Chapter 32: The Night Between Two Worlds

Commodus got on a horse as did Aislinn's father and brothers. The rest of the leaders of the clans were also on horseback. Commodus rode beside them as they discussed the battle plan.

"You're the most familiar with the mannerisms of Roman warriors, Commodus. We need counsel from someone who was in the Roman ranks.", Dhiarmid said. "What do you say that we do?"

Commodus frowned and looked down slightly. "I was never in the military. I chose not to be. Maximus and Quintus trained with these men we will face, they will know what to do.", Commodus said. Dhiarmid nodded and the group came to a halt. The men rode over to the Romans that were marching with the Celts. Claude had chosen to stay behind with Aislinn involuntarily. Involuntarily here meaning that Commodus could not bear the thought of Claude dying, he had already given up enough for his emperor and honour. Maximus and Quintus both looked up as their superiors in the current ranks approached. "Maximus, how do you recommend we find them and end the battle?"

"They attacked from the southeast that night. That was the direction Aislinn was facing away from when the two of you were attacked. Romans will attack from the same angle if they underestimate their enemy.", he explained.

"Falco is not one to simply underestimate.", Quintus added.

"No, but he believes Commodus to be weak and stupid. He also sees the Celts as primitive, in that we have the advantage. He won't be expecting the numbers or the cleverness.", Maximus said with a smile. "We should head southeast, but keep ourselves at the front. Once the men see us, things will be a little different. I doubt that any of them believed that you could do anything as brave as facing Aislinn with the intent to die."

"Good, then we still have a small touch of the element of surprise.", Commodus remarked.

"Absoloutely. Lead the way.", Quintus said proudly. Commodus told Dhiarmid the plan. The men that didn't give their loyalty to Maximus or Quintus would be killed very quickly by the huge army of angry clansmen. Once they had been found, they would go in and rescue little Samson. It would take them a few hours to get there since they couldn't be too far already. The group thundered forward with a determined young father at the head of the troop.

At the small encampment, Samson's piercing cries could be heard for miles. The men wondered why they had been ordered to keep the little whelp alive, it made no sense. Falco told them that he wanted the traitors to suffer. They still found this very silly and selfish, but they were under the impression that they had been sent on a mission to undo the evil that the Celts had wrought against the royal family. Lucilla had ordered it, they had been told. Falco had been a poor actor in his youth, but now he played every wicked role he selected with vicious precision, and no act was too demeaning for him. Falco came out of his tent, growling. It was nearing nightfall and the baby was still crying as he had done off and on all day. Falco looked at the captain of this small army.

"Go and shut that brat up!", he ordered.

"Sir, it's a baby. Babies cry. Women tend to them so that the men have peace. The child longs for his mother.", the captain explained. "It would be more merciful and practical to kill it."

"Then do so and bring me the body.", Falco snarled. The captain bowed and went into Falco's tent where they were keeping Samson in a crate. He walked over to the wooden box and looked down into it. Even for all the lives he had mercilessly taken, he couldn't bring himself to slaughter a child so young it hadn't even been weaned yet. He sighed and took out his dagger. He held it up to Samson, but then put it down. Perhaps he could do something else to appease Falco. A loud shout came from outside. He hurried out of the tent, still holding Samson akwardly, to see what was going on. What he saw shocked him. He had expressed to Falco the concern that they had made camp in too obvious of a place, and if the Celts wanted vengance for the stolen half-breed they would carry it out swiftly and efficiently. Falco had dismissed it saying that the Celts hated Commodus and would make no attempt to fight them, besides, the Romans were by far stronger and in greater numbers than just the clan at the fortress. They really had not counted on surrounding allies to rally to the aide of the child and his parents. Now a battle-hardened army of stalwart clansmen stood a few feet away, ready to shed blood. They had moved quickly and very quietly into the camp from the surrounding woods. How on earth had they learned to be so quiet even in great numbers? The captain stood at attention. As he stared at the front row of angry Celts, he saw two men step to the front of the group, in Roman attire. These faces were very familiar. One was Quintus, former head of the Praetorian guard and general of Rome's military; the second was Maximus Decimus Meridias, former commander of the Felix legions and champion gladiator. Neither were to be taken lightly.

