked away from me, struggling not to weep aloud. “I want you to know that although I may not be able to reach you in time to say goodbye, my heart will be with you throughout eternity.” I stood and pulled her into my arms, speaking softly.

“I fight again tomorrow. I will look for you.” She would be in the royal box with Lucilla and Lucius, and I would be able to see her easily. She did not know that I was aware of her move to the Palace. I did not know what had effected the removal of her presence from her husband’s house, but I did know that the only reason she would be in the box with Lucilla would be her ongoing presence in Lucilla’s household. Though I did not wish her to witness further the death and destruction of that place, knowing she was near would give me peace in those last moments whenever they might come.

“I will be there.”

She left with Cicero, returning to the Palace as the wagon full of us left for the arena. I would fight shortly after noon, after the public executions. When I strode into the arena that day, I looked at the royal box, and she was there, sitting to the side and slightly behind Lucilla. As my opponent raised his sword in tribute to Commodus, I saw Lucilla’s hand reach back and grasp Cassandra’s tightly even as young Lucius stood with his arm round Cassandra’s shoulders as if to comfort her. He is a good child; he will be a good man. I am yet amazed that Lucius Veras could have sired so astute and compassionate a child. I turned to my opponent and steel met steel once more.

He fought bravely, but he was no warrior. He was either a prisoner of war or one of the thousands taken from the city’s prisons. In either instance, his training was poor at best, and the fight was over almost before it began. I swept his sword away from his hand, and he fell to his knees before me. I turned to Commodus, knowing that whilst my eyes begged for this man’s life, that gift would not be granted. The crowd gave the thumbs up. Cries of “Mitte” could be heard all round us; Commodus looked about in contempt, then drew his thumb swiftly across his throat. I turned back to the man, speaking softly to him.

“I must obey, but I will give you time to speak to your Gods one last time. I will be merciful; you will feel no pain.” He nodded once and mumbled his prayers before rising to leave only one knee on the ground and grasping my thigh with his hands as my left hand rested on his head, honouring him for fighting to the best of his ability and accepting his death with courage before raising my sword with the point just above the base of his neck. I waited until he took a deep breath, the one that allowed his chest to expand and would give easy entry for my blade to pierce his heart with one stroke. He was collapsing into the sand even as I withdrew my sword. I looked toward the royal box and saw Cassandra’s lips moving silently with her own prayers for the man’s safe conduct into the afterlife before I walked from the arena.

She was lying on the bed in the small house when I returned from the arena and pushed herself up on her arm as I entered. I was dirty, covered with grime and the blood of an innocent man; the stench of death was upon me. I stood at the foot of the bed watching her as she rose and came to me. Even as she reached for me, I stopped her.

“Do not touch me. I have not yet been to the baths. I came to you first so you would know that I am unharmed.” I turned away from her and walked to the door but stopped when her hand touched my arm. Her voice was low in its urgency.

“Now, Maximus …come to me now.” I wrenched my arm from her hand, turning on her like a rabid dog.

“Is that what you want, Cassandra? To have me take you even as the blood of an innocent man befouls my very soul? Is it the stench of death you wish in your nostrils when I come inside of you? The stench that befouls even the scent of your body as it overwhelms my senses?”

“No …I would take that from you. Even in death there is life. You gave him an honourable death, though it was not required of you. Come to me now …find life in me rather than death in the arena …come to me, Maximus.”

I dragged her to the bed, tossing her upon it as I tore off my breastplate and tunica, ripping away my subligar as my cock pushed from it and rose angrily toward her. She had begun to remove her gown, and I stayed her hands, ripping the garment from neck to hem and tossing it to the floor; she wore nothing underneath the gown. I gave her no time to prepare herself but shoved her roughly onto her back, spreading her legs wide and sinking into her depths with no thought for her comfort or pleasure.

She made no sound, yet I know the force of my entry pained her. Her arms came round my back, stroking softly as I thrust hard and fast inside her. When at last I spent myself, I cried out, not in release but in sorrow and collapsed on top of her. I lay there weeping into her breasts, finally coming to myself enough to hear her whisper.

“Shhh, shhh, Maximus. Rest here …find your peace within my body and my heart. I will never deny you either. I love you ….” I cried aloud in my torment.

