He opened his eyes to a misty cool morning, a summer dawn before the heat of the day had begun to rise. Stretching and moaning softly at the stiffness in his back and the dull ache in old wounds, Maximus threw back the rough horse blanket he had wrapped himself in the night before and pulled himself to a sit against the low parapet wall. He had fallen asleep up there, wracked by exhaustion, and despite the hard stone bed, had managed to sleep deeply all night.

Grunting with annoyance at his apparent weakness, aware that he had allowed them all to be potentially exposed and at risk all night long, Maximus rubbed at his face trying to shake the heavy dregs of sleep from him and return to some measure of alert. His hand brushed over his thick bristles: it would not be long before he was sporting a full beard again. It was too dangerous. He would have to shave. Bearded, he was General Maximus or the Gladiator to thousands upon thousands of faceless masses he would never recognize. How many legionaries had viewed him from afar and knew his face as well as they knew their own? He had always tried to meet as many as he could and even memorized names of any man who caught his eye but realistically he had only ever known a tiny amount of the vast body of men he had commanded. But they would know him. And he would pass men as they travelled who would remember instantly.

He got to his feet, urinated in a corner of the roof and then slung the blanket round his shoulders as he made his way down to the yard below. It was still early and only a few slaves were about lighting fires and seeing to animals. Calling over one little girl, he gave her a small coin and asked her to go check on his wife and mother. She returned shortly to say they were still asleep.

In the stables, he fed and watered the horses and then decided to make the short walk into the town where he sought out the bathhouse. It was open but fairly empty at that early hour. Stripping and leaving his soiled clothes in one of the pigeon holes at the entrance, he availed himself of the facility but did not linger in the hot water even though he was sorely tempted just to recline there and doze. A slave gave him a hot shave and trimmed his hair. He felt better even if he patted his naked cheek without much pleasure. Shaving had never been something he enjoyed and the thought of having to keep on top of his stubble daily while they were on the road was a trivial but still irritating annoyance.

Back in the changing room, he noticed that more people had arrived by now and that there were several tunics and sandals stuffed into the neighbouring holes. With a wry grin, he helped himself to a clean set. Losing your clothes at the baths was a common enough occurrence and had happened to him in the past. Someone would take a fancy to a better quality outfit and do a quick swap. He laughed to himself. The recipient of his stained and dusty breeches and tunic would not have much to complain about. They were fine quality - much more so than this rough wool he had settled for. All the unfortunate victim of the crime had to do was get them washed - and the man was better off. Maximus felt no qualms about his act of theft. He had no alternative. Scavenging was simply what he had to do until they had a more secure hiding place.

Slipping out quickly before anyone was the wiser, he wandered about the stalls of the early morning market that was being set up and bought a few items, including a razor and something for breakfast. Back at the inn, he looked about, found all was well and then went upstairs to the room where the women had slept.

Knocking briskly he waited until Verilia's voice shouted a curt: "What do you want?"

"Maximus."

She opened the door ajar and peered out. "The lady is still asleep."

He smiled and bowed his head. "I think it is time you woke her. We want an early start. Here...some food..." He passed over fruit and cheese, a loaf of fresh bread and a small jar of wine. "I shall be downstairs when you're ready..."

"Could you ask them for more hot water?"

He nodded.

"You bathed?" Verilia looked him up and down.

"Yes. I recommend you smoke your clothes before you leave. Just light a fire, let it smoulder, and hang the clothes above. There will be lice in those pallets..."

"You don't have to tell me. I already did that before we slept. Although they had quite a feast on our naked skin during the night..."she grumbled.

"I'll have them send up some lye with the hot water. But hurry. I want to make the sea today. We cannot afford delays..."

Verilia woke Aurelia who was her usual grumpy and uncooperative self; the girl needed a lot of sleep and was always difficult to rouse. But the older woman was impervious to her petulance and simply stripped away the blanket and pulled the girl up. Making clicks of annoyance in the back of her throat, Aurelia stomped around like a typical girl of her age, oblivious to her naked state. She stood in the large terracotta bowl that Verilia had filled with hot water and let the old woman wash her. "I'm covered with bites. There were insects in the straw!" Aurelia whined.

"It didn't seem to stop you sleeping..." Verilia muttered, drying her off and applying a salve she always carried. It was her cure for everything.

Just then Aurelia scratched her nose and then screamed. "I have a bite on the end of my nose! I shall look a fright. Oh no! I can't let Maximus see me like this...I simply can't! I shall have to wear a veil all day."

Verilia wrapped her in the cloth and pushed her to sit on the one stool while she tried to ease a comb through the girl's thick curly hair. Aurelia complained, howling at times and calling the old lady a witch and other less than charming names. It was a common enough occurrence in the morning ritual.

"He will not even notice it. He's a man. They don't pay attention to details..."

"It's on the end of my nose! He's not blind!" Aurelia exclaimed.

