Maximus Must Die

Chapter Eight

A sweet kiss from a bitter memory long past lingered on his lips as he stirred; taking in his surroundings once his nap had ended. He must have fallen asleep when he was brooding on his chair, most likely from his eruption earlier. He blinked several times with his big sad eyes and stretched before finally standing and looking in the mirror. He was clad in his armour, ready to fulfil this final task before Maximus departed.

What he was about to do was cowardly, he knew that, but at least he would still fight Maximus, he could have just as easily had him executed. This was the last act he would perform before the world was rid of the Spaniard and it would be the act he was best remembered and loved for - defeating their god.

All paths have led to this; Maximus must die and will do so by my hand. Please Mars, give me strength.

The sun was high, hanging over the Colosseum, beckoning the emperor to it's floor to meet his destiny. In his heart he knew the outcome, if he looked deep enough into that cell, he could see his lifeless body cluttering the floor. He refused to accept it though, refused to think about the 'what if's', that's what stopped Maximus from dying the first time. He took a final moment to study his body, gathered himself and left to pay a final visit to his brother.

His pulse was racing and his stomach trying to catch up with it as he entered the prisons beneath the arena. It was a horrid place that stunk of filth and ill morals, but he ventured in nevertheless and marched up to Maximus, aware of the beady eyes of Gracchus and the gladiators. He didn't care what these men thought of him, their fate was sealed, although he felt pity for them in a strange way - they'd miss the final show.

Look at him there, still mocking me with his tired smile even though his hope has been extinguished. He must think I'm here to kill him, well I'll surprise him and when we fight he'll be surprised further. It's strange that it has all led to this. Sometimes I laugh at my life, the bitter irony of it all, it is the only time I smile. I wonder if Maximus laughs about his life, his position, what he has done to me. I wonder. The crowd call for him, the heavens call for him...I will send him to both.

Maximus. Maximus. Maximus. They call for you. The general who became a slave. The slave who became a gladiator. The gladiator who defied an emperor. Striking story. Now the people want to know how the story ends. Only a famous death will do. What could be more glorious than to challenge the emperor himself in the great arena? Commodus placed his finger alongside Maximus' face, stroking it as he spoke


You would fight me?

He seemed so surprised, good.

Why not? Do you think I am afraid? He wasn't afraid; even if he died he wasn't afraid. I think you have been afraid all your life. Unlike Maximus the invincible, who knows no fear? Commodus strangely admired Maximus' reluctance to show his fear. Commodus was afraid of many things: neglect, the dark, loneliness... I knew a man who once said, death smiles at us all. All that man can do is smile back.

Commodus wondered what the nature of Maximus' laughter was, it vexed him. Perhaps he was laughing at his life?

I wonder. Did your friend smile at his own death?

You must know. He was your father.

You loved my father, I know. But so did I. That makes us brothers, doesn't it? Brothers. A fine brother Maximus was, betraying Commodus then plotting with his sister to kill him, family. But all family were manipulative, Commodus did not know any different.

Commodus embraced Maximus and uncovered a dagger that had been hidden in his sleeve, proceeding to thrust it into his left side. He then kissed him on the neck. Blood immediately ran from the wound. Smile for me now, brother! His anger was evident in his eyes; he needed to end it all. He was ashamed of the way he was going to win, but it was either that or have Maximus executed, loosing the respect of his people.

Strap on his armour. Conceal the wound.

The trap door opened and the lift rose, encircled with the Praetorian as they stood behind their black shields. There, in the middle, stood the accidental enemies, Commodus in white and Maximus in black, staring upwards awaiting the praise from above. If only you had taken my hand, brother, you may have spared your family. Once they reached the floor of the arena, the Praetorian took their ring formation, creating a barrier between the spectacle and the crowd. Maximus stumbled to the centre holding his left arm close to his body protecting his wound. So weak, so feeble. He stooped to pick up a handful of sand and reached for his sword, but Quintus tossed it onto the ground out of Maximus' reach. He picked it up and immediately charged for Commodus.

Maximus went for Commodus and Commodus for Maximus before the general knocked the boy's legs from underneath him. He fell to the ground with a thud. A minor setback, you can still continue. He picked himself up and struck Maximus fiercely, but Maximus swung his sword back at Commodus with great force. Commodus swung again, this time slicing the bronzed flesh of the Spaniards leg as he spun around. The wound immediately bled crimson. I've made the first hit, I've turned the tables. He's stumbling. Maximus maintained his balance and charged for the Emperor again, cutting the wan skin below the white armour and his sword fatally fell from his grasp. Commodus stood there, unarmed, alone, naked. It's dark, it's all gone dark - where is everyone? He looked blankly at the people, lost, then at Maximus, who was playing some sort of miming game. He's insane, or dying.

Sword, give me your sword. Quintus stood, defying the ruler in the new trend. Sword, someone give me a sword. They were offering him one...

Sheath your swords. The Praetorians complied, leaving Commodus isolated once again. He looked at Lucilla, she was dying in the heart - she was out of his reach, he'd lost her.

He took out the dagger from his sleeve and ran for Maximus. Maximus struck Commodus with his first, punching with great force before butting his head with his elbow. The realisation that he was loosing gripped his throat and he found himself unable to breathe, but he accepted his fate if that was to be - but he wouldn't stop trying yet. He struck back but the gladiator grabbed Commodus and with one hand cupping the back of Commodus' head, the other forced the dagger back into Commodus as he punched back, relentlessly trying to fight off Maximus. In a flash of a second when all hope had faded, fear commandeered the sad eyes of the lonely emperor as Maximus plunged the dagger into Commodus' throat, deeper and deeper until it could go no further. He fell to the ground.