PART III

Up on the roof that night we watched the stars. The apartment was on the top floor and a small staircase led on to the flat-topped roof flanked by a low parapet and magnificent views of the City. The night was sultry and humid, airless and still, and we had come up to escape the stifling heat of the apartment.

"So hot! I can hardly breathe. There is not even a whisper of a breeze," I remarked, fanning myself with my hand and dabbing at my neck with a damp cloth.

Maximus poured a cup of wine and brought it to me. "Here, a cool drink." As he handed it to me, I smiled and our eyes locked. He helped me to a sip and then I did the same for him. Placing the cup on the balustrade, he pulled me closer, one hand on the back of my head, another playing with my curls. His lips tasted of sweet wine and I murmured as I savoured him, aware once more of my inability to withhold myself from his will. He had only to touch me and I was his.  As we stood there so close together, his kiss became more passionate, more demanding and he pressed me back against the parapet, tumbling the cup of wine onto the cobbles beneath.

"Stop, Maximus, stop! A moment," I broke through, trying to think clearly. "We need to talk."

He nodded and sat down, pulling me onto his lap but calmer now, more himself. 

"I may not be pregnant. Therefore we must take no further risks. We will have to...I don't know...just be careful. Maximus, you cannot come inside me." I held his face in my hands so that he could not look away; I needed to see his reaction.

"I know. For now. Until we have made our decision. But if you stay...I want a child. Do you understand that?" He played with my hair and watched my reaction as carefully as I had observed his; his lips were pursed and his eyes stern - he was not about to be crossed on this.

"Of course. If I stay... I will be your wife. Then I will give you children. But I have not decided yet. I need more time." His face softened and a smile formed on his lips.

"But you may be carrying my child already. My son. What would he be like?" His hand slipped down to caress my stomach. I writhed beneath his touch.

"A little tough guy. Won't cry even when he is hurt... but when no one is looking he will climb onto his mother's knee for comfort, "I grinned and stroked his hair. "Were you once a little boy like that?"

"I was. I still am," he teased and nuzzled at my ear, but he spoke the truth. He needed love and longed for a woman's comfort. Years of living alone in a man's world seemed to have made him more, not less, vulnerable to a woman's touch.

"But what if it is a little girl? Will you be disappointed?"

This time a chuckle, "Only if she looks like me." We both giggled.

"A girl with your shoulders and thighs might not thank you for them!"

He smiled broadly and ran his forefinger down my face, pouting his lips slightly. "A daughter in your image. Now that would be a delight."

"Who dotes on her father and is completely spoiled by you, no doubt." I added laughing.

"Of course," he smirked, knowingly.

"With pale green eyes, like the sea," I whispered into his ear.

He snorted. "You are too sentimental, woman!"

"What's wrong with sentiment? It was sentiment that brought us here." It was true. Love had made us take this awesome step into the unknown.

He raised me to my feet and stood up. "Come, it is late. The light is poor. Let us go to bed."

"It's too hot," I moaned. "I miss my air con."

"It will get hotter yet before I am done with you, my lady," he growled and lunged for me.

I evaded his grasp and ran inside, trying to close the shutters against him to keep him outside but he was too fast and too strong. His arm held the door and he easily pushed against me. I dashed inside but he was on me, knocking aside a small table and throwing me onto the bed. We both collapsed laughing, with me feigning resistance and he rolling over me to hold me down.

"You would ravish me, lord?" I taunted.

"Without a second thought," he grunted, "and you would love it, you wanton hussy." His hand ran up my stola and he roughly tore away the loincloth that I was now at last learning how to tie.

"Hey, not so fast!" I protested but he took little notice, freeing himself as he held me down with one hand and then rubbing himself against my nakedness.

" Max, be careful!"

"I will. Trust me. I will ensure that I will 'fall on the grassy meadows' as they say. It's an old trick but mostly works." He muttered into my ear as he continued to love me.

"No. That's not good enough." I pulled away from him. " 'Mostly works' is too dangerous- I need better odds than that. Come let me love you with my mouth."  He let me go as I stripped off and he did the same. Naked now we fell upon each other, aroused and hungry for the taste and smell of each other, like hungry kittens lapping at the cream.

Maximus ran his tongue within my dewy folds and flickered at my clitoris; I rose and fell with abandon, close to orgasm already. He buried his head against me, his arms holding me open and exposed to him, my own body responding with an almost primal abandon. I tried to continue feasting on him but I couldn't concentrate so wild was my mood, so exquisite his attentions.

Lying back, I simply held his manhood in one hand, cradled his scrotum in another as he suckled and I allowed myself to climb inexorably to that peak, to drive me even further from my conscious self.