"Aurelia...we are possibly being pursued by a troop of the empire's finest warriors...who will cut us down in an instant if they catch us. I doubt Maximus will be thinking about red spots on your nose at a time like this. He's a soldier. He's used to hardship. He was a gladiator. He will have lived in near squalor in the past. Will you stop for one moment and try to act like a woman instead of spoilt child? For I assure you, if he hears this ruckus over nothing, he will certainly see you in a different light. The spot he may forgive - but your tantrums? Most men would run a mile..."

That shut her up for a while but Aurelia seemed very disgruntled while Verilia dressed her and made her eat. That began another round of complaints. "These clothes smell like smoke...they are foul!" she sniffed and screwed up her delicate nose.

"They have been smoked to drive out the lice. You want to itch all day...? And maybe have a few more red spots on your nose?"

"Do we have any perfume?" Aurelia asked. Verilia just rolled her eyes.

"In a few days we will probably all smell so bad of sweat and dirt that you would be grateful for smoke to hide the stench. Maximus is waiting downstairs and is eager to be off. I'm sure you don't want to make him angry...?"

Aurelia flashed her slave a look that could have cut through stone before flouncing out of the door and down the stairs. She pulled her palla over her head as she passed through the tavern below and went on out into the morning sunshine.

Maximus was attending to the horses already waiting in the yard. He watched her as she came out, idly observing her fractious manner, shaking his head. Young women were a handful. Who knew when they would suddenly change from one mood to another? Out came Verilia on her heels, burdened with their baggage. That made him sigh. Aurelia was a strong young woman. She could have shared the load. But it would simply never have occurred to a girl raised in a household of slaves who would silently ensure that every aspect of her life was taken care of, to step in and help. It wasn't that he didn't understand or that he blamed her - there had been a time when he too had probably been just as careless about the unfortunate men and women whom fate had decided must live only to make the lives of others better. But Aurelia loved this old woman like a mother. A few nights ago she had demonstrated unconsciously that she was willing to die for her.

But not to carry a bag for her. That was something that would never occur to her.

There was a muttered interchange between Aurelia and Verilia; they were obviously at issue over something. He decided to attempt to intervene, unsure whether or not that was wise.  "Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept well?"

In an instant Aurelia's mood changed. She came over a little coy; her simpering response to him could even be noticed with her head covered. He was surprised about that. She had done it unwillingly the night before but suddenly appeared cooperative. That pleased him. She was becoming more wise to their situation. "I slept very well, sir. And...I thank you for indulging us. The night under cover will have benefited us all. But you look wonderfully rested, Maximus...and you have bathed I think..?"

He smiled and nodded. Verilia rolled her eyes. 

"You looked a little...upset before, Aurelia. Is everything well with you?"

Aurelia assured him that it was. Verilia interrupted. "She was bitten by insects. There is a spot on her nose. Naturally that is the worst thing that can happen to a person and we will have to suffer the consequences of this terrible tragedy for the rest of the day, I should imagine..."

Aurelia made a sharp intake of breath. Maximus repressed a smile, not very successfully. "There's no need to laugh at me! I wasn't making a fuss. It was just an observation..."

"I would never laugh at you, my lady. But..." and at that he chuckled despite his words. "...But there is something very appealing in listening to the pair of you squabbling. It sounds like..." and he smiled broadly again. "...it sounds like women. It is a sound I like. The trivial bickering and bantering of women over nothing much. It's a healthy sound..."

"Could you be any more smugly insulting if you tried? Why don't you just say we're silly twittering idiots and be done with it!" Aurelia snapped back, her simpering mood quickly replaced with a sharp retort.

That made him laugh even more. "I do so love women," he replied and to the complete amazement of both of them, he balled the fabric of the palla in his right hand and slipped it from her head, planting a tender kiss on the end of her nose, over the itchy mark of the bite. "Does that make it better?" His eyes danced at the sight of her round-eyed stare and her pretty mouth falling open with shock at his unexpected action.

Aurelia was struck dumb. So that was the secret to silencing her, was it?

"Is there something the matter, Lia?" he muttered, moving even closer to her and lowering his eyelashes instinctively as he dropped his head and all but nuzzled against her cheek. This time Verilia's cough was ignored and the old woman turned away politely to give them some privacy.

"You...you kissed me...!" Aurelia's hand went to her face, touching her nose as if she would find some evidence of it there still.

"I did indeed. And I intend to do so again..." And with that, he nudged her cheek with the tip of his nose, tilting her chin with his left hand as he did so and leaned in to give her a gentle but full-mouthed kiss. Her little expiration of sigh at the sensation of his lips gave him entry - and he chanced a slight taste of tongue. Her body seemed to dissolve against him; he let his hands caress her upper arms as he pressed a little deeper. Their bodies began to flow towards each other imperceptibly; his knee prodding against her thighs (just a little), her hips thrusting forward (only the tiniest margin), her hand reaching up to anchor on his shoulder and the other slipping round his waist. It seemed to her that time had stopped and the world had disappeared from view. If he had not been holding her she was sure that her legs would simply have collapsed from under her.

