"Aurelia! You must hurry with your breakfast. Your father has given instructions for you to be dressed in your finery. The Lady Lucilla will be here shortly to talk with you..." Verilia woke Aurelia and opened up the shutters to allow the brilliant sunshine to sweep into the room. The girl lay yawning and rubbing her eyes, stretching after the heavy sleep. She kicked away the sheets and lay languidly as the old woman scurried about the room.

"Up, up up!"

"What's all this about?" Aurelia whined as she dragged herself out of her bed, drawing back the heavy tangled fall of her thick hair. 

"I don't know but it's important. Come, sit! Take some bread and milk. A little fruit. They're preparing a bath in the other room..."

Some time later, Aurelia sat as the maids put the finishing touches to her hair and clothing. The door to her apartment opened and in swept Lucilla. The women all stopped and bowed; she waved them away languidly.

"Let me look at her....Loosen her hair. She looks like a matron in that old fashioned fussy style! Let it fall free and then weave some ribbon through to tame it....like this..." Lucilla began to take over, demonstrating the more fashionable look. In no time, Aurelia's formal style had been replaced by a younger, more coquettish one. "This gown is also very unflattering. Has she nothing in pale blue? We want something virginal...Peronilla, go run to my apartments and look out the blue with the fine gold border....and the beaded slippers..."

Aurelia looked bewildered. "Why must I be dressed up, aunt? Is something happening today?"

Lucilla indicated that the women should leave them and pulled up a stool to sit by her niece. "Today may well be a special day for you. We need to talk. How old are you, Aurelia?"

"Sixteen. These five months passed..."

"Exactly. You are growing up and it is time that your father considered your future..."

"Are you about to tell me he has selected a husband for me?" Aurelia looked at her aunt curiously.

Lucilla smiled. The girl was sharp for all her dreamy innocent look. "Not exactly. He would not force this upon you but there is someone who has expressed an interest in meeting you. He is a great man with a great name. But we are not talking marriage yet. However, in these uncertain times, we are all in need of champions and should good fortune fall your way, it benefits us all. Do you understand my meaning, Aurelia?"

"I'm not sure. Is this connected to the man you brought here?" An idea had occurred to Aurelia that seemed scarcely possible. Had general Maximus spoken after meeting her last night? Had he asked her father to consider him as a suitor? Her heart beat fast at the thought of this outcome.

"In part. My brother died, as you know..." she spoke in a cool, matter-of-fact manner, which seemed odd in the circumstances. "...The throne is vacant and we must strive to find a suitable replacement. You are of the royal blood. An interested general with the position to hold power would feel even more secure with an heir of your body...and thus we are all protected..."

It was as she thought. They were actively considering an alliance between her and the general. The implication was that she would one day be the empress, sitting by the side of such a man. The blood drained from her face and she felt faint. How could this be happening to a simple girl such as she?

"Are you all right, child?" Lucilla asked and gave her a sip or wine to bring back the colour to her cheeks. Aurelia breathed deeply and tried to calm herself. To be the wife of Maximus?

"Aurelia, do not be afraid. I will be by your side and instruct you on how you should behave. But first, I must ask you this. Are you a virgin?"

Aurelia nodded and blushed at the question.

"Truthfully? Has there been no truck with young men? A woman can lose her hymen even in horseplay of an intimate nature..."

The girl shook her head. "I do not even know quite what happens between men and women..." she insisted.

"Really? Tell me what you do know of such things..." Lucilla inquired gently.

Aurelia's cheeks flushed even redder. "I know men have a penis, as on statues, and they use it to pleasure a woman and make babies. I think you have to take your clothes off...and they put it somewhere...like with dogs..."

Lucilla repressed a smile. "Essentially you have the general idea but it is a little more complex than that! So you have never seen a naked man in the flesh?"

She shook her head.

"Or touched his erect member?"

At that Aurelia's expression became confused. It was obvious the girl's knowledge was very cursory. The Mother protect her when she found herself in Quintus' bed! Lucilla could not imagine that he was a man to save a girl's feelings.

"Like a statue of Priapus. Or a satyr. A man's member engorges and rises to fulfil its duty..."

"Oh...!" Aurelia answered, her eyes widening with shock.

"I had to ask these questions. A prospective bridegroom needs to ensure that his bride is innocent of such things. You do understand that?"

Aurelia nodded, still trying to work out exactly what did happen to men. She felt a little worried for them. It could not be very pleasant to be so swollen and enlarged.

Lucilla brought the slaves back in and the girl was re-dressed in the new gown. She had fallen very quiet and even the vision of herself in the exquisite clothes failed to bring a smile to her face. Verilia pinched her cheeks and applied some rouge and then they deemed her ready.

Aurelia was led downstairs to the atrium where a gathering of men was awaiting. Her head was covered with a veil and she kept her eyes downcast as instructed.

