The wine was not having the desired effect. The more he drank, the more he felt the heat in his blood and that insistent drumbeat in his brain. His eyes recalled the nomad woman with her dark, almond eyes and body smooth and undulating as a desert sand dune. The rattle of her bangles and the rhythmic stamping of her feet still rang out in his ears. He could almost smell the night breeze that had floated on the still air into their rooms: the burning flesh of a goat being turned over flames, the spicy aromas of incense rising from the pipes being smoked. Then there was that particular odour, the scent of Africa: a unique blend of dirt, sweat, refuse, pungent flowers and rich oily perfumes, strange fruits and even stranger foodstuffs, brought from the gods knew where in the far corners of the earth. All these strong triggers filled his senses even as his inner mind saw nothing but Aurelia moving ever closer, tempting him to delights he hardly dared imagine.

Her hair had been a golden aura that flamed around her beautiful face, as if Venus herself had touched it with some immortal fire and singled her above all women. She truly was Aurelia, the golden one. There had been a slight sheen of perspiration on her body, making her skin even more shiny and silky than usual and enhancing her natural fragrance. His heightened state of arousal had sensed her womanly aroma. He had been drawn to it as any male of the species would be to the female on heat. And Aurelia's body had been on heat, calling to him in every movement and gesture she made, in her eyes and her languid posture. Every curve and plane of her body had attracted his hungry eyes, his hands itching to feel and touch, to cover her and take what he craved most. To drink his fill from the well of her beauty. It was the driving force of both their natures, he could not deny that.

But nature was not the same as right, whatever most men seemed to think when their lust was raised.

Maximus was a civilized man, not an animal. The girl he loved was innocent - even if she was unconsciously flaunting herself before him. Had he done the right thing in walking out? He knew from her cry as he had slammed the door that his abrupt desertion had upset her. Why was he so reluctant to make her his own? What possible benefit to either of them was this so-called integrity of his? They had already broken the most sacred of social conventions and would be regarded as scandalous dissolutes for what they had done in running away together. As if anyone would imagine that Aurelia was still a pure maiden after that! Not that the opinion of others swayed him. As long as the two of them knew the truth then it did not matter what the world thought.

If it were only that simple! He sighed to himself, trying to examine what his motives were in all this. His heart told him he had fallen in love but there was that ever-present gnawing doubt that still assailed him. Was he chasing an elusive dream of his youth? Was this just another stage in his grieving, the time when he tried to grasp any other source of comfort merely to bury the dead even more deeply in the earth?

He knew he had been right to take her from the court, but did he have the right to be her man? Shouldn't he keep her safe until she found love with a more suitable boy her own age? Whatever Aurelia felt for him now - was it true love on her part? She had never known any men - or boys - before and he had appeared from nowhere like a saviour to her. Was it more likely to be hero worship, sexual curiosity or a symptom of her age and fragility to latch onto the man who seemed there at the appropriate time to take care of her?

He did not dare make a mistake in this. For if he did and one day Aurelia regretted her hasty decision, regarding it then just as girlish infatuation- how in the heavens would he cope with that? How many times could any man lose love?

His thoughts swirled, confused and melancholic as the wine reached his system. Sometimes when he was with her, it seemed so easy. He had found himself slipping into the role of teasing lover, but at others he had felt inhibited by her youth and birth. But there was more to it than that. He knew that the vow he had made to his wife as he had taken down her burnt and broken body for burial was affecting him. How did he even dare contemplate love and laughter with another woman when his beloved family had been s brutally cut down before their time? It seemed like an insult to their memory.

Just then, as if some spirit from the grave was answering his desperate questions, a flash of an image drove away all the vestiges of the earlier scene. It was so swift that his eyes could not properly interpret the vision other than that it was soaked in blood and screams and pain. His hand reached out as if to clear a murky window to reveal the scene more clearly. Once before he had had an experience like this. At the end of his strength, feverish with an infected wound and worn out from days in the saddle. It had been a message of foreboding, an image of what was happening far away. The death of his family.

Clarity flooded through his wine-soaked brain, sobering him up almost immediately. They were alone. He had left Aurelia and Verilia alone! His gaze alighted on the people in the tavern. Many were surreptitiously watching him. Was it because he was a stranger or because of the odd way he had behaved - or were there enemies all around them closing in? Clattering from his seat with such force he knocked over the table, he lurched over to the exit and ran wildly in the direction of their apartment. It would be too late. He had deserted them and opened them up to danger. They would die and it would be his fault. It could not happen again. It could not happen again.

Half out of his mind, he ran wildly along the now quiet streets on silent feet, his instinctive military expertise guiding him in caution even in the midst of his desperate panic. Slipping round corners, ducking down alleyways, hiding in dark shadows from possible witnesses, passing like a ghost through the maze-like lanes, so narrow that one building's overhang almost touched the one opposite, he made his way swiftly back to the square.