"Matlian, captain of this troop, step forward.", Maximus said loudly. Maltian placed Samson in another man's arms as he walked towards them. He bowed a little and looked up at him inquisitively.

"Maximus, what are you doing here? What about you, Quintus?", he asked.

"We have followed the commands of Caesar to come and look after him and his family. He has returned Rome to the rule of the senate. What brings you here? Come all this way just to kidnap a hapless infant?", Maximus replied.

"Senator Falco came into Brittania with four guards last year. He told us of the Caesar and the Celtess that overtook him. We are here to carry out the vengance Lady Lucilla has commanded.", Maltian explained with a

salute.

"Lucilla gave no such order. I have been in direct contact with her for the past year.", Quintus interjected. "Falco was ordered executed by the emperor and here you are serving him."

"I was not aware of this. I and the rest of my hundred men have been in Brittania for nearly five years now."

"Then you are still loyal to the empire?", a new voice said as a horse and rider appeared. Maltian looked up, stunned. He recognized the much older form of the prince that had become emperor. He bowed low. "I am here to retrieve my son and make sure that the sentence against Falco is carried out. Give both of them to me."

Maltian turned to the rest of the men. He looked for the one he had handed Samson to. The man was standing there, but Samson was not with him. Maltian gulped. He turned back. "Give me a moment to locate him, sire."

"And what of your men?", Quintus asked.

"I will send them back to the border of Brittania. This part of the highlands is too dangerous for them I think.", Maltian said.

"Then they have an escort.", Commodus said and motioned for the warriors behind him to group around the men. "Take theses men back to the border. If they resist or turn back once to help Falco, kill them."

"Aye!", the men yelled in unison. The Roman soldiers looked very confused as the band of Celts that had obviously hungered for their blood, simply surrounded them and started towards the south. Commodus smiled and looked back at Aislinn's four brothers and father. They could now go and retrieve Samson. This was going to be easier than he had anticipated.

"Where is my son?", he asked Maltian as the desperate soldier turned to look more for the man that must have been handed the child. No one in the group was holding the baby. He frowned and went angrily into Falco's tent. The group heard Maltian cry out and then Samson begin to wail loudly. Commodus felt anger rise bitterly within him. Had he been a wolf, the mane that lay in secret on his neck would have stood upright. Commodus jumped off of the horse rather clumsily due to his recent injury, but ignored the pain and hurried inside. Maltian lay on the ground, a dagger impaled cruelly in his face. At the other end of the tent, Falco stood angrily grasping Samson.

Commodus opened his mouth to call for the others. Falco held a second dagger up to Samson's tiny neck. "Go ahead, call for them. It will be a touching final sentiment for the brat to hear.", Falco sneered. "Order them to leave, tell them you wil handle this alone or the boy will die."

Commodus hesitated. He looked at Falco directly, searching his eyes to see if this man was truly capable of such evil. Falco held the blade so tight that a trickle of blood began streaming down the poor infant's neck. "How many little boys must shed their blood for you, Commodus?", Falco snarled cruelly. "How many?!"

"Go back to the castle, I will handle this alone! I must handle this myself!", Commodus yelled.

"Aye lad, good luck.", Dhiarmid said. He looked at the other men and they nodded to one another. They smacked their horses and hid as Falco came menacingly to the front of the tent to check. He held the blade, unmovingly at the boy's throat. He looked back at Commodus and snickered when he saw the legs of the last horse leaving.

"Even your new family abandons you. It seems the only person willing to stand beside you died at your hands, highness.", Falco sneered. Commodus looked at him in confusion. "I wonder, would Immaus have followed you to the highlands?" Commodus gasped as Falco reared up to slit the child's throat.

((I haven't stopped, work conditions prevented me from posting last night! Expect the next chapter tomorrow and the end the next day! I'm so excited!!!)))