By mid-morning they had were well into their day's journey. The sun was rising higher and the heat of the day was beginning to make itself felt. Inside the wagon, Aurelia was fretful, bad tempered after a poor night's sleep, hot and uncomfortable. But most of all she was bored. Her maids had tried various games to entertain her but she had waved them away and was now lying sprawled out on her bed staring at the ceiling, dressed only in her loose shift.

"I'm so bored!" she exclaimed for the hundredth time.

"We are well aware of that fact," muttered Verilia, as ever unwilling to indulge her young mistress's moods. 

"Can't you ever behave like a slave should?" Aurelia exclaimed imperiously. Verilia shot her a withering glance.

"Can't you ever behave like a lady? I wonder what your precious Maximus would think of you now if he could hear you whining like a spoilt child?"

Aurelia pulled a cushion over her face and muttered imprecations to fall down on the old witch who looked after her. Verilia smiled fondly at her. She was still such a little girl despite the onerous responsibilities that were being loaded onto her young head. She was allowed her temper tantrums, the poor little mite. Life was about to swamp her and she would soon learn what boredom and unhappiness really were.

Just then a sharp tap sounded on the door of the carriage. A maid opened the window and made eyes at the young soldier who grinned back at her. Verilia made a mental note to nip that one in the bud. Praetorian or no, he wasn't making free with any of her charges. "We'll be making a stop for lunch up ahead. The general asks if the ladies would like to stretch their legs for a spell. There's a small lake. He'll organize an awning for shade..."

Aurelia leapt up at that, jumping from the bed, all the lethargy disappearing. "Quick! Quick! I can't go out looking like this! I need to wash. My hair's all frizzy with this damned heat! What should I wear...?"

"Calm down, you little vixen...!" Verilia grinned and the ladies set to work, hardly able to retrain the excited girl. It was interesting, the old woman thought to herself. The young soldier had referred to Maximus as 'the general'. She wasn't really surprised at that. It was hard not to respond to his military bearing and the dignity that was innate in him. As the days went on, he seemed to be returning to some other self. Was it the pull of Rome, too strong even for a man like him to withstand? Or was it something to do with this little girl whose safety he had pledged to preserve? Knowing as he did what her fate was, it made a mockery of his show of concern. It was her own kind that would do her more harm than any danger on the road.

Maximus had enjoyed the ride, moving the caravan quicker than they needed as much to give his horse a stretch as to bring them to their destination more speedily. The events of the night before had played on his mind somewhat and he felt as if the warm wind in his face and the open road before him blew away the shadows of the dark. He had been a fool to entertain her, even in the innocent way he had. She had got beneath his skin and he had to drive her away before she became too tangled in some infatuation with him. But he didn't want to hurt her. His heart ached to think of how her vibrant spirit would be strangled in the claustrophobic halls of the imperial palace, how she would be debauched by Quintus and his cold lust, denied friends and the simple country life of her childhood. If she became the empress it would be even worse. Aurelia would be a cipher, a heavily ornamented broodmare for the imperial family, surrounded by sycophants who would spy on her and try to win her favour for their own ends. He could see her years down the road, a brittle beauty like her own mother - like even Lucilla - had become, taking young lovers and indulging in the intrigue and conspiracy of that world merely for something to do to alleviate the luxurious emptiness of her existence.

Or Quintus would fail and she and her babies would be run through by the same Praetorians who protected her now, on behalf of whoever had succeeded him.

So much for the glory of Rome.

He rode ahead with a few men to reconnoitre a suitable place to stop for a few hours and stave off the heat of the day. The horses needed water and a rest, the men needed a break and the women could not stay cooped up in that wooden box all day. It must be hellishly uncomfortable.

The lakeside shore was inviting. He told the men to take two shifts and go for a swim when they were off duty. He wished he too could plunge beneath the dark cool water but it seemed inappropriate behaviour for him in the circumstances. Cinna and Sentius asked him who had given him the authority to call the shots when they rode in later with the rest of the party. Maximus replied did they want to cool off or not? They shrugged and loped off, ripping off their outer garments and plunging in, unconcerned for the modesty of the women who were witnesses to their unseemly behaviour.