It was in silence now, not a soul about, all sound suppressed in an unnatural calm. That alone spelt a warning to him. Nothing is ever so still unless danger is near. Maximus stopped, listened, watched, pressed himself against the wall - and waited. No people, the fire smouldering, not even a dog or cat scavenging the leavings.  Something was wrong.

His eyes became accustomed to the gloom. What had appeared to be an empty plot of ground was nothing of the sort. Shadows flitted between entrances across from him; there was a guard slunk back into the doorway to his building. The cold seep of fear clutched his heart. How had he let it come to this? How had they been taken so easily?

But Maximus was a veteran of many disasters as well as victories. Nothing was ever over until the last blow was thrust. Perhaps there was still something he could salvage from this calamity. They must have expected him to be with the women. There was some element of surprise still in his favour.

Looking skywards, he checked out the flat roofs of the buildings for a possible alternative route to their apartment. Retracing his steps down the alley he was in, he found a high wall, hauled himself upon it and then began the slow and precarious climb, searching for footholds and thanking the gods for old poorly maintained buildings where there were many holes and crannies he could use. Several times a fall of debris from a crumbling stucco wall or his own weight causing his purchase to slip made him cling to where he was, scarcely breathing for fear of adding to the chance that he had alerted the men in the square. This was a precarious situation - the climb was treacherous, there must be no noise or they would be onto him and if they had any sense, the soldiers would have already checked out the roof and be waiting for him. He clung to the wall and asked the Mother to guide his path ahead. Surely this was not her plan for them all?

But after anxious moments when no sound of feet approaching came, Maximus began again to work his way towards the roof, ten or twelve storeys above. Dragging himself at last over a parapet, he lay on his back and caught his breath. He could hear the distant thud and raised voices coming from the other side of the square. He imagined they had entered the apartment. Muffled screams reached his ears. Jumping to his feet, he began to run desperately across the rooftops, leaping gaps that plunged down to the cobblestones far below, crouching and rolling, weaving from shadow to shadow, praying that the night remained cloudy and the moon was not about to reveal his position.

When he was all but a few steps away from their roof, he heard a harrowing scream, the sound of a soul in torment. He knew this was a death knell. It was a woman's shrill wail as she breathed her last.

Aurelia had not fallen asleep but had merely pretended to do so. As much as she valued the old woman's company and concern, tonight it was not an aged servant whom she desired in her bed but a virile man in his prime. If Maximus was not with her, then she would rather be left alone to her thoughts.

In her mind she revisited all the times they had spent together of late when she had felt that Maximus had dropped his stern guard of formality and shown her glimpses of the man he really was, the friend and lover that she so wished to know better. There had been kisses, heart-stopping kisses, and caresses and tender words and sweet conversations. The word 'love' had been mentioned - he did not seem to shy away from it as some men did, or so she had been told - and he had promised her a time to come when he would be a man for her. From time to time he had teased her, made saucy comments, even been a little lewd in his behaviour, laughing and grinning like any young buck when he makes his girl blush.

She was sure her instinct was right. Maximus wanted her and was fighting the desire to make passionate love to her for some reason of his own. Verilia was probably correct in her assumption that he was the kind of honourable man who would prefer marriage and be uncomfortable with the idea of them living together in shame. And yet, surely he knew, as she did, that their chances of any real future when they might have the luxury of nuptials and a proper life were slim. Aurelia did not expect that they would escape the ubiquitous grasping clutches of the imperial authority for long. She knew most likely they would both be dead and gone by this time next year. The thought did not give her comfort, scared her mightily, but it seemed to her that her decision to live each day as it comes was all they could do in the circumstances.

At least let them both know happiness together before they were dragged apart forever!

Her emotional state, fed by her girlish taste for melodrama,  made her weep for what he was denying them both, creating some great Roman epic like those tales of Livy where young virgins died still intact rather than give themselves to the villain who would try to rape them, or ruin their family names and disgrace their fathers and brothers. She imagined Maximus would sit well in such a legend, preferring celibacy to the thought of taking the innocence of a maiden - even if she was crying out for him to use her!

Dabbing at her tears, restless in the heat of the night, Aurelia threw back the blanket and went to the window for air. There were still a few lovers left lounging about in the dying flames of the fire and she watched the erotic love games, enlarged like shadow play on the walls about as young men lay on their willing girls and the dance of sex mimicked the undulating rhythms of the earlier performance.

She couldn't quite see from the narrow window, and so she tiptoed out to the small staircase that led to the flat roof. From that better vantage, she watched pruriently, not able to make out many details, but nevertheless spellbound by the occasional flashes of naked flesh: a well shaped male buttock, rising and falling, the curve of a bare leg around his waist, the guttural groans of men and women deep in passion and the easy laughter of those still chasing it, or lying satiated in the aftermath. Aurelia lay back on the cold stones and stared at the night sky, imagining that was Maximus and her, lying naked on the bed downstairs, he thrusting deep inside her, all thought of what was seemly long abandoned.

