©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.
-------------------------------------------------

Maximus and an honor guard consisting of 3 centuries of the Wolf's Bane cavalry, left before dawn the following morning. Ana, who had lain awake all night, surprised him by coming to wish him god speed and luck on his journey.

He smiled at her, resting his palm against her cheek briefly, aware that several interested stares were focused on them. "I will see you soon," he murmured. Drusus gave him a leg up onto Scarto, and he leaned down as the horse curvetted, his red cloak hiding what he did as he kissed his fingers, then pressed them onto her lips. "Don't forget me," he teased.

"As if I could," she answered him, a bit disappointed he didn't tell her about his talk with her father the night before, no doubt because of their very public situation. She waved until the troop had disappeared on the road, then sighed and made her way back to the medical tent. She was tired; her eyes burning with unshed tears and lack of sleep, but knew she would only lie awake if she returned to her bed. Instead, she made herself busy preparing infusions of herbal teas for future use, and jotting some notes on them in her journal. Her father came into the tent, surprised to see her up and about so early.

He sat down to break his fast, and while he ate his bread, gestured to her to sit down with him. "I could not eat," she told him, but found that she was hungry after all and consumed some bread and cheese, followed by a large, ripe pear from a nearby orchard. "The last of the season," she commented.

She felt his eyes on her, and finally stopped staring at the fruit. "You visited General Maximus last night," she said, deciding he wouldn't tell her anything unless she brought it up first. She had expected him to speak with her the night before, but he had come in from his meeting, then immediately gone out again to set the leg of a cavalryman who had been rolled on by a recalcitrant horse.

"I did," Erato said, drinking a long draught of cool spring water. "It was a most interesting discussion, Ana."

She flushed, wondering how much Maximus had told him. "Was it?"

"Don't play coy with me, girl, I know what you've been up to."

It was confusing - his words were accusatory but his tone wasn't. "You do?"

Her father smiled and patted her hand, "Ana, I've known of your feelings for our patient for some time now, I'm not blind, you know."

"Oh. I didn't think you'd noticed." Was she so transparent, or was it just that her father could read her so well because they were so close?

"Yes, well, I had. I must confess that until last night, I had no illusions that anything would come of your feelings except heartache for you, yet, being soft of heart myself, I could not bring myself to tell you that."

"Until - last night?" she asked, her heart beating rapidly.

"He has asked my permission to marry you. It is a great honor."

Ana's smile bloomed and her eyes glowed. Her father remembered her mother looking exactly that way when he had spoken to her father, pressing his suit to marry her. "I cannot help but give my blessing."

Father and daughter hugged for a long time, and Ana floated through her day, pausing now and then to send mental messages to Maximus, wishing she could speak to him to tell him how happy she was.

As for Maximus, he was unaccustomed to long rides, still recuperating from his illness, but nonetheless enjoying the journey to Rome. They rode through the rolling hills, traveling up from Ostia along the Tiber, then into Rome, stopping outside the city walls since the armed cavalrymen were not permitted in the city itself. The Campus Martius was empty of all save their tents, with Maximus' in the center in a sort of Praetorium in miniature. His tent was much more grand than the one in the camp as Ostia, as befitting his renewed status as General of the Northern Armies. He dismounted, glad to be finished with the journey, amused at his fatigued state. Once, he could have ridden many more hours with nothing near the tiredness he felt now. Once, he told himself, you were not as bony as a scarecrow and getting over lung fever. He smiled at himself, startling Drusus, who smiled back. "Come, let's see what wonders are in my tent. Hopefully, a comfortable bed."

Maximus rested for an hour, rising when Drusus touched his shoulder to wake him. "Sir, a summons from the palace. Your presence is requested for dinner."

He groaned, "No doubt some interminable meal interspersed with too much wine and too many loose women." He laughed at Drusus' interested expression, "Perhaps you could go in my place?"

"I think they would notice, sir," his aide responded.

"No doubt. Well, I'd like a bath and clean clothes, please see to that. If I'm being summoned because they want to save time and kill me tonight instead of tomorrow, I'd at least like to be clean."

Drusus looked stricken, then realized Maximus was joking with him. "Oh, yes sir, I see." He unpacked clean linen and towels from the general's chests and took it into the small alcove where Maximus would dress. "Sir, do you really think this is all just a ruse to get you where the Praetorians can kill you?"

Standing in just his dusty tunic and flannelled drawers, Maximus grinned at the young man. "Drusus, anything is possible. Why, look at me, if you don't believe it. Only a few weeks ago, I was dead."