"This is my daughter Annia Aurelia Lentula Prisca...we are honoured, my dear, to welcome to our humble estate guests from the City. Visitors of the greatest magnificence...Consul Gracchus, Senator Balbus, Prefect Quintus Metella..." One by one, she was introduced and made her obeisance to these great men, never seeing more than their sandaled feet and the trailing edges of their senatorial togas. Then she was led to a high-backed chair where she sat at a distance as the others move off to take refreshments in the triclinium within. She was left alone, save for her maids who kept away, seated demurely around the impluvium.

Then to her surprise she realized that there was someone standing behind her and that the eyes of her ladies were fixed on this person. "My lady...if I may speak with you a moment?"

She raised her head as the voice stepped from the shadows of the column and into view. It was a man. Not the man she had wished it to be but then how could he be here? She knew full well he was lying weak and helpless in a room upstairs.

"My name is Quintus Cornelius Metella. We were introduced before. I am the praetorian prefect of Rome, recently appointed commander of the senatorial forces. At your service, mistress..."

He was tall, very tall, and lean. His face was gaunt, etched with life, a hard forbidding face, expressionless and hard to read. His eyes, however, were very light blue, almost like a German's. It was a patrician face, handsome in a haughty, aquiline way that hinted of cruelty and a lack of compassion. His hair cut very short, military style, was greying and receding although she could see that he had once been fair. She imagined he was in his mid forties, but he was an impressive man all the same, rather more than most girls ever dreamed of. He was not, however, a ruggedly handsome general with green eyes and the warm winsome smile of a playful boy...

"Sir, I am honoured to make your acquaintance..."

He bowed and then took a step forward. "Remove the veil!" he commanded and Aurelia glanced up in surprise, unused to being spoken to in such terms. He caught her gaze and held her eyes. "If you please..." And then he leaned forward and pulled the palla from her head. Aurelia could hear the gasp of disapproval from Verilia but there was nothing she could do to stop this liberty. Aurelia's father had left her alone with this man and was obviously intending to do all he could bring the marriage about. A mere slave was powerless to intervene.

Quintus stepped back, momentarily stunned by the vision of this young woman. It had been said she was a beauty but the word was often bandied about freely, especially when a father was trying to marry his daughter off well. But this woman was exactly what her description had claimed; a woman of unparalleled loveliness, a veritable goddess.

Aurelia was tall for her age, but still well below a man's height; the perfect willowy stature, long limbed, strong and slender. Her breasts were full and high, bound with ribbons of fine gold thread to accentuate them. Her pale golden skin was perfectly complemented by the blue silk dress and the delicate sapphires at her neck and ears. Her hair was thick and dark yellow, tumbling in thick tresses, glistening with the thread and tiny pearls used as decoration.

But the most intoxicating aspect of this bewitching girl was her face. From the smooth brow down past the startling blue of her eyes, to the ripe full bloom of her lips, there was not a visible flaw. Her expression was innocent, unknowing but intelligent and inquisitive. Even for an experienced battle-hardened man such as he, he felt overwhelmed in the face of such perfection. Just for a moment. And then desire grabbed at his vitals. He wanted her. He wanted her to stand naked before him and submit to his every whim. This was a woman who men killed for, at whose behest empires rose and fell. Poets would immortalize her in verse. Annia Aurelia would be the greatest beauty of the age.

And she would be his.

"My lady...I am overcome by your beauty. Venus herself in all her glory could not compare."

Aurelia blushed. "Hush, sir, lest the gods hear us...but I thank you for your courteous compliment. I am not worthy..."

"May I speak of my family?" Quintus began and told her of his background and career. She listened politely until he mentioned his campaigns in the east with the Felix legions. Then her ears pricked up.

"Did you fight under General Maximus?"

She noted the slight flicker of annoyance at her mention of the name. "We were close colleagues. Fellow generals."

"Then you are his friend? Did you save his life?"

Quintus set his face. "It was my intervention that prevented him from suffering a similar fate to the emperor."

Aurelia smiled at that and Quintus felt a dart of annoyance. Even lying unconscious, Maximus had managed to make an impression. But then she was just an ignorant girl listening to the gossip of slaves. She would soon learn in his bed what a real man was.

"I must not importune you further, Aurelia. I thank you for your time. I hope we shall meet again soon." Quintus made a curt bow and then strode away, his military bearing evident. She watched him go dispassionately. So he was the man she would marry? It surprised her how little the matter excited her - nor did it particularly worry her either. She had always known the day would come and this man seemed as acceptable as the next. He was not too old, or hairless, or toothless. He was strong and virile and had spoken prettily enough, even if his demeanour was mostly sober and, dare she say it, dull?

Verilia came forward and replaced the veil that he had left lying on the floor. "He was very forward with you..."