He indicated that the awning should be raised under the trees, away from the water's edge to keep the women away from the cavorting of the near-naked men - and offering them a private route to another inlet of the lake where they might take a gentle dip.

Aurelia kept a look out for Maximus but he stayed at a distance, sitting alone on a rocky outcrop eating and staring ahead, apparently deep in thought. She felt a crushing sense of disappointment and of time slipping through her fingers, like sand through an hourglass. In a few days they would reach the City - and he would be gone from her life forever. She could not bear to waste a moment of this fleeting time that they might be able to spend together.

Having taken a short dip in the cool lake waters, the first real bath she had had for days, Aurelia dried off and sat in the shade, her hair being combed out by a handmaiden as she watched the distant men cavorting in the water. Lunch was served not long after. Eating little and merely looking for an opportunity to evade the watchful eye of her nanny, Aurelia stayed a little apart, her head sunk on her knees, pretending to be dreamy but really highly alert.

A swarm of bees buzzed round the picnic and caused the women to scatter momentarily, running into the trees laughing and screaming; Aurelia took her chance and slipped away, following the edge of the water in the direction of the place where she could still see Maximus some way ahead, facing the other shore. So intent was she on reaching him, she did not see Sentius as he lounged in the shade of a willow, eating peaches and drinking from a skin of wine.

"My lady!" he called out but made no attempt to stand, indicating his state of undress. He was clad only in a loincloth, still wet from his recent swim.

"Oh! Sir...!" she answered and blushed. Sentius grinned and threw her a peach which she caught with a mumbled thanks, squatting on a tree stump to eat it for something to do, trying to keep one eye on Maximus whose back was turned to them and another on this man she was a little scared of.

"Where were you sneaking off to?" he grinned.

Aurelia shrugged. "Just going for a walk..."

"Alone? With this pack of dogs sniffing the breeze on a hot day like this? Unwise, little girl. Just think what the old bag who keeps you on a rope would say if she found out you were flirting with the boys...'

"I am not!" Aurelia answered indignantly. "If you were a gentleman, you would have withdrawn at my approach..."

"Like your boyfriend does, you mean?" Sentius cut off another slice of his peach and ate it, staring at her knowingly, a mocking sneer on his lips. 

"What do you mean, my boyfriend?" He had used the breathy term 'suspirio', heartthrob, that word girls used for their favourite gladiator or charioteer. It was making fun of her but also aimed straight at Maximus. Aurelia felt a prickle of guilt even though they had never acted improperly. But it would be hard to prove - and her actions had hardly been entirely proper either. What was Sentius implying?

How much did he know? What had he seen?

Sentius rose and walked over to her. He was a handsome man, lean and bronzed, vain and proud of his rippling torso. She could not help but look him over with the instinctive curiosity of her age and innocence. He smiled, well aware of her thoughts. "I don't think your feelings for the 'Gladiator' are ones that a young woman on the brink of marriage should be having. I imagine if your betrothed knew that you had been meeting Maximus under cover of darkness, he would not regard that as modest behaviour at all. How far has it gone, sweet cheeks? He been under your skirts yet?" And at that, Sentius pulled her against him, running his hand up her gown and stroking the skin of her inner thigh. "By the gods, you feel like silk...I'll bet you jerk like a ..."

Aurelia slapped his face and forced herself away. "How dare you! How dare you touch me, you foul creature!"

Sentius raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled. "Sweeter than peaches... imperial pussy...you give it out like your mother did? They say she fucked her entire Praetorian guard one night. You heard that story?"

"When I get to Rome, I shall tell Quintus Metella what you did - and he shall have you flayed alive for it...!" Aurelia scrabbled to her feet and backed away.

Sentius merely took a sharp intake of breath and whistled. "What a temper...! I like it when they fight back...you little hellcat. You'll tell him nothing, baby. Nothing. Because if you do, I shall tell him what's really been going on behind his back. And it will be your precious freedman whose skin will be hanging in pieces, I can assure you of that. Metella hates him anyway. He just wants a reason...didn't you know that? Give him a reason and he'll remove your boyfriend as easily as swatting a fly. Maximus has no legions now. Or gladiators to stand at his side. He's alone and he's vulnerable. What are you prepared to do to keep him safe, sweetheart?"

