This is a work of fiction, loosely based on the character "Maximus" from the Dreamworks film, "Gladiator" . No insult or invasion of copyright intended, but rather, it is a way of expressing the author's delight in Russell Crowe's work and his manliness. "Gladiator" and its characters are copyrighted by Dreamworks, but the premise of this story is copyrighted by me.

©2001 by WILDBEARIES

This story is based on characters created in the film, "Gladiator" and in no way intended to infringe upon those characters or the story of that film. References to real people are strictly the product of the writer's imagination and meant to entertain the reader.
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Unlocking the wooden chest and examining the contents was more difficult than Maximus thought it would be. There were three scrolls, each one sealed with the insignia of Marcus Aurelius in purple wax and tied with silk cords bearing the imperial eagle. There was the sapphire signet ring - one he recalled seeing on the emperor's hand many times. There was a large leather bag that proved to hold gleaming golden aureii - a stunning sum, in fact. There was the late emperor's own Felix Legions medallion, twin to the one Maximus now wore, and, beneath all of this treasure was a rolled up parchment.

Each item in and of itself was imposing enough. Knowing that he was handling objects worn and used by the man he considered his adoptive father, the man whose murder had precipitated the past long months of agonizing loss, painful captivity and even more challenging freedom, was overwhelming. The mere sight of the contents of the chest that first morning had filled him with such strong emotions that he had fled the camp to sit by the river bank until he had regained his composure.

Now, approaching the task once again, Maximus felt he was forearmed enough to examine the items without emotions coming into play. He opened the folded, sealed page first, since it was on top.

"Dear Maximus," he read, instantly recognizing the handwriting as Lucilla's. He almost stopped at that, but decided to read on out of pure curiosity. She was obviously playing games, and had sent the box to him as part of her scheming. He sighed and started over, "I am sending the contents of this box to you because they are things my father wanted you to have. You know he held you in the highest regard and often expressed that he wished you had been his son rather than the man the gods gifted him with." Maximus' lips curled in a faint smile at that. "The last time I spoke to him, he gave these scrolls into my safekeeping, making me promise to give them to you after his death. I am now able to do that, after long months of holding them, unopened, where they would be safe, thinking you were dead also."

Maximus sighed and sat at his map table, smoothing the heavy papyrus, continuing to read. "The ring is one he wished you to have. He gave it to me that last morning. I think he knew somehow he would not survive to gift you with it himself. Likewise, the medallion. 'For Maximus,' he told me, 'tell him I'm sorry I kept him from going home.' I did not understand what he meant at the time. It was only later that everything made sense and I realized what he had asked you that last, terrible morning."

Maximus rubbed his face tiredly. It had been a terrible morning. He had gone to speak with the emperor and had been asked to sacrifice his plans for the good of Rome, to forego his trip home and his retirement from the army and instead, completely against his nature, to serve as protector of Rome until such time as the Republic could be re-established. He had often wondered how things might have turned out if he had just been able to bring himself to say a firm "no" to the emperor, and gone home anyway. Maybe nobody would have died - not Selene and his son, Marcus, not his servants and home slaves, nobody. Well, Commodus, perhaps - there was a man who had needed killing. He sighed. Ah, well, that was all in the past now and could not be changed. He read the last lines of the letter.

"I alone have seen the contents of this chest. These things are all for you, Maximus, because he loved you. If things had been as he wished, you would be my brother instead of Commodus, but then we would never have loved one another. Forgive me for saying it now, but I did and always will love you, despite anything I may have done to make you think otherwise. When the time comes, your son, Lucius, will learn who his real father is, and I will send him to you. Who else could teach our son what it is to be a man except you?"

"I ask forgiveness for everything, knowing that you will likely not grant it. Until we meet again, Maximus, know that you remain in my heart, and that you were in my father's heart until the very end. Fare well on your journey to Hispania." It was signed simply "Lucilla" .

