©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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A courier brought news from Rome a week after their huge argument. Maximus was down by the new stables, supervising the fitting out of the box stalls for his prized mares. The courier, unused to finding a Roman general - former military governor of the province, for the gods' sakes - in plain, serviceable garments, his face streaked with dust, talking with his slaves as if they were equals. When he commented on it to the steward, he was informed that General Maximus owned no slaves - they were all either freedmen or freeborn Roman citizens. Puzzling in the extreme - the courier was mystified by such odd behavior. But, it was his duty to deliver the imperial summons, not to judge the recipient of it. He saluted, handed over the scroll that dripped with imperial seals and gratefully accepted the general's offer of a refreshing drink, food and overnight lodging.

"I thank you, General," the young officer said, saluting, "I've been on the road since - well - I can't recall when I left the port." He had disembarked from the ship from Italy, and ridden across Hispania, changing horses at various garrisons along the way. Cassius, the house steward, led him off to get him settled in a guest room.

Maximus studied the big scroll. He hadn't received any such document in a long time, and couldn't help feeling that this one boded no particular good. If Septimius Severus wanted him for something, it could only be to finally eliminate him from any claim to the Imperial throne - highly unlikely at this very late date - or to have him do something in conjunction with his former duties in the army. Highly likely. Maximus sighed and broke the seals with his thumbnail. He walked to a nearby bench and sat down to read, unfurling the scroll as he walked.

He read it through twice, sighed even more deeply, rolled it back up and handed it to Antoninus, who was visiting from his property a few miles down the road. "What is it?" his former aide and long time friend asked. Maximus, beyond rational speech at that moment, merely gestured for him to read it. When he finished, Antoninus looked up, puzzlement writ all over his face. "Will you go?" he asked his former commander.

"I don't see that I have much choice - though I dislike going anywhere on military business at this late date, especially north now that winter is setting in."

"I know you have no great liking for the snows of Gaul and Germania," Antoninus said with a smile. It was true - and somehow, Maximus had ended up commanding the northern army and always either in Germania or Gaul, hip deep in snow in the winters. "At least this is Gaul and not Germania," he added.

Maximus nodded, running his hands through his hair, leaving it disordered. "I'll have to get things in order here before I can depart - 'Ninus, I don't suppose you'd consider going?"

Antoninus, a widower whose children were grown and settled on property of their own, had nothing really binding him to his farm; nevertheless he didn't relish leaving with winter setting in. However - it had been a long time since he'd done anything remotely interesting. "Yes, I'd go," he found himself saying.

"Good," Maximus pronounced, grinning at his friend, "you'll be my second in command - Tribune Antoninus Metellus."

"That has a very nice ring to it," Antoninus replied, grinning back. "I'd best get going - see what I need that I don't have. When do you think you will leave?"

"As soon as the escort gets here. They're about four days behind the courier - so, say, first of next week."

"All right - I shall be ready." Antoninus got his horse and left, thinking life was getting interesting again.

As for Maximus, he wandered into the house, still bemused by this strange turn in his life. A trip to northern Gaul to put down a mutiny in units of the Fifth Victrix Legion - he supposed his success years before with the mutinous auxiliary legion in Emerita had brought him to Severus' mind now for this job.

"Heigh-ho, General of the Armies," he said to himself, walking with his head down, planning a mile a minute.

"General of the Armies?" he heard, and stopped, looking up to find his wife standing in his path, curiosity oozing out of her. "This following on top of a courier still bearing the dust of the road from the sea - what is going on, Maximus?"

He handed her the scroll, "Read for yourself," he said, not unkindly, stepped around her and went into this office.

Things were still very strained between them, as he imagined they would be for some time yet. Except now he would be gone. Perhaps it was for the best - except he would miss the children, and especially the baby, whom he already loved fiercely. He sat at the work table that was his desk and made a list of things he needed to do and another of things he would need to take, and yet a third of miscellany that occurred to him and didn't fit either list. He finished and sat thinking, staring at the map of the Empire on the opposite wall. He had put enamel-headed pins in the map wherever he had served or fought. Most of them were in the north, although he had been in North Africa for a short time as a very new centurion. He disliked the prospect of Africa even more - so he guessed Gaul wasn't the worst thing.

A knock sounded on his door. "Come in," he called and stretched, getting up to ease the muscles of back and legs. Watching his petite but buxom, red-haired wife, he could almost forget they were not dealing well with one another. Almost. "I see you've read it," he commented, judging from the look on her face that the contents of the scroll didn't please her.

"They want you to go north with winter coming? Is the emperor light in the head?"

He chuckled, "I'd ask the same thing myself, but things apparently have gotten to a pretty pass if he's digging up long-retired officers such as myself to try and fix them."

"Hmmf," she tutted, handing him back the scroll. "He knows very well that you're fit and intelligent - and the right person for the job. Besides, the perks are very compelling."

"Land in Gaul?" he commented, "Vineyards, acres of barley and hops? I have to admit it is compelling - but I like my property here very well, Ana - and I'd be loath to leave it for months at a time to run a farm a thousand miles away."

"So put a good steward on it and people you trust and just visit once a year - seems logical to me." She sat in the chair on the other side of his desk. "I will be sorry to have you gone over the winter," she finally said after one or two false starts.

He sat and regarded her impassively, although his insides clenched whenever he looked at her and remembered what he had done. "I should think," he said carefully, "that you would be happy to see the back of me for awhile."

