Shadows and Dust
Part 3: all is not wellPetilius awoke the next morning. He cursed as the harsh sunlight made him wince, his head pounding unmercifully. He glanced at the almost empty amphora of wine beside his bed, wearily he grasped the bottle and drained the contents in one long gulp. Grunting, he sat up – only to freeze as the contents of his stomach threatened to spill onto the wooden floor. Slowly he stood up and stiffly pulled on his Praetorian uniform, waiting for Quintus to bring the days orders.
Quintus awoke, blinking rapidly to clear the sleepy haze from his eyes. Seeing blue sky above him, he panicked, not knowing where he was. Clumsily he jumped to his feet, reaching for his sword, and almost falling over in his haste to see his unseen enemy behind him who laughed so mockingly. Quintus lowered his eyes in embarrassment as he stood face to face with Maximus, who did not bother to disguise his laugh at his friends confusion.
"Sleep well, Quintus?" Maximus joked. Quintus stared back sleepily.
"Like a baby." He grunted, "You look better." He added, noticing that Maximus was up and about. Maximus nodded.
"Be on our way soon." Quintus looked at him in confusion.
"Be on our way where?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"Ostia. Cicero saw me in the games and told the Felix that I was a Gladiator in Rome. Not surprisingly they didn't believe him, so I escaped, with his help. When they know the truth, and see me alive we will march on Rome. But since you've made an appearance we'll have to wait until Argento is sound. It shouldn't be more than 2 days." Quintus stared at his friend wide eyed.
"March on Rome?" He asked incredulously. Maximus' face clouded in anger.
"Do you think that Id let that bastard get away with what he did? Marcus never intended for him to rule. When he found this out he murdered his father, then came after me. My family were crucified, and burnt alive – but that was all part of the game for Commodus." He said bitterly. His loss bringing tears to his eyes.
"But why you?" Quintus asked, confused. Maximus turned and started Quintus in the eye, so that Quintus could see the answer. "You?" he asked, Maximus nodded sadly.
"What would you have me do Caesar?"
"I want you to become protector of Rome after I die. I will empower you to one end alone. To give power back to the people of Rome, and end the corruption that has crippled it. Do you accept this great honour I ofer you?"
"With all my heart; no."
"Maximus. That is why it must be you."
"The Emperor chose you?" Quintus asked, incredulous. Maximus nodded.
"I refused, but the Emperor was adamant that I took the position. He gave me until sunset to decide. I can only think that he told his son of his choice before anyone else." Maximus spat out the word 'son' so full of hate and derision, that it made Quintus wince.
"You refused?" Quintus asked, amazed. Maximus stared at him angrily.
"I don't want it, Quintus. I have never sought power…" Quintus snorted, jealous of Maximus power and position he had had in the army.. "I never aimed to be the Emperor's general, Quintus. But the army is something I have a talent for, and I am not ashamed at that. I have never wanted power, but I found that leadership came easily to me, and where I led, my men followed. But all I wanted was to return home, to be Maximus the farmer, rather than Maximus the general. To be with my family, not my men. But my family are gone – and my men are all I have left. I had been away from my wife, my son – my home for almost 3 years Quintus, and for what? For what? What I fought for is dead, it died the moment Commodus struck down the man I loved like a father, and then took away my chance to become one once again." Quintus stared at his friend aghast.
"You fought for Rome!" he exclaimed
"And what is Rome, Quintus? I had never seen her, yet I served her with all of my being. To me Marcus was Rome and that was all that mattered. What I have seen of the city has been from a slave wagon, and it is not the place of light that I once thought it to be. It is as corrupt and dirty as its ruler. But the people don't see this; they are blinded by Commodus' generosity. They thrive on the death and destruction of the games, not seeing that the money is dwindling the cities funds. Within months the people will be disease ridden and starving. That was not the Rome of Marcus Aurelius!" Maximus fumed with rage, he winced at the nagging ache in his side that wouldn't go away, and had proceeded to ache with a vengeance. Quintus stared at Maximus, pondering his words.
Petillius stood in front of Commodus, trying to keep calm, despite the Emperor's icy cool façade.
"And where is Quintus?" Commodus asked, his tone devoid of any emotion. Petillius stared at the imperial crest on the wall, as Commodus walked slow deliberate circles around him.
"He told us…" Petillius cleared his throat, those three words had come out in a frightened croak. "He told us to go back to camp. That he would be back later. He needed a woman." Petillius added, braver now.
"And when was this?" Commodus asked in the same tone.
"2 days ago Caesar. We waited for him to return, but he didn't. I sent scouts to look for him, but we found no sign. We waited in camp for another day, Caesar. The we returned." He was trembling.
"2 days…" Commodus said thoughtfully. "Then he is dead, taken by thieves. Or he met Maximus. The outcome is the same." He said with a small smile, which vanished quickly when Petillius interrupted.
"Quintus and Maximus were friends, Caesar. Good friends as I recall." Commodus looked at him, irritated.
"But Quintus arrested Maximus…and is no doubt feeling guilty for destroying their friendship." He added, remembering the way that Maximus had forgiven Quintus when he had seen him after the battle of Carthage. Petillius smiled, hoping to win the favour of his emperor. No matter how corrupt he may be.
"So, we find Quintus. We find Maximus." Commodus thought out loud. He looked at Petillius, and decided that this was a man that would carry out orders without question.
"Quintus is well liked by his men, isn't he?" he asked. Petillius looked the emperor in the eye and lied.
"Only by some sire, many despise Quintus' sudden promotion to commander of the Imperial Guard. He is indecisive and lazy." Commodus smiled at the poorly disguised lie, realising it for what it was. The men would follow Petillius.