What would it feel like? Would it be painful? Would there be a lot of blood? How would his manhood look? Would he show her? Her sketchy knowledge tried to make sense of it all but there were some details missing that she could not guess. The other day on the boat, he had playfully drawn her hand to his groin. The swollen member had been large and hard: impossible to imagine that was to fit inside her small body. She slipped her fingers beneath her shift and ran them up her thigh, imagining his large rough hands but knowing they would be gentle on her. Reaching the curly thatch of her soft downy pubic hair, she touched her own sex, felt its wetness, tried to imagine a man's large penis forcing a way through her flesh. A feeling of nausea rose in her; she felt hot and clammy, uncomfortable and vaguely queasy as her fingers roamed.

Then she located the tiny entrance and let her middle finger tentatively enter. The sensation was odd, arousing, loosening - but a finger was a small thing. How could a woman take pleasure from the thrust of a solid shaft of throbbing male flesh? But somehow she believed that Maximus would make it good for her. He had said as much when he had whispered, 'One day I will take your body places that it never dreamed possible'. He would not have lied to her. Maximus knew ways to make a woman happy, of that she was convinced.

It was only a small step from this intimate self-examination to pleasuring herself unconsciously. Dreamily imagining what she hoped  would soon happen, she continued to touch her private places and rub faster and faster as her breathing grew ever more shallow and she began to writhe helplessly towards her orgasm.

How long she lay like this, she did not know; she was oblivious to all sights and sounds about her, so far inside her fantasy had this taken her. When she finally came to her senses again, she lay panting, ashamed to be lying half naked, her shift around her waist open to the sky, her fingers wet and sticky with her own essence. Wiping them on the hem as she pulled down her robe, she sat up and looked about her, terrified that there could have been a witness, someone else up on the roof on that hot night, or perhaps watching from a nearby spot.

She scrambled to her knees and peered over the parapet. Where had everyone gone? The fire was doused, the couples disappeared, in a matter of minutes it seemed the place had been deserted. Below was as silent as a graveyard. Had she been asleep? Had she fainted from pleasure? How long had it been? Blushing, even in the dark of the lonely night, she felt even more embarrassed about her behaviour.

And then she saw the shapes. Black, cloaked - and with the occasional flash of metal. Soldiers? Praetorians? 

She clutched at her heart as it lurched almost into her throat. They had been discovered! Even as she had been dreaming, the men had been advancing on their little safe haven, soon to be invaded. What was she to do?

Verilia was down there. Alone. Asleep. She would not have a chance. Maximus was not about - she could not expect him to save them this time. Aurelia hardly gave it a moment's thought. The knife left to her by Maximus was under her pillow in the room below. If she could tiptoe down then she would retrieve it and.....

And? What did she imagine she could do against armed men, a girl alone who had never used a weapon before? There was only one thing she could do. Hide the knife, let them take her, and then when they were distracted, use it to kill them both. A quick slash to the old lady's throat and then into her own heart.

Those animals would not take them alive nor rape her still breathing! And then Maximus would be free. There would be nothing for him to save and he could get away. Alone and unencumbered by women, she knew he would have no difficulty disappearing into the borders of the world, never to be seen again. That thought gave her enough strength to go on with her desperate and horrific decision.

Rising to her feet, she was about to make her way back to the stairs when firm arms grabbed her from behind, a rough hand was clamped on her mouth and she was dragged backwards, her heels trailing helplessly, cut and bruised on the broken stone floor. Aurelia tried to struggle, but this man was strong and her attempts were futile. She was lifted up, thrown over his shoulder and the ground whirled terrifyingly up at her from far below as he jumped lightly over the parapet onto the roof top adjacent, only to continue his crouching run, repeating the action until they were a distance away. Then he began to move away from the square using the crowding tenements that sprawled out in every direction. Through all this, Aurelia tried to work out where he was taking her and why he didn't just kill her and be done with it.

Until finally he set her down and eased the hand from her mouth. "Don't cry out! it's me!"

Maximus.

Aurelia stared almost uncomprehending at first. "Maximus? How did you know?"

He shook away her question. "Later. We have to get away from here...the place is crawling with legionaries and Praetorians...I don't know how they found us so quickly but we've been terribly lax. Our only chance is to flee now while there is still time..."

"Verilia! We cannot abandon her...!" Aurelia gasped, jumping up as if to run back herself and save her.

"NO!" he grabbed at her and dragged her back. "Aurelia! Listen to me...!Verilia...Verilia is dead...she held them back as long as she could. It is because of her sacrifice that we are alive now...do not waste it with foolish acts of reckless bravery!"