I climaxed and called out his name, rolling over and over trying to free myself from the relentlessness of his mouth. In that moment, he reacted, seizing on my proffered buttocks and raising them before him. He knelt and held me; I felt him reach for something as I lay sobbing my fulfilment. His hands seemed to pour something on me and then I sensed he was rubbing himself with it too. As he replaced the bottle by the bed, I realised it was the perfumed oil the slave girls used. I understood what he intended to do.

"No, Maximus..." I protested half-heartedly.

He shushed me and lay above me. "I will not hurt you. But I must feel you. Please. Let me..." He pushed gently against me and I was helpless. I couldn't have stopped him, nor did I want him to stop. I wanted only to feel his strength and to be the means of his satisfaction- since when had I become this kind of woman?

Sweat dripped from him, ran down my back, oozed onto the sheet beneath us as he took me. I could hear his grunts and feel his hands squeezing my thighs apart, almost too tight, as I braced myself for his onslaught. I trembled in his hands. He was gentle, but insistent. I was already his woman and had little rights to object to his requirements. Did I object? I had behaved like this before, with other men, and never given it a second thought. Why did a part of me feel used and dangerously close to becoming something I had always avoided: a man's plaything?

Later, as he slept, after he had whispered his gratitude to me in sweet words of love and described the possibility of a shared future together, I lay wide awake. The night was hot and the noise from the street was deafening. Rome at night was as crowded and chaotic as day; the law required wheeled traffic and delivery wagons only to cross through the streets of the City after daylight and before dawn and the resultant incessant cacophony of the traffic was unbelievable.

I looked down at Maximus, relaxed and boyish, curled at my side, innocent in his dreams. Rising from the bed, I sat by the open balcony and thought. In the dark night, despite the rowdy cries from down below, I felt a freedom that was missing when I was with him. My mind seemed to be my own for the first time in days.

I pondered on the day we had spent touring the City, visiting temples. One particular experience stayed in my mind. We had visited the temple of Venus on the eastern end of the Forum, within the shadow of the Colosseum. I had chosen this temple, as it seemed to be a fitting place for a woman such as I whose life was spent in the pursuit of amatory adventures.

Stepping through its hallowed portals, dwarfed by the soaring columns, we entered the great prytaneum, the large hall that is the body of an ancient temple, very like the nave of a Christian church. Far ahead was the great statue of the goddess, a giant image clad in gold. One imagines all Roman art was white marble - not so. It was gaudy and painted or gilded with gold leaf with inlaid jewels to depict eyes. Years of abuse and neglect have worn away the colour; gold leaf and jewels have been prised off. The original site reminded me of the bright garishness of a Hindu temple or even the incensed grandeur of the bright golden Buddha images of Thailand.

The air hung heavy with incense, thick with smoke from hundreds of candles and lamps but rising from it all was a sickly miasma, a smell that turned my stomach. As we approached the altar and the statue of the goddess, I saw the cause and wondered that I had never realised it before in all I had read and learnt about sacrifice. The whole area surrounding the altar was filled with death- the bodies of slaughtered animals, blood- drenched floors, fat of the burnt offerings thick on every surface, the stench of dung loosened by animals in the throes of death and the rot of meat raw and cooked. I retched involuntarily at the stench.

Amongst it all, some on their knees, others bathing in the shed blood were women of all ages. I looked in askance at Maximus who shrugged, "Lovesick, unmarried, betrayed, abandoned- who knows?" I shuddered at their plight. All I had intended was a quiet prayer to the Mother to guide me, not this ritualistic charnel house.

A priestess approached and drew us aside. "You require a charm?" She used the word that meant a spell, defixatio, something bewitching. I shook my head but Maximus said yes. "It will do no harm and it may do some good." I pulled a face at his superstition, perhaps unfairly. He is a man of his time- who am I to expect differently? She led us to a side altar where there was a fountain. Here she took a rough pebble and held it to us.

"You can write?"

We nodded and in turn with a sharp stylus, we scratched the abbreviated names on the stone -MAX, UMA- and she linked the names with secret symbols. When she was done she indicated we should toss the stone into the sacred spring for Venus to hear our plea. I laughed and Maximus frowned at me. Did he really believe that this could bind us together? How different we were.

I am a woman of my time. Lapsed Catholic and libertarian. Sensualist and humanitarian. Both a cynic and an optimist. No spirit controls my life. I have no belief in the mystical or the unknown world. Fascinated by legend and ancient rituals I may be, I do not feel the need to worship at any shrine. Bou and Iz know that I love their lore but do not subscribe to it. My world is governed by my rational mind. How had I come to be here with this man who was literally a world and two millennia away from where I was? What magic did he wield to subdue my fiery spirit to his way? In the deep, dark night I tried to hold on to the person I thought I was but she was slipping away from me; I was not sure I quite remembered how she even looked.