“How can you love such a man? I am no better than those who pit one man against another for their own profit and the amusement of a mob. I am no longer even a man …I am reduced to a beast who kills any that cross its path.”

“No, Caro, you are wrong. Beasts have no conscience, no remorse. You do what you must to survive another day, as would any man. The Gods have work for you to accomplish, else they would have taken you long since. Marcus Aurelius would not have chosen a beast to see his will done …and I would not have fallen in love with a beast. I love a man, Maximus, a good man, a man of honour and will do so until I draw my last breath.”

CASSANDRA
He said nothing for a time, but his tears stopped falling. In time he moved off me and onto his back, taking me with him and holding me close to his side with his arms wrapped tightly round me. When at last he spoke, his voice had lost its roughness.

“I have spoken with Lucilla and Senator Gracchus.”

“I know.” He turned to look into my eyes.

“You know of our plan?” I nodded in silence.

“Then I must tell you that I am aware of your removal to the palace; I assume you are nurse to her son.” I nodded as he continued. “If Lucilla can buy my freedom, if I can rally my troops camped at Ostia, there is a possibility that we can take the throne from Commodus. I have told Gracchus that I have no wish to rule, only to leave this place and return to my homeland. If I survive, will you go with me?” I cupped his face in the palm of my hand.

“Maximus, I would willingly enter the gates of Hades if it meant I could remain at your side.” He was silent for a moment.

“I have promised both Lucilla and Gracchus that I will kill Commodus.”

“I know ….” He did not seem surprised to learn of my knowledge, only to think on it before asking another question.

“You can live with a man who determines to murder another?”

“I could not live with any man who determined to murder another man, but Commodus is an animal and must die if Rome is to survive. He is quite mad, Maximus …even his personal guards fear for their lives if they so much as look at him in a manner that displeases him. I have seen this much for myself. Marcus Aurelius knew his son was unfit to rule; that is why he chose you. I love you, Maximus. I love you …a man who would never kill save in vengeance for the horrible deaths of his wife and son and to save the Empire from destruction. And I know that even as Commodus dies, you will feel regret for having taken his life.” He did not speak again, only held me close as afternoon moved into twilight.

I awoke early; the sun was only beginning to cast a pale light in the morning sky when I turned to look at Maximus. He moved slightly, one leg going out to his side before settling again. I raised myself on one arm and gazed on his uncovered form. The night had been warm as is common this time of year, and we slept with no covering. Even in repose, he was beautiful. He had not gone to the baths the previous night; in fact, we had not left the bed all evening save to piss in the pot in the far corner. I decided to attend to his bath myself when he woke and stole quietly from the bed, taking a tunica from the small chest beside the bed and pulling it over my head.

I walked silently to the door and pulled on my cloak before opening it. I was not surprised to find Cicero asleep across the door; he woke as I attempted to step over him without disturbing him.

“My Lady …what brings you out at so early an hour?”

“I’m going to the cook’s tent and ask water be heated for Maximus’ bath. I wish to attend him myself this morning.” He stood, stretching as he did and smiled down at me.

“I will attend to that, my Lady. How soon will he be ready?” I laughed softly.

“I have no idea,” and pointed inside toward the bed. “He still sleeps.” Cicero reached round me and silently closed the door, motioning me into the small adjoining courtyard.

“I will arrange a tub to be brought round and have the cook put on additional pots of water to heat. I can move the tub inside when the General wakes, and the water will be brought when he is ready. He’ll want to break his fast before bathing …once in Germania I had his bath prepared when he rose, and he said he needed to be fully awake first lest he drown. I had only recently become his aide and was not yet fully familiar with his habits. Shall I bring food for both of you when I return with the tub?” I nodded.

“That would be wonderful, Cicero. Thank you for your care of him …of us.” He smiled again, a handsome man in spite of the scars on his face. His voice was soft when he spoke.

“And I thank you for your care and love of him. He is a good man; he deserves the love of a good woman. I am happy he has found that in you, my Lady.” He turned and walked away into the dawn. I returned to the house with tears welling in my eyes. Cicero also deserved the love and care of a good woman. I prayed he would live long enough to find it. Maximus was sitting on the side of the bed when I closed the door.

“I heard voices …is anything amiss?”

