©2002 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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Thirty Five

He was flummoxed. What German barbarians, mad Commodus, fierce gladiatorial opponents, and even the rebellious deserters from the auxiliary legions couldn't accomplish, one small, red-haired woman with blue eyes had managed.

Valerian and Lucilla together hadn't troubled him as much as Ana had in the past month.

Maximus sat on a low stone wall near the stables, drinking wine, contemplating the ups and downs of married life. The cup was empty too soon. Typical. He set it down morosely and sighed. There was nothing else to do, he was going to have to go inside for the evening meal. He didn't relish it.

That morning she had thrown bread rolls at him. Thrown them! He still couldn't credit it - all he had done was sit down to break his fast after saying good morning to her and she had heaved half a dozen rolls at his head. Several of them had missed, but the rest had found their targets, thumping him on the face before falling onto the table. "Ana?!?" he had exclaimed in shock.

"Well, at least that got your attention!" she had snapped, and then burst into noisy tears, rushing from the room, leaving a very confused husband behind.

Gemma had come in just then carrying a tray of baked fruit. "Sir?" she asked in surprise, "you have half a bread roll on your shoulder."

He glanced down. Sure enough, he did. He removed it and set it carefully on the table. "Gemma, your mistress seems somewhat, um, distraught this morning."

She set the tray down in front of him and served him, talking as she spooned apricots and peaches into a dish for him. "Sir, she is very irritable lately - I had wondered if, perhaps, she might be - uh - in the family way?"

His was a trifle embarrassed by her openness, but he nodded in agreement, "Yes, I suppose that could be it." He remembered Selene's being a totally different person at the beginning of her pregnancy. Keeping track of his wife's physical cycles wasn't something he did, however. He had far too much to do otherwise. He commented as to that to Gemma, who nodded respectfully. "Perhaps I should just ask her," he mused aloud.

"I'd wait a bit," she suggested with a smile.

Maximus smiled back, "Yes, that sounds like a good idea - are you sure you didn't study military tactics, Gemma?"

The old woman colored and giggled, responding that, no, she hadn't. "But I've supervised a staff of young women for years, sir - they're not that different from one another."

Busy eating the delicious fruit, he could only nod. After breakfast he rode Scarto outside the city walls to watch the Wolf's Bane unit drill. The temptation to join in was irresistible, so he shortly found himself wheeling and galloping along with Drusus and the other centurions as they put the elite cavalry through its paces. Exhilarated and windblown, he rode home for the midday meal.

He came in grinning, understandably leaving some dusty boot prints in his wake. He paused at a small sideboard and drank a cup of icy well water. He left his helmet and cloak on a bench nearby and strode into the triclinium. He was ravenous. As he seated himself and gestured to a servant that he wanted to eat, he heard Ana's angry voice raised. "What dusty pig has tracked up this clean floor?" she demanded.

Maximus heard the deferential response of whatever servant was unfortunate enough to be close to her. "The general?" she then exclaimed, "That figures." She came into the triclinium like a little storm at sea, leaving red-faced servants, upset workmen and a wave of unhappiness in her wake. She brandished his helmet at him, "This does not belong in the atrium!"

He sighed in resignation. The servant placing thick slices of roasted pork on his plate speeded up, obviously wanting out of the room before there was another food throwing incident. Maximus forestalled the man's panicked actions by calmly putting a hand on his wrist and giving him a reassuring smile. "It will be all right," he murmured.

"Well," Ana demanded, still waving his helmet in the air. "Where does this belong?" Her dark red brows were drawn down in a scowl and her face was livid.

Maximus peacefully invited her to be seated and have lunch.

"I do not want lunch!" She heaved the helmet onto the floor where it landed with a clank, acquiring a dent in one side in the process. "And you've left dirty foot prints all through the house." She had her hands on her hips, bosom heaving in indignation.

Maximus dismissed the servant, who practically ran from the room, and turned back to his red-faced spouse. "Ana, we need to talk."

She sneered. "There is nothing to talk about!" She turned on her heel and stalked off before he could get up and stop her.

Sighing, he cut the tender roast meat and dipped it in the small bowl of garum by his plate. He thought long and hard all through his meal, but could come to no solution about how best to handle this termagant who seemed to have taken over the body of his usually adorable wife.