Maximus folded the letter and laid it aside. The memories the letter had evoked were both painful and pleasant - that glorious last battle fought along the Danube and the victory, and then the last conversation with Marcus Aurelius and what he had asked of him. Bitter and sweet. Terrible and wonderful. All leading to death. The emperor's, Selene's and Marcus', all his household, and almost - almost - himself.

He broke the seals on the first scroll and unrolled it.

It was the journal Marcus Aurelius had been writing in those last days in Germania. It contained daily jottings about trivial happenings and also more weighty events - everything from how many piglets they had purchased that week to how many Marcomanni warriors lay dead in the ravines around the last battlefield. Reading it, Maximus could almost hear that distinctive, cultured voice speaking the words to him. It was like being in the room with him.

"Maximus," he read, "has led the legions to another stunning victory. The gods alone know what this man could do with ultimate power, yet I think it would only be good things for I see no signs of evil in him, no shirking from his duty. I also see his absolute love of his home and family, so that what I will ask him to do will tear him apart inside. If I could, I would spare him that, but I see no other choice for Rome; there simply is no other man who can do what needs to be done. It will be a great honor for him, and if I know him, he will be stunned with surprise to hear my plans. I only pray Maximus will forgive me for all of it some day."

Maximus dropped the scroll and remembered. The cavalry charge through the snowy woods, the ballistas hurling firepots through the air, explosions all around, the screams of horses and men, and the clash of weapons - all while beautiful, feathery flakes of snow fell from the sky, an incongruity in the midst of such a ferocious battle. He recalled being knocked off Argento early in the action, landing on his back in the mud, barely preventing his decapitation at the hands of a fierce German warrior, then somehow struggling to his feet despite the clinging wet clay and the fierce fighting all around him. Argento, uncharacteristically, had bolted toward the Roman lines, so he was forced to remain on foot. The battle raged and he killed he knew not how many, wielding two different swords, losing one when it stuck fast in a frozen tree trunk, gaining another when he took it from the hand of a dead Roman officer. At the end, the Germans just stopped fighting - those who were alive, at any rate. He recalled a feeling of unreality. Sounds were distant, his vision still narrowed as it was when he was fighting and focused on an adversary. He raised his sword and shouted, "Roma Victor!" and the men began cheering.

"Maximus, Maximus, Maximus!" they chanted, hundreds, thousands of voices raised, swords banging against shields. "Maximus, Maximus, Maximus!" He closed his eyes, assaulted by the smells and sounds of that day.

"Maximus?" He started, opening his eyes, confused for a moment until he realized this wasn't a memory, it was Ana, standing in the doorway of his tent, and she apparently had called his name several times. "The guard called, but you didn't answer, so I came in." She crossed to him and took his hands in hers, surprised to find them icy cold. "What is it?" She couldn't read his face except that he looked somehow dazed or in the grip of strong emotions. Then she saw the unrolled scroll and the contents of the chest spread out on the map table. "Oh, you've opened it."

"Yes," he said, gathering his composure back together. He lifted her small hands to his lips and kissed them. "It contains wonderful things - see - the journals of Marcus Aurelius from the last weeks of the campaign in Germania, and some things he wanted me to have." He showed her the ring, the medallion and the heavy coin bag, which made her eyes widen. "I know," he smiled at her, "a veritable fortune in gold. No doubt meant to supply me with pocket money when I did as he wanted."

Ana, who knew only part of that story, said, "Pocket money? You'd have to have a pretty grand pocket!"

"Well, as it turned out, I had no pocket at all."

He looked so bleak, remembering, that Ana put her arms around him and hugged him. "That will never happen to you again," she said into his shoulder. He was a very strong, man she thought, but beneath the armor and his military manner, his heart was as vulnerable as hers. His arms tightened around her and she felt his breath on her hair as he kissed the top of her head.

"I believe you," he whispered. He tipped her chin with his forefinger, "My pocket Venus is a she-wolf in disguise, I think."

"Definitely," she agreed. When he laughed and released her, she said, "Let's look at the rest of the things, if you'll permit me?"

"Of course," he answered, inviting her to sit beside him as he emptied the box onto the table.

