The cries of his people had silenced and now he could hear nothing
over his own shrill screams. They were gripping him as tightly as he
imagined that they gripped Maximus. This common man was not worthy of
their respect. All he was, was a mere gladiator. No longer a general, who
commanded the Roman army. And now, they applauded him, over their own
emperor!
Commodus continued to thrash around. When Quintus had given the order for him to be arrested, he had said it in a cruel way. Commodus had looked at him with such anger but had lost sight of him when the Praetorian had grabbed him up. Now he was being dragged down this dark hall, as the ground underneath his trembling feet grew steeper and the frustration inside his head and his heart threatened to overtake him.
Through a set of carved wooden doors and finally into a deserted cell, which reeked of death. The young emperor was thrown inside and shown no mercy as the door to his cell was tightly locked. Commodus looked up at two large soldiers, who he recognized as two once extremely obedient bodyguards, by the names of Thelonius and Marcus. They peered down at him, dark and silent.
Commodus started to shake even more violently. His father's last words kept echoing in his head, taunting him.
"Your faults as a son, is my failure as a father."
Commodus fought back tears. It is his fault, he thought bitterly. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth on the cold ground. He heard footsteps stop in front of his jail cell and slowly looked up to look into the eyes of Quintus. A hot bubble of anger rose in his throat and he stood up, still slightly weeping.
"You." he stammered. "You were the one I trusted. You gave the order for his death!" he shrieked. "And now here I lie, trapped in the cell. I command you to release me!"
There was no expression on Quintus' face as he spoke. "You are in here for the murder of the Meridas family, several Senators and His Highness, Marcus Aurelius."
Commodus grabbed the steel bars that seperated the two. "Let me out!" he hissed. "I'm the emperor!"
"You are hereby stripped of your title as Roman Emperor and will be sentenced on the eve of the twenty-second day of this month."
Commodus gripped the bars in desperation. "You fool! To continue to serve that man out there will only get you killed. You turned on him, so he will turn on you!"
Quintus turned and strode out of the prison. Commodus rattled the bars and the two Praetorian standing on either side of him reached through and pushed him onto the floor. He fell back and kept yelling after Quintus who did not look back. And when his throat felt hoarse, he slumped against the wall and let out a cry of despair that echoed against the dank walls and followed Quintus all the way up to the Royal Lady Lucilla's room, where she waited in fear.
* * * *
"My Lady."
Lucilla stood up from her bed and wiped her eyes. Lucius was asleep, in his room. She straightened her shawl and locked eyes with Quintus. "Where is my brother?" she asked.
"He is locked away, under the Praetorian's watchful eye."
Lucilla swallowed hard. "How many?" she choked out.
Quintus hesitated. "Two," he mumbled. He looked at the floor but raised them back up again when Lucilla hissed at him.
"Only two?" She stalked over to face him, until she was no more than three feet from him. "You know what he is capable of!"
Quintus did not reply. Lucilla put her face in her hands and let out a sob; the first one she had emitted in someone's presence since her father died. Quietly, she paced around the room, biting her lip and not daring to think what would happen to Lucius if Commodus escaped his prison. She turned back to Quintus and inquired about Maximus.
"He is presently being watched over by palace matrons in the Emperor's room," replied Quintus. He cringed when he saw Lucilla's eyes at this statement. They glinted with clear venom.
"I want him removed from that room immediately," she barked. "Lock that room and do not let anyone enter, do you understand?" She took off down the hallway towards where the soldier lay. Quintus did not follow her.
* * * *
Maximus' vision was growing faint and Juba's soothing voice grew blurry. There was no feeling in his lower back where Commodus had stabbed him. That moment had seemed so long ago. Where was the emperor now?
Juba yelled out over his shoulder. "He's losing blood!" Several matrons and other servants crowded around the wounded soldier who was strewn across the bed, lying almost still. He wasn't speaking and moving around less and less. Two servants were unbuckling his armor which was drenched in his and Commodus' blood. Another was dousing the wound with herbs and trying to stop the flow of blood with a thick cloth.
Juba gripped his friends hand and prayed to the God's that he would not leave this life yet. This gladiator could give so much to this city, thought Juba. Two tears leaked out his eyes and he bowed his head, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. "Strength and honor," he whispered, staring at the floor. His head was swimming.