Gently he broke the kiss and eased away, steadying her as she rocked back slightly on her heels, her eyes still closed. They opened - and for long moments they contemplated each other, saying nothing at first, still lost in that first bewildering moment that had come out of nothing and yet had been promising so long.

"You kissed me...again!" Aurelia murmured with a sigh.

"I did indeed," his deep voice, even lower now, rumbled in reply.

"I have never known such pleasure in all my life!" She answered dramatically. Maximus smiled and traced his finger down her soft cheek.

"Praise indeed for just a kiss! What a gift for a man's fragile self-esteem...!" he muttered and then, bending even closer, he whispered in her ear. "...but it is only the beginning, Lia. One day I will take your body places that it never dreamed possible...one day...one day... soon..."

It was time to leave. Where a moment ago, Maximus had been the playful lover, he immediately donned his cloak of watchfulness and shepherded the women to the horses. They were soon back on the paved road out of the town, heading again towards the Appian Way and Brundisium, their destination. Aurelia did not speak, far away in her own head, re-living his kiss and savouring the promise of what was to come. Verilia looked over fondly at the calming effect his impulsive action had had on the girl. Who could blame her? What woman with a heart beating in her breast could not have been lulled by such a man? But whether she preferred Aurelia the petulant girl to Aurelia the dreamy eyed mistress would remain to be seen.

She had a feeling that this incarnation of the child she loved so much would be even more painful to bear! But he had the reading of her, there was no doubt about that. And she was ready. Ready for a real man. He would be the making of her.

They picked up the first confirmed sighting the third day on the road. Taking a stop at a small settlement for something to eat and to shake the dust of the road from them, the riders soon picked up information that suggested a party of three travellers had stopped nearby for the night: a man and two women, staying at the inn. It was a mere chance that the soldiers had detoured off the road at that place. Cinna smiled. The gods were him then. Or was Sentius guiding his hand?

At the inn, the presence of the Praetorians caused abject fear; everyone was ready to tell what they knew. This was not Rome; country people were always in awe of imperial authority, especially military. Their folk-memories of devastation in past civil wars and the usual consequences of displeasing such men reminded them what they could call down upon their homes and families if angered.

"Three people stayed here the night before last. Describe them..." Cinna paced up and down as the innkeeper sweated and stumbled over his words.

"A man...two women...one young, one old..."

"Details. Tell me more..." Cinna whispered softly in his oleaginous way.

"More, sir? Well...the man was not young but not old either...he was soft spoken but he had a manner about him..."

"...Manner?"

"Like he was a person used to getting his own way. You knew not to mess with him. Maybe an army officer...well spoken...educated type...upper class...looked like he'd be useful in a fight. Muscular fellow...that any good?" Cinna gave no assent, keeping his face neutral.

"The women?"

"One old...he said it was her mother but I doubt it. She looked like a servant. The other was a young woman. Kept her head covered..."

"...No...I saw her hair..." One of the girls at the bar chipped in. "He kissed her...out there in the yard just before they left. Pulled off the veil. Hair was blonde. Never seen hair like it. Like golden thread..."

Cinna and his adjutant exchanged glances. Had to be them. How many women with that colouring were going to be wandering the main route to the port in this part of Italy?

"How long since they left?"

"Yesterday morning. But they can't travel fast. They were on old nags and the women will hold him back. No match for Praetorians, sir..."The innkeeper rubbed his hands together and tried to fake a smile; he was as obsequious as he knew how.

"How far's Brundisium?"

"A good day's ride, sir..."

Cinna grunted with annoyance. "Enough time for even them to embark...Okay lads, saddle up. Let's see if you can break your own record, hey?"

Aurelia's first experience of boats had not been a kindly one. Her second venture was even less agreeable. The girl suffered badly from nausea.  This time, on a larger ship, a trireme bound for Africa crowded with passengers and laded heavily with goods, out on the open sea, she was laid low badly. The Mediterranean is an unpredictable sea at the best of times, but as summer was coming to an end, it was known for sudden storms to blow up almost without warning. One moment the sea could be as calm as a pond with just a warm breeze to move the sails - and moments later the water had become a swirling torrent, the sky became heavy with rain-pregnant clouds and waves crashed down angrily on the decks. No wonder the sailors told tales of the wrath of Neptune. Only an angry deity could explain such happenings.

Hugging the heel of Italy, the sailing had been smooth; Maximus, Aurelia and the old lady had sat on deck for a few hours playing a game of chance. There was a definitive sense of relief that was unspoken between them, a loosening of the tension of days. Maximus seemed almost carefree, lying on his side in the sunshine teasing and boasting at his prowess at the game - and then promptly losing to Verilia who cackled with glee and told him he would have to grow a few more white hairs if he hoped to beat her. Aurelia smiled and stared lovingly at him, occasionally catching his eye and receiving a wide grin back. For a time they could almost believe that they were free and about to embark on a new life together.