"He wanted to see my face. I wanted to see his. Can you blame him?" Aurelia retorted with a grin. "If we are to marry, he will have to be more forward than that with me..." Verilia tutted as Aurelia contemplated what Lucilla had told her earlier about the congress between men and women. She tried to imagine Quintus Metella engorged and fulfilling his duty by her.

But the only image that would come to her was that of a man lying asleep beneath a white sheet and the large soft bulge snug between his thighs. 

Two weeks passed uneventfully. Aurelia had heard no more about her impending betrothal other than Quintus Metella had been most taken with her and, although he had had to leave for Rome, he would return as soon as he could and the formal betrothal would take place. A marriage of this stature could not take place over night. Their auspices would have to be read and a date chosen depending on complex readings of both their fortunes. Aurelia was in no hurry. Next year would do well enough for her.

Of more interest to her was the news about Maximus. It appeared the patient was making excellent progress and had even left his bed for short times. Aurelia watched daily for a sight of him on the balcony of his room but saw nothing. Life returned to its usual pattern and the summer days passed one by one.

With her lessons completed for the day, Aurelia took a book out into the garden to find a shelter from the high humidity of the afternoon and to spend a few hours dozing and reading in the cool shade. It occurred to her it must be hot up in the small sickroom on such an afternoon and her eyes instinctively rose to the window above her. It was as a result of her staring at the empty balcony far above her that she failed to see the other person in the garden and almost fell over him.

"My Lady!" His deep voice interrupted and she jumped. He held out his hands as if to catch her but she managed to stay upright. Maximus was reclining on a couch that must have been carried out from the triclinium; there was an open roll lying on his lap. He looked brighter than the last time she had seem him; the grey circles beneath his eyes had dissipated and his colour was better. In the daylight his eyes looked more green than blue and they seemed to be dancing with amusement as he observed her.

"Sir...I did not see you there!"

"One must always look straight ahead, young lady, for who knows what will befall us?"

She smiled at his soft chiding. "It is good to see you up and about, sir. Are you much improved?"

"Much. However I am still weak as a kitten. But nothing that the excellent food provided by your inestimable father will not put right. In time, they say, I will be back to good health. Perhaps never quite as I once was...but then, who is?"

"That is very good news. May I pull up a stool?" Aurelia asked and brought forward a little fold up wooden chair that had been resting by the wall. She sat down primly.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

He sighed and looked at the volume before him. "I am trying to plough through Cicero in the vain hopes that I might actually learn something. The prosecution of Verres for his mismanagement of the province of Sicily? It seemed timely I should read that while I am here. I was never an eager student. As a boy I was very skittish, not at all as I am now. My thoughts were always on running wild or riding my horse or playing with my friends...never in the schoolroom..."

"Cicero!" Aurelia rolled her eyes and pulled a face. "You should choose something more entertaining...Like this! Ovid...!" She held up her roll.

"Ovid? I think I'm a little too sober for Ovid. Or old," he chuckled. "Love stories were never my particular choice...now... a stirring account of a military campaign..."

"Boring!" Aurelia pronounced. "What could be more boring than a general reading about other generals? Literature is supposed to take us out of our dreary normal lives and make us imagine other worlds. Other possibilities...!"

She saw his eyes crinkle with amusement at her declaration. "I doubt if I could quite see myself in the role of romantic hero."

"But this story is so tragic! I'm reading Orpheus and Eurydice and how she died and he did everything in his power to try and find his beloved wife again...even going down into the underworld..." Her enthusiasm ran away with her; she failed to notice the slight knitting of his brows at her mention of the well known tale.

"There is enough sadness in the world already. I do not need to read about it..." he muttered.

She felt a little chastened by his comment. To him she was just a silly frivolous girl. A sudden thought crossed her mind. What of this man's private life? Surely he must have a wife and family somewhere? Perhaps he was missing them. That might account for the air of melancholy that was noticeable, even to her. "It is just a story...make believe..." Her voice trailed off.

"Take no notice of me. I am just too old and stuck in my ways. My wife used to laugh at my tendency to take myself too seriously..."he said.

"Your wife? She must have been worried about you of late..."

At that his face became still and far away. "My wife is dead. That was a long time ago..."

"I'm sorry. I did not know..."

"No matter." He shook the melancholy from him. "So what does a young beautiful girl such as yourself do for entertainment? Where are your friends? Surely there are many young bucks falling over themselves to woo you?"

Aurelia giggled. "Hardly. I am not allowed such indulgences. And as for friends, my father does not like me to spend too much time with girls of my own age. He says that makes a girl silly headed and liable to have ideas implanted that are not seemly."

"Is that what he says? Then I must bow to his knowledge of young ladies. I am not very well versed in the topic. I have spent most of my life in the company of men." But Aurelia had the distinct impression that he did not quite approve of her father's choices for her. There was a touch of pity in his eyes.

"I go to the sea sometimes and paddle in the water with my maids."

"Ah yes, the sea is close by. I forgot how close it always is when you are on an island. I, too, love to swim. It is many years since I enjoyed the warmth of a summer by the coast.