They laughed together, then a hip bath was brought and hot water for bathing. Maximus removed the last of his garments and sank gratefully into the steaming water while Drusus left to give him privacy for his bath. The water soothed his tired limbs and aching muscles, and he sat awhile, just letting it relax him before scrubbing to remove the dust of the road. He remembered when he was first brought to Proximo's school in Zucchabar and he hadn't been allowed a bath for weeks. He shuddered in revulsion, remembering the caked blood, pus, sweat and dirt that had covered him from his wounded shoulder and the long trip across the desert to Zucchabar from Spain. Then, a warm bath had seemed a distant dream, a luxury he might never enjoy again.

Drusus piled towels on a stool by the tub for him, draping a large one over the general's shoulders as he rose from the bath, feeling refreshed and relaxed. "Thank you, I can dry myself," he murmured, never having been one to take advantage of an aide for personal tasks that he could do for himself. Once he was dried off, he put some of the balm Ana had given him on the skin of his chest, which was still reddened and irritated from her searing camphor poultices. He would not complain of the treatment, however, they had started him on the road to recovery.

He donned a clean ivory wool tunic with edgings of gold thread at the hems, neck and sleeves, then ivory flannelled wool trousers since it was nearly winter and he was cold. He cross-gartered them with strips of white leather, donning new gray boots made for him in Ostia. Drusus helped him with the gray leather body armor that he would wear over the padded arming tunic, fastening the buckles, adjusting the shoulder segments and the leather lappets that, in a more practical application, would serve to protect his thighs and groin from weapon strikes, deflecting them from his flesh with their metal studding. In a circumstance such as this, the only weapon strikes would be a sword cleaving off his head, or a knife between the segments of the lorica straight into his heart, so the silvered and gilt studs were purely for show. The breastplate was decorated with the wolf's head of the Wolf's Bane cavalry which he had adopted as his own insignia, and he wore the Felix Legion's medallion over it on a heavy gold linked chain.

Drusus adjusted the last of the buckles, then fastened the new red cloak in place, adjusting two magnificent wolf pelts at the shoulders so the tails hung past his waist in the back, and the fierce muzzles in the front, one at either shoulder. He belted on the sword belt and scabbard, adding Maximus' own well-used sword, though it would be confiscated at the palace since nobody but the Praetorians could carry weapons in the presence of the emperor. "Sir," Drusus informed him, "you look very smart." He adjusted one last fold of the cloak, fussing with it so it was perfect.

"Just so I still look that way when I return tonight, " Maximus joked with him, "and I don't just make a very well-dressed corpse." He walked outside to breathe in the crisp early winter air.

It was dark, only the flares of the torches lighting the Praetorium. The guards snapped to attention, saluting him, to which he nodded absently, amused by his complete change in circumstances since the summer. He strode back and forth, impatient to be gone so he could be done with ceremony and rest. Drusus, who was accompanying him, emerged from the tent, garbed in his dress regimentals, then their horses were led up and they were off, accompanied by three officers from the Praetorians who had been sent for just that purpose. Antoninus was also with them, Maximus feeling that he was far safer with two aides to watch over him than just the one.

The crested helmet pressed uncomfortably on his brow, but he left it on, rather than carry it. The dapple gray horse was not one he had trained, and it was taking all his concentration to control the nervous animal, which shied at every noise and movement. By the time they arrived at the palace, he was glad to dismount. "If I didn't need him to ride back later," Maximus said dryly, "I'd tell you to take that beast out and let the first person with five sesterces have him."

Antoninus scowled at the horse, thinking he would retrain the beast himself before allowing his general to ride him again, then they were escorted into the palace. A very polite major domo requested their weapons and helmets, which they gave over to him, having no choice in the matter of the swords. The small dagger Maximus had sheathed in his boot was a comfortably reassuring object. He had long ago learned to always have an alternative form of protection with him if he was able.

There was some milling around in the peristyle as a flutter of talk preceded them down the richly decorated halls. Drusus and Antoninus stayed close behind Maximus, and when they entered the reception room together, a hush fell over the crowd of silk-clad courtiers, officers and senators. "The cat's among the pigeons now," Antoninus murmured in a low voice that only Drusus and Maximus heard.

