Maximus Must Die

Chapter Three

The emperor's box. A place where his highness could sit and watch the battles in comfort, with a clear view and smell of the blood. If he were lucky and the fight were particularly entertaining, he might even be splattered with a bit.

Commodus entered the arena to the chanting of his name 'Caesar, Caesar, Caesar'. It sent shivers down his spine - was he accepted? Was he loved? It was quite nerve-wrecking, really. His confidence was shaken, so he merely waved meekly and took his seat next to his sister, who had arrived only moments before. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, although it wasn't a full smile - she knew something he didn't. But he was unfazed by it, he knew things she didn't, he knew the fate of her lover.

What is that pompous oaf doing now? He asked himself under his breath. Lucilla glanced at him, smirking. Commodus never did like Cassius, he always found him patronising yet flattering, he did not like being lied to or spoken to like a child.

There he stood, addressing the roaring crowds in his red wig, taking their concentration away from Caesar and upon himself.

People of Rome. On the 4th day of Antioch, we can celebrate the 64th day of the games. And in his majestic charity, the Emperor has deigned this day to favour the people of Rome with an historical final match. Returning to the Colosseum today after five years in retirement, Caesar, is pleased to bring you the only undefeated champion in Roman history, the legendary...Tigris of Gaul!

The crowd stood again in their thousands and let out a bellowing noise, chanting 'Tigris' in their excitement to see him again.

Majestic charity? This is not charity - this is my duty, I must please my children. He turned to Lucilla, his face showing worry - he wasn't joking, which frightened her. He always took things out of proportion. I'm quite worried, is Tigris still fit to fight? Lucilla ignored her brother, much to his dislike, so he turned to face Cassius again, realising Tigris had entered the arena. He wished the crowd would stop shouting, this was all he needed; a headache.

Representing the training lyceum of Antonius Proximo, Caesar is proud to give you Aelius Maximus.

Maximus walked out into the arena to the crowd's loving embrace. Commodus' eyes began to slowly fill with tears - the crowd loved him. Despite the blurred vision he could still make out clearly the Spaniards weapons - a sword and a shield, exactly what he requested the bastard should have. He looked at Lucilla again and saw she was tense, clearly holding back emotions - she loved him too.

How could this man just return and take what was his? How could a gladiator, the lowest of the low, generate so much adoration and respect. Why not Commodus? He was their father, he was the sole reason Maximus was still alive, he could have had him executed on the spot - he would have been just a shadow, a memory, a passing phase the people had forgotten. He had made another mistake, he should have had Maximus shot by his archers there on the spot, the moment he removed his helmet. His every breath now was a defiance and his children would soon follow suit - how long before they ran him out of the palace? He was relieved that this was the end - now the hero would die. A hero's death.

They embrace him like he's one of their own. He was clapping, he didn't realise he was clapping.

The mob is fickle brother. He'll be forgotten in a month.

He laughed inside his head. Oh, how little his sister knew. He knew her secret, he knew she still felt for him and because of this he knew she would be pained to watch him die, but she had Lucius, dear sweet Lucius who would always be there to protect her. He would tease her though, he liked to tease her, she hated being left out of things.

No, much sooner than that. It has been arranged. There it was again, that look of fear in her normally emotionless face. He smiled slightly at her and turned to face the gladiators, waiting for her to question him as to what he meant, but no question came.

We who are about to die salute you.

How dare that ignorant oaf not salute him? He was blatantly insolent towards him. Commodus was enraged, and he knew Maximus knew this - the man was smiling, smiling at Commodus' misfortune. How dare he?

The fight began and the two brutes dealt blow by blow.

He didn't salute me. He gripped the arms of his chair and shuffled about, irritated.

I wouldn't worry about it, clearly he is doomed to die. Lucilla seemed annoyed, Commodus didn't care, he knew she would be. That was it, he was finished talking to her at this moment in time, he was all grown up for the hour.

Insolent Spaniard thinks he can disrespect me? Me, Commodus emperor of Rome? I can hardly say I'm surprised, but not to worry. It will all be over soon.

The first tiger was released and clawed at the enemy. Commodus smiled inwardly to himself.

You weren't expecting that, were you?

The battle continued, with more tigers and hits. Sometimes Maximus had fallen and other times Tigris had. It kept the crowd on the edge of their seats, wanting more - he had delivered all of this for them. He had shown them light in their otherwise bleak lives, surely now they would appreciate him?

It was so hard for this boy to grow in his father's image. He was preened and trained to become emperor, right down to the gestures of his hands. He read over his father's meditations and absorbed all knowledge like a sponge. He learned from his, his father's and others mistakes and grew slowly. Unfortunately depression had gripped him at a young age. Without a mother and father, it was only natural to have your thoughts dominated by death and darkness. He cried often at night and whenever he slept he had amazingly horrific nightmares accompanied by visions of his dead mother watching him within his room. Now she was joined by his father, both taunted him. He had forgotten what it was like to be happy.

So imagine the disappointment he felt when his father named a foreigner his heir? Everything Commodus had worked for disappeared like a vapour, he did what he had to do - he killed his father for the greatness of Rome, it was the right thing to do.

He went over these thoughts again and again before he realised Maximus was winning, having slain one of the tigers he now stood over his opponent awaiting the emperors decision.

What do the crowd want?

He looked at each face and all were saying 'kill'. He was apprehensive, surely if he put his thumb down Maximus would disobey him again? He would have to take the chance - the happiness of his people came first. He stood cautiously, clearly disappointed his plan has failed. He stretched his arm out and gave the thumbs down signal, all he could do now was watch.

Maximus threw the axe to the side, causing a look of hate to briefly flicker across Commodus' face. How dare he defy me yet again? He smiled to please the crowd, then left the box - he was going to have words with Maximus.

He approached the gladiator to boos from the crowd. How could they hate him when he had done nothing wrong? He was the merciful one, Maximus would be dead now if he had not spared his life.

What am I going to do with you, you simply won't...die. Are we so different, you and I? You take life when you have to, as I do.

I only have one more life to take and then it is done.

Commodus was tired of the idle threats and failed plans. He was fed up, suicidal - he had failed again, it was now a habit he sorely wished he was rid of. How on earth could he keep getting everything so wrong? He wouldn't get it wrong again - this would end, here and now.

Then take it now. He was wishing it, he wanted to die and he wanted his death to be seen out by Maximus the merciful. But he was walking away - how could he please him? He would make him kill him, he just didn't see the point in continuing his painful existence any longer.

They tell me your son squealed like a girl when they nailed him to the cross....and your wife, moaned like a whore when they ravaged her again, and again, and again. Was this true? He didn't know. The only news he heard from that escapade was that it was successful. Did they ravage her? Was the boy nailed to a cross? He had no clue as to what happened, so he lied. He was provoking the gladiator, he wanted the coward to kill the emporer, his brother, in front of the emperor's children. He simply wanted to die - was that too much to ask?

The time for honouring yourself will soon be at an end, Highness.

Maximus left, left without so much as a killing glance. Commodus was surprised, he had suffered two failures in two moments, how on earth was he so good at failing?

It was like a nightmare - a big nightmare. One he was about to wake up from.