Sentius's tongue lolled out of his mouth; he waggled it crudely at her while rotating his hips. Aurelia took a further step backwards but her feet touched the waterline. There was no escape. Surely he would not try and have her here within hailing distance of the others? As if he read her thoughts, Sentius shook his head. "Not now...but soon...when we're in the City and the rites have all been done...Have a think about it. You know it makes sense...and you won't be disappointed. Whatever he does for you, or your husband for that matter, I can do the same. I promise..." he grabbed at his groin, laughed and then bowed, even making that courtesy seem like an insult. Aurelia shivered, despite the heat of the day. Would he really make good on his promise once they got to Rome?

It was only moments later when she heard Maximus' voice from over to her right. Aurelia jumped with shock and blushed as if he might have known what had just happened to her. A man had touched her private place!

"Why are you wandering about here? Aurelia, please, be sensible for once! There are men all around and you are not supposed to be mixing with them..." Maximus had returned to his earlier formal distance as if the night before had never happened. Aurelia felt confused and weepy. It made her turn headstrong and argumentative to cover her emotional state from him.

"Then go away and stop mixing with me, then! Can't you ever let me alone?" And with that she stormed off, leaving him a little perplexed even if relieved that she was no longer expecting the intimacies of the night before. Young women were strange creatures of moods and fancies, he thought to himself, as he strolled back to the main camp to rouse the men from the torpor of the afternoon. It was time that they began to think about moving on.

Aurelia fled into the trees but did not return to the other ladies quite yet. She watched Maximus from her shelter as he stared in the direction where she had gone, then smiled that beautiful boyish grin of his before shaking his head and turning away. Was she really putting his life in danger by her forwardness? A woman on the brink of marriage could not have another man as a friend. She knew that already. No man would accept that from his betrothed. But Sentius had implied that there were deeper-seated differences between the two men. She wondered what he had meant. Had Quintus played some part in the story of Maximus' tragic past?

Sighing heavily, the young woman decided that she had to ensure that no taint of scandal ever touched either of them again. If she cared for this man at all, she had to do what she could to protect him. It was unthinkable that he should be put in danger by her stupid naïve silliness. 'I am an imperial bride,' she reminded herself. 'It is about time I started to behave like one..."

It was a calmer and more dignified Aurelia who returned to the carriage to continue on their tedious journey. The heat of the day retreated to the welcome cool of early evening. They travelled on a further few hours before camping for the day just north of Beneventum. Verilia almost wondered if her charge was sickening for something so quiet was she that evening, staying inside and making no objections or unreasonable demands. Perhaps she had spent too long out in the sun and was paying for it now. But it was with some relief for once that the old lady tucked her up in bed and saw her curl up with an old rag doll of hers and appeared to quickly fall off to sleep. Another day completed, she sighed.

But she was unsure if that was good or bad.

The next day dawned much the same as the days before, another clear sky and relentless heat soon beating down on them. The men were tetchy, many had slept poorly, plagued by the biting insects and the humid night, and they longed for a decent bed - and their wives and girlfriends back in the City. It had been months since some of them had been home. A few quarrels had broken out the night before; nothing serious, all within reasonable discipline but Maximus saw the signs of men allowed too much laxity and over familiarity with their commanders without the paternal comradeship that an officer could share with them. Quintus would not have tolerated this, he knew. Whatever else he was, his former friend was a good commanding officer. These men had been under Aemilius Cinna and Publius Sentius too long; they were poor leaders and a bad example to the boys in their command. It took a long time to train up a troop - and a very short time for rot to set in.

Mindful of the air of restlessness that was building as the humidity rose, Maximus asked a few of the more volatile ones to ride ahead, look for some fresh meat, deer if they were lucky, rabbit if they weren't. The atmosphere immediately eased as the potential troublemakers were taken from the mix and given something useful to do to expend their energy.

