THE PRISONERS IN THE PALACE

By Jo Anzalone

(Being the direct continuation of the Maximus/Sid/Brianna storyline at the end of Lost in the Empire)

PART ONE:

Given Sid's extraordinary strength, it was nothing for him to maintain his hold on Maximus' unconscious form during the process of the warp from Rome back to his headquarters of Emerald City in present-day America.  Brianna huddled near his feet, her arms wrapped around her torso, her  lovely features distorted in pain.  Sid looked down at the General's head, tipped far back and hanging limply over his arm, the face quiet, eyes closed. It was, indeed, one of the reasons Sid had sedated him with that small dart to the neck...to spare him the trial of the warp passage.  He had no need to inflict unneeded suffering on his pet project.  The obvious misery of all the others in the warp meant nothing to him.  The other reason for the sedation had been to make the retrieval of the great General...smoother, with no ability in him to resist. And he would have resisted. Sid was sure of that. The level of sedation in that dart would have knocked a bull off its feet. He was taking no chances Maximus would come to himself part way through the warp. Gads, the man could have caused them to end up on Mars or, worse, in Santa Clause III.  He smiled.  Who said he had no sense of humor?
 

When they arrived in the warp chamber, the doors should have slid open at once. They didn't.  Then Rachel began that horrible keening wail of grief that cut into his eardrums.  "Shut her

up!" he ordered no one in particular. No one else was in any condition at the moment to tend to anything but their own survival. 
 

Then the troublesome, meddlesome K&R agent gained his feet. "Put him down!" he hollered as though Sid might actually pay him some heed.

Sid just ignored him and kicked the inside of the door several times. Damn lab techs! What was wrong with them! What was wrong with the blasted DOOR?? "Open UP!" he shouted. Feeding techs to the sharks suddenly seemed way too merciful.
 

Finally the door opened and a roomful of slack-jawed techs gaped at him as he charged through their midst, Maximus in his arms, Brianna's fingers looped through his belt. Terry darted, roaring, after him but he managed a quick dash to a nearby door coded to open only for him. It slid shut behind him, only inches from Terry's outraged face. As soon as he heard the clank of the titanium locking mechanism fall into place, he chose to forget everything outside the door.

 

This room, connected to a series of other secret rooms, was his...his carefully developed space for bringing his ultimate plan to fruition. He looked down at Maximus' face. "Home, General.  Home...at last."

 

Brianna stood perfectly still, staring at her surroundings. "Rome?" she gasped. "Are we in Rome again?"

 

"Looks that way, does it not?" Sid beamed, pleased with her response. Crossing the chamber, he lay Maximus on a large bed, then stepped back, looking at the General rather as does a fly fisherman who has just landed a long-sought trout.  Then he turned to Brianna, clasping her upper arms in both his hands, squeezing his fingers painfully into her flesh. "And you, my dear,
will tell him no different."

 

She didn't understand. "Not tell him...what?"

"That he is not in Rome." 
 

"Not in...Rome?" she repeated.

 

"Yes. I require that he believe he has not left the city." He let go with one hand and waved it to indicate the chamber. "Commodus' palace," he smiled again, though not with his eyes.  "Maximus has been taken into the far, inner chambers of the imperial palace in Rome."  He cocked one eyebrow, fixing her with an odd stare.  "As have you, my dear. As have you."

 

"Me? What do you mean...me?"

 

"I mean that you and he...and myself as well...are all prisoners of the
emperor."

 

She was stunned. "You? A prisoner of...of...Commodus?"

 

"Delightful, isn't it," he bubbled, releasing her entirely.
 

"But...but," she stammered.  "Why?"

 

He lifted her chin with his forefinger. "Do you know, my dear, the classic answer to that question, well, other than 'why not?'"

 

She shook her head.

 

"Because," he laughed, pinching her chin. "That is why...because."

 

"This makes no sense," she protested.

"Au contraire, my little cabbage, it makes absolute, perfect sense."