A black-garbed Praetorian general strode over to them and Maximus noted that Quintus Clarus looked the picture of the chief of the elite personal troops of the Emperor. "Maximus," Quintus said, taking in his former commander's apparent return to health, although his sharp eyes missed nothing, including the slight marks of illness that still marred the intelligent face or the sinewy gauntness of limbs not yet restored to full strength and vitality.

"Quintus," Maximus replied politely. He was still not sure if this was his enemy or his long-time friend, Quintus seeming to have changed his allegiance several times, most notably serving the late Emperor Commodus Aurelius.

Quintus drew them forward, introducing Maximus and his aides to several of his own officers, and to several important senators, presumably those who held the purse strings of the military since both names were familiar to Maximus in that regard. Maximus refused wine for himself, but his two men accepted the silver goblets they were offered. He sighed, wishing to be anywhere but here, but glad that, at least for the time being, he hadn't been dragged off to be secretly dispatched somewhere in the bowels of the palace. After an interminable half hour, during which he wished he had turned the cloak over to the major domo along with his sword, Maximus sent Drusus back with it. "Too hot," he explained, "and I'm grand enough without it." He smiled at his aide's expression of disappointment. "Never mind, Drusus, I'm sure it impressed them all greatly."

Antoninus chuckled, "He spent hours brushing and working with that cloak, sir."

"I can tell," Maximus answered, amused. "He wants me to be a far grander fellow, I'm afraid, than I prefer to be."

Quintus came up to him again and requested that he accompany him. He looked pointedly at Antoninus and the just returned Drusus when they made to follow. "Just General Maximus," Quintus said sharply.

Antoninus started to protest, but at a gesture from Maximus, assented to wait in the hall with Drusus as the Praetorian led their general off down the corridor. "They could kill him now, and nobody would be the wiser," Antoninus muttered, trying to curb his anger and not just follow the two generals anyway.

"Shall I reconnoiter?" Drusus asked the older man.

"No, though I've no doubt you could melt into the walls and be invisible, Drusus, I've seen you do it often enough in the field." He had. Drusus was adept at hiding himself, both on and off horseback, no doubt because his lithe form lent itself well to camouflage and silent maneuvering.

"I don't like this," Drusus fumed.

"Neither do I, but I don't see that we have a choice except to wait." So they waited.

Maximus was led into a luxurious anteroom that opened onto a reception room much smaller than where the larger group of dinner guests was enjoying pre-dinner conversation and drink. As Quintus closed the door behind them, a slender, rather delicate appearing young man rose from a chair, setting aside several large scrolls. "General Maximus, I believe, I am pleased to meet you at last."

"Sire," Quintus spoke, "may I introduce General Maximus Decimus Meridius, newly restored to health after an unfortunate year."

Unfortunate? Maximus thought wryly, yes, that was one way to describe it. He hid his smile by bowing his head in obeisance to this young man he didn't know, who was Emperor Pertinax Aurelius Caesar. His eyes fell on a pair of very long, narrow feet encased in the caligae of a military officer only made of purple leather. He had heard that Pertinax affected the garb of a soldier, and sometimes even that of a gladiator, dressing as a swordsman, only in gold chased armor and using jewel encrusted blades. He sighed to himself. Another pretender like Commodus, only, he hoped, a sane one.

He raised his eyes when the Emperor touched his arm. "Don't humble yourself too much, Maximus," Pertinax said, "you and I both know that you were my uncle Marcus' choice to succeed him."

Maximus hoped he didn't look as surprised as he felt. Who, he wondered, had told Pertinax that story? At a small movement from Quintus, he understood. "Sire," he said mildly, "I have no pretensions to imperial power."

Pertinax' lips quirked ironically, then he nodded, drawing Maximus over to the table, which contained several large maps. Examining them, Maximus saw that they were of Hispania, with Emerita Augusta and Trujillo prominently marked, along with the outlines of the military encampment at Emerita. "Your home, I believe." When Maximus nodded, Pertinax pointed out the markings representing stone walls and aqueducts. "New walls and new barracks, just completed. Felix III will be housed as befits an elite legion."

"The men will appreciate it, sire," Maximus said, truthfully. His eyes took in a barricade wall around Emerita that hadn't been there before. "This is new," he commented.

"New and necessary, General. Has anyone told you why I am sending one of my most elite legions to Hispania instead of back to Germania? No? Well, the problem is, the locals conscripted into the auxiliary legion mutinied against their leaders some months back. Some situation arising out of my late predecessor's use of their monies to pay for gladiatorial games instead of the foodstuffs and weapons they needed. While I don't condone mutiny, I can understand it."