"What happened?" The shock was too great for his words to sink in properly. She spoke for something to say not because she really wanted to know.

Maximus took her gently in his arms. "I want you to do something for me. Something very difficult. I want you to forget Verilia for the moment. The time will come when we will grieve for her. But not yet...not yet...! Can you do this for me?"

Aurelia stared up at him, wild-eyed, clutching at his shoulders. "But her body...it must be buried...or rats will eat her....We cannot leave her there to vermin and dogs!" she cried.

Maximus knelt up and pulled Aurelia with him, indicating a place in the distance where she could see a red glow and a pall of dense smoke rising. She could smell burning on the air. "It was all I could do. I lit some dried wood and leaves on the roof and left them to smoulder. These rickety tenements go up in seconds. It will be enough to help her across the river. And provide chaos in the streets for us to make use of. Listen?"

Already she could hear the screams and cries of residents as they fled from the flames and the whistles and shouts of the fire brigade arriving to set up as chain to try as best they could to put out the conflagration. Fire was the worst enemy of the narrow streets of a city. Even Praetorian Guards could not prevent the emergency that would now ensue.

"Maximus! People will lose their homes! They may even die because of what you have done!"

"The guilt lies on those who make it my only course of action," he replied, his lips set in a rigid line and his eyes far away. It was a new aspect to him that she had never witnessed before. His ruthlessness. It could not be denied. For how else does a man rise to become the greatest general of his age - and the most feared gladiator in the Empire? There had to be darker sides to his psyche that would be unleashed at times of danger. Aurelia made no further objections, but bowed her head and let him take her by the hand as they picked their way above the city as far away as they could get from the frantic din of the panic below them.

They descended from the rooftops by a wide staircase that led from a tanning factory to the yard beyond.  On the way, down, Maximus helped himself to some of the garments that were hanging there drying. He took a woman's robe and a heavy length of material, a cloak and a few scarves. These he offered to Aurelia who quickly donned the dress, rolled up her hair and tied a scarf around it carelessly. He tucked in a few stray golden hairs and then threw the cloth over her as a veil before wrapping the cloak round his own shoulders. It would have to do.

No one noticed them as Maximus lifted her on his shoulders and hoisted her over the wall to scramble up after her, jump down and catch her in his arms as she threw herself at him. Taking her by her hand again, they dashed along streets, passing the occasional late night stroller, slaves on errands, drunks staggering home, women still out and about looking for custom, men up to no good prowling around. They kept away from any sounds of life, and moved fast enough not to attract any ne'er-do-wells to try and stop them. But Maximus was conscious that they had been seen and the search for them would be on. They were far too conspicuous: a man and a girl fleeing so late at night would not be quickly forgotten.

"Where are we going to, Maximus?" Aurelia whispered after a long time, when her bare feet were bleeding and sore. She stopped and rubbed at them; he grimaced at the sight, not having even realised her discomfort.

"Here...let me bind your feet with cloths..."

But Aurelia shook her head and pushed him away. "I'll be all right. Maximus... where can we go to get away? They will surely have the gates watched. There is no way out of the city if the guard is alerted..."

He paused and then pointed ahead. "We're not heading for the gates. Leptis has a rather unusual aqueduct. Hadrian built it. It's underground...now, there's an idea, hey?"

"Have you been here before? How do you know that?" Aurelia gasped.

Maximus smiled. "Once, a long a time ago, I had a friend from this town. A boy named Septimius...another young tribune with me. We were both equestrians. Later he was posted to Spain involved in the military administration. We met from time to time. He was a guest at my wedding...how things change, hey?"

"Septimius Severus? Quintus' rival? You know him? Why don't you go to him? He would welcome you in and we might be safe..."

Maximus laughed wryly. "You think so? I'm afraid that the only welcoming committee I could expect now from my old pal would be a knife between the ribs. Severus has no time for old friends. To him I am just another rival now. He was already at odds with me in Germania years ago. He resented my promotion..."

Aurelia sat back on a low wall and shook her head. "Is it all about the pursuit of vainglory and power? Does no one ever do anything because it is right? Remember the heroes of old? What happened to me like Horatius and Cincinnattus?" She exclaimed in frustration at the knowledge of the brutal reality of the political world into which she had been born.

Maximus took her hands and gently massaged it between his. "I tried to. Even if I failed..."

At that she looked up at his eyes, glassy and pale in the thin light of the stars. Her heart sank, realising how she had simply thrown him in with all these other power-crazed men - and how unjust that was in the light of how he had always tried to conduct himself.

"Oh, Maximus...forgive me...I wasn't trying to imply that you were one of those kind of men..."