“Not at all. I was going to arrange for your bath – I will attend you myself this morning – and Cicero was sleeping on the ground outside the door when I opened it. He said he would arrange a tub to be brought and will speak to the cook to have hot water ready when you are awake enough not to drown in your bath.” He tilted his head to one side and smiled as he stood.

“So …he told you of that, did he?” His open arms beckoned me, and I walked into them as I smiled up at him.

“He did. He is a good man, Maximus. Do you know how he came to have such dreadful scars?” I stepped back allowing him to pull his tunica over his head, and he nodded as it slipped down his body.

“He was new to the Felix Legions – transferred in by Lucius Veras because he spoke the language of the Germanians – and came to us on the Germanian front. He was a legionnaire, the bastard of a barbarian woman and an infantryman. Not long after his arrival, he was captured in battle along with a number of his fellows. I led the search party; I had not yet become a general, though that followed within the year.” He sat at the table, and I poured honeyed water for him; he shook his head in memory.

“We heard their screams from some distance away. Had it not been for that, it is likely we would never have located them. The man screaming was being castrated as we rode into the barbarians’ camp. I killed the man wielding the knife, but it was too late the save my soldier; despite all our efforts he bled to death before my eyes. We killed the rest of the Germanians before searching for our men. Cicero and two of the others – all the rest were dead – were in a hut. The bastards had cut their faces – they had done the same to the man who died outside – to mark them for whoever found them. We got them back to camp and to the surgeons. One died, but Cicero and the other survived. They had been half-starved and beaten severely. Cicero’s leg had been broken, and though the surgeons did their best, once healed it was clear he would always walk with a limp; he was no longer fit for the battlefield.” He took another draught from his cup before continuing.

“Soon thereafter my aide died of the plague, and I required a replacement. It was my custom to visit the hospital each day to check on my men, and I had struck up conversation with Cicero on many occasions. Following his release from hospital, he had gone to work in the camp’s kitchens; that seemed to me a waste of an intelligent man, as any fool can make soup and skin animals for cooking. He was young and strong – able to work hard and sound but for his gait – and it occurred to me that he would be a man I could trust. I asked if he was interested …he said he was. He moved into my tent two days later. From that day until I was arrested by the Praetorians on the night of Marcus Aurelius’ death, he was within calling distance but for when I was in battle. I trust him more than any man I have ever known save the late Emperor.” He looked at me as I sat across the table from him.

“He would give his life to protect you, Cassandra, if for no other reason than the fact that he is my friend. He is as honourable and decent a man as has ever been born, certainly as I have ever been privileged to know. I am honoured that he still wishes to associate with me and grateful for his loyalty and friendship.” I reached across the table to rub his hand with my own.

“Cicero is fortunate to have you as his friend, Maximus. You are both honourable men and recognise the trait in the other.” He smiled and downed the contents of his cup then stood and stretched.

“Do you think the water is hot?”

“I’ll ask Cicero.”

I opened to door to see Cicero coming across the courtyard with a tub on his back and motioned him inside. He said good morning to Maximus and looked about for a location appropriate to the coming task. I nodded toward the small kitchen area, and he placed the tub on the floor before turning back to us.

“Would you like me to shave you this morning, Sir?” Maximus ran his hand over his jaw and nodded.

“I think I need it lest I be mistaken for one of the goats in Proximo’s pens.” I spoke as they laughed.

“You needn’t trouble yourself, Cicero. I can attend to him.” Maximus looked at Cicero then at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Cassandra, I trust you in most matters, but where a blade and proximity to my neck are concerned, I think I prefer Cicero’s practised and steady hand.” We all laughed and Cicero left to collect his blade, returning a few minutes later with it and a bottle of oil and several small towels; he carried a small bucket of steaming water in his other hand. He placed the towels and blade on the table and the bucket on the floor before fetching a basin from the stand beside our bed. He pulled a chair out from the table and motioned Maximus to sit. I sat across from them, interested in this process. In truth, I’d never shaved a man but had seen it done in my husband’s house, and it didn’t appear that difficult. I had much to learn.