 

*

 

I slept relatively late; I have no idea what time it was when I awoke but the morning was fully established. Rising from my bed, now used to being alone when I awoke, I heard the footsteps of Bonia entering the room through the heavy curtain.

"Mistress? Are you awake? We have prepared your toilette."

"Where is my husband?" I inquired. They would not have entered our room had he been in the house.

"He went to the gymnasium and told us to attend you. You need to make a prompt start today. He is taking you to the Races."

I obediently, stood up and allowed them to remove the night shift I was wearing, no longer embarrassed by their attentions. I let them wash me and they chattered about this and that, the things I had seen in the City and the forthcoming Races. One charioteer, Citax, was attracting much attention, especially from women.

"They say he is the most fearsome rider in the Empire- with already over 500 wins and he is not yet twenty one. But more importantly," she giggled, "he is blond and handsome and built like a God. Society women bid against each other to buy a night with him. The goddess has well favoured him in all ways!" Clodia clucked at her daughter's tongue but laughed along with both of us.

"What team does he ride for?"

"The Greens."

"Then I may place a bet on beautiful Citax!" I teased.

"What will the master say?" Clodia responded cheekily.

I placed a finger on my chin as if in thought. "I shall tell him that I like the look of the horses; fine legged and proud of spirit. The driver has a strong grip and a brave carriage. But I hardly think he will believe me! I know nothing of horses!"

"But much about men?" Clodia whispered as she applied the kohl to my eyes.

"I am learning, Clodia. Doing my best!"

At that moment, Maximus burst into the domestic scene. He clapped his hands to get rid of the women. "Abi, abi! Satis pulchra est!" he grinned. (Go away! She's pretty enough) With his hands on my shoulder, he kissed the back of my neck and whispered a suggestion in my ear.

"NO! I have spent ages getting ready. You are not going to mess all this up now. Men!"

Another broad grin; he was clearly in a very good humour. "I have spent the last two hours in the gymnasium and the bath house. Work out, bathe, oiled, beard trimmed, nails pared...all for you. I'm not bothered if you mess me up. Women!"

I sprang up and punched him playfully. "It's not the same and you know it. What has put you in such good spirits?"

He picked me up and whirled me round the room, as easily as if I were a child. "Well, last night was a promising start," he raised his eyebrows suggestively, "and waking up next to you was extremely pleasant even if I couldn't rouse you no matter how hard I tried. I had a great workout, swam, sweated and washed and then a massage. To top it all -a day at the Races with my girl. What more can a man ask for?"

"You are a man of simple tastes, Maximus. I applaud that. Well, this girl's ready. Let's make a start. It's a long walk."

We set off and joined the enormous crowds that were making their way north to the Circus. The Circus Maximus seated a quarter of a million people - hard to envisage a crowd of that size, even today. A fourth of the entire population of the City and it appeared that they were all out in force today. Maximus for once held on tight to me, his hand firmly gripping mine, and I was grateful for his size and bulk; without it I would have been swept away by the crowd.

"Stay close. Keep moving. People are often trampled to death in these surges," he warned. 

As we got nearer to the great racecourse, the crowds became more dense and I was very intimidated. Despite the presence of Praetorians, some even on horseback, the mob was a living mass of unpredictable humanity and no amount of military crowd control could have stopped it if it had really run amok. I wondered what would happen when we reached the narrow entrances, a definite trouble spot in any great arena. But Rome was nothing if not well organised; military precision was the key to such events. There were hundreds of entrances and the crowd easily dispersed through them. Without the need for turnstiles or ticket booths, there was nothing to slow down the movement and we were swept through the nearest arched entrance, up the wide stone staircase and on to the terraces.

I've been to Wembley, Old Trafford, The Olympic Stadium in Barcelona, the San Siro - even Centre Court at Wimbledon- but nothing has ever quite prepared me for the spectacle of the Circus displayed in all its glory. It was enormous beyond imagination; the great two mile circuit which ran round the magnificent central island replete in statues, archways, obelisks and columns. Crowning the whole were the ova, or in this case the Dolphins, seven golden diving dolphins, one for each round of the 7-circuit race, to be lowered as the drivers thundered past.

But it was not the grandeur of the mighty arena that most fascinated me as I took my place on the stone banking. It was the crowd that held my attention. 250,000 people of every social class, race and culture, straining with anticipation, eager for the off, near hysteria beyond belief. I glanced across at Maximus who was watching it all with an impenetrable look on his face. It must have brought back memories of the fickle, baying hordes at the amphitheatre who would call for death one minute and life the next with one casual tilt of a thumb.