But the weather's sudden change as they rounded the coast and passed into the open sea, where the unpredictable currents of the Mediterranean met those joining from the wide Gulf of Taranto seemed a warning to them that the gods were far from done with them. Suspicious people would believe that they had offended the Immortals with their act of infamy and that this was the sign from the heavens threatening the reckoning to come. Maximus was more realistic. This was typical of the sea at this time of year and was one of the reasons why the fighting season would soon be winding down for the winter break. Another four or five weeks and the seas would be dangerous. This was a notorious spot for shipwrecks.

What Aurelia thought of the change was hard to know. She had taken refuge in her cabin and spent a day so violently ill that even Verilia began to worry about her, feeling none to well herself. The girl vomited until she had nothing left inside her and was bringing up bile; she lay semi-conscious moaning to herself incomprehensibly. At nightfall, when the worst of the storm was abating but the seas were still frighteningly high, Verilia sought Maximus on deck. He was standing braced by the rail, staring thoughtfully out towards the coast where they were heading, lost in contemplation. She staggered over to him, clutching frantically for a hold as the ship lurched from under her and her feet slid on the treacherous planks, drenched in wave and vomit.

"Master!" she called but her voice was lost in the wind. The first thing that alerted Maximus to her presence was when she all but fell against him grabbing at his tunic to stop herself from being blown over the side.

"I've got you....I've got you...how is she?"

"Sickly, sir. So very bad. I'm afraid for her. How much more of this can she take?" Verilia was panicking, weakened and debilitated herself by the same condition.

As he had done once before, he decided to bring her up on deck, despite the inhospitable condition. "Get blankets and some clean water. I'll carry her up and we can find a sheltered corner somewhere. The fresh blast of the wind will help and the storm is turning. It won't be long until the worst is over..."

A short while later, he entered the cabin which was stuffy and noxious, the smell enough to turn his own stomach. He should not have left her here so long. Crouching by the narrow cot, he placed his hand on her head, she was clammy and cold, her skin drained of colour, as grey as the grave, her lips blue. She was shivering despite the foetid atmosphere and her shift and hair were damp with a chilly sweat.

"Aurelia...sweetheart...I'm going to take you on deck. You can't stay down here anymore..."

"NO!" Aurelia curled up into a ball and tried to hide herself from him. "You can't see me like this...go away...please...leave me alone...!"

He didn't even attempt to argue with her, merely standing and slipping his arms under her body, lifting her easily and straightening up. She made a futile attempt to protest but her strength was gone. Now she was in his arms, however, she seemed glad of his protection and nuzzled down against his chest. Bending low to exit the door, he took his time so as not to inadvertently jolt her or knock her against the narrow sides of the corridor. She was no weight but the going would not have been easy even with the use of his arms; if he stumbled or fell as the boat lurched violently, he did not dare to think what might happen to his precious cargo.

They made their way slowly but eventually were out on the deck. Verilia found a corner and busily arranged a makeshift bed in the lee of the wind. They lowered Aurelia down and set to erecting a simple shelter, an awning to cover her as best they could from the spray and the light rain that still fell.

Satisfied that was the best they could do, Maximus knelt down to check on her. She was half asleep and still very cold despite the blanket they had wrapped her in. Sitting down by her, leaning against the side of the central structure of the upper deck, he pulled her into his arms and Verilia tucked the blanket round them both. Inside he used his hands to rub her and try to warm her up and soon enough the chattering of her teeth stopped and she settled into a more normal slumber. "Mother...come and join us...you are half-dead with fatigue and cold yourself. We will keep each other warm."

The old lady, herself beyond argument, snuggled in next to him. He was so big and warm and solid, she thought to herself. What a bed for a woman to lie on! And soon all three were fast asleep, unmindful of the wind and the high seas that raged about them.

Aurelia awoke, her eyes fluttering, unsure where she was. There was a noise that was disturbing her, a low rumbling; she lifted her head to locate the source.

And smiled. She was lying curled up in Maximus' lap; he was deep in slumber, head back against the wall, snoring softly. He must have held her all night. How uncomfortable his sleep must have been!

As gently as she could, she eased off the blanket and disengaged herself from his arms. One had fallen onto her thigh, the other was round her waist. Crawling away, she managed not to wake Verilia who was sprawled against Maximus' left shoulder, snaffling and snoring herself, and giggled at the sight of them, covering them both over again.

It was a beautiful early morning, just past dawn. The raging seas of the night before had vanished and the surface of the water was like a vast glassy pool with just a gentle swell. The ship was skimming lightly across the waves, now nursed along by a zephyr-like breeze that carried the promise of a fine day.