Maximus kept his expression noncommittal, not sure where this was leading.

"In any case, some locals and some trouble makers come down from Gaul saw it as their opportunity to take advantage of the situation and there has been much raiding and bloodshed. A lot of good hardworking Roman citizens have been killed or deprived of their property, farms and crops burnt, and without adequate leadership, the loyal auxiliary troops have been totally outmatched by these criminals. I want you and Felix III to regarrison the fort at Emerita Augusta, and restore order."

Now it was clear. It was not to be a ceremonial post or a way to get him away from Rome and out of the picture, he was being given a real job to do, and he breathed a little easier for the first time since the summons came three weeks earlier. "I will do this for you, Sire," he said honestly. "This is my home country, the people are honest and hard working, loyal to Rome. I will be honored to restore their properties to them and punish the responsible parties."

Pertinax smiled broadly, "Good, good, just what I wanted to hear. You will, of course, wonder about your own estates, but I can assure you that as of last week when my last courier came through, they were not only intact but thriving."

"Thriving, Sir? But - everything was burnt. . ." Everything, everyone. . .the memory still could make his heart squeeze in agony.

"The last time you saw it, yes. It is unfortunate, and I regret beyond words that my cousin saw fit to exact such a heinous punishment upon you and your family. But a benefactor of yours has seen to it that the villa and farm has been restored, indeed, it has been doubled in size by the addition of some formerly imperial lands adjoining it. I feel strongly that this is the least Rome can do to make recompense to you for what you suffered at my cousin's hands."

"A benefactor, Sir? I don't understand. . ." A door opened behind Pertinax and a woman stood within the doorway. A lovely auburn haired woman garbed in gold tissue bound with violet ribbons, her hair braided and woven around golden fillets, rich gold necklaces glittering at her throat. "Lucilla," he said grimly, suddenly understanding.

"Lady Lucilla," Pertinax corrected him in a chiding tone. He gestured Commodus' sister forward. "She was most insistent that your estate be restored to its former condition, indeed she gave me no peace until I agreed to do it."

Maximus stared at Lucilla, once the object of his youthful dreams of passion, and even recently a reason he had stepped back from the brink of death to choose life and the possibility of being with her. He bowed his head with ironic deference, "Lady Lucilla, I thank you."

Now he knew where the chests of his belongings and the grand new gifts had come from. He longed to tear them off and cast them at her feet in contempt, but it would serve no purpose to react so rudely, especially in front of the new emperor. He fingered the legion medallion, saw her eyes go to its golden gleam, and shot her a look that she would understand conveyed his disgust. Instead of giving him back anger, however, she confounded him by smiling. Pah, the woman never knew what she wanted from one day to the next. Ana's face suddenly flashed into his mind's eye and he had a strong sensation that she was, at that very moment, thinking of him and sending him wishes for strength. It restored his equilibrium and he was able to think without anger clouding his mind.

"It was my pleasure, Maximus." Her voice was, as always, warm honey to his ears. But he reminded himself, that honey often hid the sting of the bees who made it, and he doubted he would ever be unwary of that around her again.

"And now, here is the official proclamation of your status, General. How does the title Military Governor of Hispania sound to you?"

Struck speechless, Maximus managed to gather his thoughts enough to answer something appropriately grateful. "I take it I am no longer commanding the Northern Armies, sire?"

"No, I have given charge of that to Septimius Severus, whom I believe you know. Do you tell me you would rather freeze your arse in Germania, General Maximus?"

"No, honestly sire, I do not!" Maximus said honestly, causing Pertinax to laugh and pat him on the back.

"Good man, let Severus freeze his hangars off in the north fighting the Marcomanni and their ilk, I am sending you home, General, home to Hispania's warm breezes in summer, and the sweet fields of wheat and rye waving in the breezes."

"You have been there?" Maximus asked him, surprised.

"Oh, indeed I have. In my youth, I was fostered at the home of Glaucus Leto, one of your predecessors as military governor. I have a great fondness for Hispania and its peoples. Next to Rome, it is my favorite place in the empire." He signaled Quintus with a glance, and they began walking to the door. "Please accompany Lady Lucilla to dinner, General, renew your acquaintance with her. I think you will find her a lively conversationalist."

"Sire, I. . ." he realized he could not refuse without looking like an ingrate, so instead of saying he would rather not do that, he thanked Pertinax instead. "Thank you for allowing me to serve the Empire, sir."