I rested my hand on his and he looked across and a glimmer of a smile passed across his handsome face. "Does it remind you?"

"Of all that is best and worst in Rome. The grandeur and the evil. It is easy to dismiss. How can sane, normally kind people, turn into these howling animals at the scent of blood or a successful bet?" He shook his head sadly and I realised that I was seeing a Maximus I hadn't seen in a long time. I was both saddened and delighted to have him back.

"A large football crowd is just as intimidating. It is mass hysteria. People are led by forces beyond their control. Human nature is flawed, Maximus. It has a vicarious urge to view the sufferings of others to compensate for the emptiness and futility of most lives. To know that there is always someone worse off than yourself."

"Does that make it easier to accept?" He asked me.

"I don't know. But when you understand what drives behaviour then at least you can allow for it. I suppose it is easy for me to say. I have never even seen real suffering. I have rarely even seen a dead body."

"What?" He stared at me. "Death is part of life."

"Not in my world. Why would it be? We are shielded from such things and when a trauma happens we have to be counselled because it is such a rare occurrence."

"That is your weakness. It is unnatural. It makes you unprepared for the vicissitudes of life." He replied.

"I know, Maximus. Not everything is better in our world." He nodded and smiled.

"Do you want to place a bet?" 

"Is the pope a Catholic?" Maximus looked at me and scratched his head. 

"You want to be thrown to the lions? I think we keep the Christian references out of your conversation, please."

I giggled. "I want to place a bet on Citax."

"Who?"

"He's on soon. Look they are parading now. He's a Green. See- in the Green tunic?" I pointed him out; he was a honey. Long dark blond hair and as arrogant as they come. Maximus sneered. That made me even more determined to stake some money on him.

"Pretty boy. He'll be spilling his guts on the arena floor before the race is over. He's too busy courting Roman matrons to earn his fortune than watch the game. Mark my words."

"Bet he wins. And gets the girls," I smirked.

"You know nothing about horses or riders. You choose because you like the look of him," he observed disapprovingly.

"Chose you, didn't I? I know nothing about sword fighting. But I know men, Maximus. He'll take them all. You're the only one here I'd bet against him and even then I'd have a think before I risked my money." My eyes sparkled and he laughed out loud.

"He'd be eating my dust." 

"Place the bet. Green." I insisted.

"I think Blue."

"Why? That brute with the big black beard?" I snorted.

"No, the colour of your eyes. About as reliable as the method you're choosing," he teased and slipped out of the seat to secure the bet with one of the hundreds of bookies who were all over the walkways.

I returned to my contemplations of the scene, wishing I had a pair of binoculars to see the wonders up at close hand. The riders were parading around to a fanfare while their horses were led, prancing and snorting behind, hardly restrained by the teams of grooms.

"Quodne nomen, dulce?" (What's your name, sweetie?)I heard the voice and then realised it referred to me.

"Ego?" I replied. (Me?)

The young man smiled, white teeth showing. "Tu, certe" (You, for sure.)

"I am with my husband." I answered demurely, casting my eyes down.

"All the more reason to have a bit of fun then. What else do you come to the races for? Where is he anyway? Left you stranded? Bet he's chatting up some girl under the arches." The euphemism for prostitute, I knew. This guy was moving in fast.

"He will be back in a minute and I warn you he will not find this amusing."

The young man laughed as young men do. Boy, was he in for a lesson if he didn't back off.

"So where you from?" He moved next to me and leaned too close; I could smell onions on his breath. I backed away.

"Britannia."

He placed his hand on my arm. "They say the women there are very beautiful. Wild and easy. Is that so?"

"Get your hand off my wife." I heard Maximus' voice and the note of caution in it. My young friend did not.

"Calm down, mate." That Greek word 'technon' again. "Just being friendly."

"Too friendly. Now fuck off." Maximus rarely swears; I realised how angry he was.

The young man laughed. "Like you can make me?"

Maximus took one step, slid on into the seat and grasped the man's testicles in his hand and twisted. The youth's face went white and he struggled to breathe. "Fuck off. Or I tear these off and shove them down your throat. Eligis! (Your call)"

Maximus relaxed his hold and the man scrambled to his feet and hurried out of the row.

"I think that was a bit excessive, Maximus. He was only trying it on..."

But the look on Maximus' face said it all. "That was between him and me. You don't understand. Do not interfere." I bit back a response. That was their way. His manhood was somehow on the line here. Men do it the world over. Why is that? A memory hit me.

 

 

 

Why did I let Maximus get away with similar behaviour? Instead I chose a different tack. I changed the subject.