"Ana," he said thoughtfully, "I've never told you all of why Commodus tried to have me killed in Germania. I think, since we are to marry soon, you should know the truth of it."

"Only if you want to tell me," she said, although she was extremely curious about why such a favored man, a General of the Armies, would have become a slave and fought in the arena as a gladiator.

"I do," he handed her the scrolls. "Perhaps if you read these - they're marked with dates, start with the oldest one first." Seeing her about to begin, he laughed and stayed her hand from unrolling the first one. "Wait, wait, Impatience! Let us look at the other things first."

Ana smiled, and rerolled the scroll, though she was dying to know what was in it. She examined the legion medallion, which was identical to his own, though obviously more worn and much older. He handed her the sapphire ring with the wolf carved into the gemstone. "This is handsome, will you wear it?" she asked.

He nodded and tried it on his right hand. It fit his right ring finger so he left it there. "I remember seeing him wear this often. It's an honor that he wanted me to have it." He unlaced the heavy coin bag and removed several of the golden aureii. They were bright as new, obviously never out of their pouch since minted. He gave several to Ana, "Here, your bride price," he teased her.

She gaped at the coins. "This is a small fortune!"

"And you are worth it," he told her, closing her fingers over the beautiful coins. "But keep them - for our children, we have all these others we can spend if you are inclined to do so."

Ana found herself blushing when he said, "For our children," but she knew she wanted a family, wanted to give him a son to help fill the void where his little Marcus used to be. "I will keep these," she agreed. "Mayhap a goldsmith can drill a hole in each so they can be put on a chain?"

"Excellent," he approved. He took out the large document that was rolled like a map and tied with plain cord. "I wonder what this is?"

"Only one way to find out," she teased him, but he was already unrolling it. "Ohhh," she breathed, as he unfurled a beautifully drawn map of Hispania. "Look, is that Emerita Augusta?"

He put his fingers over the site, "Yes…and here, here is Trujillo, where my home is." He showed her. "It sits on a hill, surrounded by groves of apples and dates, oranges - grapes. It is pink stone, the villa, and . . and. . ."

He stopped and she squeezed his hands. 'I'm sure it's beautiful. Did you say it had been restored since . . .well, since then?"

He had control of himself once again, and nodded. "Yes, so I was told. It's a lovely place, Ana. I hope you will find it so also, though I imagine there will be an official residence for us since I am governor of the province now." How strange that sounded. To go from "Gladiator" to "Governor" with a few strokes of the pen. Truly, Fate was a jokester, and peace of mind a will o' the wisp.

They pored over the map, which was of all of Hispania, then Maximus rolled it back up and returned it to the chest for safekeeping. He put the coins in his locked money chest under the camp bed, and the medallion went back in the box with the map. "When you have read the scrolls, you will have many questions," he told Ana. "So I would prefer that you let them wait for now, and come with me to look at the horses for sale."

"Gladly," she said, and let him stow the scrolls in his map case. She walked with him to the stabling area and rode one of the quieter, smaller mounts, following behind Maximus on Scarto as they rode across the castra and down the road to Ostia and the horse market.

Livestock and horse dealers from all over Italy were thronging the markets, knowing the Felix III was about to march and would be buying horses, cattle and other animals before they left. Maximus had asked the grooms and stablemen which dealers were reputable and which to avoid, so he began looking at once for an area marked with green banners and the name "Hystarchus".

"There he is," he said, guiding Scarto through the busy street, circling the crowds, eventually reaching a large fenced off area that held perhaps four dozen horses, a like number of ponies and draught mules, plus some huge horses that could be used to pull the heavy war engines. Maximus dismounted and helped Ana down, handing the reins to a small boy, who grinned and agreed to watch the two horses for a price that wasn't too staggering. "Good lad," Maximus told him, when he saw how the boy handled the big war horse and the smaller mare without appearing to be nervous at all.