The ride from then on was almost pleasant; Maximus found himself exchanging pleasantries with a few of the more usually taciturn men. He was even asked about some of his campaigns, the battles that were already part of recent history and now taught to young men as master-classes in Roman strategy. Maximus was a little bemused to find that while he was officially a non-person, his public achievements had nevertheless passed into the state annals. It was a facet of the ambiguity of Roman collective memory that was an all too familiar story amongst famous generals of the past whose stellar careers might have ended with an assassin's knife or by being forced into suicide at some emperor's behest, but whose military legacies were jealousy guarded.

His spirits a little more buoyed than usual by this more enjoyable afternoon, Maximus wondered if Aurelia would enjoy a short ride with him. On one of the less lively mounts it would not be remiss for her to take the air with his protection. He knew she could ride; she had once mentioned that her father had insisted she learnt as a child. She must be intolerably bored shut up in the carriage on such a glorious day.

Breaking away from the others, Maximus rode back to speak to the ladies. The rear door was open and the old lady Verilia was fanning herself, her stumpy legs bared as she tried to cool off. He cleared his throat; she hastily pulled down her dress. "Sir?"

"Ask your lady if she wishes to ride. I will have a horse prepared. The going is easy and the air will do her good," he ordered in an unconsciously imperious fashion. Some things lay deep in his psyche even now. His manner with slaves was kindly but it still assumed a superiority of rank that was inbuilt in him. Even now he did not hear it in his own voice. But Verilia did and responded accordingly, both to his natural authority and also the casual virility that could even turn the head of a curmudgeonly old battleaxe such as herself.

"As you wish, my lord..." she nodded and rose, hurrying inside to relay her message to the mistress, expecting her to be overjoyed at the prospect. The girl had been listless today and this seemed a harmless enough entertainment for her. "Aurelia...let me get your stola...the master has asked you to join him for a ride..."

Aurelia had already heard; Maximus' deep voice easily carrying into the small compartment. She turned her face away towards the wall. "Give him my regrets. I would rather lie here and read. It is too hot. Thank him for his suggestion..."

"But...but....!" Verilia began. She was stunned at the girl's sudden apparent indifference. What was the matter with her now? Her moods were as mercurial as Aeolus' winds.

"Do as you are told!" Aurelia snapped and picked up her volume, pretending to settle down to read again.

Verilia shook her head and ran back. "I'm sorry, sir. The lady Aurelia does not wish to ride today. She thanks you for your kind offer..." And the door was closed in his face. Maximus frowned, steering his mount to fall in at the side of the carriage until he drew level with the window above where Aurelia was lying. He looked down on her.

"Are you unwell, madam?"

Aurelia startled and looked up at him in shock. "A woman's ailment..." she said with the pretence of coyness.

She saw him wince as if he should have thought of that and saved her embarrassment. "I beg your forgiveness for my unseemly intrusion..." he replied. Aurelia blushed bright red and felt as if he knew she was lying.

"Please...think nothing of it," she answered and lay back on her pillow, hiding her face behind a posy of sweet-smelling marjoram. He moved on.

"What are you talking about? You are not bleeding!" Verilia muttered under her breath. "Is it your intention to turn that poor man inside out? Have you any idea of what you are doing to him?"

Aurelia closed her eyes and laid the back of her hand across her aching brow. "Go away! I am about to be married. Of all people you should know better that to encourage him!"

Verilia pursed her lips in thought. What had really passed between the handsome general and her little darling? She had thought it just a harmless attraction to wile away the journey and take her mind off the future. He had seemed such a grave and upright man, more like an uncle or an older, wiser brother entirely to be trusted even if he was privately lusting after her. What healthy hot-blooded male would not feel aroused by Aurelia's beauty and innocence? But it had not seriously occurred to her that Maximus might have allowed this friendship to go further than it should have done. Did that explain her charge's odd mood swings of late?

Had Aurelia lost her virginity to this man already and was she now beginning to fear the consequences?  The sooner the child was bedded by her rightful husband the better, Verilia decided, no matter how unworthy he was of her hand. Aurelia was in dangerous territory. And Maximus was after all just a man.