"Then take the men, and dispatch of him. Do it quietly. I don't want a fuss." Petillius knew exactly what he meant. Quintus was to simply disappear.
Maximus limped towards where the horses were tethered. He muttered loving words to Argento as he stroked the powerful neck. He moved to Argento's hind legs and examined the wound. The swelling had gone down considerably, and the heat that signalled infection had left the joint. He stood up slowly, cursing at the pain in his leg. He moved towards Hercules, smiling when the big grey saw him coming. Maximus loved this powerful horse almost as much as Argento. He was skittish, and not nearly as skittish or serious as Argento but he knew when to behave. When he matured he would make a perfect war-horse. Maximus smiled at the grey.
"Shall we go for a ride?" he asked, the horse nickered in response, making Maximus laugh. "OK then Hercules" he said, slipping on the horses bridle, and vaulted nimbly onto the horses back despite his injury. Maximus whistled shrilly, and Marcus bounded happily to his side. Cicero looked up from his sleep at the sudden noise, alarmed when he saw Maximus on Hercules.
"Maximus, where are you going?" Maximus spun the horse around and smiled at his friend who was pawing sleep from his eyes.
"Don't worry Cicero. I will be back soon." He answered with a grin, before cantering into the forest. That man will make someone a lovely wife one-day! Maximus couldn't control his laughter at the thought. Hercules, sensing his master's happiness broke into a gallop.
Maximus smiled. He loved the feeling of the horse underneath him, the harmony of horse and rider. The feeling of being able to fly as his horse galloped easily beneath him. He was so caught up in the feeling of freedom that he was caught unawares when Hercules came to a sudden halt, the momentum from the gallop throwing Maximus onto his neck. Maximus didn't move, but lay still against his horses neck, eyes closed trying to fight the pain in his ribs. He opened his eyes as he felt Hercules tense beneath him, ears forward and head held high. His entire body quivering – ready to flee at a moments notice. Maximus saw what had spooked his horse, and became as tense as his mount.
A century of Praetorians marched in the valley below Maximus. No doubt looking for him. Maximus sat up slowly, ignoring the throbbing in his sides. Slowly he turned Hercules back towards camp and walked silently away. As soon as he was sure he was out of earshot of the Praetorians, he kicked Hercules into a mad gallop.
Cicero and Quintus were skinning a rabbit that Quintus had miraculously caught from Argento, by dropping a net onto the unfortunate creature. They were unprepared for Maximus' arrival. The General emerged from the trees at full gallop. Hercules, sensing his riders urgency was pushing himself to the limit, covering the ground in huge strides. Maximus pulled him to a halt beside his friends. They stared up at him aghast. Never before had they seen Maximus so dishevelled.
"Praetorians!" he panted, almost as breathless as his horse. "In the next valley. We need to move!" Maximus looked about him wild eyed. He knew that he was panicking, but he couldn't let them catch him. Couldn't go back. Although he had despised being a Gladiator, he had never realised how much the games had scared him until now.
Quintus stared up at Maximus. So they had sent a new scout for him. Commodus must think him dead – or want his just as badly as Maximus.
Maximus dismounted, careful not to let his wounded leg take the impact as he dropped to the ground. Hercules lowered his head to the ground, panting for breath. For a moment Maximus thought his wind was broken, but was relieved when his breathing eased moments later.
Cicero, sensing the urgency of the situation gathered his few things and strode towards Scarto, whom he mounted easily. Maximus gathered his belongings, pulling his currias over his tunic, and placing wolf furs over Argento's shoulders. He the pinned a grey woollen cape around his shoulders, hoping to conceal the uniform. Quintus looked at Maximus. "What about Argento?" Maximus answered the question by mounting the stallion, leaving Hercules for Quintus.
"Lets go!" Maximus urged, fear getting the better of him, and nudged Argento into a trot. He felt bad about having to ride the injured horse before he was fully healed, but he knew that he would rather ride him, that let Cicero or Quintus.
Cicero looked at Quintus, still holding Hercules' reins, before following Maximus' fleeing form on Scarto. Suddenly alone, Hercules screamed – afraid now his friends had left him. Quintus looked up at the frightened horse, before quickly mounting him. Hercules hardly gave Quintus time to mount before galloping into the forest in the direction that Maximus had taken.
Maximus reined in Argento, waiting for the rest of the party to catch up. Marcus lay at his feet, grateful for the rest. Argento stamped his foot impatiently, and Maximus flinched at the harsh sound, hoping that the Praetorians hadn't heard him. He stroked the strong dark neck, glad to be riding Argento again, the horse calmed, soothed by Maximus' touch. Maximus disliked pushing Argento so hard so soon after his injury, but 5 days rest, with the wound wrapped in strips of cold, wet cloth had done wonder for the stallion. He was still slightly lame, and the remaining lameness had disappeared as soon as the joint had loosened up. He knew that once they had reached safety, the wound would most likely become inflamed again.
Maximus jerked his head up as he heard galloping horses, and smiled as he saw Hercules bring an ashen faced Quintus to his side.
"Only you…" Quintus gasped "…would buy a horse like this!" Maximus chuckled. Quintus had never been a skilled horseman, despite coming from a high ranking senatorial family.
"There is nothing wrong with my horses." Maximus grinned as Hercules reared as Marcus ran between his legs. "You just need to understand them." He chuckled as Quintus cursed Hercules for his stupidity.
Cicero cantered up easily on Scarto. He took in Maximus' grin, and Quintus' dishevelled appearance and immediately broke into an infectious grin.
"Miss something?" he asked in his Gaelic drawl. Quintus just stared at him.
"Nothing, nothing at all." He said curtly, urging Hercules forwards. Maximus and Cicero chuckled before following silently.