Aurelia breathed deeply of the ozone-scented air and felt human again for the first time in two days. She made her way to the rail and leant on it, enjoying the sparkle of pale sunlight on wine-dark sea, the blue and white heavens above and the hazy horizon far in the distance where she could just make out the purple edging of land before them. Her eye was caught by a sudden movement beneath her and with a gurgle of delight, she recognised dolphins arriving to lead them into harbour.

Dolphins were not new to her, having observed them playing in the bays of her native Sicily but she had never observed them so close at hand, dipping in and out of the waves, almost skimming the edge of their bark in their swift exuberance. She had read many stories of how dolphins appeared and guided shipping home, like a pilot showing the secure channels and the safe deep waters of narrow sea lanes to the sailor. There were legends like Arion and the Dolphin that had immortalized the special place these joyful creatures had in the hearts of men. Everything she had ever heard seemed proved by the sight before her. It was a singular moment of delightful happiness that made her remember that here they were embarking on the great adventure that she had always dreamed she might have. To travel and see wondrous things at first hand, not simply spend her life in seclusion reading of what the world was like! How fortune favoured her!

Just then she felt strong arms encircle her waist and pull her close; Maximus must have woken and come over to join her. She leaned back and murmured her pleasure; he bent and kissed her neck, moving her hair out of the way to find it. Aurelia did not this time think of if she was washed and perfumed and combed. She simply reacted instinctively to the warm soft touch of early morning man.

Giggling, she shivered as his bristles tickled her skin. He rubbed his cheek harder against hers and held her tighter while she squirmed and pretended to try and escape. "It's scratchy!" she laughed.

"I need to shave..."

"I like it. It makes you look tough and dangerous..." she answered turning her head to catch his eye.

"Women say the oddest things..." he observed with a grin.

Aurelia pointed out the dolphins. "Look! Dolphins! They are so cute! They look like they are smiling!"

He laughed. "And why would they not smile? The sun shines, the sea is blue and a day of fun and frolic lies before them. What do they know of the world of men and all the darkness that it contains? They live free and wild - no man owns them..."

"It bodes well. We are free and alive and we should be laughing too on this wonderful morning! I was thinking yesterday when I felt so ill. Here we were scared of the wrath of Quintus and now we looked like we would drown at sea, or die of sickness! I decided then that I was going to be a different person if the gods allowed us to survive. I made a vow that it we reached Africa safely then I would begin to live each day to the full and stop fearing tomorrow. For who knows when the end will come - and how could we ever really change our fate? I want to live like those dolphins! Diving in and out of life with a smile on my face and seeing the joy in the simplest pleasures! What do you think?"

Maximus nodded. "I think you have just proved yourself worthy of any great philosopher. If all men lived like that - then we would be happy all the days of our lives. You sure you aren't a Stoic, Lia? Or perhaps some more benign adjunct of that impossible regime?"

She whirled around at that, unsure if he was teasing her, but he did not appear to be. "I suppose you think me such a silly girl..."

"On the contrary. It has taken me many years to get to where you appear to be already. I am afraid I was too conventional a thinker for most of my life, blindly obeying my duty and never questioning why some men had the right to rule the world and bring down death and destruction on the peoples they encountered. I wasted the years I should have spent with my wife and son, always planning for tomorrow when the war was won...and yet there was always another war, another campaign and another excuse to keep me from them. I thought we had all the time in the world. How naïve, I was! When I try to count the number of days I spent with my family in all my married life, I doubt it would even add up to one whole year...I will never waste a single moment of my life again. Nothing under the sun is more important to a man than the people he loves..."

Aurelia smiled at his words but it was a sad smile. She understood that had his wife lived, he would never have looked at another woman again. It made her distressed to realize that her happiness was founded on such a tragedy and someone else's heartrending loss. In her own small way the events of the last few months had begun to effect a fundamental change in this young woman. She was beginning to look with jaundiced eyes at the society in which she had been raised.

"I fear I am a very shallow girl all the same," observed Aurelia. "Look at that poor old woman. I love her so much and yet I treat her so very badly. She thinks only of my welfare from the moment her eyes open to the moment they close at night - and I let her break her back attending to me. A young woman full of strength and vitality and I stand back while she fusses and carries for me! I am so spoiled! I am so selfish!"

He shook his head. "We are what we are raised to be until something wakes us up to the reality of the world. Most men and women in truth never have the benefit of that epiphany. For a young patrician woman - who might have been the empress - to even think such a thing is a startling act of self- awareness. Yes, you are spoiled. Yes, you are selfish. But then that is all you have ever known. But for all that, you are wonderfully kind hearted and courageously bold. It is no wonder Verilia loves you so. I have known you such a little time and I fully intend to spoil you as much as I can..."

He kissed her then and it seemed natural, as joyful and uninhibited as the wild play of the creatures down below them. The experience reminded him of young love, that heady, all-encompassing passionate emotion of his youth, before he had learnt to subjugate his desires to the rigid authority of the state. And yet, the feeling was tempered by his knowledge as a man, by the danger they were still facing, by his real understanding of love. It did not make his passion less deep but merely intensified it. True love comes rarely in anyone's life and deserves to be treasured.