On the afternoon of the next day, the party neared the outskirts of the City, stopping on the crest of the Via Appia as it entered the plain of Latium, giving them a view of the golden metropolis in the distance, shimmering in the heat, like a fantastical mirage in the desert. Even for those who lived there, the first sight of Rome was always breathtaking: the greatest city on earth, a monument to the triumph of their nation and their race. Or their adopted races. Few of any of the residents could actually claim that they were original Romans, the strain of pure blood long since watered down by generations of freedmen and provincial citizens. Not one single member, slave or free, soldier or civilian, of the party entering Rome that day, even Aurelia herself, could trace her ancestry back to the days of the Republican families.

The great walls glittered pale gold in the late afternoon sunshine, towers rose high daring any army to try to break the Cyclopean stones; great buildings soared up in the distance, almost appearing to scrape the sky itself. It seemed that man had all but breached Olympus in the arrogant splendour of this cruel savage capital. And there in the midst, the highest edifice of all, was the great Flavian amphitheatre, the Colosseum itself, the symbol of this warrior people who believed that all human life was in the palm of their hands to take and use as it pleased them.

Maximus could not help but stare at the distant spectacle and feel his blood run cold at the touch of memory that flooded through him. It was only a year ago that he had watched from a similar vantage and had his first glimpse of the city. Images flashed before his eyes of men he had known in those terrible days when he had fought merely to stay alive, degenerating into a killing beast whose ferocity won the crowd and almost took away his soul. But he had made friends there, met good men who were the equal -or even better - of any of his comrades from his army days. There had been an honour all its own amongst their ranks. He had taken comfort from that. No man was an animal after all. Civilisation and the desire for dignity and purpose were innate even in his darkness hour.

It was the last place on earth he wished to be. To avoid the crushing memories of those hateful days was one thing but Maximus also feared that in this place would be thousands of men and women who could recognise him. It was foolhardy in the extreme to chance that but he had no other choice. Aurelia was his charge - and he had to meet with Gracchus. He needed money if he was to escape and find some place in this world where he might live quietly and make a new start. He was not too proud to accept that fact: the money was his anyway, earned by his blood and the effort that had kept him away from those he loved for years.

They moved onwards slowly now as the traffic mounted the nearer they came to the City walls. It was as if everyone in the world was streaming into its portals. The Praetorian cleared a swathe through the humbler folk, driving them off the road to allow the senatorial wagon to pass. Aurelia watched in pity as they trundled past the crowds of humanity staring wide eyed at the lady in her carriage while forced into the wide ditches that flanked the road. She didn't ask for this merely to save an hour or two of time. After all, she was more than happy never to reach the city walls, probably the only person there who felt that way.

No sooner had she had that thought than she was ashamed of it: huddled in a field waiting for the soldiers to pass was a group of slaves heading for the markets, semi naked, caked in filth and dirt, staring out at the world through empty hollow eyes. How could she complain about her lot set against such pitiful fates?

The guards at the gates gave them only a cursory check, unlike the other people who were usually pushed about and hassled, often forced to pay the guards some invented 'tax' for the right to enter. The appearance of a troop of black armoured Praetorians accompanying a carriage with a noble lady was an exception. No one messed with the black crows.

Ducking slightly to clear the low beamed entrance gate, Maximus could not help but feel a strange sense of displacement at the change in his circumstances since his previous arrival. Here he was today, treated with respect and deference, eyes barely raised to his face. He instinctively touched his cheek, still bare and shaved close, his only real form of disguise. But he began to wonder if it was really actually necessary. People saw what they wanted to see. A slave was a slave. A nobleman was a nobleman. Who ever stopped to see the man beneath the mask?

The narrow streets teemed as thickly as the roads that led to the city. Even given the bullying and violence of their guard, it was slow moving to pass through the streets cluttered with shops, stalls, traffic and the detritus of a city of a million people. But as they neared the central areas, the roads widened out and the crowds thinned. By the time they reached the imperial palace spanning a few acres of the Palatine hill, they had risen above the miasma of humanity to the quiet and serene heights of privilege.

Inside, in a wide and cool courtyard where a fountain and flowers gave the impression of a garden, the coach and horses stopped at last. Aurelia was helped down and handed over to the waiting palace slaves who whisked her away from her own ladies, leaving even Verilia to stumble along behind vainly protesting. Maximus stood by his horse and watched her go sadly. Was that to be his last memory of her, a frightened bewildered girl being taken like a lamb to the slaughter?