He was right, she thought, she should be happy to have him go, but the prospect of it didn't make her happy at all. He would be gone over the winter. There would be nobody to speak to other than the household servants and the children. There would be nobody in the bed with her at night - although she reminded herself that particular prospect shouldn't have mattered so much given the state of affairs between them. Affairs - the right term. Was one time an affair? "I'm not pleased," she finally said after turning all these thoughts over in her mind. "I'm not pleased at all."

Maximus rubbed his face, idly noting the streaks of dust that came off onto his palms. No wonder the courier had looked at him so strangely. He smiled a little. No doubt the youngster thought him a very unusual general indeed to be right in the thick of the daily workings of his farm, to the point that he was just as dirty as the workers. He said as much to Ana, who laughed. He enjoyed hearing it. It was the first real laugh he'd heard from her in days. He refrained from commenting on it, though, sure she would stop if he did.

"I must see to my uniforms," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll see you at the evening meal," he tossed over his shoulder, and left her there in his office.

Angry as she might be at Maximus, Ana did not particularly want him gone for months on end. Especially she didn't want him gone to the north, exposed to the rigors of a Gallic winter. She had fretted over him every winter since his recovery after the Colosseum, knowing that the pneumonia he'd had must have weakened his lungs, almost positive that prolonged exposure to cold would not be good for him. She had practically wrapped him head to toe in warm garments on the march down to Emerita when he took over as Military Governor. And she would not be along now to do the same. Could she depend upon whomever he took along as aide to do it?

She left his office determined to find out who that would be.

By sunset, she was no further enlightened than she had been that morning. Frustrated, she decided to just ask Maximus at supper. When they were seated - for he still disdained to recline on a couch and eat after the fashion of the Patrician nobility in Rome - she waited until he was finished with his meat to ask. "Will you take an aide along?"

He nodded, drank some watered wine and added, "Yes - I'm just not sure who yet. There are several possibilities."

"I'm naturally concerned that you have an experienced man," she explained.

His lips quirked in a grin, "Ana, you're naturally concerned that whoever it is know to smother me in woolen garments and pack hot bricks in my bed at night - admit it."

"Well, what if I am? You know you're subject to taking a chill - if you were to catch lung fever again, it could be very bad."

He sighed. Although he was touched that she would still worry about that after all this time, and after their recent estrangement, it galled him a little to have her think he suffered some sort of weakness. "Cara," he said, using the endearment out of long habit, "I've been through many and many a cold winter here since we arrived yea these long years ago - I have yet to fade away and cough myself to death."

"I realize that - but this is Gaul, and winters in Gaul are much damper, much colder, and with much more snow on the ground. Surely I needn't remind you of that."

He shook his head, "No, you don't. I remember it quite well. I will dress warmly - I will dress so warmly I'll be the envy of all who see me - does that put your mind at rest?"

"Don't be flippant, it doesn't put my mind at rest at all, it only makes me think you will ignore my warnings at the first opportunity."

He studied her. "Ana - what is this all about? A few days ago you were ready to unman me at the very least, or see me painfully dead at the most. Now you tell me you are worried I'll catch the sniffles in Gaul. I believe I am justly confused here."

"It's more than the sniffles," she responded, "and you know it very well. Don't you remember how ill you were?"

"Yes, but I was wounded as well - that's not likely to happen again."

"Why, do you have some magical armor now? Anyone can wound anyone if they try hard enough."

Exasperated, he slapped his empty wine cup down on the table, "Ana, I will take every sensible precaution, and that will have to be the end of this conversation. I fear you'd worry even if I were sealed in an airtight chest and wrapped in layers of wool. Now stop this needless fretting."

She slapped her own cup down and got to her feet. "It isn't needless, but I see you are determined to make me worry. Perhaps you will at least let me pack for you - choose the warmest garments."

"I would if I could trust you not to put pins in the seams of my tunics and snakes in my drawers."

"Ohhh," she snarled in frustration, "you are the most exasperating man!"

"I thought you wanted me gone - this will grant that part of your wish," he retorted.

"I wanted you to feel what I felt when you told me about - her." She couldn't bring herself to mention the other woman's name yet - she was still too angry over it. "I wanted you to suffer. I did not, much as you might disbelieve me, want you dead."

"Well, I won't be - so stop worrying. I'm taking 'Ninus along, and I will choose a good, experienced aide from the garrison in Emerita - we pass through there on the way north. Now stop worrying and calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down, I want to be angry!" she shouted at him. She also flung the empty wine cup, but he snatched it deftly out of mid-air and set it safely back on the table. "I want you gone, do you hear me? Gone." She stalked out of the room, leaving Maximus and Gemma, who had just come in at the end of their exchange, staring after her.

"Master?" Gemma asked, "May I do anything for you?"

He shook his head, "No - unless you have a miracle in one of your pockets, and can turn the hourglass back to before I made a very costly error in judgment."

"No, sir, I don't - I am sorry."

He patted her gnarled hand when she reached for his empty plate, "That's all right, Gemma, you would if you could." He pushed his chair back, "And now, I must go examine my clothing, see what's suitable and what I need and can get on short notice.

She gazed after him, looking sad. If she could, she surely would, she thought to herself, turn back the hourglass to before the Augusta got her hooks in him. Before master Lucius was even conceived, she thought, she would turn time back that far and change all of it. She wondered how things would be in that case.

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Copyright 2002 by wildbearies

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