"You should take a trip. It would be good for your recuperation. They always say sea water is a great healer."

"So they do. I shall consider it. When I am stronger and my damned doctors stop fussing around me..." He was so easy to talk to. Nothing like the terse awkward conversation she had shared with Quintus. This was more like idle chatter with a friend. She had not imagined that it was possible for men and women to be companions.

Just then she heard the bustle of Verilia and the clearing of her throat in that pointed fashion of hers that meant she was annoyed with her charge. Maximus looked up and smiled benignly. "Good day, mistress..."

Verilia nodded but managed to look affronted, as if Maximus had done something wrong just by being there. Aurelia saw that it amused him by the twinkle in his eye. "I was wondering where you were. Come, we have things to do..."

"I was just talking to general Maximus..."

"Maximus. I am not a general any more," he corrected softly.

"I'm surprised the general has time for silly girls...and that a man of his bearing does not seem to know what is seemly...' she added under her breath. Grasping Aurelia firmly by the arm, she tugged her away. Aurelia looked back in a helpless apology but she found that Maximus was laughing broadly. He held his own hands out in a helpless expression and winked at her. His conspiratorial glee at having been soundly chastised by an old slave seemed utterly charming to the young girl.

"What were you thinking!" Verilia scolded as she bustled her back into the house. "Alone with a man?"

"He is a house guest. He is also recovering from serious wounds. And he is a nobleman...how can you imagine I was at any risk..."

"He's a man.  That alone gives me cause for concern. And the nicer he is to you, the more you should be wary. House guest or no, keep away from him - now more than ever. Your future husband will not take kindly to you consorting with handsome freedmen..."

"Freedman? What are you talking about, you old goose?" Aurelia asked perplexed at the old woman's rantings.

"He's no nobleman. Never was. He's an ex-gladiator, if you must know. Got himself in trouble in the army or something and was enslaved. That's all we need, you losing your virtue to one of those studs..."

Aurelia fell silent at that unexpected revelation. The general was an ex-slave? A former gladiator? She had heard that Commodus had died in the arena during a bout that had gone wrong...Was there a connection? Had Maximus been the man who had killed her uncle?

The weather was very hot. It was mid July and the sun beat down relentlessly. It was sleepy on the estate at this time of year, activity down to a minimum as a result of the scorching sun. On one particularly still, blisteringly hot day Aurelia and her ladies took a trip to the coast accompanied by a few sturdy male slaves and two of the soldiers from those who had been left behind as guard to the lady Lucilla. She had been asked to attend but declined graciously, suggesting that they take Lucius instead; she a headache from the heat and would stay in her rooms quietly.

It was a lively party who reached the wide sandy beach in the shadow of Aetna. Slaves set up a few shady pavilions to give respite from the sun; Verilia followed Aurelia about with an umbrella and constantly nagged her about the sun. She shrugged her off and ran to play with some of the younger girls, promising to wear her straw hat. They had a ball and played catch in the shallow waves with young Lucius. The older woman could not keep up with them, especially in that heat, and soon sat down on a few rocks that were at the perimeter of the sandy strip, unable to control the high spirits of the young ones.

This was the scene that met Maximus' eyes when he dismounted from his horse not long afterwards. It was his first ride since his injury and he was feeling the effects of both the physical exertion and the weather. Galen had not been pleased at his suggestion to leave the estate, insisting that he should at least go by carriage. Maximus had vehemently refused and walked off, persuading a young groom to give him a mount and simply riding off in a fit of temper at his boredom and tedious existence. In retrospect he thought he had probably acted foolishly but one more day cooped up in that villa would have driven him demented.

There was also the matter of Lucilla. He owed her his life, he knew that, but it was not necessarily something that he had ideally wanted her to save. He had been dying in the arena. There might have been a pulse beat found but if they had just let him fade away, it would have been better for all. Yet here he was a few months later on a hot summer day, with nothing but a bleak future ahead of him. What possible value was that to anyone?

Lucilla was in love with him. He had known it in his heart all along, even back then in Germania when she had accosted him on a cold winter's day and made him look her in the eyes and face up to what they had been to each other. Once they had been lovers. Once he had lived for her smiles and their stolen time together. But that was years ago when he had been a foolish young man driven by his desire rather than his head. Maybe had their love been allowed to grow, then something deeper and stronger might have been forged - but her rank and his duty had always been a wide ocean between them. In the end, he had rejected her, but it had been meant for her own good. He hadn't easily forgotten the beautiful princess.

His life had moved on. Endless campaigns, years on the march, cold forts and many nameless women had filled his life until he had met the one who really mattered. Lucilla had become just a pleasant memory of young love.  He still had occasionally recalled her name when it entered the conversation in the principia or on lonely nights riding hard through frosty countryside reminding him of long ago when he had returned from a reconnaissance raid knowing she was waiting for him at the fort.