He shrugged. "Perhaps I was. I am no longer quite sure what drove me all those years. I told myself it was honour and duty, but I can't pretend that I am not as inclined as the next man to the pursuit of victory and the raising high of my name...we are all weak men underneath, arrogant in our self belief. Well, I learnt one lesson for sure. Any man can rise - and any man can fall just as easily. It matters not one jot who you are. The gods make fools of our pitiful hubris..."

"You served my grandfather! You served the Empire!" Aurelia would not let him say such things about himself. "You are not just any man...!"

"I became rich and the most powerful general in the entire army. And I enjoyed my success. I even dared to turn my back on an emperor in my pridefulness...and destroyed everything I loved in life. I am not such a hero as you think, Lia. Just a man. Flawed and lonely. Tired and broken. But at least I have learnt my lesson. I will not make the same mistakes again..."

"Oh Maxime...!" Aurelia slipped her arms about his neck and he held her for a moment. Not alone any more, he thought to himself. I have a defender now who would fight like a tigress to preserve my good name. Suddenly the doubts of earlier in the night fell away from him. Life had thrown them together like two ships tossed together in a storm. If the gods had meant to bring him down - then by the same token the gods had conspired to bring her to him. Whatever would be revealed as their destiny then it was bound inexorably together now - and he would not waste more time in questioning the future. If they survived this night then he would take it as a sign. They were meant to be one.

"Come..." he raised her gently and then smiled. "Do you know where you are sitting?" Aurelia looked behind her, frowned a little, then burst into a peal of laughter.

"A latrine?" she giggled as she realised that what she had taken in the dark for a low wall had in fact been the bench of a latrine block set in stone at the side of the way. She could now see the key-shaped holes  of the seats at intervals all along the stone parapet.

She jumped up and brushed herself down. "Everywhere is so smelly I just never thought...!" she gasped. He shook his head as he smiled.

"Public latrines...very public..." And pulled her back onto the street. "We cannot delay. The aqueduct in Leptis runs underground. It is an engineering wonder. The tunnels are high enough for a man to walk upright and at intervals there are shafts to enable the free flow of air and also allow access to maintenance workers. If we can enter inside the city, then we should be able to make our way a few miles along, then exit well outside the gates...."

"Aren't the aqueducts guarded?" Aurelia asked.

"Assuredly... but it won't be much of a force and there's a bad fire tonight...most of them will be involved on filling the water wagons....come...."

Aurelia was amazed at how everything he had done in what must have been a spur of the moment decision had been planned down to the last detail. The fire had been a stroke of genius: smokescreen for their escape from the tenement, decoy for their entrance to the aqueduct and the only way he could honour their old friend Verilia whose life had been the cost of their survival. She drove away the tears that welled up at the thought of her surrogate mother. The dull ache of sadness and grief lay in her but she knew she had to be strong for now and set it aside. Maximus was right. They would deal with their sorrow later.

The entrance to the aqueduct was set in a grand portal in its own structure not far from the great forum. As they approached, hiding in the shadows of a portico, they observed the activity as water wagons were being hauled away and others dragged up for filling from the large conduits operated by the aqueduct workers. The place was abuzz with activity and it was relatively easy to duck around the edges of the men, evade the guard who had been co-opted by the aedile into helping to increase the speed of the pumping before the entire district caught fire.

Pulling her along by the hand, he hurried her through the entrance and down the stone stairs towards the lower level where the tunnels began and into the main specus, the wide channel through where the fresh water flowed. The tunnel was indeed large with a stone clad arch over a solid concrete base; there was a narrow path at either side wide enough to walk single file. Torches flamed at intervals, which made the going easier but also alerted them to the fact that they might meet an attendant, for these lamps would have to be kept lit at all times day and night, not to mention the constant monitoring to ensure a free flow of water and that sediment such as earth and chalk did not build up to cause any obstructions.

Maximus drew his sword and warned her to hug the wall close. The going was treacherous, the path wet and slimy and the water in the channel fast flowing as it poured out into the city pipes and wells. There was a slight incline as they went, not enough to rise steeply but enough to make them always be climbing upwards on the slippery stone. He had his hand ready to grasp her should she lose her purchase; it would be almost impossible not to be dragged under in the current and drown in moments if she plunged in.

Aurelia's bare feet were sore and painful - but at least she found it easier to grip than she would have done with her usual slippers. The dark endless tunnel, lit by the flickering glow of flaming brands was sepulchral and frightening to her. She had never been in an enclosed space and despite the free flow of air, she felt as if her breathing was constricted. The dank smell of mildew and the moss that grew in slimy patches along the walls made her screw up her nose and cough, increasing the sense of stifling her. She knew the tightness in her chest was probably fear but it did not help it to dissipate. She hated this place.