"Maximus! Well met!" He turned and saw Gracchus approaching having just stepped down from a bier. "We heard of the arrival and I made haste to welcome the lady. There is to be a reception in her honour as soon as she has been given time to prepare herself. You, too, look as though you could do with shaking the dust of the road from your heels. Come, let me arrange for a slave to take us to the bath house and for clean clothes to be provided...I would welcome a decent rub down..."

Maximus held up his hand in protest. "I...have no further business here, sir. It would be prudent for me simply to be on my way..."

"But we have business....!"

Maximus nodded. "I shall call at your home tomorrow..."

"Nonsense! You'll join us all now. Lentulus will wish to thank you for your service to his daughter - and so will Quintus Metella. For all his...limitations...he knows how to act with propriety. And so must you. To walk away now would be somewhat injudicious. Although, if my memory serves me, you were always given to the rash gesture, were you not?" Gracchus smiled, in a not unkindly fashion, but his point scored a direct hit. The last thing Maximus wanted to do was antagonise anyone unnecessarily. There were those who would see him as a potential threat even now and his failure to show himself at such a gathering might imply he had already joined the other alliance and as moving against the Senate. The mindset of these political animals made it impossible for them ever to imagine that there might be men out there who were simply not interested in power.

"You know it is just a matter of days until he is declared?" Gracchus announced as they entered the opulent marble hall of just one of the several thermae attached to the palace. It seemed deserted apart from a few slaves who flitted about like pale ghosts; it was almost impossible not to forget that they were there. "The marriage will be the opening act. It is generally thought that Aurelia will be a popular choice. Her name alone - and her bloodline of course - will remind them of Marcus Aurelius and give Metella the impression that he will rule as the great man's designated heir. It is all a matter of how the mob is handled. They are such sheep. Once the message reaches the streets, they will all soon be spouting the myth that this was the old man's choice. There is talk of a new will that has been found et cetera, etcetera...it worked for old Julius. I doubt that any of this plebeian lot knows much about their history. It will all be new to them..."

Maximus let Gracchus ramble on as the two men stripped, wrapped themselves in towels and lay about the warm room while slaves rubbed them in warmed spiced oils. His body responded to their dextrous attentions. He was getting old. A few days on the road on a relatively easy ride had left him aching and sore, bone weary and longing for a clean bed. He wondered if he would ever feel as he had once done when he was fit and strong, invincible in the arena, at the height of his powers? Or had his injuries slowed him down permanently? There must come a time when the tide turned in a man and he saw the seeping away of his youthful vigour. Had that time come already?

Consul Gracchus was a good man but he would always be a man of his class and a senator of Rome, Maximus observed as he lay face down on the slab, the masseur working his muscles. Gracchus found nothing to wonder at in his description of Aurelia as a commodity to be groomed and styled into 'The Young Empress', the tool of those who were desperate for power. Maximus saw nowhere in this plan for the future an attempt to set in place the real ambitions of Marcus Aurelius. Quintus Metella had no intention of restoring the Republic; even the Senate was not considering such a move. There was more for them to gain individually as power brokers at the inception of a new imperial house. The Republic was dead even to Republicans. The new Rome was a world of personal self serving vainglory.

As he let these thoughts run through him, occasionally grunting or offering a slight retort to show he was paying attention to the Consul, Maximus felt a pang of guilt. He was letting down his beloved emperor. Marcus Aurelius had chosen him to be the guardian of his dream for Rome and had then paid for his decision with his life. And he had once dedicated himself in his heart to strive to fulfil his master's ambitions, to be its champion. But he had failed. Removing Commodus had not been enough. Aurelius had understood that. There had to be a man in charge who believed in that dream too.

But that man was dead. The dream had died with him.