What had he felt on meeting her again? It was difficult to be sure. She had unsettled him, there was no denying it. It was hard to look into her eyes and not be drawn back into her bewitching presence. He still felt desire for her and her visits to him in the barracks in Rome had tested his resolve. The first time he had felt so much anger at how much her nearness moved him physically that he had resorted to violence with her. Later he had not been able to hide his attraction. One kiss when he had not expected to live much longer? Had that indulgence been so wrong of him?

He was not in love with her. It was wrong to pretend otherwise. His feelings for her were fond and deep but he did not wish to be her husband and was not the kind of man to trifle with her as a lover. But Lucilla had always loved him and still did. Their feelings had never been commensurate, he now understood to his shame. What had been a youthful infatuation to him had been the love of Lucilla's life.

This was not to be encouraged. At all cost he had to make her see that what he had said to reassure her then in the gladiator barracks, the affection which he had given, his kiss of despair and loneliness for human contact of which he had been so long starved - had not been meant as a declaration that things were now again as they had once been. He had never meant to promise her anything that he could not give her. His heart still lay in the grave with his wife and son. It always would. He had no interest in ever marrying again.

That morning, he had observed the departure of the younger members of the household - and noted Lucilla's absence from the group. He suspected it was not unconnected. She spent many hours of the day with him, helping tend his wounds and reading to him, talking and keeping him company but always in the presence of the doctor and the slaves. He wondered if today she might have thought to approach him privately and they might be alone.

It felt like cowardice to have run in the face of it, but what else could he do? He did not want to do anything that could lead her on. He also wanted to escape the confines of his sickroom, feel the sun on his face and freedom beneath his heels. This convalescence had merely replaced one prison for another.

He wasn't sure if he had actively looked for the party from the villa as he had wandered the littoral but when he did stumble across the beach where they had gathered, he dismounted speedily enough, left his horse with the slaves who were watching the carriages and wagons and made his way to a vantage point, squatting down to observe them. Down below was a typical scene of young people at play on a beach, much as he could have expected to see on any part of the Mediterranean coast. It immediately brought to his mind long forgotten memories of his boyhood in Spain; had he ever been as carefree as they?

The girls were tossing a ball around in that girlish fashion that had made him laugh and tease them as a child. Lucius was running amongst them, intercepting and jumping up, splashing them in the shallows as he demonstrated his better skills and agility in the arrogant fashion of boys. That made Maximus chuckle. It was such a very familiar sight of children at play - and yet, it seemed so remote from him, a memory of a long lost existence.

Aurelia was less timid he noticed, several times jostling Lucius, wrestling the ball from him and once even kicking the rippling waves in his face to put him off. Today she seemed more like a little girl than on their previous meetings; she was not putting on an affectation of young lady, unaware that anyone was observing her. But by the Gods, she was a beauty. Dressed in a thin house dress, bare legged, her hair falling loose from the ribbons and the straw hat she had first worn long cast aside, she was tantalisingly lovely. He could not imagine any young man seeing her and not falling headlong for her innocent charms. Despite her girlish manner and the shrieks of laughter she was emitting, her body belied her childishness in that dangerously provocative way of young women.

The sea water had dampened her dress, accentuating the well formed breasts; it clung to the curve of her hip and the slender elegance of her thighs. It was hard not to be drawn to ogling her- he was like any man in the pleasure he took in the visual sight of an attractive female, but he felt somewhat ashamed of his prurient gaze. Telling himself that it was just an older man appreciating a girl on the brink of womanhood in a paternal way, he forced himself to stand, intending to leave before he was noticed by the young ones.

But it was too late. Lucius' sharp eyes had picked him out and the boy shouted up gaily: "Maximus! Hello there! Come down, sir!" He looked around but there was no way he could pretend he had not heard the boy and reluctantly made his way down the path to the sand.  "It is good to see you out and about, sir. You look almost back to your old self!" The boy smiled courteously.

"Far from it. I am already aching and Galen will be taking me to task for overdoing it! But I am better than I was. For that I am grateful...ladies...Lady Aurelia...." He acknowledged the others who were simpering and giggling, shy to be caught in the midst of their game. Aurelia was quiet, her cheeks red either from embarrassment or the sun and her eyes downcast.

"Good day, sir," she mumbled.

"I am sorry to disturb you. I will withdraw..."

"No...you must join us for lunch....there is so much food!" Lucius demanded and took his hand, dragging him towards the tents further down the beach. Maximus gave a helpless shrug of apology to Aurelia, who smiled shyly, and let the boy lead him away. The small hand in his touched him. Lucius seemed to have accepted him as a close friend even though their few meetings had been very tense ones in the arena. He remembered the boy dancing round his uncle in a similar way. It was obvious the child was starved of male affection and in need of a father figure that he could trust. For Maximus, it was impossible not to recall his own son - and not to be tempted by the possibility Lucius offered to him. With Lucilla came Lucius. What did he need most? A woman or a son? It shamed him that he was even considering anyone else as a replacement for what he had lost. No one could replace them.

