******
Part 1: Fateful Night
I heard those words that condemned you and yet I cannot believe them. I am alone, all alone, in this dizzy world without you, only the tenous thread of your words holding me here.
I clasped your knees last night, after you said that we might not be able to go home after all, and entreated you to say further. You raised me to my feet and kissed me for answer, whispering against my lips as we parted, "Come to bed."
And under the blankets, hands sliding across my skin, you told me in my ear, accompanied by tender kisses and harsh breathing, that the Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, had asked you to assume the powers of the Emperor after his death, but only until the Senate could regain full control of the government. That, the Emperor felt, would lessen the corruption of Rome.
I listened in silence as you touched my body, touched the scar I'd taken for you, touched everywhere, the marks of my devotion to you making me writhe as you caressed them with fingers and tongue.
And I kissed you back, mouth moving against yours, not as smoothly as I would have liked, but you didn't seem to mind. I moved over you, hair falling into my eyes, as I whispered that your decision was mine, and I would follow you to Rome or to the ends of the earth.
You said only, "My loyal one," wrestled me laughing beneath you, and kissed me long and hard, our erections sliding wetly together.
After I had returned to my own bed, many kisses and caresses later, I snapped awake at the light that entered our tent.
You left hurriedly with Quintus, and I rose and dressed quickly. Something must be afoot in the camp, I thought, to drag you out of bed in the middle of the night. Well, my lord, whatever it was, I would be waiting for you here.
But after a few minutes, you returned, anxiety written across your features, ordering me briskly to fetch the Senators Gaius and Falco. Glad I'd dressed warmly, I moved to obey you -- and was pushed aside by Quintus and several praetorians entering the tent. They arrested you, holding you back; I seized your sword and saw you shake your head at me. "No resistance, love," you mouthed at me -- and instantly shattered your own words when Quintus said coldly, "Your family will meet you in the afterlife." You leapt at him, I leapt too, but was thrown back to the ground, the sword in my hand. I sat down hard, head pounding, and they hustled you out of the tent.
Quintus turned to me then, malevolence in his eyes.
"Slave," he said, "you've got a choice. Swear loyalty to your new Emperor, Commodus, or share your master's fate."
I hesitated for the merest second. I could not allow Marcus Aurelius' dream to die, if I was the only to know it.
"I swear loyalty to the Emperor, then," I said. But "The *true* emperor," I spoke in my heart.
Quintus smiled. "Very well then. I'll allow you your life. You could be my servant," he added, a trace of a smirk in his voice.
I shook my head wearily, and he, thank all the gods, left the tent.
Numb with grief and cold, I got up from the ground, and gathered your precious things together, preparing to leave this place.
Dead. You'd be dead, lord-love. I picked up the figurines of your wife and child, feeling a strange forboding fall over me. A band of praetorians galloped past on some errand, and suddenly I knew where they were bound. So your family was doomed to die too.
How had I escaped the blood-purge? Quintus' fancy, I suppose. I cringed against the thought of that man touching me the way only you had.
I sighed. The world was pale to me without you in it. For a moment the carving-knife looked like my destiny; I reached for it to plunge it into my breast, but drew back. No, not yet. Not yet.
Instead I picked up a small piece of wood, and tried to carve a figure of you, but my hands, clumsy with cold, snapped it into several bits.
Brushing the broken wood away, I saw morning's light begin to come into the tent. I knew then that you were dead.
Gathering your *penates* together, I began then to prepare for the longest journey of my life.
To Rome I'd go, and do what I could to carry out the true Emperor's dream.
****
Part 2: Cold Sky of Memory
I travelled with the army to Ostia, where they would stay until the new Emperor thought up some campaign; as for me, my days in the army were over.
Emperor Commodus had appointed a favorite of his, Gaius Catullus, to be general of the army. I was left alone, unmolested, except for my few friends.
I carried your figurines in a small bag next my heart. I had been able to save little enough from what was yours.
From Ostia, as spring came creeping over the lands, I went north to Rome. The new Emperor was then preparing for games of some kind; there had never been such crowded roads on the way to Rome.