Huddled close, still leaning over the rail, they cuddled like a boy and a girl, he instinctively pressing against her back, finding the curve of her shapely buttocks as a resting place for his manhood. Aurelia dreamily watched the dolphins and then suddenly observed. "I hope you didn't have an uncomfortable sleep. I should think you are stiff this morning..."

At that Maximus laughed softly in her ear, muttering. "Stiff this morning? I rather believe I am..."

There was something in his tone that sounded different even if she couldn't quite detect anything in his actual words. But it sounded as if he was teasing her. Whirling round, she looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

Maximus grinned boyishly and bent his lips to her ear, whispering something which made her eyes grow large and round. She blushed but could not resist a glance downwards. This was what Lucilla had been talking about! She could hardly believe Maximus would just refer to it so casually.

"Well...you won't see anything...but you could feel..." he murmured and ground himself against her thigh. And feel it she did, a hard solid protrusion which she realized she had felt before but her girlish mind had always dismissed as something else: a knot of clothing, a concealed weapon, a money bag...this was not the first time that Maximus had been in this state of tumescence around her, she now realised. But never before had he indicated it to her.

"Maximus! You are so bold! I am decent girl!" Aurelia pulled away giggling. He caught her arm and pulled her back in.

"Not for long, if I have anything to do with it," he answered playfully. And he took her hand and drew it down to cup his genitals. She shrieked with laughter, waking up a few people about them, who angrily swore at them to go and do it somewhere else. The pair of them burst out laughing, like two youngsters who have just discovered love.

"I close my eyes for five minutes and he's off taking liberties, I see!" A voice rang out. Verilia was awake and standing hands on hips, surveying their antics, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Put her down and go and take a walk around the deck. Something tells me you need to cool down, young man..."

And meekly Maximus bowed his head and backed away but not before pointing to Aurelia and mouthing: 'Later!', and sauntering off with a grin.

Verilia shook her head. Aurelia pouted, unconcerned. "It won't be long now..." the old woman muttered obliquely. "And about time too. You've both been dancing around each other far too long..."

Cinna and his men traced the fugitives easily enough. They had taken passage on a merchant vessel bound for Leptis Magna, Severus' birthplace, interestingly enough. The young Praetorian considered that fact carefully and then dispatched an imperial rider back to Rome conveying the information so far. He asked for more men now that his instinct had been proved correct and greater resources to be made available to him, including the co-operation of the governor of Africa Minor. The forces of imperial authority were beginning to close the traitors down. He could smell revenge on the air and also see his career taking flight. Should he succeed in this matter for Quintus Metella and his superior subsequently became the next emperor, there were no heights to which he himself would not rise. This could be the single most important chance he had ever received in his life. Failure was not an option- both for himself and for the memory of his friend whose life had been cut short so cruelly. This would be his moment.

The merchant ship carrying the runaways, whilst large, was not a vessel made for speed; a bad storm the first night out would have slowed them down and possibly blown them off course somewhat. Commandeering a fast imperial galley moored at Brundisium normally meant as a swift courier for official provincial mail, he knew they could cover the same distance in half the time and, with a bit of luck, even reach their destination before Maximus and the women.

They boarded and sped off in pursuit, Cinna standing at the helm, staring into the distance, the cast of obsession on his gaze. 

It was late afternoon when they docked at the great trading port of Leptis Magna, a cosmopolitan melting pot, teeming with people from all corners of the Empire and beyond. Aurelia watched spellbound as they disembarked and she saw the whole panoply of this exotic city sprawled out before her in its towering and chaotic majesty.

The heat wrapped them like a heavy blanket as the burning African sun beat down on their heads; if Sicily was an oven in the summer months then this land was an inferno. The wharf was thronging with humanity, people of races and colours unknown to the girl, every shade under the sun, clad in an array of strange and brilliant and costumes, or almost nude in their ragged loincloths.

Stevedores, overseers, merchants, traders, agents,  sailors, labourers, slaves, whores plying their trade dressed in vivid, garish colours, revealing their oiled brown bodies in their flimsy coverings; young boys with painted eyes and curled and perfumed hair enticing passersby to buy their bodies, food sellers, tavern keepers, street entertainers, beggars, vendors, near-naked children running along trying to earn their keep by carrying bags, touts and thieves preying on tired travellers and distracted seamen with their pockets disembarking full of coins. And, of course, there was the imperial administration with its ever-present bureaucracy: grain officials overseeing the despatching of the vital supplies which kept the population of the Empire fed, fiscal officers inspecting cargoes and levying taxes, soldiers guarding transports, imperial agents, port authority personnel. There was a garrison of the local legion on hand too to deal with the civil disturbances which were common in any port, particularly where disparate races lived and worked in such close proximity.