"It's just like Ovid. You know the poem "At the Races?" I chortled.

"Remind me," Maximus said; he sounded as if he was tolerating me. His mind was still elsewhere and he was watching the young man and some friends in a higher gallery.

 

 

"That's what they are all here for. It's not just about the race- it's a chance to see and be seen. Girls and boys flirting, men and women conducting clandestine affairs, husbands gambling while their wives get chatted up. And then look at the imperial box! Everyone wants to see what the beautiful people are up to, latest fashions, whose bonking who at court. If the Creator were here, he'd be centre stage, up there, lapping up the attention."

Maximus gave that look; part disapproving, part amused but didn't comment. He merely pointed at the starting gates and alerted me to watch; the race was about to begin.

It is hard to describe the spectacle that unrolled before my eyes. It was a highly exhilarating competition, with athletes at the top of their profession performing with incredible skill and accuracy, balanced on fragile chariots, moving at high speeds, dusk whipped up round them as they hurtled for the inner rail and the tight turn. But it was not just that. There was terrible carelessness for human life, a reckless handing over of fate to the vagaries of this most dangerous of sports. The crowd was howling- partly for success- but also with a bloodlust to see the inevitable accident; the instance when one of them tried too hard, lost concentration for a second, misjudged the angle or the space and the spectacle became a bloodbath.

In this prize contest, it appeared that no one would falter. Lap five already and the teams held their line, not much in it. The Greens were in third, The Blues in fourth, but only a hairsbreadth separating them from each other. Entering the sixth lap, Reds and Whites were neck and neck, their riders calling over and taunting each other and then it happened - almost too quick to comprehend, with no action replay to show what caused the fall. Maybe it was the horses shying as they thundered ever closer to each other, maybe it was the sharpness of the turn, but the leaders clashed in a shattering blow of metal on metal. The chariots flipped over, dragged on by their startled mounts and their riders flew into the air. They did not fall clear.

Each charioteer anchors himself to his chariot by winding the horses' reins tight around his body. In the event of a collision he is trapped, helplessly dragged behind the speeding horses, his only chance of escape being to pull the dagger from his wrist gauntlet and sever the leather rein- but how to do that when being spun at high velocity around the track? It is nigh impossible and within minutes the riders were bloodied and broken, bouncing around like dummies. I gasped and covered my eyes in horror; shocked by the blood pouring on the track- but worse was to come. The chariot of the Greens, rode over the body of the White rider and with gut wrenching dread I saw the man's head spin away and roll across the track to be further mutilated under the wheels of the Blue chariot. Slaves swarmed the track to try to clear the debris and as the remaining chariots thundered past for the final lap, I took no pride to see Citax secure his victory before the Blue team came in second. The arrogant victor jumped down from his team and took the applause, striding over to the remains of his opponent and kicking the mangled head along the track.

I hid my face against Maximus's arm; he prised me away and tilted up my face. "You won." He observed wryly, "He's a formidable rider," he added, raising his eyebrows.

"Maximus- two men died! That mutilated body! The decapitated head! It is horrific!" I gasped.

He shrugged. "I warned you it would not be pretty. Men die in the arena. That is how they die. These men are not slaves. They know the risks."

I stared at him. "Does it not disturb you? How can it not affect you after what so nearly happened to you?"

"What is supposed to disturb me? That death is bloody and brutal? That men bleed? It is their choice. It is a sport. They take risks and win fortunes. So be it."

I sat back and contemplated his word. Terry had seen all the worst of life; war zones, torture, assassinations. I knew he had done his fair share of killing and had risked his life many times. But he would not have relished this outcome or even accepted it. And he would have dealt with my fear so differently. He never accepted death- to him it was always an unnecessary evil, only done in the greater cause but still carrying with it a burden of guilt. Maximus saw it differently and the gulf between us began to widen.

"You have stomach for more? Or do you want to leave?" He asked, kindly enough but I knew he wanted to stay. So stay I did but its fascination now paled for me; I spent more time watching the crowd than the races.

When the main attractions had run their course and we had redeemed our winnings, we made our way slowly out, hampered by the speed of the late afternoon crowd. At the exit we joined the general exodus and allowed ourselves to be moved along by the mob. Suddenly Maximus pulled me from the throng into an alleyway. "Wait, I need to piss." I lingered a little too long at the corner while he turned away to answer nature's call. In that second I felt fingers drag me back into the crowd and was whisked away. I tried to call his name but a hand was slapped over my mouth.