But a small boy's trusting hand in his still felt good.

Shortly afterwards lunch was served and Maximus sat under the awning reclining on a couch, fed by the maids who had now demurely tied up their hair and returned to their duties. The nanny hovered by Aurelia's side, her usual hostile face turned to him but she seemed satisfied that there was safety in numbers. Lucius sat on the sand by his feet and chattered to him. Maximus said little, just a comment or a tease here and there, enjoying the heat, the ease, the lazy slap of the wave on the burning sand and the bright voices of his youthful companions.

It was the zenith of the day and the food and wine added to the lethargy of all the party. Some settled down to chat in quiet groups, others dozed in the shade. Lucius wandered off with his tutor in tow, climbing some rocks and looking for crabs. Maximus lay back and watched the horizon, the dazzling light bouncing off the calm waters, making him screw up his eyes. He also felt sleepy. The journey had tired him out.

"Would you accompany me, Maximus? I want to walk down the strand but my nurse and the other ladies are sleeping..." Aurelia's voice woke him with a jerk. He must have been dozing off.

"My lady?" He jumped up instinctively, wincing slightly at the darting pain in his leg. There had been tendon damage; he was trying to force himself these days not to limp to favour the infirmity.

"Perhaps you would rather rest? I wasn't thinking..."

"Not at all. I need exercise. Too much lying abed. Come, let's stroll. Wear your hat. The sun is strong and you will burn..."

Aurelia plonked it on her head a little sullenly; he had to stop himself from smiling at her petulance. She wanted to be a lady but acted like a little girl at times. It was most amusing watching her slipping between the two roles, much as a boy can be like a puppy dog one minute and a posturing young man at another. For a while they strolled in silence, he with his hands behind his back and she walking primly by his side. But she soon seemed to tire of that, or considered herself far enough away from her nursemaids to relax, for she began to whirl around with her arms out, dancing in and out of the wave, trying to dare them to splash her.

"I love it here! I love it here!" she exclaimed and then became more serious. "You know, we only come here once or twice a year on special days when father gives permission. I rarely leave the grounds the rest of the time. To think this world is out here all the time and I am shut up day after day...! Whereas you, because you are a man, can just take a horse and ride without asking anyone's permission...and you are not even well! Yet, I must live like a prisoner....the world is so unfair!"

Her exclamation surprised him. On previous meetings she had seemed more obedient and accepting of her position. Today she seemed to be rather tetchy. He wondered whether she was nearing her monthly flux; women could be very unpredictable at that time, and he had heard that the younger ones were even more volatile. "Nothing happens without a reason, my lady. Your safety is paramount. My honour is of no value to anyone..." he grinned back.

She rolled her eyes. "But all the same...sometimes I wish I were a boy. Imagine how different would be my life?"

He nodded. "But no doubt it would bring its own restrictions. Everyone has their duty, Aurelia. A boy may have more freedom to roam but he is not his own master - whatever he thinks. Soon enough come the responsibility of war, of public life, of marriage, of politics..."

"It is hardly the same. He can come and go as he pleases..."

"The slaves cannot. A farmer cannot. A poor man - or woman - in the town cannot simply please him or herself....and even generals must obey. Their lives are dedicated to Rome. They cannot take off whenever the fancy takes them..." he replied kindly but firmly.

"Would you be a woman then?" she asked and the sudden sharpness of her question caught him by surprise. 

He laughed. "I would not. Nor would you in truth wish to be a man, whatever you say. We are made for what we are. Imagine a life without pretty gowns and sparkling gems, without handsome young men to tell you how pretty you are, without the prospect of one day holding your own baby to your breast...!"

Aurelia tutted loudly and strode ahead, bending down to pick up a flat stone and then skimming it out over the water. It travelled fast and low, bouncing several times off the surface of the sea, covering an impressive distance in its trajectory.

"I'm impressed. That could get you primum pilum in my legion," he teased.

She tossed her head back and scoffed. "Impossible. I'm a girl. How could I have any attributes normally associated with boys? After all, I am made for what I am. Looking pretty and giving birth to babies..."

She had him there and Maximus gave her the hit, bowing slightly in deference to her wit. "My apologies. My comment was pompous. You are right. There are many talented women whose star is never allowed to shine. It is the way of our world. But there are also many talented men whose bodies are broken in battle or in the service of their masters. I only seek to show you that none of us is truly free. And with the greatest of respect, there are worse existences than the one you live, Aurelia."

She appeared chastened, sitting down on a rock and pulling her knees up to her chin. "I know. I am fortunate compared to most. What an ungrateful girl I am! But I wish...I wish..." she stared out to sea and did not complete the sentence.

