©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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The legion had been on the march for a month. They had progressed up the Appian Way northward, with stops in Genuva and other larger towns along the route. Ana rode in the wagon with her father during the days, unless Maximus came to fetch her for a ride on Pulcher or the black mare, Nuit. The nights she spent in his tent with him, wrapped in his arms. She was totally happy. She could only be happier, she thought, if they had actually reached Emerita Augusta and she could set about making his quarters into a home for him.

Of course, the farther north they rode, the colder it got. She was now wearing the same wool flannel trousers the men wore - made to fit her decidedly different figure, of course - and several layers of woolen clothing under her fur lined cloak. She wore boots with rabbit fur linings, and mittens of leather lined with the same fur. When the wind blew icy snow into her face, she wrapped a long knitted muffler around and around her head until all that was exposed were her frosty eyelashes. Warm herself, she worried about Maximus.

As for Maximus, he was used to the cold, or had been after years spent campaigning in Germania and the northern provinces. He found that the cold affected him after being away from it, living first in the inferno of Zucchabar and then in the more temperate Roman climate. To keep Ana from fussing over him every time he coughed or she thought he looked a little off, he humored her and wore an extra woolen shirt under his tunic and made sure he had a wool scarf wrapped around his neck and throat, tucked into his lorica to keep the wind out. There was nothing he could do about the helmet, however. It was metal, and though it was thinly padded with felt on the inside, it transferred the cold directly onto his head. He often wore it with the hood of his cloak pulled up over it and a muffler tied round that to keep it in place. When it was really icy, he wrapped the muffler around his face too.

After a day that had been particularly brutal, the night was well advanced before he had finally finished seeing to the welfare of his men and the animals. He was tired, hungry and aching from prolonged exposure to the cold. Coming into the tent was like walking into a small corner of Elysium - it was warm, the lamps were lighted, and he could smell stew simmering on a brazier. As Drusus unbuckled the straps of the lorica and untangled the scarves, layers of tunics and shirts he wore beneath it, and then helped him get his boots off, he could have wept with relief. Ana's coming forward with warm mulled cider only added to the comfort. "I'm a lucky man," he commented, stretching his shoulders, glad to be free of the weight of his armor and cloak.

"You do not look well," she chided him, feeling of his forehead. She looked over at Drusus, who was putting food onto the table for them. "Would you heat that oil for me when you've finished, Drusus?"

"Of course, my Lady," he answered, as always, the soul of politeness.

"Would that be for me?" Maximus asked. He loved having her rub oil into his muscles, it felt so good and often ended with a very pleasurable interlude in the bed. He yawned, thinking he might not be able to have the pleasurable ending part, but that the massage would certainly be welcome.

"It would, now come and eat." She gestured him to his chair, and they sat, Drusus included at both her and Maximus' insistence, and ate the hot lamb stew and chunks of freshly baked bread dipped in olive oil seasoned with herbs. Maximus almost fell asleep before he could finish his meal, but managed to clean his plate. Ana followed him into the bed chamber afterward. "I'm worried about you," she told him.

His smile flashed briefly, "I'm fine, really." He washed his face and hands in water warmed on the brazier, then stripped off his clothes and lay face down on the bed. "I believe something was mentioned about oil?" he prompted her.

Ana poured some of the warmed oil into her hands and began rubbing it into his shoulders and back while he sighed in pleasure. He fell asleep midway through the massage, so when she finished, Ana wiped the oil off her hands, blew out the lamps and climbed into bed next to him. She pulled the blankets and warm furs over them and snuggled against Maximus. Pressing a kiss onto his sleeping face, she whispered, "Rest well," and fell asleep.

They were up when dawn pinked the sky, and on the march by mid-morning. The weather had suddenly turned milder, so the troops and officers looked less like marching snowmen that day, and Ana was relieved on Maximus' account. He might be tired at the end of the day, but at least he would not be so cold. As if to assuage her worrying, he rode past Erato's wagon several times that day, and once even took her on a brief ride across the front of his saddle. "I'm sorry I fell asleep last night," he said softly, pressing a brief kiss on her temple.

"That's perfectly all right," she told him with a smile, noting that they were the target of several interested looks. "Your men worry that you're becoming soft," she teased him.

He took her hand and pressed it against the juncture of his thighs. Even through his layers of clothing she could feel evidence to the contrary. He gave her an innocent look, but winked. "Not so soft, eh?"