Slowly they made their way forward, Maximus keeping a keen ear out for any noise that might warn of an approach. There were very few hiding places and he knew that he would have to kill to protect them both. He would rather not. If a body was carried out on the torrent with its throat slit or its neck broken, it would not be long before their pursuers realised how the pair had escaped and their advantage would soon be lost. They had no horses, almost no resources, and Aurelia could not be expected to keep going shoeless, exhausted and wracked by grief and fear.

It was difficult to assess their progress. He was afraid to surface too early as it might mean they came to ground too near the city walls. They needed to be in a spot where there would only be a cursory guard if any. He estimated they had walked for a mile, trying to count his stride, aware that he was only taking half steps so counting to two thousand and hoping that approximated the mille passuum of military reckoning for distance.

Then he began to search for the next access door. The first was on the opposite side of the channel; he imagined that they would probably have to carry on for at least another half mile and began to curse himself for not having taking the previous one on their bank some long way back. But they were committed now and he simply pushed her on, even though she was beginning to stagger, stumble and slip more often. "Come on Aurelia, it won't be long now! Just a little way further! You have been so brave already...don't stop now!"

He wished he dared carry her but he knew that even he might fall without the use of both hands and he needed his sword arm free at all times. It pained him to have to drive her like this, but she simply shook herself and pressed on forward again. She was soaked to the bone from the spray, trembling with the cold, her feet were bleeding profusely and her hair was plastered to her head. Yet even in the bedraggled state he thought her the most beautiful thing he had ever set eyes on, maybe more so than ever now, frail and fragile, totally dependent on him for everything. Somehow that was important to him. He needed to be needed. She gave his life a purpose that it had lacked ever since the death of Commodus.

It seemed through the long hard trek that they would never reach their goal, mired in a never-ending labour like some Rhadamanthine punishment in Hades, condemned to wander these watery caverns for eternity. But at last they came upon the wooden archway that signalled the staircase that led to the air duct - and the exit.  The steps were worn and treacherous but together they scrambled up, Aurelia falling several times, scuffing her knees and grazing her palms. But she did not complain.

At ground level, following the cooler blast of fresh breeze, they slipped long a narrow passageway and found themselves at the entrance. A small room hollowed out of the rock contained one guard, sleeping. The man did not stir as they went on past. He never knew how close to death he came that night.

They were in a barren scrub land, semi rocky desert. It was cold as by now the heat of the day had evaporated into the vast sky. Maximus estimated that they were not too far from the sea for he could smell ozone on the breeze. One look at Aurelia told him she was done in and would not be able to walk any further; she was almost at the point of collapse already. He bent down and examined the damage to her bleeding and swollen feet; she winced but did not cry out even though they were in a terrible state, much worse than he had imagined. He could hardly believe she had managed to make the crossing through the aqueduct in such a condition.

Standing up, he lifted her gently into his arms. "I can still walk...I can....I promise..." she muttered but he ignored her futile pleas. They could not stay here or she would freeze at night, cold and wet - he was shivering himself - they had to keep moving and try and make for the sea. There he would look for a boat; they could drift down the coast and she could rest. It was all he had by way of a plan. There was nothing else he could do.

Within moments she had fallen asleep, slumped against him; he eased her unceremoniously over his shoulders, aware that he had to keep himself ready to act should they be discovered, even now. The girl was so exhausted that the uncomfortable position did not wake her and she hung from his shoulder, her legs dangling and her head flopping about. But it was an easier position for him and he could still keep one hand on the hilt of his sword.

He trudged on in the dark desert night, dismissing from his mind any  thoughts of  the discomfort and pain from his aching limbs. How many times in his life had he pushed his body almost past endurance? Cold, wet, hunger, tiredness, injury...he knew he could block them from his mind, turn the suffering outward and use it to feed his determination and resolve. His mind saw only one goal. Get her to safety. As soon as possible. All else was meaningless.

In the dim light of the predawn he crested a ridge and saw the distant sea. Not too far along the beach he came upon a cove and found - the gods be praised!- a simple fishing boat, a low skiff with oars and a rudimentaty sail. Its owner could not be far and might even be about ready to set out for his morning catch. But Maximus did not even pause to think. Gently lowering Aurelia onto a pile of rags and nets in the base, covering her over, he pulled the bark into the water and pushed it out into the waves, splashing through until he felt it catch the current, and then hauling himself over board. Clattering into the belly of the boat, almost losing an oar in the process, he set to rowing his way out of the small cove towards the open sea, then raising the sail to pick up enough wind to take them eastwards and away from Leptis. He felt the draw of the sail and closed his eyes to offer up a prayer to whatever gods had guided his hand that night - and to Neptune to protect them on this unfamiliar territory. He was no sailor. The Mediterranean was precarious. He felt like Odysseus at the mercy of the winds and waters.

But they were safe. For the moment at least.