 

"But...," she began again.

 

He turned on her, eyes blazing. "Listen to me, Brianna," he snapped. "I require this. You will go along with it or...," he wrapped the fingers of one hand around her slender throat, "...or I will squeeze the life out of you with my bare hands." He pressed deliberately too hard on her carotid and she felt the edges of her vision go all black. Letting go of her with a shove, he watched as she stumbled against a low table and fell hard on her right hip.

"If you need more incentive than your own miserable life, hear me. If you disobey me, if you attempt to cross me in any way," he pointed at the General, "he will suffer for it. If you cause my plan to fail, you will leave me no recourse but violence, scientific violence, but violence none the less, against his person."
 

She felt hot tears welling in her eyes. She had been sold into slavery yet again.

Sid saw them. "Yes, my Viking queen. Your tears are good. Shed plenty of them. The General will be moved to pity."

 

Grabbing her arm again, he pulled her roughly to her feet. "Now you will go into that adjoining chamber and change into the clothing you find lying on the bed. You will do that and then return here."  He shoved her toward the ornately carved doorway.

 

She went with slow steps, her mind reeling. She didn't feel fully recovered from the warp yet and now...this?  The room she entered was large, hung with fine draperies, furnished luxuriously in perfect second century Roman style. Her lips parted in surprise as she approached the bed on its carved dais. The clothes were exact replicas of what she had worn when she had spoken with
Maximus through the bars of the gladiator fence before the fight with Tigris. She looked quickly back at the door. Sid wanted her to appear again as she had when...my God. What was he up to?
 

She slipped out of the plain, tan tunic she had been wearing and fastened the golden shoulder clasps of the lovely, draping white one. A small table of cosmetics caught her eye and she knew that Sid expected that, too, expected her to do her hair up in that same way with the golden pins, leaving a few waving strands to frame her long neck.

When she was done, she sat there, perfectly still, on the small padded bench. Sid had asked...no 'required'...that she act as though she were still in Rome, still the well-cared for slave woman Maximus presumed her to be. She would, therefore, have to lie to him. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. He would find out. Eventually he would find it all out.  And then he would hate her for it.

 

Returning at last to the chamber where Sid and Maximus were, she found a meal set for two on the low table. Where, in a locked room, had Sid managed to get THAT? And where was Sid? Finding herself alone with the General, she hurried to his bed and leaned over, feeling for his pulse. Ah, good...slow and steady. He would be all right. She sat on the edge of the bed, studying his face and, unable to resist, traced the line of his lips with a fingertip.

"Engaging in a bit of voyeurism, are we?" a harsh voice chortled behind her.

 

Startled, she pulled her hand quickly away and turned to look at him. He, too, had changed his attire and was now garbed as a Roman servant in a medium brown tunic. "At your service," he grinned, making her a sweeping bow more appropriate to Versailles than Rome. He indicated the food with a small jerk of his head. "Come...dine."

 

"I'm not hungry," she said flatly.

 

"It was not a request," he replied as he walked toward the table.

 

Sighing heavily, she got to her feet and followed him. "Shall I peel you a grape?" he smirked as she sat. He handed her a glass of red wine.

 

He watched, not eating himself, not really needing to eat, as she put a slice of pear in her mouth. "You need to understand what I require of you," he said, his gaze fixed on her lips as she chewed.
 

She swallowed, then used her tongue to lick a drop of pear juice from her lower lip. "We are in Rome. I understand that. What more is there?"

 

He didn't take his eyes off her mouth as he continued. "The 'more' is that you are to see that he falls in love with you."

 

Her eyes widened. She had feared this was his intent. "You are to make him believe that you have been forced into the palace as Commodus' slave. You see," he smiled, "there was that day of the Tigris fight when he caught sight of you and was so smitten that he had Livius murdered and took you as his property, for his own...uses."

 

The pear seemed to lodge halfway down her throat. Oh, God, how he would hate her! Quickly she drained the glass of wine, trying to force the pear on its way. Was she imagining it or did Sid's eyes begin to glitter more brightly as she drank?