Rising from the massage tables, the two men entered the steaming caldarium. Sitting sprawled on the marble benches, drinking chilled wine to counteract the fierce heat, they said little to each other, both lost in thoughts as sweat dripped from their bodies in a river of oily moisture, cleansing the ingrained dirt of the road and the City. A shower of raindrops pitter-pattered on their heads from time to time from the ribbed arch of the ceiling despite the ingenious design which drained most of the water down the spines of the dome to run into the gulleys at the edge and away. Gracchus thought of the future, of power and campaigns to come. Maximus thought of a beautiful girl alone in this forest of corruption. Aurelius had asked him to sacrifice all for the sake of Rome - and he no longer wished to honour that promise. He did not believe Rome deserved his efforts.

But what had Aurelia done to anyone? Did she not deserve a champion to protect her?

Her public duties began almost as soon as she arrived. Time was of the essence for the men in power. Other candidates for the imperial throne were already amassing their forces and declaring in far off corner of the empire. There was not a moment to lose. Bathed and primped, adorned and bejewelled, Aurelia was prepared like some sacrificial animal. She stared at her reflection in a large polished bronze mirror. She knew she looked good but it failed to please her now. She might as well be one of those wretched slaves bound for the market. It was her body that men wanted. She herself was of no interest to anyone.

Aurelia wondered where Maximus was. Had he left already or was he perhaps somewhere in the confines of the palace still? She chewed her lip thoughtfully as maids flittered around, adjusting her gown and playing with the fall of her veil.

It occurred to her all at once that she was an important woman, at least within her own domain. There had to be some benefit to her rank. Perhaps it was time for her to be more assertive?

"I wish to speak to Maximus Decimus Meridius if he is still in the palace. He led my escort. I would like to thank him..." she announced haughtily. Verilia, sidelined by the palace women, repressed a smile as a senior slave whispered to a little maid who ran to the door and passed the message to a guard.

Not long afterwards, as Aurelia was deemed ready to attend the reception, Maximus was announced as waiting in an anteroom. "Take me there," Aurelia demanded. "And then leave us. My own ladies are chaperone enough..."

Glances were exchanged at this unexpected request but it was difficult to gainsay a direct order from their new mistress - and she was not meeting this man alone. The incident would be reported, of course, to the Prefect's freedman, Pnyxus, but for now they would have to accede to her request. Bowing, she was led to the antechamber where the doors were closed on her and her small gathering of her own ladies. Verilia shepherded the girls to the far side of the room to afford the couple as much privacy as possible. Maximus was standing quietly by the balcony looking out on the panoply of the City down below. He was dressed in a white tunic without the praetexta that by rights he should have worn. He looked indescribably handsome to her. Never had he looked so fine.

"Sir?" Aurelia called as he spun round to acknowledge her.

The vision awaiting him was unexpected. Aurelia was always beautiful, could not be anything less, but in the adornment of an upper class patrician lady, she was quite breathtaking. Somehow the elegant excess made her appear remote and unattainable, more goddess than woman. She was beginning to recede from a mere mortal like him into the lofty heights of the imperial world as once her aunt Lucilla had done. But it seemed more like she was Eurydice, sucked back into Hades to her sad future in the kingdom of the dead. "My lady...!" He bowed, his face set and his lips drawn in a line. Maximus was cloaking himself in the air of sober gravity that he used to disguise his moments of unease.

"Maximus! Don't! Don't be formal with me now!" He looked up again and Aurelia was smiling fondly at him, suddenly serene and calm, walking towards him, her hands with fingers heavily encrusted with jewels, stretched out in welcome. "I just wanted a chance to say goodbye. It would not be right for us to part without a proper farewell. You have been a good friend to me and I wish to thank you..."

"...It is not necessary. It was an honour to serve you...and to know you..." he nodded tersely again. "I wish you well, my lady, and a happy marriage. May the gods always smile on you...!" He tried for a smile but it felt forced and rigid on his lips. A cold stone was lodged in his gut; he even felt nauseous. He wished he could run from her and he couldn't understand why he was afraid to be in her presence. She was just a little girl.

"My name is Aurelia. Say it once more so that I can remember how it once sounded on your lips..." she raised a hand as if to touch his face, but drew it back again.

"That would not be wise...there has to be an end to this....!"

"This is the end. In a short while you will walk away from me and we will never meet again. Say my name...say my name, Maxime...!" She whispered the familiar of his name and her soft voice ran through him like a shiver. It was if she had called to his soul and his soul had answered even if he had not uttered a sound.