Vanished without a trace. Cinna paced up and down in the principia of the legionary headquarters in Leptis sunk in the bitter realisation that he had failed when Maximus and the woman had almost been in his grasp. They should not have wasted time on the old hag; it was obvious she was never going to talk. Vital time had been lost questioning her; she had screamed and wailed like a stuffed pig before her heart had given out. Wherever the gladiator and his bitch had been, they must have been alerted by her caterwauling.

He could not help but have a grudging sense of admiration for his enemy. Only a fool would not respect the strategic thinking of a general with the proven record of Maximus Meridius. Cinna shook his head at the beautiful simplicity of the man's counterattack. Fire. The most lethal danger in a crowded city, guaranteed to cause stampedes, panic, confusion - and the opportunity for escape. This time no Roman lives had been lost - he discounted any fatalities that might have resulted from the blaze which had all but destroyed a whole sector of the slums as being hardly important - but Meridius' flight was even more aided by that factor. He had left not a single clue, no pile of bodies, as to his subsequent whereabouts. The trail had gone cold.

How could he have evaded the guards at the gates?  Those on duty were at this moment being interrogated and punished for their serious lapse in security, but Cinna was still not satisfied. Those soldiers had done their job, he was certain of it. The fugitives had never even gone near the gates. That would have been too risky. They would have been bound to have attracted some attention, especially given the rigorous searching that every vehicle and traveller was receiving. The queues to leave were still backed up. Were they still in Leptis Magna holed up somewhere? Did Meridius have contacts who would risk the consequences of being found aiding and abetting the two most wanted people in the empire? It was possible. He was the kind of man to whom others gave allegiance - and the girl was an Aurelian. There might be those whose sympathies lay with the family even here.

But his gut feeling was that they were gone; Maximus would have wanted to put distance between the girl and any danger, he was sure of that. Leaving the large hall, he took the stairs up to the battlements, staring out over the city in one direction, the sea to the north and the plain to the south. Sea was the obvious easier route but the harbour had been swarming with soldiers tonight; no ship or boat had left without a thorough search. A vague idea struck him and he gave it some thought. The Cloaca. It was a possibility that they might have taken the desperate measure of entering the vast sewage drain that gave out into the sea, but that was almost certain death. The fumes would kill anyone, not to mention the likelihood of drowning in a sea of excrement as it poured its filth into the deep waters of the bay. Surely that route was impossible?

Then the answer struck him like a bolt of lightening. How had he not seen it at once? The aqueduct. It had to be the aqueduct - especially the one in Leptis with its underground tunnel that led to the plain beyond the city, well lit and fairly quiet at night. The fire! It all fell into place in Cinna's head and his admiration for the genius of the general rose. Everything had revolved around setting the blaze - even the guards and workers at the aqueduct would have been drawn into the emergency, thus making it easier to slip into the specum...

Cinna ran back down to the principia and called a scribe to bring him a map of the waterway system. It was not hard to work out the likely ducts Maximus had used to exit. What then? If they had surfaced somewhere in the desert outside town, where would he have gone on foot with a young girl in tow? He must have headed back towards the coast; it would be madness to try and cross such terrain without food or supplies. Maximus would know they would be easily ridden down. But nevertheless Cinna summoned a troop of riders and sent them off into the Cyrenica, just in case.

For now he himself intended to get some sleep and set off at dawn, taking a galley and traversing along the coast. He discounted west - too close to home and, if his memory served him correct, too close to the place Maximus had lived as a gladiator. People in the Zucchabar district would know him well. Maximus wanted to go where he was unknown. Where better than eastwards, towards Egypt to lose himself in one of its cosmopolitan cities? Roman presence there was reduced , no military people were generally allowed  without the sort of letters of permission that he was carrying - and Maximus' chances of being recognised would be vastly reduced.

He wondered where he would choose if he were in Maximus' position? Alexandria or maybe even somewhere like Petra would be where he would go if he wished to lose himself in the Empire. With the girl to consider he would have to choose a relatively civilised environment with the amenities she would expect. This woman could not live in some dirt poor village without slaves and luxuries to surround her existence. If Maximus tried to make her his country wife, like the first one, the spoilt Aurelia would soon be making her objections felt.

Sinking into a chair and calling the scribe back to write a letter, Cinna tapped at the map thoughtfully, drank back a goblet of fine wine and began to dictate:

Aemilius Clodius Cinna to Quintus Cornelius Metella, Praetorian Prefect of the City of Rome.

Greetings!

Luck has been with us in our endeavour. Meridius reached Leptis only a matter of hours ahead of us. Our intelligence led us to his lodgings and we were able to apprehend the slave woman who accompanied them. The fugitives had already left the area and are believed to be on their way to Egypt. I proceed there with the praetorian force and send a party of the local garrison into Cyrenaica as an insurance against the possibility that the flight to Egypt is a decoy. It will not be long now before we close in - he is desperate and without any resources.