Walking under the sunny sky on the road, I found time to think of you, Maximus, and to remember, and to miss you.
Oh, the days when we fought together as equals, before I saved your life at the cost of my fighting skills, and became unfit to do anything more than serve you.
It had been a battle axe, flying toward you, murderous hate behind it, and I had seen, and the universe had slowed down, and I had stepped in front of you, taking the dull edge of the axe on my jaw, that had crippled me.
I could not speak for weeks after, and to this day I speak with an effort only. My devotion to you was certain; my very speech bore the marks of my love.
And other battles. I had taken so many blows for you, cuts to the thigh and arm, bruises to the face, that you began in jest to call me your shield.
It was then, in our youth, my face still unmarred, that you took me as your lover. You, my Maximus, rising young soldier, took me, the private who would never rise above that position, to be yours in heart and bed.
You were not yet married then, but the marriage had been arranged. She was, you told me, of Spanish descent, her family wealthy farmers. And no, you'd never yet seen her, so how could you love her?
Well, duty to your family is duty, Maximus, I had said to you. But Rome will not let you leave her wars for long and I will be here when you return.
And that was true enough. Somehow, love sparked between you and your wife, but it was a love I did not need to be jealous of, for you soon returned to the army and to me, eyes bright with the hope of a son on the way.
Things went on just the same until I nearly died that day for you. I was certain, dim with fever and pain, that you, who loved beauty, would never want me now. You disabused me of that notion with a kiss to my healing face, in front of all in the tent. I think if I had not been in so much pain, I would have blushed.
After that, never fear the gossip's tongues, you took me home. And the woman I dreaded meeting turned out to become a friend, laughingly calling me her "brother." You were in love with both of us, Maximus, and those were some of the happiest days of my life, slowly learning to kiss and speak again on your Trujillo farm.
And now you, and beautiful Selene, and your young boy, were dead. My instincts had been right; the praetorians were bound for your home.
Of all the terrible things I had seen or imagined in my life, that must be the worst.
So many happy days were spent there. And when we were preparing to return to Rome's army, you asked me a question I had not dared to consider before: did I wish to fight again?
At the very idea of fighting, my mind was overcome with terrifying images of pain. I mutely shook my head and you seemed to understand.
"Well, dear Cicero, my shield, I do seem to be in need of one thing."
My eyes asked what that could be.
"Be my servant. You will always be my equal to me, but you may now shield me in other ways in this."
I smiled assent, and you kissed me. Truth to tell, I would have done anything just to be near you.
Back at the army camp, things did not go so smoothly at first. Your second in command, Quintus, began to be condescending to me, and some of the other soldiers, resenting my closeness to their General, began to refer to me as "Maximus' dog."
Trapped in slow speech, I could not settle the matter in words, and did not wish to use force -- there were too many of them anyway.
So I bore the insults with patience. And all too soon they let themselves be trapped in their own folly; they taunted me, not knowing that you were within hearing inside the tent.
You roared out, love, like a tiger protecting a kit. I have never felt so happy to be allied with you.
They trembled, and slunk away like the dogs they were, proverbial tails between legs. You drew me inside the tent and proceeded to devour me, as I arched into your touch, begging helplessly for more of you, all of you.
That day of all days was my happiest.
And that had been nearly three years ago. The world had changed since then, and you who I had always loved, lay dead.
I looked up to see the walls of Rome ahead. With your love to be *my* shield, and our history of devotion, how could I fail in my task?
******
Part 3: No Easy Way Out
Entering the city I took on the guise of a beggar. I had a little money, of course, but I felt I might need that for more important things than food and lodging.
I knew no one in Rome at all, so for two days I merely wandered about the city streets, taking in the atmosphere.
Underneath their gaity, many people had despair hidden, and I even talked to some who complained about basic needs such as sanitation and water flow. I was sure Rome was ripe for revolution, if the means could only be found.
On the afternoon of the third day, the news flying winged through the city reached me -- you were alive!
Alive! And for the first time in years I felt dizzy, but this was a pleasant dizzyness.
Alive! Maximus, how could I have doubted you for one moment? No German band had attacked your praetorian murderers, you had overcome them yourself.
