"Ariadne!" Proximo's voice was tense, unintentionally mimicking the tone of her former master, and the girl shivered as she pinned the final fastening of her dress and spun around. Her father seemed to notice her discomfort, softening his face and words as he spoke again. "We are almost ready to depart. The men need to dismantle your tent."

The girl nodded and ran outside, heading toward the wagon where she knew that her father's quartermaster would be distributing the morning's rations of cheese and bread and, for the master's daughter, a piece of fruit and a spoonful of honey as well. Her eyes drank in the low clouds on the horizon, not quite sure if they wanted to swirl into a storm, or dissolve so that the bright sunshine could come pouring through. They seemed to reflect her own feelings. Today, at last, they would arrive in Rome. The girl didn't know whether to look toward the Capital with excitement or dread.

"You are looking uneasy, my daughter. Did you sleep poorly?" Promixo said, jutting his chin toward the lump of fabric that the slaves were disassembling and packing into bags. He had allowed Ariadne to stay with the Spaniard on the ship, but for the short journey from the coast, surrounded by strangers, he had determined that allowing her to be seen too much in his company was unwise. "It will be better in the city tonight. We will arrive at the Ludus Magnus and you will sleep in a real bed."

Ariadne forced a smile. Her father hugged her, and then guided her to her horse.

"Perhaps you should ride ahead with one of my freemen," he suggested, "There is no reason for you to be slowed by our wagons. The city holds wonders that you have only guessed. Why don't you explore them while you wait for me to arrive?"

The young woman merely shook her head, making her black curls dance. "No, father." She said quietly. "I would prefer to wait."

The man bowed his head in acquiescence, and then turned to oversee the last of their packing. Breaking the camp was a long and complicated ordeal. Ariadne hated it, and wished that they had sailed into Ostia, rather than a more Southern Port, but she understood her father's desire to make a grand entrance- his gladiators unannounced, and not judged by gossip before they appeared in the arena. It was showmanship, and she admired it, even as she mused at the strangeness of fate: that the Goddess would know to take a simple sailor and, by the twist of her wheel, show him his destiny in a gladiator arena.

Finally, it was time to go. Ariadne rode beside her father as they met the Via Appia and made the final turn toward the city. She saw it at last from the crest of a hill, gasping aloud as her eyes drifted over the expanse. It seemed to stretch as far as she could see, a milky sheet of marble white, a sea of snow.

"Isn't it magnificent?" Beside her, Proximo's words were almost reverent. "We will own it, Ariadne, you and I. The first time I entered this city, it was in chains but now...now we return as masters."

She turned her head, wondering what emotions were swirling in his chest. He caught her gaze, and smiled as he anticipated her thoughts. "I feel lucky." He explained.

After a moment's pause, the carts rolled forward again. The horses seemed to sense that they were close to beds of fresh hay and their buckets of oats. They seemed to move more quickly as they cantered down to the city gates. The emperor had granted special permission that the carts bearing the gladiators were permitted to move through the city in the light, but Ariadne and her Father were obliged to dismount their own steeds.

"Numerius will take you to the lodgings."

He pressed a coin in her hand. "You may stop by the marketplace if you like. Buy something pretty." He grinned brightly, the city seeming to have breathed new life into his aging, sun scorched face. "Be home before cena at dusk."

Ariadne nodded her head, then turned to go, but not without turning a gaze toward the wagon. She found Maximus chatting with Haken and Juba. They seemed tense as they looked around. They wondered, as she did, if fortune had luck in mind for them as well...or if the Goddess's purposes were hidden and folded into something else.

Darkness had already fallen on Rome and Maximus was going to retire to his cot when he heard the door open and Ariadne stepped inside the cell. Juba was already sleeping and unconsciously covered his eyes with the blanket to block out the light coming from her lamp.

Ariadne looked at him with a bit of guilt, then turned to Maximus. "I did not want to disturb you, but I wished to say good luck to you for tomorrow."

He smiled gently, but did not tell her how much good luck he would need to be able to do what he wanted to do. His heart was heavy with guilt for he knew she would suffer a lot when he died, and he would have wished to spare her such grief, knowing all too well what it meant to lose your loved ones.  But he could not change the course of his life. His family and his emperor were screaming for revenge and he was going to do everything in his power to give them peace. It was his destiny; he could not change it.

Thus he simply said, "Thank you."

Ariadne lowered her head and played with the leather pendant hanging from his neck. "I would like so much to remain here with you, but I think it is better if you have a whole night of rest." Her tone indicated she was hoping he would contradict her, but he could not.

"Yes, Ariadne, it is so. Tomorrow will be a hard day, and I need to sleep..." 'And concentrate on what I have to do...' He suddenly took her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Please remember I will never forget your gentleness and the comfort you have brought to me," he whispered into her hair, his voice low and urgent.

A shiver ran along her spine and she stepped back to look at him, her eyes confused and a bit scared. "Maximus? Are you all right? Why did you say so? It seemed like a farewell..."

'It was', he thought, 'Tomorrow I will try to kill Commodus and that will be my last action...' But of course he did not say it aloud. Instead he forced a smile and whispered, "I am just very worried about tomorrow. I did not want to scare you."

Ariadne relaxed a bit. "Father says you are the best gladiator he has ever seen and that you don't need to fear anything. You will win."

"Oh well, that reassures me a lot!" He smiled. "Now go to bed Ariadne, I really need to sleep."

She nodded. "You are right. I've kept you awake too much. Goodnight Maximus, may the gods be with you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Ariadne."

They kissed long and hard, with Maximus putting all his feeling into it, and then she was gone, leaving him alone with his hopes of revenge and his many regrets.