May I take this opportunity to send my regards to your new wife and wish you both every happiness on this joyous occasion...

Exhaustion had claimed him even though he had intended to stay awake; he must have slumped over the tiller for that is where Aurelia found Maximus when she finally woke in the dawn light. Dragging herself to a sit, amazed to find herself out at sea in a small fishing boat bobbing on the waves, she looked around with a cry of shock - but found she was not alone as it had first appeared. Maximus was half-lying, half-sitting at the other side of the craft in what seemd to be a most uncomfortable position.

She crawled over to him taking one of the rough blankets that had been around her to cover him but her action only woke him up with a jerk. "Aurelia!"

"Shushhhhh...go back to sleep...I was just trying to make you more comfortable..."

But it was too late. Maximus sat up, wiped the sleep from him and ran his hands back through his hair. She thought his pallor looked grey; there were dark rings beneath his eyes. "I need to steer. The gods alone know where we are now..." he muttered hoarsely.

Looking about her, Aurelia saw a terracotta jar lying under a spar; it had a cork in the mouth. She guessed it had to be something they could drink. Reaching over, she grabbed it and handed it over to him. Maximus uncorked, sniffed it cautiously and took a draught. "Wine...not much better than vinegar...but it's all we've got..." he offered her some; she took a small sip, swallowing it with distaste.

"How did we get here?" She asked when he had returned to his task at the tiller.

"I carried you. You all but passed out with exhaustion..."

"Carried me? All that way? How could I have been so useless! I am nothing but a burden to you!" she cried out, frustrated with herself for not having had the strength to keep going and merely adding to his load.

Maximus fell to his knees before her and held her by the arms gently shaking her. "None of that talk! What you bore last night was beyond anything that should ever have been asked of a young woman of gentle birth. I have known men in my command who have had less endurance of hardship!"

Aurelia dismissed his words. She reached out a hand to touch his face. "I worry about you. It's only a short time since you were so ill. You haven't had time to fully recover your reserves..." she argued, unwilling to hear his defence of her.

He laughed wryly. "I have never had time to recover my reserves in all the many injuries my body has received down the years. I am inured to pain and hardship. I know how to dismiss them from my mind..."

"...Nevertheless. I still worry. You are all I have in the world now..."

It was the first reference she had made to the events of the night before and the tragic loss of Verilia. He pulled her into his arms and held her close, rocking her like a little child. She stayed like that for some time. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were wet and ringed with tears. "What happened? Did she suffer? "

Maximus looked away far out to sea before he answered. His eyes glittered with unspoken rage at what he had witnessed. "It was swift. She never knew what was happening...she is at peace now..."

Aurelia did not answer at first but he heard her muffled sob as she hid her face in her hands. He crushed her to his chest, unable to know quite what else to do or say. When she did speak, she raised a hand to his face and stroked it gently. "Thank you for lying to me. Thank you for trying to spare my pain. But you can't lie, can you? That is the only thing you cannot do, my sweet man..."

Her tears came then and for a long time she cried helplessly in his arms. He felt almost moved to tears himself. He had seen little of what the soldiers had done  to Verilia but one look at the bleeding lump of flesh they had left after they had tortured her to death had been enough. She had hung on to give them time. But she had never breathed a word. Brave lady. Yet another soul to weigh on his already burdened conscience.

"I loved her. Do you think she knew that? I was often so awfully disobedient and unkind to her..." Aurelia cried, wringing her hands in her abject sorrow.

Maximus stroked her hair and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "She knew. And she loved you too. No mother could have loved you better. She died for us. We will both honour her all the days of our lives. And I swear that I will make her sacrifice worthwhile, if it is at all possible for me to do so. While there is breath in my body, Aurelia, I will serve you and keep you safe. I will be your mother and your father. I will be your friend and your companion. I will be the champion at your side against all comers. But most of all...I would be your husband and your lover...and never be parted from you in this world..."

He had planned the moment when at last he would be ready to truly make her his own but in his head it had never even remotely resembled this. And yet, in a perverse way, it was the perfect time for them to come together here where every barrier was finally removed. All they had was each other. Who could blame them now for taking comfort in the most elemental of human ways? Out on the sea, loving to the rhythm of a timeless wave, lying on rags and fishing nets in the damp bottom of a humble boat, Maximus showed Aurelia her first taste of love. It simply happened. As such things are meant to be.

The sun shone down on them as they lay wrapped up in each others arms and fell asleep again, satiated by love and at peace for the first time in days.  They were alone, pursued by fast galleys, hunted down like dogs,  abandoned by the world, but fate had given them a precious moment to forget the worries of the world outside and find in themselves all they really needed.

It was not the loss of innocence, but innocence reborn.