"Oh, I'm selfish," Pertinax told him with a laugh, "I only want the best of everything, and you, General Maximus, are the best. Don't disappoint me."

Maximus bowed deeply, "I won't, sire." Then they were out the door and Antoninus and Drusus were waiting, looking very relieved to see him walking toward them and not being dragged, a corpse, out of the room. He grinned at their expressions, largely ignoring Lucilla, who managed to keep up with his strides. At the door to the banquet hall, he briefly outlined what the emperor had told him to put his aides' minds at ease, then led Lucilla to one of the tables grouped with couches on the high dais where he had been told to sit. She sat in a chair, as befitting a Roman matron, and he chose to also sit rather than recline, able to do in consideration of his recent injuries. He poured wine for her, but did not speak much, afraid anything he said would be bitter, given their last conversation.

He did inquire after Senator Fulvius, "Your husband, the senator, is not with you this evening?"

Lucilla sipped her wine, eyes somewhat bleak. "I have no husband," she said in a low voice.

Startled, Maximus' eyes fastened on hers. What lie was this? "What, killed him already?"

A few nearby guests, straining to hear their conversation, gasped, then turned away at his quelling look, trying to seem otherwise occupied.

Lucilla shook her head, "No. I never married him in the first place."

"Lies within riddles within puzzles, Lucilla. What is the truth of this, I wonder?" He sipped his wine, studying her over the rim of the gold goblet. "And you claimed it was consummated too. Did he not like the taste you gave him, and thus refuse to marry you after all?"

Lucilla's eyes snapped and he thought she was going to dash her wine in his face, but she stopped herself, aware of being the cynosure of most eyes at that end of the triclinium. "I told you that so you would not endanger yourself seeking an alliance with me. I had no idea how the new emperor would look at me or at Lucius, so I thought it best to absent myself from Rome and keep you away from me as well."

"How noble!" he said with deep irony, "You lie so well, my lady Lucilla, I wonder if this is even the truth." He set down his cup and gestured the servers away from him, his appetite flown.

"You would not recognize the truth about me if you stumbled over it in broad daylight," Lucilla snapped, her eyes flashing at him, then she closed her mouth and ignored him the rest of the evening.

When he could, Maximus made his excuses for himself and his aides, thanking Quintus, and, through him, the emperor for the evening, then they left. Antoninus insisted on riding the gray and gave his well-trained bay stallion to Maximus for the ride back to the Campus Martius. "Please, sir, I'd rather fight this stubborn mule of a horse myself, if you don't mind."

It was a logical argument, and he was very tired from both the journey and the stresses of the evening. Tomorrow he would attend the senate and listen to the speeches, no doubt, and no doubt be fawned over by anyone who thought he had any influence with the court. He didn't like that much, but supposed it was necessary. He would do what he had to do as quickly as he could without giving offense, then return to Ostia and Ana.

Lying in his comfortable bed, listening to the night winds and the soft murmurs of the sentries as they made their rounds, Maximus thought of Ana. He closed his eyes and saw her face, the lively expression and dancing blue eyes, her lovely hair and sweetly curved figure, and he wanted her so badly his body ached for her. Since he could not touch her at that moment, he concentrated on sending his thoughts winging to her. "Ana," he whispered into the darkness, "Ana, little one, I love you."

Later, when he was sliding into the grip of sleep, he thought he heard his name whispered on the wind, "Maximus, Maximus - I love you." He slept with a smile on his face.

By noon the next day, Maximus had had enough of the Senate. There were several interesting speeches, but the main part of their session seemed to consist of constant wrangling over petty details of laws that didn't seem at all important to anyone save the originator of the law or the party seeking to change it. He wondered that they ever achieved anything of note since they seemed to lack all guidance and discipline. If he had run his legions so, he mused, they would have fallen apart in disarray in a week. When the session was over and he could get away, he fled as swiftly as good manners would allow, although several senators made a point of stopping him to congratulate him on his restored good fortune. One of them was Gracchus, the only one Maximus greeted warmly.

He found his way from the Senate chambers to the atrium of the emperor's reception rooms, where he asked a Praetorian centurion to direct him regarding his meeting with Pertinax. He eventually found his way to the indicated area, only to find himself in a small garden that was open to the skies, with a marble fountain in the center. This could not be right. He turned to retrace his steps, thinking he was hopelessly lost in the maze of rooms, and found himself face to face with Lucilla.

