This is a work of fiction, loosely based on the character "Maximus" from the Dreamworks film, "Gladiator" . No insult or invasion of copyright intended, but rather, it is a way of expressing the author's delight in Russell Crowe's work and his manliness. "Gladiator" and its characters are copyrighted by Dreamworks, but the premise of this story is copyrighted by me.

©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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Drusus went in to wake Maximus just after dawn. "Sir, the sun is up."

Maximus cracked one eye open part way and then sighed. "So you think I should be also?"

Taken aback, his aide nonetheless pressed him on the subject. "We have much to do, you said that to me yourself, sir."

Both eyes open, Maximus rolled onto his back, resigned to getting out of bed when he really wanted nothing more than to sleep at least another hour. He shoved the blankets back and stretched, noting how his aide's eye went unerringly to the red bite marks on his arm. Maximus enjoyed teasing Drusus, who had shown himself to be somewhat reserved about certain things, sex being one of them. He flexed his arm, showing it to the chagrinned younger man. "I hope the she-wolf who bit me wasn't rabid," he commented, grinning when Drusus blushed darkly.

After breaking his fast, he dressed, feeling a bit stiff from the long ride. He noticed a large chest sitting on the floor beside the map table. "What's this?" Drusus didn't know. "Well, was it here when we got back yesterday?"

"I believe it was, sir. It was there last night when I came in and you were, um, gone to dinner." Drusus bent to look at it. "It has a very ornate little lock, sir."

That's when he remembered. "Ah, that small golden key, it's in my coin bag, Drusus, fetch it for me." While his aide went for the coin bag, Maximus lifted the heavy chest onto the map table with a grunt. "Gods, that's heavy! What do you suppose is in here?" He found the key and inserted it into the small lock, opening the hasp of the chest. "I'm almost afraid to look inside," he teased Drusus, seeing the intent, somewhat fearful expression on that young man's face. "No matter, it's too small to be Emperor Commodus, returned from the dead and holding a grudge," and he lifted the lid. He shut it again almost at once.

Drusus jumped out of the way as his General shoved past him and almost ran out the front of the tent. What was going on? He opened the chest to see for himself. The box contained several scrolls bound with plain purple ribbons, annotated on the outside in a very elegant handwriting. Drusus picked one of the scrolls up and examined the writing. "M. Aurelius, Imp." He read. "Gods!" These must be journals or some sort of documents written in the hand of the late Emperor Marcus Aurelius himself. He realized that General Maximus had been the Emperor's own general, his great personal favorite, some even said his choice to follow after him as Caesar and not Commodus. Seeing the scrolls had obviously caused a reaction in the general.

Drusus replaced the scrolls in the box and noticed that it also contained a medallion similar to the one Maximus wore, bearing the insignia of the Felix Legions. There was also a signet ring - the carved sapphire bezel bearing the likeness of a running wolf. And there was a folded piece of parchment sealed with red wax and imprinted with a signet he didn't recognize. He replaced all these objects in the chest and closed it again, relocking it. He put the key beside the chest and went to find his general.

The guards pointed down toward the river, so Drusus strode in that direction, eventually finding himself picking his way along the shore among the weeds. A flash of red caught his eye and he realized he was looking at Maximus who was sitting on a large fallen tree with his red cloak wrapped around himself, staring out at the water. Dithering about whether to interrupt what was apparently an emotional reverie, Drusus just stood, waiting.

"I know you're waiting, Drusus," Maximus called to him, "I'll be back directly."

As hints went, Drusus supposed that one was pretty obvious, so he sighed, turned, and made his way back into the camp to the general's tent. On his way, he came across the little physician, Lady Ana, walking towards Maximus' tent also, carrying a covered ewer. "Lady Ana," he greeted her politely.

Ana smiled, "Is he here?" No need to say which "he" she meant.

"Ma'am, he's down by the river. I expect him shortly."

She looked puzzled. "By the river?" She walked into the tent and set the ewer on the sideboard. "A tonic for his lungs and chest," she explained, seeing Drusus eyeing that item somewhat askance. "What is he doing down there? It's damp and misty, not good for his breathing." She spotted the chest that had come from Rome the day before. "Oh, he's opened the box. What was in it?"

"It seems to be some scrolls and items belonging to the late emperor," Drusus explained.

"Commodus?" Ana said, confused. She lifted the lid without asking, but didn't see Drusus' frown at her boldness as she examined one of the scrolls. "Oh, no, I see." She replaced it and examined the other items briefly. "Yes. Well. Where did you say he was?" Drusus told her, and Ana set off toward the river bank.