My body froze and my confused brain struggled to try to understand what had happened. I tried to wriggle from the grasp but my captor held me faster and bent towards me, the smell of onions on his breath. "Got you now, dulce." I stiffened with fear. The young man from the Races; he must have watched and waited for his chance. Oh Maximus! Why did you have to make him so angry!

We pushed our way through the crowd until we reached a small square and he yanked me away and into a courtyard that opened out beyond a high wall. There he released me and I stumbled away, rubbing my arms where he had hurt me. The place looked like the backyard of a workshop, but there was no one around. It seemed that everyone had closed down for the race day.

Then with a thud of dread I realised that we were not alone. He was accompanied by three friends; there were curling sneers on their faces and a hooded look of lust in their eyes, fuelled by the hysteria and violence of the races and their anger at Maximus' casual dismissal of their friend. I was to be the victim chosen for their revenge.

I backed hopelessly against the wall, eyes searching for a means of escape but it was impossible. I did not know where I was and could not fight them. They would rape and kill me and leave my body to be found the next morning.

"Please...no...spare me..." I shouted weakly as two of them seized my arms and thrust me against a wall, my stola  dragged over my head while another ripped my undergarments away. I screamed.

I felt the first intrusive hands and the rubbing of a hard cock against me and then I was abruptly dropped onto the floor. There was the sound of a thud and a groan; I pulled myself onto all fours to see what had occurred. Maximus was there. He held one man in his grasp and I heard a snap and saw the awkward angle of a broken arm hanging forward as he tossed his victim to the ground.

"Uma, come away! Stand behind me. NOW!" His voice was commanding but without emotion. I scrambled to my feet and obeyed him. The three men stood momentarily shocked by the fate of their companion, but then they reacted. All three had knives and they drew them, advancing on Maximus. He stood still, face set but his eyes alert and I knew his brain was racing. A muscle twitched on his right cheek, the only sign of tension. The seconds seemed like minutes as they all stared at each other and then, as if by lightening speed, Maximus lunged, turned the man to his right, bent his arm and used the man's own knife to sever a tendon in his arm. He tossed the body towards the man on his left and flicked the dagger- it hit the central man and pierced his hand. This one fell, clutching his wound and writhing on the ground.

There was one left standing, my friend from the Races.

"Eligis. You want more?" Maximus spat out.

The young man stared at the bodies of his companions. "Who are you?"

"I am your Nemesis. It was an unlucky day when you crossed my path. I have left all three of your friends alive. If you bother me or my wife again, I will not be so kind. Next time I flay you all alive." He turned to go and took me roughly by the hand. I could see the sweat on his face and feel the rigid tension of his body.

"I know you! You are the Spaniard!" gasped one of the men still rolling on the floor, grasping his broken arm.

The moment it was spoken, they all realised that it was true. "But you died in the arena..." Maximus simply dragged me and ran, blending in with the crowd and burrowing our way through.

"Maximus... stop...I cannot keep up with you..." I protested but he took little notice until we were far away. He stopped and pushed through the door of a tavern, ordering a jug of wine and drinking several cups before he would speak to me.

"I thought you would kill them!" I exclaimed.

"How can I kill them? We cannot interfere with time. You think I would not have drained each one of blood if I could have!" He swilled back another cup and I placed my hand on his arm. He shrugged me away.

"Why did you leave my side!" he shouted. Other people looked across at him. 

"Be quiet, Maximus! I did not. They dragged me away."

"You should have been with me."

"What? Hold your hand while you pissed? I am not joined to you at the hip! They were watching and saw their chance. That is all."

He sat back and raked his hands down his face; he was still trembling.

"Maximus- are you alright?" I whispered, longing to touch him and ease his desperate fear.

"I thought I would never find you. They would have...I cannot think what they would have done to you. It is my fault. All my fault. I thought..." And then it dawned on me. He was remembering another time when he had been helpless to save the woman he had loved and another child.

"Maximus..." I tried to begin.

He shook his head and stood up, "Let us go home. I need you now."

That was that. He rose and pushed me back into the crowd and we hurried back to our apartment block, saying nothing. He appeared distracted and I was pensive. It had been a tumultuous day and there was much I needed to think about.

The chambers were silent when we entered. "I told them to go and see the Races." Max muttered by way of explanation. He pushed me against the wall and raked his hands down my body, kneading my flesh as he bent and kissed me, a little ungently, running his left hand under my clothes. I pulled away.

"Are you going to fuck me against a wall like they would have done? What's the matter with you?" I shouted at him. He dropped his hands and grimaced, ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry. I just...He ruffled his hair. "I just need to feel you. I thought you were gone..."

"I understand that. But, Maximus - four men tried to rape me! Think of it from my point of view. I am not in the mood for... rough sex with you. Please, slow down. I need your love not your lust."