"Umm," she murmured, closing her fingers around him and squeezing the firm flesh.

Maximus cleared his throat, glad his cloak hid what she was doing. "Ana," he said in a warning tone.

"Yes?" She didn't let go of him.

"Ahh, best stop that." He tried to shift in the saddle, but was basically unable to get out of her reach without making a scene. "Ana," he tried again, "stop now."

She sighed and let go. "As you wish, Maximus," she said meekly.

"Minx," he pronounced her. He cantered Scarto back to Erato's wagon and lifted her onto the seat beside her father. "Until later," he told her, and galloped off.

"He looked a bit odd, did you two have words?" her father wondered.

"Words? No, but I think I made him a little bit uncomfortable." She smiled innocently and climbed into the back of the wagon to read. She selected the poems of Catullus, hardly boring and definitely erotic. She was determined Maximus would not fall asleep too soon that night. Somehow, given that she had left him in a very aroused, unfulfilled condition, she doubted it would take much to keep him awake.

As for Maximus, he could not stop thinking about Ana's touching him. For a woman relatively new to carnal pleasures, she already knew his body very well indeed. Scarto's warm bulk between his thighs only served to reinforce his arousal, so that by the time another hour had passed, he was aching for release and cursing himself for initiating the contact in the first place. "Edepol!" he muttered, told Antoninus that he had something he needed to do, and rode back to where Erato's wagon was now being driven by one of the men who assisted him with his work. "Is my wife in the wagon?" Maximus inquired after the soldier saluted him.

Ana poked her head out the front upon hearing his voice, "She is." She grinned at him, looking as if she knew exactly what was going on with him.

Maximus gestured for her to come out, which she did, then he scooped her up and kicked Scarto into a gallop, quickly riding off the side of the road into the trees. He didn't stop until they were well away from the legion. She sat crossways in front of him, one arm around his waist, holding onto Scarto's mane with the other. By the time he pulled the horse to a stop, he was kissing her hotly. He whispered something coarse into her ear and she laughed, stroking his thigh. "What else are you going to do?" she asked.

He slid off Scarto, dragging her down with him, imprisoning her with her back against the horse's warm flank so he could kiss her. Scarto stepped aside, however, so Maximus instead held her to him and walked her backwards a few steps until she was pressed against a large oak. He was panting, groping under her skirts, fumbling with both her trousers and his, heedless of anything but the need to be inside her as quickly as possible. He managed to get her trousers open and down off her hips, and his own open, releasing his hard shaft, then he lifted her onto it, shoved it into her and began thrusting.

Ana wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding onto his armor-clad shoulders, thinking hazily that this was the first time he had ever made love to her without taking off his lorica. It was interesting - like being taken by some strange, warlike creature - highly erotic. She moaned and fisted her hands in his red cloak, climaxing very hard very quickly. She yelled out her pleasure, but was shortly silenced by his impassioned kiss. He panted and growled hoarsely, then rammed very deeply into her and shuddered as he reached his own climax, pouring himself into her. He kissed her; murmuring his pleasure into her ear, face against her neck.

Ana wriggled, loving having him still inside her, but uncomfortable with the tree bark pressing into her spine. "Let me down," she asked softly. He complied, pulling out of her to stand looking at her with half-lidded eyes. She chuckled, "I think I've created a monster," she said.

Maximus nodded, "Oh, you have, little Venus, you most definitely have." He caught up the trailing hem of his cloak and flipped it and his tunic back so she could see that he was still aroused, still hard and erect. At her wide-eyed look, he gave her a predatory smile and advanced toward her. "Come here," he ordered, "I'm not finished with you yet."

Ana whirled and started to run, laughing. He caught up to her after a few steps, grabbed her up and carried her to where some pine boughs and thick grass cushioned the ground, then knelt down with her. Kissing her deeply, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth mimicking what his cock had been doing only moments before, he held her tightly, putting her onto her back and straddling her. He lifted his face, took in a couple of ragged breaths and lowered himself between her thighs. Taking hold of his shaft with one hand, he parted her moist folds with the other and guided himself into her. She was slippery with his seed and her own juices, and he slid inside easily.