"Annia Aurelia..." he uttered gruffly, his eyes avoiding contact with hers.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "I am the granddaughter of a great emperor of Rome. I know my destiny is to bring peace to the chaos that threatens. I will do my duty as befits my station. But you will not leave me without giving me the chance to say this one thing...If I could be anything other than what I am, I would choose to be the woman at your side...."

This time he looked straight at her, amazed at her open and honest declaration. But he did not answer, merely allowing his lips to part in surprise.

"...I have no time for proprieties now. I have my whole life to behave in the right manner. I will carry you in my heart all the days of my life, Maximus Meridius and everything I do from now on, will be to honour you and the life you have led. They stripped you of all you were, you handed your life over for Rome and it dashed you to pieces. You were tossed from the Tarpeian rock of destiny. But in my small way, I will honour you even if no one else ever does.  I will be a woman you would respect, a good and faithful wife, a loving mother and a servant to my nation. I do not do this for Rome. I do this for you. In my secret heart. Every night of my life, I will be with you..."

"You say too much...I am not worthy of this...!"he protested, scared for her that anyone might hear her words in this place of spies and corruption.

"Do not worry! I will never ask you to place yourself in any danger by answering. But I wished you to know how I feel before we part. I am tired of pretence. Maximus, I am glad beyond all things that I had the chance to know you, for if I had not met you, then I would not have learnt how to be a woman. A good woman. I wish my mother had known a man like you..."

For an instant, she thought he would merely bow and withdraw and he did indeed at first contemplate that course of action. But immediately he knew that it would be cowardice to fail her in this moment. So he stood straight and faced her, his features softening and his eyes melting to convey to her his message. The serving ladies held their breath.

"I would never be worthy of you, Annie Aurelia, even were you just the simple country girl from Magna Graecia who crept up on me and stole my heart...but I will tell you this in return. If I but could, I would never leave your side! I would make it my life's work to serve you. But in this strange cruel world in which we live, the thing most feared is love. To protect you, I must never see you again. That is our fate. I once wished to die but the gods refused my request. Now I know why. For in you I have found a reason to live again. And through you, I believe there is a life waiting out there for me somewhere. I never thought I would love anything in this world again. I was wrong. I will pray for your safety and happiness every day that the gods have left to me. Farewell, beautiful Aurelia. May you have a long and happy life, blessed with children and peace...!"

A single tear rolled down her cheek but her face beamed in a radiant smile. He had loved her all along! That knowledge made up for everything. Maximus instinctively raised a hand as it to wipe away its trace but Aurelia stopped him with a tiny shake of her head. "Verilia...my veil...!"

As the woman ran over, dabbed at her mistress's face and began to arrange the heavy veil over her face, Aurelia spoke once more.

"One last favour?"

"Anything...!" he gasped, now far beyond even the pretence of composure.

"It is customary for the imperial bride to walk through the halls of the palace to meet her future husband. I would be grateful if you would accompany me on this last part of the journey. And then I will walk the rest alone..."

"It would be an honour..."he murmured. The veil was drawn over her face and side by side, they walked out of the small room as guards and officials fell in before and behind, leading them through the high silent marble corridors. Neither spoke or made any attempt to communicate but both could feel the intense aura of the other. Maximus willed his strength to her, Aurelia measured herself at his side, dreaming that this short walk was their journey through life.

Too soon the great double doors rose up before them. The party stopped; she was announced. Just then, Maximus felt the brush of fingertips beneath the veil against his own. He reached out imperceptibly to return her touch, just a slight glancing movement that sent a shock wave running through her body - and his own. It was the first and only real intimacy they had ever shared and yet it was as powerful as any pleasure he had ever shared with a woman.

She turned her head and looked at him, even though he could not see her eyes for the covering. Her slender shoulders squared up, as determined as any warrior preparing to face his ordeal, and she looked forward, gliding away from him. "Strength and honour...!" he muttered as she left his side. Her head nodded its acknowledgement to show she had heard, and she made her way to the entourage awaiting her in the room beyond...