PART 5 - IN THE ARMY NOW

Commodus stared down onto the sands of the Colisseum, looking at the offal that had once been his Praetorian Guard – now no more than lumps of useless meat, over which the lions fought. He turned slowly to look at the other guards in the royal box in turn.

"Prey that they are found!" he hissed. Quickly he stalked away, leaving the guards to follow, pondering their fate.

Quintus strolled into the main camp area, he was looking for a legate named Julius. A man he knew he could trust with the news that Maximus was still alive. He froze as he saw Julius walk to his tent alone. Silently he followed, the young man. He waited until he was directly behind the legate before he spoke.

"Julius, turn around…slowly…" Julius spun, his sword at Quintus' throat in an instant

"Julius…"

"You bastard!" Julius hissed "You killed Maximus!" Quintus spoke slowly, desperate not to aggravate Julius any more.

"Julius, Maximus is here."

"I don't believe you…"

"He escaped his execution, he is here!" Julius lowered his sword fractionally.

"Say I believe you. Why are you here? What do you want?" he hissed warily.

"I'll let Maximus explain. Just get some good men – no less than 15. We will meet up with Cicero at the stable block before moving on. We must be fast…" Quintus warned, Julius nodded.

"Is the General in trouble?" Quintus grimaced.

"Probably…" he said softly, before leaving the legate alone and confused.

Maximus stared defiantly at the 6 men that had him surrounded. They had made no move to sheath their weapons. He drew himself to his full height – he was not overly tall, but his furs added to his now muscular bulk and made him a foreboding sight.

"Once again, I am the General of the Felix Legions. I am your commanding officer. You swore an oath of loyalty to the emperor or Rome. I am the emperors general. That oath includes loyalty to me and the army, as well as to Rome. If you refuse me, you will die…" Claudius interrupted Maximus, he spoke loudly, his voice edged with barely disguised humour.

"Who are you to decide who lives and dies Maximus? You are outnumbered 6 to 1…you are like a rat. Vermin. Backed into a corner with no possible means of escape, and yet you still fight!"

Maximus showed no sign that he had heard Claudius, but kept his attention on the men who surrounded him.

"This is your last chance – sheath your swords!" The guards stood fast. "Fine!" Maximus hissed.

Quintus grinned as he saw Julius approaching with 6 men, another 15 followed, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Julius grinned as he approached Quintus, who was bent over examining Scarto's hoof. Julius stamped to attention, before risking a sidelong glance at Quintus…

"That's a whole new side of you…Sir!" he quickly added the honorific when he saw Quintus' face, the man had never been good with humour, but this once he smiled at the Legate.

"Julius, I am glad to see you!" he exclaimed. Julius had done well, and he was starting to believe that this foolhardy plan of Maximus' could work. Julius grinned.

"We're here sir. What now?"

"I want 2 men at every exit to the camp. No man, letter, parcel…anything is to leave! Understand?" Julius nodded.

"Now, the rest of us will move on the generals tent. He has 2 guards outside. They'll have to go…quietly." Julius nodded again, showing no apprehension about killing his fellow Romans. "10 men will then surround the tent, another 10 will enter with me, swords at the ready. We move on the count of 200."

Maximus stepped forward, his sword still low in his hand. He stared at the man opposite him – his blue eyes as cold as ice. Without taking his eyes off the man, Maximus lunged, and the man to his right was dead, his throat slit. The man ahead of his remained untouched. Slowly, a cold smile began to form on Maximus' face.

Quintus counted to 200, and decided that it was time to move, he looked at his mall band of men and smiled slowly.

"Lets go!" As Quintus emerged into the open he could see the Generals tent 200 yards away. There were no guards and his smile grew wider.

Seconds after Maximus had killed his first enemy, he sensed a man approaching him from behind. Still staring at the man ahead of him, he flipped the blade in his hand and thrust backwards. A second guard was down, blood pooling on the floor from the wound in his belly. Instantly a man to his left lunged at him, without hesitating, Maximus caught his sword in his left hand and beheaded his attacker. His grin grew wider, he had killed 3 men in less than 20 seconds. Without taking his eyes off the men in front of him, he bent and picked up a 2nd sword. He twirled them expertly in his hands as he advanced on the 3 remaining men.

Quintus led his men towards Claudius' tent. Julius and his men had the tent surrounded, and he nodded his tanks at them as he stalked to the tent. He was just beginning to pull the canvas door back when he froze. Silently he watched Maximus kill 3 men in seconds. His breath caught in his throat as Maximus levelled his sword at his chest.

"Step in where I can see you!" he hissed. Quintus moved slowly into the tent, his men following. Maximus chuckled when he saw him. "Put you hands down Quintus, you look ridiculous!" Quintus grinned, masking the awe and fear he now held of his friend. He stared at the floor, unable to take his eyes off the dead guards. His men doing the same. Quintus jumped as Maximus shouted.

"Don't move!" He growled at Claudius, who was trying to make his way towards the back door of the tent. The old general froze, and Maximus grinned as he realised that the older man was shaking in fear. Slowly he stalked towards the older man, who was backing away in vain. He whimpered as his back hit the wall of his tent and fearfully watched Maximus approach.

Maximus stopped inches away from Claudius, he spoke low, for his words were for only the old man.

"Your men were nothing to me…Nothing! I spent 18 months killing some of the best gladiators in them empire. Did you hear the tales of 'The Spaniard' here in Ostia?" Maximus asked, knowing that the tales of his feats in the arena were legendary. "I am the Spaniard Claudius, and yet you expect to hold me with 6 men…" Maximus stopped, letting the thought hang heavy in the air as he changed subject. "What has the emperor promised you Claudius? These men should be training, and yet they drink and party like whores! You fritter away your days in a tent fit for the emperor himself, and surround yourself with guards to fulfil your petty self importance…And you! The emperor brings you out of retirement, to take my place! The whole army knows you are a joke, Claudius. A lap dog to the emperor! You are old Claudius, but that is no fault you can remedy. But you are also weak…and stupid. And those faults are grave indeed. You dither like an old man, whilst your men fight and die for you. You are unworthy of this position. You are unworthy of Rome. And you are unworthy of my time! With each statement, Maximus had raised his voice so that the others in the tent could hear him. With one last cold look at Claudius, Maximus turned away.

"Quintus, fetch some good men. I want this man restrained and guarded." He stared defiantly at Claudius as the older man was led away.

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Authors note: Ok guys - I am unbelievably sorry for keeping you waiting for this part. I have been so busy with work, and university that I haven't had the time to even think about picking up from where I left off. Im not proud of this chapter, I had become so distanced from this story, I have found it hard to get back into it, so I think it is the worst of the lot! I hope to have the next part done soon, but Im still really busy so don't count on it!

Please R&R and keep a poor student happy!