He sighed and nodded. "I know... I know. Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head. "Just scared me. Really scared me, Maximus. I thought I would die."

Maximus picked me up in his arms and carried me through to our room. He lay me down and went to fetch a glass of wine. "Drink this. Rest awhile. I will sit with you."

For a while I lay there and dozed in the early evening heat. I must have fallen asleep. 

 

 

 

"What?"

I opened my eyes and realised that I was in Maximus' arms and it was he who was whispering to me.

"I thought you were Terry." 

"You dream of him?" He let me fall back onto the bed and turned away.

"We cannot control our dreams, Maximus!"

"They hide our real desires," he stated obliquely, staring ahead.

I swallowed and thought hard before I spoke. "Perhaps they do, Maximus. Perhaps I should be listening to them more."

He swung back to me. "So he wins. Is that what you are saying? You go back to him with my child and desert me?"

I sprang to my knees. "This is not about winners and losers! He has been the one deserted, not you.  Stop being so petulant. Why do you want me? Have you ever really thought about that? Why this obsession for me and to stay here?"

"You know nothing about it. You do not understand me." He shouted back.

"No - because you won't talk to me. I can't live in a relationship where I am a little toy sheltered from the truth. It isn't me. It is time I told you how I really feel instead of letting you drive me along in this way. Rome is magnificent, beyond my wildest dreams, but it is an alien world and I do not share its philosophy. I cannot even bear the fucking toilets! How can I risk my life in childbirth, chance the thousands of diseases that could sweep us away, expect me to make friends of women who are a world away from me? How can you risk the consequences of your death in battle, leaving me alone here?"

He stood wild-eyed listening to me, pacing about but I could see from his face that he knew I was right.

"But that's not all. I have such strong feelings for you. I love you. I will not deny that - but love is not enough. There are other things that bind a man and woman and we do not have them. This is an affair not a partnership. I am your mistress not the companion of your life. I have that bond already and so do you. A real relationship is based on honesty and will always have its difficulties. It isn't roses everyday. Sometimes you long for other things. Terry has lots of other women, I accept that, sometimes unwillingly, but I know they see him differently than I do.  But I think I see the real man inside of him as he sees the real woman inside of me. Max, he's like you in many ways but he is...he is not as rigid and unbending as you are. I know he acts like a real macho man but he thinks differently, he is gentler inside, more forgiving. He didn't even approve of the army - he got out. Tried to make amends for the things he had done. When would you ever have had sleepless nights about the consequences of a battle or someone you had killed? Max - Terry and I talk. Really talk. He knows almost everything about me and I about him. He is what I need. I am playing a dangerous game with you and I have been dragged in deeper than I expected to. However I know that, even should I lose him, I want to go back and face him again and give him the chance to make his choice. Yes, I have decided my answer. I cannot stay here- we were mad to even think it. I want to go back and try to sort out my life. If it is not too late."

Maximus walked across the room and continued pacing up and down. He was thinking but his expression was dark. I shivered a little even in the heat of the room.

"What about my child?"

"There may be no child."

"If there is a child. How will you take care of it alone?"

"A single mother is not an unusual person in my time, you know that. I will deal with it as I see fit. If I am pregnant. If I decide to keep the child."

His head snapped up at my words, his eyes burning with cold menace. "If? You would kill my child?"

Although I trembled before his anger, I did not intend to back down. "It is my choice. In my world a woman has control over herself. It is an option."

He stepped towards me and grabbed me by the arms as if to shake me like a doll. "You whore!" He spat in my face.

I faced him back. "What are you going to do? Hit me? Beat me into submission? That will do your precious baby a world of good."

We glared at each other; it was a terrifying moment. But I saw the anger die in his eyes and his hands relax about my arms. "Forgive me. I should not lay hands on you." He backed off and shook himself, shame on his face.

"Why? Is it me or the baby you are bothered about?"

He sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands. "You, of course, you. I would not harm you for the world. Or any woman." He paused; I thought he would say no more and then: "What has happened to me, Ummidia?" He was distraught. He did not know what to do. I had never known him uncertain or frightened before.

Kneeling behind him, I circled his neck with my arms and rested my face in his thick hair. He still made me ache for his touch. "Maximus, it is this place. Something has happened to us. We have fallen under an enchantment. This is not your world but a fraudulent image, a mirage of the one you knew. The real Maximus is out there somewhere and living his own life. Think! How can we stay? How can you fight and kill, change the path of time? How can I bear a child who does not belong in this millennium? Think! We must go back and face the others. This has been a wonderful ride- but it must end now. Before it really gets out of hand."