Ana gave him a smoldering look, which spurred him on, and he began thrusting, grunting each time he hilted himself inside her moist sheath. She dug her nails into his upper arms, holding onto them to keep from being banged up against a rock that was right behind her head. She wrapped her legs around his hips and moaned as she felt his balls slapping her buttocks. He stared down into her eyes, then took her mouth in a kiss as devastating as what he was doing with his lower body. She was totally taken over by him, her body spasming around his plunging flesh, experiencing a kind of rolling, continuous orgasm as he drove her past anything she could ever have imagined herself capable of feeling. She could hear herself groaning hoarsely, encouraging him with disjointed words in Latin and Egyptian, and all the while he never stopped pounding into her. When she had convulsed around him, he gave a great shudder and began to climax, filling her with his hot seed.

He crouched over her, panting for a few moments before he rolled to one side, aware enough that if he collapsed against her while wearing his armor that he would hurt her. "Gods, little one," he muttered when he had his breath back. "What have you done to me?"

Ana turned onto her side, facing him, grinning. "I've put a spell on you," she teased him. She reached out to him and he kissed her fingers, laughing with her. "As you have on me."

He sat up, laced up his trousers and got to his feet, pulling her up after him. He helped her right her clothing and picked dried leaves out of her hair, as she did for him, until they regained relative respectability in appearance. With her mouth swollen from kisses, however, and the skin of her face and throat red from where his beard had scraped her, it was obvious what she had been doing. "It's not fair," she pouted, "you have no marks on you to show what you've done."

He laughed in delight, then leaned close until their faces were almost touching, "What would you do, send me back to the head of the column with bite marks all over me?"

"It's a thought," she teased him.

He gave her a playful swat on the behind and lifted her onto Scarto's back, swiftly mounting and turning the horse back toward the marching column that was Felix III. "I'd rather you didn't," he told her as they cantered along, "I'm sure it wouldn't help me appear leader-like and brave."

"You don't need any help with that," she shot back. "Kiss me." She pulled on his cloak until, laughing, he complied. She loved kissing him - he was very good at it, and she always felt thoroughly possessed by him. "I want more kisses tonight," she whispered as they drew even with Erato's wagon.

Before Maximus could respond, she had taken her father's hand and was once again seated on the wagon. "Until later," she called to him.

"Until later," he agreed, and sped ahead, intent on catching up with the Wolf's Bane unit. Perhaps some hard riding (on a horse this time) would take some of the edge off the lust that seemed to have taken him over this day. When he galloped up to Antoninus and challenged him and several other officers to race ahead and catch up to the scouts that were a mile or more in front of the legion, they all sped off in a jingling of harness and armor, the horses glad to break free of the endless slow pace of a legion on the march. The scouts were almost two miles ahead, but the extra run was exhilarating, so he welcomed it. Scarto led much of the way, but because he had already been run fairly hard, Maximus pulled him back and allowed Antoninus to win on his sleek gray. "Very good," Maximus panted, when they had pulled up and sat their heaving mounts, grinning at one another.

"Just think, sir," Antoninus said, "if the whole legion was nothing but cavalry units, how swiftly we would reach Hispania!"

Maximus nodded, laughing, though that struck a chord within him that would occupy his mind in the coming days. "Ninus," he spoke to the Centurion as they trotted back to the advancing legion, "what would you think of a specialized cavalry unit?"

"Specialized, sir? How so?"

"Hmm, say, in lighter armor, for one thing, and perhaps with specialized weapons and different harness for the horses. Would not a light cavalry be more maneuverable in some of the odd places we're likely to find ourselves in Hispania, for instance?"

"It would be," Antoninus agreed, his brain already clicking away, imagining just what changes he would make to the harness and equipment. "Leather tunics with chain mail, for instance - they're much lighter and more flexible than solid metal."

Maximus nodded. He gestured to the others to ride closer and they discussed the pros and cons of such a unit the whole way back. "Think on this more over the next day or so, gentlemen," he asked them, "I want to hear your thoughts and ideas - no matter how farfetched you may think they are. New situations call for new tactics and new ideas - I want Felix III and Wolf's Bane to be at the forefront of such changes."

He took his leave of the others as they met the oncoming troops and turned around to retrace their steps. "We halt in half an hour," he called to them, "see to it." Then he galloped back to ride beside Drusus and outline what they had been discussing. "I know you ride like a centaur, Drusus, so I want you to work with Antoninus on the equipment and arms. What say you?"