"Come, let's look for horses," he invited Ana, and they walked to the entrance of Hystarchus' paddock. That man, a Greek from Athens, he told them, had excellent stock, the stablemen hadn't lied. Maximus just stood on the outside of the paddock for awhile, examining the horses, seeing how they moved, seeing which were frisky and which calm, checking eyes and legs and chests, evaluating and discarding. After a long time, he nodded to Hystarchus. "That sorrel, the one with the white star. Bring him out."

"Excellent choice, sir!" the Greek enthused, and ducked under the rope paddock fence to fetch a large sorrel stallion who stood eyeing Maximus as keenly as the general was eyeing him. "Ho, now, Belarus," the dealer said in a soft voice, "this officer wants to see you, show him your mettle now." He snapped a lead onto the halter and led the horse forward, "He is a fine stallion, just rising four," he told Maximus.

"Is he your breeding?" Maximus extended a hand, palm up and let the sorrel sniff it. When the velvet muzzle touched his hand, he grinned and patted it. "Good boy."

"He is my breeding," Hystarchus acknowledged. "His dam is a bay mare from the source lines of the Barbary breed. She is ten and built like a stallion herself, strong and rangy. Her foals are always superior."

"And the sire?" Maximus by then was stroking the sleek red chestnut neck and shoulder.

"A black demon of a horse I brought up from Egypt last year, although he is pure Hispanic and not Arab. He has a mane like a black waterfall, and a tail like the whirlwind."

Maximus laughed. "I know the kind, it looks as if the bloodlines mixed well." He patted the stallion one last time, then reluctantly moved on to examine a few others in the string that were for sale. He returned to the sorrel each time. "All right, what is the price?" he inquired.

Hystarchus named a sum that made Ana gasp. Maximus merely laughed softly and said, "Move aside, let me try this paragon. He must have gaits fit for the gods for you to ask that price for him." He handed Ana his cloak and unbuckled his leather lorica, setting it on the ground. Before Hystarchus could protest, Maximus leapt onto the horse's back, grabbed hold of the halter rope, and began testing the stallion's gaits.

He walked him among the other horses in the enclosure, then backed him up, prodded him into a canter, and jumped him over the rope strands that made up the temporary fence. "Here, now, be careful!" Hystarchus shouted, then realized as he watched that he needn't worry, for this Roman was a master horseman. He rode like he and the horse were one, first cantering then galloping around the outside of the paddocks. When he was finished, he jumped the horse back into the fenced area and jumped down, grinning.

"What was the price again?" he asked, knowing full well what it was.

Hystarchus told him. He folded his arms across his chest, signaling that he was not open to bargaining. He knew the worth of this horse and his price was fair, given that.

Maximus calmly reached into his money pouch and counted out the coins to the dealer. "And I want a riding horse for the lady here, show us your best."

Hystarchus, staring at the gold coins, blinked back to reality and ran to get the requested horses. He came back in a few minutes leading two mares, one black, one gray, both very beautiful and well trained by their behavior.

"Which do you favor?" Maximus asked Ana after they had examined teeth, bones, wind, etc.

She looked from one horse to the other. The gray had a softer expression, and her white mane and tail were beautiful. The black had a star and snip on her face, intelligent brown eyes and a dainty turn of hoof. Her tail was arched and her mane fell over a high-crested neck, spilling down in front into a long forelock. "The black," she finally chose, reluctant to choose against the gray, which was also a lovely mount. Maximus missed nothing of this, but handed over a sum of money after a short round of friendly haggling that left both he and the dealer happy. Ana was surprised to see both mares and the stallion being led off toward the castra. "Both?" she asked.

"I will need at least two mares, probably more, if I want to re-establish my own stables in Trujillo," he said logically, then he grinned, "Besides, admit it - you liked both of them too."

She nodded, "I did, I admit it freely."

He redonned the lorica and cloak, then encircled her with his arm and they walked, leading their mounts, Scarto blowing through his nostrils at some ragamuffin children who dared dart too close to him at one point. Maximus merely shook the rein up and the horse looked contrite.

"Do all your mounts obey you so well?" she asked.

"The four legged ones, yes," he teased her, laughing when she realized the double meaning and blushed. "Come, it grows late, let's return to the camp, I'm sure you have things to do as do I."