That question bedeviled him all afternoon, even when he was meeting with his officers and with the city fathers over various building projects, legislations, trade agreements and the like. Ana's scowling, angry face would intrude and break his concentration. He began to dread going home at the end of the day. His officers noted his preoccupation but put it down to the level of work he had to do. And of course, there was always the former Augusta Lucilla and her house guest, who, it turned out, wasn't an outlaw at all but a Praetorian officer working for General Licinius Gaeta. At least, she was no longer resident in his quarters but had leased a small villa on the outskirts of Emerita until such time as Valerian, Gaeta and Maximus had dealt with the outlaw situation.

He worked until just before sunset, finally dismissing his officers and walking through the neat rows of tents to his house. Hearing Ana's voice raised in contentious tones to someone, he had poured himself a quick cup of wine and gone outside to sit on the wall, contemplating the vagaries of women. The cup was now as empty as his stomach, he supposed there was nothing for it but to go inside and beard the lioness in her den. He smiled to himself at that mental image, brushed dust off his tunic and boots, and went in through the kitchen.

Gemma, who had seen the general sitting outside with his wine cup, spoke up as he passed, "The meal is ready, sir - you have only to order us to begin serving."

He acknowledged her with a wave and went into the main part of the house. It was blessedly silent. He climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom, also silent. There was a small heap of something on the bed that he took for bedclothes in the dimly lit room. When his step rang on the tiles, however, the heap stirred and he realized it was Ana.

"Cara?" he said in a low voice. "Are you hungry? Gemma says supper is ready." It was unusual for her to be lying down at this time of day. He crossed to the bed and sat on the edge of it opposite where she lay. Normally he would have reached for her, but was afraid - given recent actions - that she might slap his hand away, so he didn't. "Cara?" he repeated.

"I'm not hungry," she said in a low voice. She sounded hoarse and he realized she'd been weeping.

That overcame any worries about being snapped at, and he moved around to sit beside her, resting his hand on the curve of her hip. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Ana sniffled and sat up, and he touched her face, lightly caressing her chapped skin. "Come, love," he urged her, and drew her onto his lap. He cuddled her and rocked back and forth with her for a few minutes until she took a deep breath and sighed. "Feel like talking now?"

She nodded, her silky hair brushing his arms. "I feel like a demon has taken me over, Maximus - it's horrible."

"How so?" he asked, resting his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the flower scent of her hair.

"I shout at everyone - I threw your helmet at you! I don't know what's wrong with me - I just want to scream."

He thought about that and about what Gemma had suggested earlier. "Cara, when did you last have your courses?"

She was silent for so long that he thought perhaps she'd fallen asleep, but then he realized her body was shaking and he lifted her face with a finger under her chin so he could see. She wasn't weeping as he had thought, but was laughing. Indeed, she was laughing so much by then that tears of mirth were leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, not having expected that particular reaction.

"I'm so dense," she finally said, stopping to laugh harder. "I totally lost track." She sat up and beamed at him, wiping her face on the sleeve of his tunic.

"Do you need a handkerchief?" he asked teasingly, but didn't pull his sleeve away from her. After all, it was only tears. "Lost track of what?" he finally asked.

"The months." She was still beaming, and, she finally let him in on the secret. "Maximus - I believe I'm pregnant."

He grinned widely, hugging her tight. "I thought so - Gemma thought so, actually - cara, this is wonderful news!"

"No wonder I've felt so out of touch with myself," she mused aloud. "Silly me - thinking I was possessed. Although, in a way, I am." She put both hands on her still-flat belly as if imagining it curved with their child.

"How do you mean?" he asked, resting his hand over hers, feeling a great joy singing inside him.

"Well, I am possessed - by our child and not a demon - although perhaps he has a bad temper - I did throw your helmet at you."

"And the rolls, don't forget that," he teased her. "Maybe he doesn't like bread."

She giggled and snuggled into his arms. He had to admit, he liked her much better this way, sweet and affectionate as she usually was. "What if he is a she?" she asked after a bit.

"Well, then maybe she does have a temper - just like her mother." She punched him in the upper arm for that and he pretended it hurt. "Let's go eat - you need to keep your strength up."

She gave him a lewd smile that made his groin tighten, "So do you."

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Copyright 2002 by wildbearies