 

"You will do this...yes?" Sid purred.

 

Damn him! Had he left her any choice? She set down her glass and began to stand, needing to get away from this table, from Sid. Half-rising, she found her legs would not support her. What? She looked across the table at Sid. "What have you done?" she gasped, but his form began to blur and her vision closed into a small circle and then was gone completely.

 

Quickly Sid stepped around the table, catching her shoulders before she fell back onto the marble floor. "Ah ah!" he said. "No smashing of the lovely blonde head. Not yet, anyway." He scooped her lightly into his arms and carried her toward the bed, standing beside it, smiling at the General.

 

"See what I have arranged for you, Maximus. Is she not loveliness incarnate?" He looked down at Brianna's face against his shoulder. Smiling, he kissed her lips.  "She tastes of red wine, Maximus, and pears. I'm sure you will be very... entertained." He smiled again. "And is that not why you have come?" Then he carried Brianna into her chamber and arranged her quiet form artfully on the floor.

An hour later Maximus began to stir. His limbs felt leaden at first and so he just lay there, his eyes closed, trying to think through the insistent pounding inside his skull. He ran his tongue back and forth twice along the inside curve of his upper teeth. His mouth felt strange. A high-pitched ringing in his ears slowly began to fade. What had happened to him? He'd been going somewhere...hadn't he? There must have been something he was going to do. What was it? He remembered a sense of urgency, a need to hurry. But thinking hurt. His thoughts seemed to bounce off the inside of his skull, each one a painful thump against the bone that contained it. Had he been in the arena? That must be it. He had been injured and carried someplace. Or...no...was he dead? Why was it so hard to move? His arms and legs felt more like logs than a part of his body.
 

Sid reclined in a padded lounge chair in a near-by room, watching Maximus on a large view screen. After he had positioned Brianna, he had injected Maximus with something that would gradually counteract the effects of the powerful drug in the dart. It was time to get this show on the road.

 

Maximus curled the fingers of his right hand. They prickled as though their nerves had been compressed. At least they moved. He decided he was alive. He ached too much to be dead. Breathe, he told himself.  Just lie here and concentrate on breathing. So he did...much to Sid's annoyance.

 

It was a good ten minutes before he tried to move again. He had lain there, trying to listen so he could gain some sense of his surroundings, but absolute silence met his efforts. He blinked his lids open, and found himself looking at the underside of an embroidered canopy. That couldn't be! The only time in his life he had lain under such a rich canopy was in the days when Lucilla....  LUCILLA! Was he in her quarters? How would he have gotten there? WHY would he have gotten there? His mind reeled at the effort to think coherently.
 

Sid tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest. "Come on, Maximus! Get the fuck off the damn BED!"

 

Maximus closed his eyes again and Sid let out a loud snort. The room he was in was completely soundproofed, so he was quite free to express himself however he might choose.
 

Where had he been going? Why couldn't he remember? Was WAS the last clear thing he could bring up in memory?  Maybe he could go from there. Ah, he was talking with Proximo, leaning against a table, his hands cupped around its edge. Yes! "I will kill Commodus." He had said that. He remembered. Then Proximo had replied, "Why would I want that? He makes me rich." What had he said, what, to encourage the man? Ah, yes! "He killed the man who set you free." He remembered fixing his eyes on Proximo as he'd said the words.  Would they be enough... enough to make a difference?

Then...what? He had been in his small room in the gladiator quarters, had lain on his cot. He remembered trying to sleep. Then the sound of the Praetorians at the gate. He'd spoken briefly with his fellow gladiators, worried for what his escape might cost them. That was IT! That was where he was going! He'd been in the tunnel, heading toward his meeting with Cicero. CICERO! He sat up abruptly, making his head swim, and he clapped both hands over his face, moaning softly, his mind still racing despite the pain.