Maximus lay back against me and I lowered him to the bed. He stared at the ceiling, eyes far away, lost in another vision. "I want to bury myself in the dream that is you. All my other certainties have gone. Can you not understand that?"

"No matter how much I feel for you - I know this is true. I cannot be a woman of your world.  I cannot be the embodiment of a dream. I am myself, a woman of the twenty first century and I need a man of my time."

He shot me a look, so piercing that it made me gasp. "You need Thorne. That's what you mean?"

"What is wrong with that? Why do you always act like that when I mention his name? Do you hate him so much?"

"It's mutual."

"No, it isn't. He doesn't much like me seeing you but he respects you."

"Respects me?" He grunted the words out in a low growl.

"Maximus, is all this really about him? Do you want to take me from him just to make you feel better?" The idea appalled me and I gaped at him, demanding an answer.

Maximus rolled on to his side. "Of course not. You didn't even know him when I met you. What has happened between you and me is nothing to do with him. I just don't think he is right for you. He will hurt you, move on, he does not understand you..."

"No!" I shouted at him. "You are wrong! He understands me very well. No one knows me as he does -certainly not you! Maximus- I am not the woman you think me to be! I am just a woman of my time who has a love and a passion for history. But I do not wish to live in the past. I do not want to be your kept woman, your plaything. I want to stand shoulder to shoulder with a man and be his equal. But we could never be that way. I don't play games with Terry. With him, I am me - there is no need to be someone else."

I wondered how he would accept my words. "And if there is a child- how will he react?"

Biting on the sob that threatened to disturb my control, I answered: "Probably listen, make that little sigh he has that he doesn't even know about, blink a few times, then set his chin and look at me before walking away."

"Then what will you do?"

I shrugged. "Cope. Somehow. I will not have an abortion. That was an idle threat. If I am with child then I will face the situation. You would be welcome anytime you wish to visit. I would not keep you from your child."

"You would not have me even then?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "Visit anytime but I am not the woman for you. There are others who would be more comfort to you. I think we would destroy each other in time."

And then he smiled. Unexpectedly, out of the blue, a smile that lit up my heart. "How wise you are. But I still love you."

"And I love you. Whatever happens..."

We fell into each other's arms on those words and for the first time I felt that all the masks were down. He saw me as I was and I reached for him as a man, not a master. Our kisses were not burning with dangerous desire but tender and full of self- knowledge. His body rolled over mine and I loved him with passion but no submission. This was how I really felt about him.

I sat in his lap and took a more assertive role, resting my hands on his shoulders as he steadied me with his fingers firmly on my buttocks as I rose up and down and he thrust against me. We made no sound- just the sighing and gasping of our shared emotion as we kissed and loved and touched, aware that it might be a long time before we allowed ourselves to be this close again. I felt him tremble, knew that he was near, but could not bear to let him go. It was Maximus himself who lifted me, with a moan, and slipped away, to come in shudders along my naked thigh. I held him as he struggled, kissed his face and rested his head against my breast where he nuzzled like a baby.

"I...must protect you, just in case..."he muttered as he subsided.

"You always have, my love," I whispered. 

 

*

 

We left before the women returned. Maximus wrote a note, dismissing them, awarding them their freedom and set a sum of money down beside it. The apartment was paid up for some months yet and they would have time to decide what they would do with their futures. As night was falling we walked for that last time through the streets that I had come to know so well and I knew that the memories of this fateful journey would stay with me for a lifetime.

Outside the city, in the shadow of the Necropolis, I followed Maximus to a large mausoleum that looked as if it had long been neglected. He pushed on the door and I went to step through. Before I could, he caught me in his arms, kissed me one more time, deep and long, a farewell kiss, and muttered in my ear, "Know thyself." Then he led me inside.

The rustling sound, the spinning and then nothingness -I awoke lying on the back seat of a car, my head thumping and my stomach heaving. I groaned and raised myself, fighting the urge to vomit. The Roman stola was gone; I was dressed in jeans and a white shirt, my leather jacket thrown over me for warmth. The car was moving through city streets.

"You're awake? Thought you would sleep all the way to the airport." Maximus turned back to look at me with a smile.

I just groaned and clutched my stomach. "I feel like shit." 

He chuckled. "You went out like a light. Didn't even stir when I dressed you but your pulse was strong enough. Take it easy. You've a long flight ahead. You can sleep for the next twenty fours hours- it will do you good."

I couldn't argue; I didn't have the strength. Curling up under the jacket, the heater of the car blowing out warm air, I lay and watched him as he drove, gazing on the back of his neck and remembering how it had felt beneath my hands. But I was going to my home and he was returning to his. Both of us had other things to think of now. The dream was already fading.

 

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