1He should have been happy, yet the snow saddened him. The snow which concealed and hid the deaths of over a thousand men. Men who's loyalties had stolen their lives.

Thank the Gods it was not mine, he thought with a sigh, as he wiped the streaks of blood from his hands to his furs. In the hazy darkness of sunset the blood almost looked black and he pondered whether the man whom it once belonged to knew it would be his day to die. His deep train of thought was abruptly broken by the loud caw of a nearby crow. He watched it circle above like a black leaf and smiled for te first time this day. He would live to fight another day. Victory. He watched the beauty of his steamy breath circle in the cold air and looked towards the forest. He was hungry, of that he was sure, but he was also tired and had created enough death for one evening. He left the entrance of his small tent and trudged slowly down the muddy path towards his slaves shelter, taking in every ounce of emotion. A battle had just been won, the air was laden with tears.

The walk was pleasant as he spoke briefly with some passing friends who never failed to lift his spirits and momentarily dull the aching inside of him. He had never found it easy to cope with the site he saw after the battle. Bodies of men, stacked like firewood ready to be burned. These visions made him doubt his abilities as a soldier. There was no question as to his physical credentials, yet his soft heart allowed for too much pain and guilt. As he walked along the path of slush and mud he thought of the change that he felt washing over him. For to many years now he had dreamed of carnage and death. Perhaps it was time to leave for home to live in peace with his family.

"Ah, it's a mighty fine evening Sire" Chirped Cicero, his loyal slave.

His master gave a small smile and a slight sigh.

"Cicero, you are an honest man. I am unsure as to whether my passion still lies with the army. I don't know if I should just...go home.." Confusion was quite apparent in his eyes. Cicero was taken back for it was a rare occasion a master would come to his slave for advice!

"Sire," Cicero began, softly, "I always think it is better to follow your heart. But I also think that you are an amazing soldier who has much to offer. I think this is who you are." He paused to gage his master, Maximus' reaction. His view was cast to his feet and his brow furrowed in what looked like deep confusion. Cicero did care a lot about Maximus as he left him his dignity and they had built a friendship. He felt bad that his friend was troubled, so he continued

"Besides, I know you, you would be bored within a week without it!" He chuckled.

Maximus gave a wide smile, knowing his friend was right.

"Ah, enough of this talk!" Maximus said loudly, "I have come to ask something of you."

"Anything Sire."Came the reply.

"Just to go hunting for dinner"

"Of course, I'll be back shortly. Shall I bring the food to your tent?"

"Yes," nodded Maximus. "We shall eat together with some friends in small celebration of our triumph!" Maximus gave Cicero a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned to return to his tent as Cicero went to prepare his hunting weapons.

The walk back from the tent was much quieter than the way there. The only sound was a howling wind. Maximus felt it sting the grazes and nicks on his face, yet it was still refreshing. Cicero was right. Maximus couldn't return to his parents yet. He hadn't finished here. There was still much to be done and he knew that he could be more than a soldier. He looked around him at the camp. The fires which were lit up seemed to reflect the stars above and the faint sound of men laughing could be heard through the dark of dusk. He closed his tired eyes and took a deep breath in, making his muscular chest expand. This is my home, and these men are my family he thought. My life is Rome