Cicero poured water from the bucket into the bowl and dropped a small towel in, swishing it round with his finger tip before removing it and squeezing gingerly. I could see the steam rise and saw the skin of his hands redden. He looked at Maximus, and the latter nodded before tilting his head backward. Cicero applied the towel to Maximus’ face, and I heard his hiss as the heat touched his skin. Another towel, and this one was applied to his neck. I could see the cords in Maximus’ arms tighten when the first towel was applied and leant forward, my chin cupped in one hand as I observed carefully. Cicero poured oil into one hand and rubbed them together.

“General?” Maximus pulled the towels away, tossing them onto the table as Cicero spread the oil over his face and neck.

“If you would, my Lady, put two more towels into the water.” I did as told and sat back again. Cicero again pulled the towels from the water, wringing them out though less thoroughly this time and put them on Maximus’ face and neck. Another hiss. I was beginning to question if being shaven was worth it for a man when Cicero spoke.

“A man’s beard is tough, my Lady, far more resistant to a blade than the soft hair on a woman’s legs which is easily removed with pumice. The heat softens the beard and makes the ordeal less trying.” I nodded. Though it was not a topic likely to be considered suitable for conversation between men and women, I was comfortable with Cicero’s observation, and Maximus did not appear to object. I routinely spent a time rubbing a pumice stone over my legs to make them smooth, but with only one or two swipes in each area, the skin was as smooth as the bottom of a new born babe. Cicero removed the towels and picked up his blade applying it first to Maximus’ neck, sweeping it upward to just below the defined beard line on his jaw, wiping it on one of the damp towels, and returning again to this task. After the third swipe, Maximus grunted.

“Enough!” Cicero smiled and sat on the edge of the table and looked at me.

“It’s a somewhat painful process, my Lady. Most of us can bear only a few strokes before the beard dulls the blade, and we must rest for a time before beginning anew.” He pulled a small, smooth stone from the pocket of his tunica and held it in one hand; he poured a small bit of oil on it before drawing the blade slowly back and forth over its surface to renew the edge. When he was satisfied, he placed the stone and blade on the table and looked at Maximus who nodded grimly. Cicero rubbed more oil on his skin and put more steaming towels over it for a few moments and began once more. When he was finally done Maximus stood and rubbed his hand over his neck and jaw.

“Thank you, Cicero. You see, Cara? It is not so simple as it might appear at a moment’s glance.”

“So I see. I believe I shall leave your shaving in Cicero’s capable hands.” We all laughed, and Cicero turned back to my love.

“I shall check on the water for your bath.” He looked at me. “Do you wish to attend him for that yourself, or do you require assistance?” Maximus answered for me.

“She is more than capable.” The smile that passed between them told me Cicero knew much – if not all – that had transpired on my first two visits to Maximus when he was in the cells beneath the arena as well as since that time, and I flushed to my hairline. Cicero bowed to both of us, collected the implements and small bucket now filled with soiled towels, and took his leave. I waited until the door closed behind him before speaking.

“Does he know of ….”

“He knows enough, though not all. Even had I told him, it would never pass his lips.” I breathed a sigh of relief. For a few moments I had feared I would never again be able to look Maximus’ friend in the face. He pulled off his tunica and tossed it toward the bed as I collected my bottle of cleansing oil and strigil from a small chest in the corner of the room and returned to him. He stood naked before me, a strong and proud specimen of everything that is beautiful in a man. The hard planes of muscle in his back and chest, the smooth curve of his buttocks, the hard belly, the bunched sinews in his legs and arms …he was more beautiful than any statue I had ever seen. I poured oil into my hands and began smoothing it over his back, working it into the skin of his back to loosen the dirt accumulated the day before, then quickly removed it with my strigil. I did the same for the backs of his legs, then moved quickly to the front to find his phallus rigid and bobbing in my face as I knelt before him. He smiled wryly when I looked up at him.

“Pay it no mind. It takes little attention from you to waken from slumber.” We laughed together as I cleaned the front of his legs and moved to his chest and arms, cleaning them and then stood back. He raised an eyebrow as he spoke.

“I believe you missed something.” I had not done his belly, unsure if he wished me to do it or preferred attending to that area himself. I bent again to my task, working the oil into the hair of his lower belly, enjoying the crispness of its changed texture where it surrounded his genitals. His phallus bobbed even more as I finished my task and I realised he was laughing.