"What do you wish?" He stood at a distance and watched her, unconsciously admiring the fine outline of her perfect features and the neat little turn of her shapely feet and ankles. There was not a flaw in her. He recalled the perfection of a child, peach skin and breath sweet smelling. And yet she was a woman. He felt a little chill of fear for what men would do to a child like this.

She shrugged. "To live. Not merely to exist. There is a difference. But I don't know what it is."

Her words made him think. Beneath the girlish manner was an unexpected glimpse of maturity. He wondered if at sixteen such a thought would ever have dawned on him. Or even at any time in his life. But then, he had lived a life that had taken him far and wide and given him constant challenges. She had never seen the horizon further than her own tiny corner of the earth.

"One day, you will marry and leave here. You will travel to Rome and perhaps further, depending on your husband's career. Life will come to you soon enough, Aurelia. Just pray that it does not bring you sorrow. For that is often the cost of too eventful a life."

"Like my mother, you mean?" He noticed how she always seemed to return to that topic. The poor child was deeply affected by her patchy knowledge of her mother's crimes. It was hard enough to lose a loved one without having the extra burden of the shame that Galeria had brought to her family.

Maximus sat down beside Aurelia and joined his hands across his knees, staring out to sea alongside her. "You are not your mother."

"That is why my father keeps me locked away here. He is afraid that I will have her nature. He believes that she had too much licence. I in return have none." She turned to him, pleading with her beautiful blue eyes full of earnestness. "I always wonder why she behaved as she did. What makes a woman do such things?"

Her question made him uncomfortable; he was unsure how to answer it. Aurelia deserved the truth but it was not a palatable one. He did not wish to cause her pain. "Your mother was a spirited woman but she was unhappy. Your father is a good man but he could not make her happy. She was looking for happiness. But she found only despair. Sometimes it makes women lose their sense of self respect. She thought to find the love she craved but looked in the wrong places...Do you remember her much?"

Aurelia nodded. "A little."

"What do you remember about her?"

Aurelia looked heavenwards; he gazed at the clear blue sparkling eyes shining with some memory. "She was beautiful. So beautiful! She always smelled so beautiful and her gowns were the colours of the rainbow. I remember that she always sang to me and spent hours playing with me. She would dress me up and say I was her darling. She loved me. She told me so over and over again. I thought her the most wonderful woman in the world..."

"Then that is what she is. It doesn't matter what the world says about her. She was a good mother. And that is all you need to know. Nobody but you really knew her heart. I have known humble slaves with more nobility and honour than great lords. Whores with hearts of gold. Rough soldiers with dignity. Ruffians who would die for you. It is not wise to judge any person by what the world thinks of them. Judge only by how you know them. Trust in your own counsel. But remember this. In the end we are what we make of ourselves. No one else can be blamed for our failings - or our strengths. If you wish to be a great lady then you shall be so. I did not know your mother at all, but when I am with you, you remind me of someone I did know well...Someone whose integrity and goodness was never in any doubt..."

"Who?" Aurelia asked with interest. "Who do I remind you of?"

"Your grandfather. Your namesake. Now, there is a legacy to be proud of...my lady..."

They had been away too long; Maximus was aware that it was not prudent to distance themselves from the others. Talk was cheap and Aurelia must not be compromised in any way. He stood up and put his hand out to guide her up; she raised her eyes to him and smiled.

Their eyes met and he felt a sudden charge like a lightening strike that made him almost take a step back from her. It was a very long time since a woman's smile had affected him in quite that way, as if he was again the simple country boy he had once been. Perhaps it was the effect of the day and the memories that it raised in him that was casting some sort of spell. But for an instant he had felt...young again. Carefree.

She took his hand and he gently pulled her to her feet. Aurelia looked at him shyly and they parted to stroll back up the strand together side by side. He willed himself to put on the cloak of grave sobriety he had worn these many years but it felt uneasy, no longer the fit of old. He was no more the man he had once been.

But what manner of man had been left in his place?

He handed Aurelia over to the care of her nanny and the maids, excusing their absence as just a post-prandial walk. "Your charge is always safe with me," he murmured to the old lady. "I would never seek to harm the child."

There was something in his voice that reached the tetchy old dame; she softened instantly. She knew he was a different kind of man from those who would debauch and harm the little mistress. A passing notion caught her fancy. This was the man she should have been promised to. A man like this would protect and honour her - and show her the love that she needed. But life never works out in that way. She sighed sadly and tried not to think on the coming betrothal and the image of young Aurelia in the bed of Quintus Metella. For all his formidable reputation for bravery, she saw weakness in his face. And weak men are the worst threat to women. It is how they prove their manhood to themselves.

Taking his leave of the party, ruffling up Lucius's hair, Maximus walked back up to his horse and raised himself into the saddle with a groan. He knew he had pushed himself too hard. The great warrior had less strength now than a pack of little girls throwing a ball on a beach.