She made her way through the brush and weeds down onto the muddied bank, following the tracks of his boots in the soft earth before she saw him. He sat wrapped in his red cloak, perched on a huge tree that had fallen the winter before. He seemed self absorbed, and as she neared him, she saw him wipe the edge of his cloak over his face several times. "Maximus?" she called out to him.

His reverie broken, he looked over his shoulder at her, then gestured for her to join him. "I know," he said as she came up, his lips quirked in a little smile that told her he expected her to chastise him for being out in the damp mists with lung fever so recently having almost killed him. "Come sit with me," he invited somewhat hoarsely, and when she did, he wrapped his cloak around them both, putting his right arm around her, gathering her close against his side. "Good morning, Lady Ana," he said formally, teasing her.

"And to you, Sir," she teased back. She twisted her head to look into his face. His eyes were reddened and she realized he had been going through some sort of emotional reaction to the contents of that chest. "Let me help you," she murmured, cradling his cheek in her hand.

"I'm fine - really." He told her with a rueful smile, taking her hand and kissing the palm before twining his fingers in hers and holding on. "I imagine Drusus showed you the chest from Rome?"

She nodded. "The late Emperor's things? Yes, he did." She leaned against him, putting her arm around his waist, liking to hold onto his solid form. He was definitely less bony, she thought fleetingly.

"It took me aback," he explained, "seeing those scrolls. I watched Marcus - the late Emperor, that is - writing in his journals every day. I can't remember not seeing him make at least some kind of short note each night, even when he was too weary to keep on his feet or too ill. He always wrote in his journal." Maximus' voice broke a little and he stopped talking.

Ana tightened her grip of his waist. "From what you have said, he loved you like a son. Perhaps these are things he wanted you to have."

"Probably, I didn't stop to read them, I just - couldn't."

Ana leaned up and kissed him, turning his face so he was looking down at her. "In good time, you will. There is a small sealed letter with them in the box, did you see it? Perhaps that is an explanation of what's in it."

Maximus turned her so she was facing him, resting in his arms with her head on his shoulder. He kissed her forehead, smiling. "My little physician, so worried about her patient."

She nodded, face against his woolen tunica. "Especially when he's out on a cold, damp morning with only one layer of clothing between him and the elements."

"I'm fine. The cloak is warm, and so is the lady, I think." He squeezed her gently.

She chuckled, rubbing her cheek against him. "The lady loves you, the physician is worried about you."

He got to his feet, setting her feet gently onto the river bank. "Then your patient begs your forgiveness, and asks if you would walk with him back to the healthier air of the castra."

"Happily," she told him with a smile. "I brought you a tonic to drink, it's in your tent." They walked side by side, with him holding her hand, helping her through the tangled brush, lifting her over a muddy area, then once again twining their fingers together. "I'd follow you without your pulling me by the hand, you know."

He laughed, sounding more himself. "Yes, but allow me to think you're enjoying it."

"Oh, no fears on that score," she said wryly.

"Good. Now, on another subject, I've need of more than one mount, especially since we march for Hispania soon. Would you accompany me to the horse markets in Ostia today to help me select them?"

"I'd be delighted, I love horses," she said, pleased beyond words that he had asked her.

"Good." They stopped outside his tent, Maximus grinning at her. "I'm almost afraid to invite you in, you might try to take advantage of me again."

Ana laughed and walked in ahead of him. "Of course I will," her voice floated back to him, "but not right now, you old, worn out soldiers need to rest a lot, build up your stamina."

"My lady," the bemused guards heard General Maximus say, "this old soldier is getting younger every day, have a care that I don't show you just how much younger I am already just this morning."

There came a soft burst of giggling, then silence. The legionaries glanced at one another. So, it was true what Rufus and Tullius had claimed the night before - the general was indeed interested in the beautiful little physician, and obviously not because of the tonics and poultices and herbs. "I hope she's brought him a strengthening tea," the elder of the two commented when it became obvious what was going on inside the tent.

"Sounds like he may need it," the other guard agreed. By unspoken agreement, they stepped five or six paces forward, away from the tent wall, trying to think of other things. "Think of the empire," one teased the other.

"I can't stop thinking about breasts and thighs," the younger guard confessed. "Gods, the officers get all the best women."

"Well, this one deserves the best," the first guard said, and that was a point they could agree on.

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Copyright 2001 by wildbearies