Had he left the tunnel? Had he found Cicero? Where was Cicero now? Why couldn't he remember what happened next? He was hurrying down the tunnel, his armor buckled on, a torch in his hand...then nothing. Someone unseen must have clubbed him from behind. Lowering his hands, he let them slide slowly down the front of his breastplate. So, he still wore his armor. Whoever had taken him had left him as he was. It had to be Commodus. But why had he not been killed on the spot? Surely that was what Commodus wanted? He let his eyes roam now around the chamber he was in. Where in the name of all the gods WAS he? Cautiously, one small bit at a time, he slid his legs over the edge of the bed and lowered them to the floor. He sat there a long moment. Every movement was still an effort, still made his vision blur in and out of focus.

 

"Come on, big guy. You can do it! Up and at'em!" Sid urged toward the viewing screen.

He rose to his feet, swayed, almost fell, but managed to clutch a thick bedpost in time. Wrapping an arm around the post, he closed his eyes, pressing his free hand across them. Inhaling as deeply as possible, he let the breath out slowly, feeling the air of it hiss over his teeth. Still holding the post, he looked around the room again, noticing several doors. Stumbling slightly, he headed for the one directly across from the bed. It was different from any door he'd ever seen, smooth and perfectly flat, painted the same creamy color as the walls around it. He ran his hands over it. There was no latch, no grip of any sort. So he turned and leaned his back against it, gathering his strength for further movement.
 

He noted another door to his left, similar to this one, and past that on the same wall a second doorway that was shut, but seemed to have some sort of odd handle on it. His eyes passed those, passed the bed on the far wall, and came to rest on a doorway just to the right of that. This one was open. In fact, it was just a frame, with no door at all in it. He smiled grimly, using his palms to push himself away from where he leaned.
 

Walking as silently as possible, he approached the open passage. Instinctively his hand reached for his sword. Of course. That would not have been left in his possession. Reaching the doorframe, he paused, still feeling very weak, and before entering, began to study the room cautiously. It was a chamber very similar to the one he'd found himself in. A large canopied bed occupied a good portion of its space.

He took two or three steps into the room before he saw her. A woman, lying face down just beyond a heavy chest. His eyes narrowed and he quickly scanned further to determine if there were any other occupants. He saw no one and there seemed no way in or out of this chamber but by the doorway he had used. Crossing the marble floor, he knelt on one knee beside her and lay his hand on her shoulder. She was warm. Still alive. Putting his other knee down, too, he gently turned her. His jaw dropped slightly when he saw her face. It was her! The woman he had spoken with through the gladiator fence, the woman who had jumped into the arena in Zucchabar. By the gods! It WAS her!

He slid his arms under her, intending to lift her and lay her on the bed, but his strength had not yet returned and his head swam again with the strain of his attempt. He licked his lower lip thoughtfully and then lowered himself into a seated position on the floor, leaning his back against the large, leather-clad chest. Then he pulled her toward him so that he held her from the waist up across his legs, his arms cradling her. He wasn't exactly sure why he decided to do that, but his head hurt and he didn't know where he was or why he was there. He didn't know why she was there or what had happened to her. It was all he could think to do, all he had the strength to do.
 

She lay quiet and still across him and he began to study her face. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, tracing the line of a brow and down her cheek. Her face was the only thing in this place, whatever, wherever this place was, that he had ever seen before. He found he wanted to look at it, to keep his eyes on it else he might drown but he was so tired from the effort of moving that he let his lids close, just for a moment, his hand still lightly cupping her cheek. When he opened them again, blue eyes were staring up at him, blue eyes sparkling with tears. A large teardrop overbrimmed, tracking down her cheek until he stopped it with the side of his thumb.
 

"Do not cry," he whispered. "I have you. Do not cry."

Sid smiled hugely at his viewscreen. "Don't listen to him, Baby. You just let them teardrops flow."

ON TO PART TWO

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE

BACK TO LOST IN THE EMPIRE 1

BACK TO LOST IN THE EMPIRE 17

BACK TO INDEX