"Don't scowl so, Maximus," she chided him. "You're in the right place, but apparently I'm not the person you expected to meet."

"Hardly," he agreed. "I have an appointment to speak to the emperor on a personal matter."

She smiled and sat on the rim of the fountain. "Allow me to guess - you're going to marry again and you want to assure Pertinax that the bride is non-political."

He gaped at her briefly, wondering how she knew.

Her laughter irritated him. "I see I've scored a hit. Do I know the lucky woman?"

"You do not." Then he remembered, she had met Ana when she came to his tent while he was very ill. "Perhaps you do," he continued, "I believe you met her once."

"The little physician? I'm not surprised. She healed you and you are grateful, but to marry her - Maximus - I am surprised at that." She adjusted her luxurious blue stola, wrapping the palla more warmly about her shoulders since the air coming in the skylight was cold.

Maximus didn't dignify her words with a response. Instead, he turned his back and walked around the perimeter of the little garden, looking at the statues in the niches along the walls. His face burned when he realized they were all erotic statuary, no doubt from Persia, by the look of them. Trust Commodus to corrupt even a simple garden. He had no doubts that was who had placed the figures there.

"Why should it surprise you," he asked after turning from the statues in disgust. "Did you think I would wait for you to be free of your elderly senator? No, wait, I forgot. You never married the man. He must be pining."

Lucilla rose to her feet, "You will believe what you want about me, Maximus. I tell you I did what I did to protect my son and to protect you. If you choose to think that I did it somehow to spite you, that is your right. But know this, had I known that Pertinax would do as he has done and restore everything to you, I would not have told you I had married Fulvius, I would have thrown myself at your feet and begged you to take me despite my betraying you to Commodus."

Maximus studied her pale face and flashing eyes. "How can I believe you, Lucilla?" he inquired, maintaining a level of interest that was only just polite and nothing more. "How can I believe anything you say to me when you have proven over and over again that, where I am concerned at least, you are a liar." With that, he inclined his head politely and walked out of the garden room. In his wake, Lucilla stood alone, staring into nothingness; eventually, she covered her eyes with both hands in despair.

Outside that room, Maximus was met by the major domo from the evening before. "General, the Emperor is unavoidably detained. He has asked me to convey to you this message - return to Ostia and prepare to leave for Spain within ten days. He said to tell you most particularly how pleased he was to meet you last night, and he has asked me to give you this key. He said when you return to Ostia, the object that this key unlocks will be in your tent. He said you would know what it meant."

So he was free to go! Maximus thanked the man, asked him to thank the Emperor on his behalf, and took the little golden key, shoving it into the leather coin bag in a pocket of his cloak. He strode quickly out of the palace, collecting Drusus and Antoninus as he went. "We're free. Let's go back to Ostia, we depart for Spain in ten days - orders from the Emperor."

They trotted their horses through the city streets as fast as the crowds of citizens allowed, then galloped quickly to the Campus Martius to break their camp and leave. Maximus felt like a young boy out of school on a holiday. He could not stop smiling. To have work to do again - it was a heady feeling after so long being under the yoke of a slave. To be at the head of Felix III and doing the things he loved most - he was lucky beyond belief. And then there was Ana.

He laughed aloud, startling Drusus. Antoninus nudged him, whispering, "The little one, Lady Ana, I think there is something going on there."

"Oh," Drusus said. It had never occurred to him to think of the general as a normal man with a normal man's appetites, to him, Maximus was an almost god-like creature, above such petty things as lust.

"Oh, stop fretting," Antoninus teased, "he's a man like you or I, Drusus, with a man's needs. I daresay he even puts on his trousers one leg at a time just as we do."

Drusus gulped, then had to confess that he did, he had witnessed that himself. "He does," he admitted in a low voice, "he even has a chamber pot."

Antoninus gaped at his friend, then laughed loudly, "Why Drusus - did you just make a joke?"

"No, but if it pleases you to think so, be my guest." Was nothing sacred? Drusus scowled for the first mile or so of their return trip to Ostia, then excitement about going to Hispania took over and he forgot his disappointment that Maximus had normal urges and needs like any other man.

As for Maximus, he had galloped far ahead of his escort, his red cloak flying behind as Scarto's strong pace ate up the miles back to Ostia. Hispania. Hispania and Ana. Hispania, Ana and his villa, the pink stones glowing in the sun. Life was about to become very sweet indeed.

======================================
Click on the "More" button for the next chapter.

-------------------------------
Copyright 2001 by wildbearies