Maximus held her hand and steered her through this miasma of people, sights, smells and noise. Aurelia said little, staring openmouthed, entranced by the whole experience. Verilia just looked offended by these strange and disturbing sights; she disapproved of other lands and other peoples, clicking her tongue in annoyance and holding up her nose in the air.

Maximus was alert to the fact that in this vast crowd of aliens, the chances that someone who knew him might be present was higher than ever. All he wanted to do was get off the streets to give them time to rest and plan the next step. He took rooms for them in a lowly tenement in the middle of the commercial district of the town, a small apartment that gave out onto a tiny square. It was a humble accommodation but in such a place there was anonymity; they were surrounded by people who all largely kept themselves to themselves and didn't give a damn for the business of their neighbours. It suited him well.

Verilia set to work, restoring the place to a decent habitation, chasing Maximus and Aurelia out to go and find food for her to prepare. Alone at last, they strolled about the streets in early evening with more delights for Aurelia to savour. He stopped and bought grilled meats steeped in aromatic spices that had been cooked over fires. They bought flat bread fresh from ovens, still warm and plump ripe dates and bananas with an amphora of rich red wine from the Lebanon.

With their arms full of their purchases they strolled back through the crowded alleyways savouring the balmy evening, happy in each other's company. Back in the rooms, they ate better than they had in days, laughing and chatting around the table together. The wine was rich and Aurelia was unused to drinking it un-watered; it went to her head. Soon there were two bright pink spots in her cheeks and she was giggling. Verilia went to clear away the dishes while Maximus and his lady wandered over to the window to look out on the night in search of some cool air, following the sounds of music and laughter.

The tiny square below, little more than a space in the shadow of the tenements that clustered to the four corners seemed to be the setting for some sort of celebration. A fire was burning around which a motley collection of people of all ages was gathered. Ancient musicians- toothless old men, their skin dark and gnarled as tree bark- were playing a curious music that seemed to Aurelia strange and haunting. There were flutes, shrill and atonal to her ears, plangent stringed zithers making a harsh discordant sound, percussive objects clanging out the beat and the ever-insisting thrum of drums setting up a rhythm that seemed to vibrate through the entire body and touch a primal place inside, a call of nature and the wild.

A young woman dressed in a ragged skirt and a tattered bodice, veils hanging from her thick dark hair, her face covered with a cloth and a chain of golden leaves on her brow shaking as she whirled, danced for the crowd of onlookers. She had rows of bracelets on her wrists and ankles that rattled as she moved. Maximus and Aurelia stood close both watching her sway, her feet stamping out the beat and her hips gyrating sensuously to the music. Her belly undulated, her heavy breasts heaved, her arms weaved a snakelike series of movements. It was hypnotic.

Aurelia felt herself grow warmer, despite the cooler night temperature, as she observed the scene. Something about the sound and the visual feast of this beautiful sensuous dancer was affecting her. She looked up at Maximus but he was watching her not the scene outside with a hooded expression that was hard to read. There were beads of sweat on his brow. Suddenly he moved away and poured himself another drink, throwing himself down on the chair staring at the floor -but Aurelia still wanted to watch.

At first she merely began to sway from side to side, almost without realising it, and then her hips took up the movement, now more consciously aping the dancer. She copied the arms, watching herself now as she rolled and twisted, her fingers delicately mimicking the postures that the girl below was demonstrating. She began to smile to herself, pleased with her discovery that she too could dance and moved away from the window, gliding into the room, performing for her own audience an erotic display guaranteed to fire the blood of any man.

Maximus had already been struggling against the raging of desire, heated by the wine and the strange stirring music - not to mention the proximity of Aurelia. The girl was wearing just a light shift, no longer bothering to cover herself with more decorum in front of him. Even Verilia appeared not to regard it unseemly anymore for him to witness her undressed. All evening he had tried to keep his eyes from the outline of her full breasts which strained slightly against the fine fabric, her nipples clearly visible. Her long legs were partially bared and he believed she was naked beneath. That knowledge was on his mind constantly and try as he might, he could not restrain his thoughts from imagined sights and the secret longing to touch and taste and smell her intimately.

The music had only increased his discomfort as had the woman below acting out an act of sexuality before men, although he doubted Aurelia understood the hidden messages in the dance, the orgasmic writhings of the body and the wild, ecstatic expressions on the dancer's face. The rhythm seemed to pick up the thrum of his own heartbeat and the pulse of his heated blood; he could hear it louder and louder inside his head drowning out all other thought and feeling but his powerful lust for the woman he desired.

Pulling away from her, he had taken a seat at a distance, took a drink, making an attempt to recover his wits. He suspected that Aurelia had succumbed to the effects of imbibing too much of the local wine, no doubt she usually took it well watered. Her flushed cheeks and the inhibition of her behaviour disturbed him. He could not take advantage of her in this loosened state.

