©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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Antoninus was positive that the legion was being shadowed as they continued their march toward Emerita Augusta. He voiced his concerns to General Maximus, who he found agreed wholeheartedly with him. "I feel it, also," Maximus said, "eyes staring a hole into my back."

"Good thing it's eyes and not the point of an arrow," Antoninus joked.

Maximus agreed with him. He met with his officers the fourth day after returning from his brief captivity. They had paused long enough to have funeral rites for Erato and the soldiers killed in the skirmish before resuming their march southward. "I feel the bandits or rebels or whatever they call themselves are following every move we make," he told them. "I plan on implementing some of the special tactics I have had Centurion Antoninus working on and sending scouts ranging farther afield to see if we can determine just who is following us and how many there are."

He and Antoninus spoke of what they had been doing, and then he dismissed everyone except the centurions of Wolf's Bane. "I want thirty men with light packs, wearing the special garb, and I want them to melt into the woods and find out who is watching us. I don't want any confrontations unless it's unavoidable, and I want Antoninus to be in charge of these special troops. I want the men and horses well rested, so they will alternate duties and rest so that no man or horse is in the field longer than half a day without coming back for relief." Maximus continued with his orders and then dismissed the officers. Antoninus paused in the doorway of the command tent, grinning, "So Wolf's Bane begins," he said.

"Indeed, be stealthy my friend." Maximus returned the young man's salute, then gathered his maps and put on his cloak. It was full dark, late at night, and he was hungry. He made his way across the praetorium to his tent into the light and warmth. Ana greeted him with a smile, taking the bundle of maps from him. "I could eat a rock, I'm so hungry," he commented.

"Well, we're out of rocks," his wife informed him, looking into the small kettle bubbling on the brazier. "I believe this is mutton stew."

"I had my heart set on rocks," Maximus teased, letting Drusus assist him with his cloak and with the buckles of his lorica. With both arms sore, doing that for himself was somewhat of a chore. "Thank you," he murmured, stretching, glad to be free of the weight of the armor, even more glad that it was the leather and not the steel he was wearing. "Drusus, I've been thinking that you're wasted as my aide."

The young man looked up, surprised dismay written on his face. "Sir, have I done something wrong?"

Maximus reassured him, "No, not at all! I should have been more diplomatic." He gestured Drusus into a chair and explained, "I've been talking with Antoninus, and it seems you are a horseman of some note. I just feel perhaps you should be in charge of a century of cavalry rather than my laundry."

Drusus grinned, "It's a bit more than your laundry, sir, and sometimes it seems like being in charge of a hundred soldiers."

They laughed, but then Maximus explained, "You know we've got some ideas - some rather revolutionary ideas - for specialized troops - light horse rather than the more heavily armed cavalrymen we normally use, and soldiers who not only can ride, but can be stealthy, who are able to melt into their surroundings when necessary, and who can outsmart some of the outlaws at their own game. I think you would be very useful to me - to Rome - in that sort of position."

Drusus, clearly taken by surprise, wasn't sure what he wanted. "May - may I think about it, sir?" He enjoyed being Maximus' aide, but to be able to command a century in Wolf's Bane would be something special, indeed.

"Of course," Maximus agreed. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like my stew before I settle for chewing on the edge of the table."

Before going to bed that night, Maximus knelt in front of his portable altar, joined by Ana, and together they prayed for Erato - Maximus by asking his gods to give him rest, and Ana by asking hers to watch over him according to her own beliefs. After blowing out the tiny lamps and closing the doors of the altar, Maximus took Ana in his arms and held her without saying anything. He knew she was sad over her father's death, but that she believed he was even now living in the afterlife, freed of his mortal body, reunited with her mother and other family members. She turned and gave him a small smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're looking tired, let's go to bed."

Instead of letting Ana get to her feet, Maximus simply picked her up, rose to his feet, and carried her to their bed, tucking her under the blankets and furs, then climbing in beside her. "Your father was a fine man," he said, "between you, I owe my life to you."

Ana smiled and pulled him close. "I love you, Maximus."

Her low, throaty voice sent a thrill down to his toes. "You do?" he asked, as if he didn't already know.

"I do," she said firmly. "I wish we were already in Emerita Augusta, and it was spring and warm, and I was carrying our child - "

Maximus interrupted her with a tender kiss. "Don't wish your life away, little Venus - we'll be there soon enough, and soon enough our children will be underfoot, and you may wish sometimes to just be the two of us, as we are now."

"No," she said, "I'm positive that I won't wish that. But I do cherish our moments of privacy." She slid her hands down his body, then up beneath his wool shirt. "I cherish you."

His arms tightened around her, "As I do you." He sighed, slipping rapidly into sleep.

Ana smiled ruefully, thinking "Ah, well, another day." She listened as his heartbeat slowed and his breathing evened out, eventually joining him in slumber.

He was up and gone before dawn, seeing to the breaking of the camp and resumption of the march south. It was overcast and damp, the wind cuttingly cold as it rushed through the rows of tents. The soldiers worked doubly hard as the tent canvas whipped about like the sails of ships caught in a gale at sea. It was midmorning before they got underway, but they were glad to be going south, hoping the weather would clear a bit. By noon, the snowfall slowed, and the legion managed a much longer trek before stopping to make camp.