“You enjoy its purpose but you are unsure what to do when it salutes you.” I almost shouted with laughter because his words were true. Still, I was unsure of how I should proceed; fortunately for him, he rescued me. He took the bottle from the table and poured oil into one hand then worked in into his member, peeling back the foreskin to reveal the purple head in its entirety, stroking firmly but gently as he worked the oil deeply into his skin. He motioned toward the table, and I handed him a clean towel. He rubbed firmly, cleaning the head and under his foreskin before returning it to its usual position and rubbing the length of his member with the towel before tossing it aside. Even as the towel left his hands, my eyes returned to his phallus, and I could see the pearly drops forming at its tip. I knelt before him as I grasped his phallus in my hand and stroked firmly. His voice was rough when he spoke.

“Cassandra, you need not do this.” Several weeks past I had asked if I could pleasure him with my mouth in the manner he pleasured me. He said I could, but he would not ask it of me as many women did not like doing so. I had discovered that I did like it, but we had only done this twice, and I was still not entirely certain that I did it properly …whatever properly might imply in that matter.

I touched my tongue to his tip, and he gasped as he leant back against the table and clutched the sides with his hands. I had a moment of panic and looked up at him.

“What if Cicero should return whilst …,” and he cut me off.

“The man is not a fool, Cassandra. He will not return until one of us summons him.”

We lay on the bed, and I trembled in the wake of my passion. Earlier and after his assuring me that Cicero would not return until summoned, I had taken Maximus’ phallus in my mouth, sucking and licking him, moving my mouth back and forth along its length. His groans assured me that I was giving him pleasure, and I revelled in my ability to do so in this manner. One of his hands gripped the table as the other enmeshed itself in my hair, suddenly stopping the back and forth movement of my head as he began to thrust into my mouth. He always stopped just short of choking me, and as I ran my hand up his leg to caress his heavy sac, I felt it tighten, and then his body shook as his seed flooded into my mouth. I swallowed quickly as his body shuddered again, and he cried out in his release. I remained where I was, and in a moment, he removed himself from my lips and sank slowly to his knees, resting his head on my shoulder as he pulled me into his arms. His voice was gentle when he spoke.

“Have I hurt you? Have I shamed you, Cassandra?” I pulled back to see his face.

“You have not hurt me, and I do not believe it possible for anything we do together to shame me.” His gaze met mine fully.

“Many women find this act distasteful; they deem it shameful to perform it for their husbands and force them to go to whores for that satisfaction. I am of the opinion that whatever passes between a man and his wife is good if both are willing, but if it makes you uncomfortable we will not do it again.” Though I heard all his words, only one truly caught my attention …wife.

“Maximus …why did you say what passes between a man and his wife?” He smiled, but his eyes were full of sorrow.

“You will never be my wife, Cara, but if I could make it so, I would …if you would have me.” His eyes held mine as he continued. “Do you not realise that you are wife to me in all but name? Do you not know that if I could consider a life beyond today that I would speak to your husband – risk his anger and all honour – and ask that he divorce you so I might make you my own wife? I learnt to love my first wife but never as I have come to love you. You are all I have ever dreamt of and all I could ever wish for in a woman and wife.” He shook his head. “I am not good with words of love, Cassandra, but know this if nothing else. I love you, and I will love you throughout eternity.” I felt the tears slip from my eyes and leant into his chest.

“As I love you, Maximus, and if there could be a time for us, I would ask Servius to divorce me so we might marry. In the short time we have had together you have given me all that any woman could ask. You have given me your love …you have given me all of yourself …you have given me all of my dreams.” He stood and pulled me to my feet before scooping me into his arms and carrying me to bed. He never asked the meaning of my last statement; perhaps he knew he could not bear the answer and so did not wish to know.

“Let me love you as you have loved me.” Six weeks later I sat watching in horror from the royal box as he fought Commodus. I saw the Emperor die and watched my life as I had dreamt of it slip away as Maximus’ blood soaked into the sands of the great arena.

To be Continued

NOTES

Meridianus	Midday or around noon
Pomeridianus	In the afternoon. To the best of my knowledge, there is no Latin equivalent for ‘late afternoon.’
Meridiana	Noon
Gravitatis	Pregnancy
“Mitte”	Release him.

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