"Strength and honor," whispered Maximus. Juba looked up in amazement. Maximus was looking at him, struggling to pull back from death. Juba smiled and gripped Maximus' hand harder still.
Commodus continued to thrash around. When Quintus had given the order for him to be arrested, he had said it in a cruel way. Commodus had looked at him with such anger but had lost sight of him when the Praetorian had grabbed him up. Now he was being dragged down this dark hall, as the ground underneath his trembling feet grew steeper and the frustration inside his head and his heart threatened to overtake him.
Through a set of carved wooden doors and finally into a deserted cell, which reeked of death. The young emperor was thrown inside and shown no mercy as the door to his cell was tightly locked. Commodus looked up at two large soldiers, who he recognized as two once extremely obedient bodyguards, by the names of Thelonius and Marcus. They peered down at him, dark and silent.
Commodus started to shake even more violently. His father's last words kept echoing in his head, taunting him.
"Your faults as a son, is my failure as a father."
Commodus fought back tears. It is his fault, he thought bitterly. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth on the cold ground. He heard footsteps stop in front of his jail cell and slowly looked up to look into the eyes of Quintus. A hot bubble of anger rose in his throat and he stood up, still slightly weeping.
"You." he stammered. "You were the one I trusted. You gave the order for his death!" he shrieked. "And now here I lie, trapped in the cell. I command you to release me!"
There was no expression on Quintus' face as he spoke. "You are in here for the murder of the Meridas family, several Senators and His Highness, Marcus Aurelius."
Commodus grabbed the steel bars that seperated the two. "Let me out!" he hissed. "I'm the emperor!"
"You are hereby stripped of your title as Roman Emperor and will be sentenced on the eve of the twenty-second day of this month."
Commodus gripped the bars in desperation. "You fool! To continue to serve that man out there will only get you killed. You turned on him, so he will turn on you!"
Quintus turned and strode out of the prison. Commodus rattled the bars and the two Praetorian standing on either side of him reached through and pushed him onto the floor. He fell back and kept yelling after Quintus who did not look back. And when his throat felt hoarse, he slumped against the wall and let out a cry of despair that echoed against the dank walls and followed Quintus all the way up to the Royal Lady Lucilla's room, where she waited in fear.
* * * *
"My Lady."
Lucilla stood up from her bed and wiped her eyes. Lucius was asleep, in his room. She straightened her shawl and locked eyes with Quintus. "Where is my brother?" she asked.
"He is locked away, under the Praetorian's watchful eye."
Lucilla swallowed hard. "How many?" she choked out.
Quintus hesitated. "Two," he mumbled. He looked at the floor but raised them back up again when Lucilla hissed at him.
"Only two?" She stalked over to face him, until she was no more than three feet from him. "You know what he is capable of!"
Quintus did not reply. Lucilla put her face in her hands and let out a sob; the first one she had emitted in someone's presence since her father died. Quietly, she paced around the room, biting her lip and not daring to think what would happen to Lucius if Commodus escaped his prison. She turned back to Quintus and inquired about Maximus.
"He is presently being watched over by palace matrons in the Emperor's room," replied Quintus. He cringed when he saw Lucilla's eyes at this statement. They glinted with clear venom.
"I want him removed from that room immediately," she barked. "Lock that room and do not let anyone enter, do you understand?" She took off down the hallway towards where the soldier lay. Quintus did not follow her.
* * * *
Maximus' vision was growing faint and Juba's soothing voice grew blurry. There was no feeling in his lower back where Commodus had stabbed him. That moment had seemed so long ago. Where was the emperor now?
Juba yelled out over his shoulder. "He's losing blood!" Several matrons and other servants crowded around the wounded soldier who was strewn across the bed, lying almost still. He wasn't speaking and moving around less and less. Two servants were unbuckling his armor which was drenched in his and Commodus' blood. Another was dousing the wound with herbs and trying to stop the flow of blood with a thick cloth.
Juba gripped his friends hand and prayed to the God's that he would not leave this life yet. This gladiator could give so much to this city, thought Juba. Two tears leaked out his eyes and he bowed his head, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. "Strength and honor," he whispered, staring at the floor. His head was swimming.
"Strength and honor," whispered Maximus. Juba looked up in amazement. Maximus was looking at him, struggling to pull back from death. Juba smiled and gripped Maximus' hand harder still.