Maximus was tireless, riding up and down the long lines of men and horses, encouraging the troops as they slogged through the snow, urging the cavalry units on, praising the men in charge of the extra mounts and the heavy wagons, seeming to be in many places at once. He changed from Belarus to Scarto after a few hours, Belarus puffing and blowing from galloping up and down the lines of marching troops. Ana saw him at a distance several times, but he was so busy, she didn't want to take his time, so she only waved when he did, riding in the wagon that was now hers - a refitted baggage conveyance that Varrus drove, managing the team of heavy horses with relative ease.

It stopped snowing altogether by the time they made camp, but the wind continued to lash the men as they struggled to erect their tents and drive the tent pegs into the frozen ground. "I don't remember it ever being this cold in Hispania in winter," Antoninus commented to Maximus as they led their weary horses to the praetorium. A stableman took the reins from them, quickly leading the horses back for a rubdown and feed.

"I remember some winters like this," Maximus answered, "but none recently. The poor folk will be starving soon if the weather doesn't break."

"Unless we open the granaries at Emerita Augusta," Antoninus suggested.

Maximus nodded, "All the more reason for us to make as swift a journey of it as we can."

Over the next days the weather did clear a bit, allowing for longer marches and they eventually were out of the deep snows and into more normal winter air. There were no further raids on them, but Maximus and his scouts felt the observations were continuing, and he kept his unit of light cavalry in the field every day, circling the marching lines of men, keeping watch for suspicious activity in the countryside around their route.

The day finally arrived when they sighted the walls and aqueduct of Emerita Augusta off in the distance, and they camped the last time, knowing the next day would see an end to their long journey. "I want everyone's armor and weapons shining," Maximus ordered his officers that night, "I want the horses groomed, harness polished, and wagons cleaned of mud. In short, gentlemen," he said, fixing them each in turn with his silver-eyed gaze, "I want to impress upon anyone seeing us enter the gates tomorrow that the end of sloth, rebellion and discord has arrived in the persons of Felix III."

"It will be done, sir," Tribune Donatus answered, to the agreement of everyone else in the tent. Officers scattered to their various units, and shortly the legionaries were engaged in the polishing and shining that Maximus had ordered, not that most of them needed his prompting - they well knew the impression he expected them to give and his orders only reinforced their zeal. All the horses were groomed, even when they had to be finished by torchlight after it grew dark. Meanwhile, the wagons were brushed free of mud, the harness was polished, and everywhere there was a general air of excitement about reaching their new headquarters.

By the time the sun rose, Felix III was assembled, camp struck, units in line, and Maximus gave the order to march. Ana, mounted on Pulcher and riding beside the medical wagon, Varrus driving, knew the extra care Maximus had taken with his appearance that day. He was in his splendid full regimentals - polished lorica inset with brass figures of horses, wolves and Mars, god of war, worn over a deep red wool tunica, the red wool trousers gross-gartered with strips of fine cordovan leather. He wore the shining steel greaves that protected his lower legs, his very best caligae, and his helmet with the red horsehair crest. His magnificent deep red wool cloak, the two luxurious wolf pelts hanging from the shoulders, swept behind him as he galloped Scarto to the front of the column and gave the order to march. As he rode past Ana, he shot her a grin, lifting his arm in salute when she inclined her head to him.

The new military governor of Spain would no doubt impress the daylights out of the local citizens as soon as they saw him. She was so proud of him, so much in love with him, she could hardly stop smiling. Her ivory wool tunica over ivory flannelled wool trousers was a version of the gray uniform the Wolf's Bane men now wore, cut very differently, of course, to fit her small form. Over that she wore a deep blue wool cloak, the hood down since the temperature was above freezing, her russet hair unbound, flowing down over her shoulders almost to her hips. "Its lovely," Maximus had told her, lifting her onto Pulcher's back earlier in the morning, "you will blind all the locals with your looks, cara. They will think their new governor's wife is the goddess Diana."

"As long as they are amenable to your rule," she told him, "they can think what they like of me."

Maximus had adjusted his wrist guards and grinned wryly at her before mounting Scarto. "I assure you, they'll find you impressive," he said. "After all, I do." He rode off, leaving Ana laughing in his wake.

The gates of the city opened to them, and Felix III marched through, into the relatively wide main boulevard that led to the headquarters of the army and military governor. Maximus, riding with his tribunes flanking him, the eagles of the legion borne by the standard bearers right behind him, and the Wolf's Bane cavalry units bringing up the rear, entered ahead of the infantry and the rest of the cavalry. There was a buzz from the local citizens gathered to see the spectacle - these were soldiers much different from the rag-tag auxiliary troops left in the garrison. These were professional soldiers - Roman citizens - disciplined, everything the auxiliary troops were not.

The mayor of Emerita examined Maximus from the crest of his helmet to the tips of his boots, pausing to take in the keen, silver-eyed gaze that missed nothing, and he commented to his wife, "At last, they've sent us a man with some backbone."

His wife, who had examined the figure on the black horse with an entirely different point of view, nevertheless agreed that their new governor was indeed impressive. "Edepol!" she remarked to her maid servant, "Mars has come to live among us."

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Copyright 2001 by wildbearies