Drusus, his normally calm mein excited for once, nodded, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased to!"

"Good," Maximus said, touching his aide's shoulder, "I look forward to hearing your ideas. We will speak of it day after tomorrow." He cantered on down the advancing lines, greeting his men, smiling and joking with the officers and seasoned men that he knew personally, controlling Scarto with one hand and gesturing in a friendly manner with the other hand. Drusus envied him his ease of command, especially given the long hiatus between Germania and now. He wondered if he would ever have such ease himself. Somehow, he doubted it.

The entire column slowed to a halt shortly and began the business of setting up their camp. There was large nearby stream with plenty of fresh, though icy, water. The order came from General Maximus himself that they would camp two days to allow the men to rest, and a cheer went up from each quarter of the encampment as that order made its way from century to century. A longer stop meant they could cook more complicated food, actually draw water to be heated for bathing, and even hunt the nearby woods for game to supplement the dried and pickled foods and plain grain bread that was their normal fare. Perhaps the stream even had fish in it - some of the younger soldiers were sent to sit on the river bank with fishing lines to see what they could catch.

While the cooks worked and the tents were set up, Maximus met briefly with his officers and went over plans for the next several days. "We rest here tonight and tomorrow night, I think the men will march all the better for it. Then we will begin the ascent into the foothills of the mountains. That will be difficult, but only think - once we get there, we turn west and shortly south again, and then will be that much closer to Hispania and warmer weather." Everyone smiled, imagining that. "I know warmer weather sounds wonderful," Maximus went on, "but be assured, we are in for much more cold as we cross the mountains, so be sure everyone has adequate furs, cloaks and the like. Also, I want no man marching in worn out boots - there are stores of new boots in the wagons, see to it that anyone in need is issued them." The business done, he bid them all goodnight, and let his staff see to arranging the sentries around the perimeter of the camp, and rode slowly back to the stabling area.

He greeted the young soldiers who were mustering the horses, and turned Scarto over to the chief of them. "See that he's rubbed down and fed well, he went extra miles for me today," he ordered.

"No problem, sir," the young man said, patting the still restive black stallion. "I'll take excellent care of him for you."

Maximus nodded, "Good lad," and strode off toward the center of the camp where the Praetorium was already set up. He returned the salutes of the guards, and went to his tent, happy to remove the cloak with the wolf pelts, and the lorica. "Gods," he groaned, stretching in relief. "It always feels so good to take that off," he handed the armor to Drusus, who placed it on its stand and quickly rubbed it with a towel to get off any moisture that might tarnish or otherwise damage it. The helmet he tossed onto the map table before sitting down to remove his boots. When Drusus made to help him, he waved him off. "I can do this for myself, see to getting our food before I decide to just gnaw on one of these boots."

Drusus put on his cloak and left just as Ana came in carrying her medicine chest and some scrolls. She went over for a kiss, and set her things down on the table. "Brr, your nose is cold," she teased Maximus.

"It is," he agreed, "but the rest of me is very warm, indeed." He sent her a meaningful look that made her giggle. She went into their bed chamber, peeking back around the flap of the doorway to give him a come hither look. "We haven't enough time, Drusus will be back with our food," he told her.

Ana didn't answer, just beckoned with a waggle of her fingers. Unable to resist, Maximus followed her. He had no sooner stepped through the doorway when she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him over to the bed. Lying down upon it, she urged him on, "If you're fast enough, he'll never know, and I want you right now."

"Gods," he muttered, then was yanked down onto the bed with her and thoroughly though swiftly ravished by his lascivious little wife. It was hot and intense and quickly over, so they had righted their clothing and were engaged in innocently examining the map to see where they were by the time Drusus returned with the food for their meal. "Hit and run tactics," he told Ana while Drusus was putting the plates on the table.

"Yes, something you should be familiar with as a cavalry officer," she murmured.

He snorted with laughter, earning a startled look from his aide. "It's nothing," he told Drusus, "carry on with your work, we're all starving, I'm sure." To Ana, who had slid her hand into his lap under cover of the table, he merely gave an intense look that promised much - later.

When her plate was put in front of her, she laughed and stopped tormenting him. "Later," she agreed, chewing the roast chicken and licking her fingers, "I'll hold you to that."

He had no doubts on that score.
 

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Copyright 2001 by wildbearies