And then she turned and began to slowly advance on him, her hips swaying sensuously, at first hesitant and then finding her way and becoming more languid and beguiling. She untied her hair and tossed it about her shoulders; it tumbled down and fell in front of her face in a wild profusion of spun gold. Her arms rose above her head; he could see the soft downy growth beneath her arms and ached for its companion triangle between her slender legs. As she grew in confidence, her movements became more and more provocative until he wondered how much of this was copied and how much was instinctive in a woman's soul - to intoxicate and seduce a man with just one rotation of her hips or toss of her head.

He could not take his eyes away. Aurelia was now before him, so close he could have reached out and pulled her to him. Her hands went to her own body. She smoothed them over her breasts and down the contours of her waist and hips, flaunting herself quite openly and then began to ease the fabric of her shift up her legs to show more of them to him, pressing her breasts forward almost into his face. She was laughing now, daring him even, a dangerous mood possessing her. He knew they were close to reaching a point from which neither would be back away.

This was not how it was to be between them. He knew his mood. He was a man with tastes and desires far beyond what an innocent girl might expect in her first tender experiences in the arms of her lover. In his mind, he imagined that when the time came it would be natural somehow, with at least some sense of a ceremony, a visit to the temple perhaps, the official binding of marriage and he would follow all the traditions, be gentle and understanding, hold back and simply show her what must be done. More would come later as her knowledge of her own body grew.

But tonight, she would clearly push him too hard, too fast and he feared he would scare or hurt her. For long moments he hovered on the brink, indecision gripping him, longing to give into the overpowering urge to possess her, but holding himself away. Then he stood up, pushed her away gently and walked out, slamming the door behind him and running for the streets below. He skirted the crowd and made his way through the dark alleyways until the noise of the dance was a distant but still audible thud in his soul.

And he entered a dirty tavern, ordered a flask of cheap wine and sat in a shadowy corner, his head in his hand and burned for her.

Aurelia gasped with shock as he bolted, calling his name in vain. She ran after him but as she reached the door, she found herself restrained by her nanny. "Let him go! He needs to think. He is not a man to give in to desire on a whim. Aurelia - you drove him hard then. It is time you began to realise the power you hold over a man, especially one who loves you as desperately as he does...!"

"But...but...what is holding him back! I want to please him! I would do anything for him....anything! We have run away together. What is stopping him now? Why doesn't he... wish to...do it to me?" She was confused and embarrassed, sure she had offended him in some serious way and that he would now think less of her.

Verilia shrugged. "I don't know. There are not many men in this world who would not have taken you by now given the circumstances and you offering yourself on a plate every where he turns. He is an honourable man and wants to show you respect. Perhaps he feels he should marry you first. He is hard to understand - but know this....he is a prize beyond gold. When he is ready - when he feels the time is right - he will love you as few men can. Be patient and do not make it harder for him...." The old lady took her charge in her arms and hugged her.

Aurelia sighed, even more bewildered by Maximus than before. Just when he seemed to have cast aside all barriers between them, he retreated back inside himself again. Was he remembering his wife? Would she always stand between them? Did he have doubts even now? Verilia coaxed her to bed, waited until she seemed close to sleep, and blew out the candle. She wondered whether Maximus would return tonight or would he simply find himself a whore and work off his lust on her well-used body? Who could blame the man?

But, just in case he returned with his mind made up to join Aurelia after all, the servant made herself a little nest for a bed in the outer room. She hoped her master would overcome his principles and lie with the girl at last. This thing between them was at fever pitch; it was in danger of affecting the safety of all three. Maximus was becoming obsessed, dropping his usual state of alert. If the couple came together, got the thing over with and settled to a normal healthy sexual life, then it would be wiser all round. Verilia fell asleep contemplating how she might effect this turn of events if nature  continued to refuse to take its course.

Spies had roamed the streets that night, whispering and asking subtle questions, offering money in exchange for even snippets of possible sightings. All evening information was arriving at the legionary headquarters where Cinna and his men had taken lodgings. Finally a possible address was found and the troop of men prepared to close in on their quarry, the squad increased by a detachment of the legion offered by their general, keen to be in the good favour of Quintus Metella.

Deep night was chosen as the best time for their raid, when even Maximus, no doubt dead asleep by then satiated with the little whore's tempting body, would be at rest. They would have the element of surprise. If they took the girl and the old woman quickly, Cinna knew Maximus would not fight back for fear they might be harmed. Then the gladiator would at last be defanged and it would be a simple matter to bring him back to Rome in chains, humiliated and spat upon.

And the girl would be his.

The men moved like wraiths through the dark night, led on by the local scouts who had prepared the ground for them. Sealing up the square, throwing out the final few drunken men and their girls, extinguishing the dying embers of the bonfire, they advanced on the building that they believed housed the runaways. With every entrance guarded, Cinna and his finest began the ascent up the narrow stairway until they were poised outside the decrepit wooden doorway.

It gave way at just one shoulder barge and a well aimed kick. In moments the tiny anteroom was swarming with men, swords drawn, eager for the anticipated bloodshed....