They rode back to the camp and separated, Ana with the bundled scrolls, and Maximus off to the Praetorium to meet with his officers yet again about the fast-approaching departure date. Ana settled in a comfortable position on her bed, piled about with cushions, and read the scrolls. When she finished and re-rolled them, her knowledge of Maximus was much more clear in her mind now that she knew what he had been offered, and what Commodus had stolen from him. On the other hand, knowing Maximus as she already did, she knew he would not have been happy as the "guardian of Rome", as Marcus Aurelius so grandly called the position he had offered him. She was, truthfully, more than a little bit annoyed with the late emperor for being so selfish as to offer such a thing to a man he knew would be duty bound to accept it despite it's being totally against his inclinations and personality. "Old man, you almost killed him with your single-minded, high flown ideals."

She knew such annoyance with a man long since dead was irrational, but there it was. "He would have hated it. He's a soldier - a warrior and a horseman and an honorable man - and you who professed to love him dearly, you almost were the end of him." She bundled the scrolls and walked through the camp, which was settling down for the dinner hour. Maximus wasn't yet returned from the Praetorium, so she persuaded the guards to let her in - which they did, knowing she was important to the general - and she left the scrolls on his bed with a note thanking him for allowing her to read them. She finished it with a series of X's and O's and the scrawled initial "A" inside a heart.

There. That would give him something to think about, she thought. She hurried back to her tent, wondering if he would act on her encouraging X's and O's.

Near midnight, a low whistle outside her tent woke her and she grinned into the darkness, then arose, wrapped herself in her furlined cloak and peeked outside. A dark silhouette moved close, then he took her hand and led her back across the camp and into his tent. The guards showily looked the other way as Maximus strode past with her. Once inside, he blew out all but the one lamp near his bed.

"Why whatever did you have in mind, General?" she asked in a low, teasing voice. He was unlacing the ribbons of her robe at the time, letting the fabric droop until her bosom was exposed. "Ummm," she purred as he took hold of her breasts and fastened greedy lips over her right nipple, suckling hard, his beard teasing the silken flesh. "Oh, yes, I like that," she encouraged him.

Maximus chuckled and removed his own cloak, revealing that he was just in shirt and trousers, which he cast off, grasping her by the waist and lifting her, the robe sliding off her onto the floor, guiding her thighs around him, swiftly impaling her on his shaft, which was straining upward, thick as the stallion's. It came into her, spreading and filling her. "Oh, gods," she moaned, and he lowered her backside onto his map table and climbed on top of her, beginning to stroke her deeply, almost roughly. "Oh, yes," she encouraged him, "yes, Maximus - yes!"

He took her mouth with his and silenced her voice, taking her cries of pleasure inside himself, quickly reaching his own climax and quivering over her until he collapsed against her, finished - for the time being. He kissed her face and throat, then licked and suckled her breasts, all the time whispering erotic, explicit things to her that excited her almost beyond bearing. When he called her his little Egyptian mare, she arched against him and whispered in his ear that he was her big Hispanic stallion. They completed that round with laughter as well as delighted gasping.

They moved to the bed eventually, and neither slept very much that night. Just before dawn, he walked back across the camp with her. They stood wrapped in his cloak outside her tent, saying goodbye for the moment. "We must marry soon," he whispered to her. "I want you with me all the time, I hate having you leave and not spend the whole night."

"I do also," she answered. "I think my father will agree to the marriage taking place whenever you want."

"Good," Maximus said firmly. "Tomorrow." He kissed away her look of surprise, and left her with a wave and a grin. "Tomorrow," he mouthed, then he was gone, melting into the shadows in a swirl of cloak and mist.

"Tomorrow," she agreed, and went to bed to snatch a few hours' sleep and dream of a running wolf and fierce red horses with black manes, and olive groves surrounding a house with pink stones. Through all of this walked the man with the fierce blue-green eyes and he was always smiling, only for her. "Maximus," she breathed aloud, and slept on.

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Copyright 2001 by wildbearies