Aurelia watched him go, noting the broad expanse of his back as he made his way up the path to the road. His posture seemed to proclaim his stature as a man, a challenge to the world to keep away from him. And yet, face to face, he was so gentle and kind, the least imposing of men. She wished she could curl up in his arms and let him keep the world away from her too, that world she had so much wanted to explore which now seemed suddenly meaningless and dull. A cloud passed over the sun and a sudden chill blew in from the sea. It seemed symbolic to her. Maximus leaves and the sun no longer shines.

He was lying down on his back on the sand, too weak to rise unable even to open his eyes without difficulty. The sun beat down remorselessly on his face. Noises came and went: a burst of laughter, the roar of a wild animal, a harsh command in a language foreign to him. The sand was moving under him or rather he was being conveyed across it, across miles of endless desert, helpless to stop them from drawing him further and further away from where he wished to close his eyes and die.

A sound below and he looked down to realise he was high on a cliff and far below him were children at play. Little boys running along a beach racing each other. He thought he recognised them. All of a sudden he was amongst them running too, with a freedom and ease he had forgotten. Years dropped away and his body was light and strong with the boundless energy of youth. He could hear his own boyish voice as he called to friends. He was faster than they were. He would reach the rocks first.

At the rocks he paused to catch his breath, looking back. His friends were far, far behind him. How could they be so far away when moment before they had been in a pack? Voices alerted him to people nearby; he listened carefully and heard the deep voice of a man and the lighter laughter of a woman. Creeping forward he peered round the large rock and saw a sandy hollow, a secret hiding place, cool and dark. A naked man and woman were lying there in coitus, the man on his back and the woman crudely straddling him. Wriggling closer, he stared at the long slender back of the woman, aroused by her naked flesh, the curve of her peach-like buttocks as she rose and fell on her lover whose hand cupped the swell of her breast.

It was his wife. He turned to look at the man and it was he himself. Then he became the man, deep in his pleasure, his beautiful mistress above him, his manhood buried deep within her silken sheath. She rested her hands on his shoulders and called his name over and over as she reached her orgasm: Maximus, Maximus Maximus...

Maximus, Maximus, Maximus... the roaring chant intensified, deafening his ears, making him wild with an almost animal fervour. The crowd of gladiators faced him; he stood panting, calling them on. One by one they stepped into his vision and with a mighty hack, side step, parry, thrust, blow...he cut a swathe through them all, watching them fall to the earth and leaving his path open. Blood dripped from his sword, sweat trickled down his body, a red mist filled his vision as he walked on. The crowd was a fever pitch; one last obstacle remained.

Before him was a woman bound and shaking with terror, her head covered by a veil, her shapely body almost bare clad only in a tiny torn shift. Her full breasts heaved, the nipples clearly outlined against the thin fabric, her own sweat making the fabric cling to her curves. "Take her...take her, Spaniard!" The crowd shouted. He hesitated. The girl was frightened. Even in his blood lust there was still some humanity left in him. "Are you not man enough? Is that why you kill? Because you can't get it up with a woman?" The cheers turned to mockery. Scorn and insult replaced the fawning shouts. Anger flared up in him. He was still a man. He would prove it to them.

Dragging the woman forward, he used his sword to rip through the remaining cloth of her dress; a cheer rose up as she was revealed naked to the masses. He tossed the sword aside, threw her on her back and freed his erect phallus, forcing her legs wide with hands smeared with the blood of his victims. Down he thrust and hilted inside her, pounding over and over and over again, the distant bellowing of the watchers like a drum beat to his rhythm. The screams of the woman meant nothing to him as he took what he wanted to prove he was still the Spaniard...the Gladiator...Maximus...he finished and threw her from him. She had been a virgin; blood was running down her inner thighs. The girl's head was still ludicrously draped in the veil, he rolled it in his fist and tore it from her face and then gasped in abject horror at what he had done.

Aurelia...

With a shout, Maximus awoke, almost jumping from the bed, the terrible vision of the violated maiden still before his eyes. He was naked, his cock hard and pulsing, the dewy drops of pre-cum showing. He had been masturbating to such a vision? Even in his sleep it was unforgivable. Staggering over to the jug he poured the cold water over his head into the bowl and then dashed the rest over his cock, shivering as the chill hit his swollen member, watching as it subsided, leaving behind a familiar dull ache in his testicles.

He sat on a stool and stared at the wall, recalling the strange and vivid dream, so replete with images of his past. Why had that foul image of the arena found its way in there? What possible reason would his fevered brain have to crave any woman that way, never mind the innocent little girl whose friendship had brightened up his lonely days? Shame filled him for his weakness and the frailties of his manhood. Throwing himself down on his bed, he felt afraid to sleep lest he return to such a nightmare. Something was wrong with him. Had the beast that the arena had unleashed, now starved of blood, begun to look for other degradations to fill its craving for cruelty?