And then I listened to what the rest of my eager informant was telling me.
You were a gladiator. Oh gods. And my heart sunk again just as it had been lifted. A gladiator. For a brief moment my mind calculated the odds that you'd stay alive long enough for me to even exchange one word with you, then I deliberately erased the forboding from my mind.
My general, my love, you could do it. The man who could survive a death sentence and four praetorians could surely stay alive another day.
Later that day, I walked casually near the Colosseum, where the gladiators, they said, were. Glancing into the cages where they were kept -- a cage for Rome's victor at Vindobona! -- I tried to see if I could even catch a glimpse of you.
Nothing.
So the next day, bright and early, I took my seat in Colosseum, hoping against hope that you'd fight today, hoping desperately that you'd be the winner.
Most of the earlier events bored me. Such carnage. Wasted life. All for a game, not even a battle.
And finally that announcer pompously proclaimed the entrance of Tigris of Gaul. I, along with the rest of the crowd, waited to see what his opponent would be like.
And you walked out.
Oh, love, so beautiful. And I restrained myself from moving down to the edge of the arena and throwing my body at you.
The living, breathing you here -- and I'd thought you dead!
I kept my expression carefully schooled, giving away by not a hint, not a look, that I knew and loved you.
Along with the crowd, I gasped in horror as you fought with the giant and four tigers.
And when it was over, I watched you fight a greater battle; one with yourself. I could not hear what Commodus said, but I could guess -- he wanted you dead. A sword-swipe from a praetorian, or several of them, would work, but there must be cause.
I am sure he taunted you, love. I do not want to know what foul things he said to you.
In any case, you spoke soft words to him, then turned and walked away. The crowd roared for their new conquering hero.
And I -- I left, heading for the street. I wanted to see you closer, my lord. To maybe even speak with you.
In the crowd you saw me and we clasped hands briefly. I managed to get your ancestral figures out from my bosom and hand them to you in the press.
Late that afternoon, I made my way to where you were kept. Love and desire swept over me in great waves as we held hands through the bars for several moments, talking swiftly, quietly.
I promised to return when I had faithfully carried out your wishes. Maybe we could even spend a little more time together then.
******
Part 4: Straight Out From Underneath
I whispered your name and you snapped awake as you always did, hand reaching for my throat.
"My lord! Maximus!" I said again. Then your eyes cleared and you knew me.
"Cicero, love," you whispered. And then you were pulling me down into your kiss.
No more words were spoken after that, just a frantic shared desire, quiet as possible, clumsily half removing clothes, and at last your skin under mine, warm and sweet.
Desperately aware of the other men sleeping just a few feet away, we were almost utterly silent, keeping our moans muffled against each other's bodies, mouths and bodies pressed together hard.
It was a graceless fumbling in the dark, but a fully satisfying fumbling nonetheless, and we sighed, sinking against each other, when it was over.
"My Cicero," you whispered. "How did you get in?"
"Your 'keeper' will do anything for money," I shrugged, smiling against your skin. And I thought to myself, remembering the customs the local women used to get to great champions, rich women may pay to be pleasured by you, but, it seems, *I* pay to pleasure you.
"When do I get out of here?" was your next question.
"Two nights from now," I said. "It's been arranged. I'll have horses by the city wall, and we'll away to Ostia. All you need to do, my Maximus, is stay alive, and meet me there at midnight."
He considered for a moment. "Will the money to free me get to Proximo before that?"
"Yes," I said. The Lady Lucilla would take care of that.
We fell silent for a few minutes, our hearts beating against each other.
"I mourned your wife and son," I said at last. "I loved them."
"I know you did, Cicero," you said. "How did you escape death yourself?"
I shuddered. "Quintus' favor," I whispered. And I had to stay alive for you, I thought.
"Well, then I have something to thank him for," you said. "Although I doubt he let you live out of any true love for me."
"No, nor me," I said. "He offered to take me as his servant. He called me slave."
"And you refused."
"Of course," I answered. "The only man I will ever serve in any way lies in my arms tonight."
You smiled. "Not for much longer, love, we've things to do. And I've got to be alert tomorrow."
And I cannot be there to shield you, I thought.
"My lord. Farewell, then. May your dreams be sweet."
I moved out of your arms, and with a final farewell kiss, gave you my promise that I would not fail you. I would never fail you.
"I'll see you -- soon, Cicero," you whispered to me, our mouths a breath apart. I kissed you again quickly, smiled, and slipped out of the room silent as moonlight.
*****
The day dawned bright and beautiful. I had so much to do! Horses, must get horses. I traded the last of my few gold pieces for them, joking with the seller. You would conquer, we would be living under the rule of true humanity from now on, and we could then be together forever.
I indulged in a bit of dreaming, wondering where we'd go. To Spain. Perhaps even back to your destroyed farm. We could make it beautiful again -- erase all the terrifying memories of fear and pain.
Grapes and olives would be springing up there soon enough. And I smiled as I remembered the harvest days in your home, so filled with light and laughter and joy.
Your wife and son would not be there, and that was the only thing that I mourned.
The day went by on winged feet.
Late in the afternoon, I received a cryptic message from the Lady Lucilla's handmaiden. It merely said: "He suspects. Tonight instead."
Tonight then. We'd flee Rome together, escaping the savage bonds of the arena. I could not wait to see you again.
Night.
Late night, and I gathered all my things together, the horses as well. Making my way to our appointed meeting place, just outside the city walls, I sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to a late bird sing outside the city.
And something went very, very wrong.
My senses pricked up, my spine went shivery. That was no bird singing. Oh gods.
I scarce had time to breathe another breath before an arm was flung over my mouth. I gasped in surprise.
"In league with Maximus -- here he is!" the man who had me by the throat called out.
Words fled my body. For a terrified moment I could not have spoken if I had tried to.
Then I gathered myself together.
"You must be mistaken," I protested, but the words sounded hollow even to me.
"No mistake, dog," the man said. And suddenly I recognized him -- one of the group of soldiers who had so tormented me long ago.
"Oh," I whispered, praying to whatever diety was listening that they would only kill me.
The man tied a rope around my neck, attaching it to a tree branch high above.
"Slave, you startle this horse, or try to go anywhere, and you're dead." He paused, raking me with his eyes. "Pity. Would have liked to get your clothes off once. Always did have a fancy for men tied up. But we don't have time for that."
Through my terror I breathed a sigh of relief. At least I would not be raped before I died.
The man, and any others that may have been with him, disappeared into the night.
Those few moments were the most terrifying of my life. What could I do? What could I do to save you -- you who were undoubtedly approaching this trap I formed an unwilling part of?
I had no time to think -- I could see your armor glint as you silently walked out of the tunnel.
And suddenly I knew what I could do.
"Maximus!" I yelled, my heart in my words, a shout of warning, of terror, a battle cry.
You paused for a instant. The horse I was sitting on, startled by my sudden scream, leapt away, and pain shot through my bones as the rope tied around my neck yanked me up.
You raced to me, holding my legs still. I had failed to even warn you.
"I'm sorry," I rasped out. At least I would die with your arms around me and your eyes locked onto mi--.
******
Part 5: Rays of Eternity
I opened my eyes, startled to find myself lying underneath a spreading green tree, completely at peace, no pain anywhere in my body. I tenatively moved to sit up. For moments my thought was that I had fallen asleep on your Trujillo farm, and that you would come find me soon enough.
Then memory flooded back, and I recoiled in horror. So I was dead then. And what of you -- were you still forced to walk alive in the cruel world I had left behind?
So this was Elysium. What beauty! Cool green trees and just beyond them a meadow filled with wheat and long bright grass.
I lay under the tree for a while longer, so busy watching the birds flit to and fro and the light twinkle on the leaves that I did not look up until I heard the crunch of gravel. I looked up then and saw -- you!
With a cry of joyful welcome, I leaped to my feet and rushed toward you, holding out my hands. You took them and drew me into your arms, both of us laughing.
And at that moment I knew my happiness lay in only one place, now and forever, in your arms.
I was content.