Ariadne was pacing back and forth, in the low room of the Colosseum where the gladiators' owners watched the matches and where her father would soon join her after having spoken with Cassius, the editor of the amphitheatre.

The girl was awed by the mighty arena, which looked even bigger from the inside than the outside, by the luxury of the imperial box and by the impressive entourage surrounding Caesar, but her eyes kept returning to the sand ring, where Maximus and his fellow gladiators had just entered, coming to a halt at the centre. Given the noise of the crowd, Ariadne was not able to hear what Cassius was saying, but she almost jumped when the gates of the arena opened and several chariots galloped into the ring, circling her father's men.

In that precise moment, Proximo arrived in the room, a grim expression on his face, and was received by the sarcastic comments of two other men, perhaps the owners of the gladiators fighting on the chariots. "Your men are going to be slaughtered! They don't have a chance!"

Ariadne paled, feeling nauseous, and her father took her chilly hand, squeezing it and saying, "Have faith."  She nodded her head and threw a look at the ring; two men were already lying in the sand, arrows sticking out of their bodies, and she understood she would never be able to watch the entire contest. She was so worried about Maximus she was actually shaking and thus she decided to do as she used to in Zucchabar: she turned her back to the carnage and prayed for Maximus and the other men's safety.

Ariadne did not know how much time had elapsed but suddenly she heard her father laugh and exclaim excitedly, "Look at him! Look at him!"

She took courage in her hands and turned around, just in time to see the last moment of the battle, and watch Maximus, unmistakeable in his black armour, leading his little group to victory. A large, relieved smile appeared on her face, before she and her father exchanged a long embrace of happiness.

However, a few minutes later, Proximo frowned as he saw a group of Praetorians march inside the ring and surround his men, ordering them to drop their weapons.

"What's going on?" asked Ariadne, feeling her tension and nausea return. 

"I don't know- perhaps the emperor wants to meet the Spaniard; after all he put on quite a show..."

"I see." Ariadne returned to look at the arena's centre and soon realized something was very wrong. As her father had predicted, the emperor was indeed speaking with Maximus, but the conversation did not seem to go smoothly. And then the Spaniard turned around, showing his back to Caesar.

"What are you doing, fool?!" hissed Proximo. "Do you want to be killed?" 

By then a shocked silence had fallen on the Colosseum and thus, when Maximus turned around after removing his helmet, his words resounded loud and clear... and angry.

"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius. Commander of the armies of the North, general of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor Marcus Aurelius, father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife, and I will have my vengeance in this life or the next."

Father and daughter exchanged a stunned look. Maximus...a general of the legions! Was it really possible? And why did he talk that way to Caesar? Their eyes returned to the ring where Commodus had ordered his guards to unsheathe their swords. For a long, interminable moment, Ariadne believed she was going to witness Maximus' death, but then the crowd began to chant "LIVE! LIVE! LIVE!" with such vehemence Commodus could not ignore it.

The last thing Ariadne saw before darkness claimed her and she fainted in her father's arms was Caesar giving a thumb up to Maximus and turning around to disappear in the Colosseum hallways.

Maximus was sitting at the table of his cell, trying to relieve his tension. In front of him were several walnut shells and he was moving them around with the tip of the arrow he had picked up in the Colosseum, the same arrow tip he had wanted to plant into Commodus' neck, but could not do so because of the presence of Lucilla's son.

"Spaniard, you have a visitor!" barked a guard, before opening the door, and letting someone slip inside. It was Ariadne. 

She looked very pale and tired, but perhaps it was merely the scarce light of the room that made her look so. As soon as the door closed, the girl ran into his arms and Maximus had barely the time to rise to his feet and catch her. He pressed her to his chest as she sobbed at his neck, completely blind to Juba's presence. "I was so worried about you! I even fainted in the Colosseum."

"Really? And how are you feeling now?" His hands touched her with care as his concerned eyes studied her face.

"I am feeling better, but- Maximus I am so scared about you! I've heard rumours in the corridors...they say the emperor hates you...Is it true? Is it really true you were a general?"

Maximus nodded slowly. "Yes, I was really a general. As for Commodus, yes, he tried to kill me in Germania and I have no doubt he will try again here." His voice was matter of fact: there was no point in denying the truth and it was better to prepare her for the eventuality of his death.

Ariadne bit her lower lip to prevent herself from crying. She had hoped for a reassurance, but she could see there was none coming. "Is-is Caesar responsible for the death of your wife and son too?"  Maximus nodded.

"That's why you want to kill him...the reason for your wanting to stand 'in front of the emperor'...you never wanted freedom...just a chance of revenge, didn't you?" Ariadne said, her eyes wide as all the pieces of the mosaic went in place.

"Yes," Maximus whispered. "I am sorry. I did not want to make you suffer but-" Ariadne silenced him with a finger on his lips.

"Please don't add anything else. I understand." She sniffled aloud and said, "Father did not want for me to come here- he said it is dangerous."

"He is right," Maximus emphasized his words with a gesture of his head. "It is dangerous to stay near me. Promise me you will stay away- you are the only good thing left to me, I cannot risk to see you harmed...or killed as was my wife." He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it reverently.  Tears were streaming down Ariadne's cheeks as she slowly nodded her head.

"Now go," Maximus whispered, his voice shaky.

The girl nodded again and after a long, but still too brief embrace, she went to the door. Just before she left the room, she turned around once again and whispered, "I love you, Maximus. Don't ever forget it."

"I won't."

And then she was gone.

Ariadne rushed along the corridors, not wanting to break down in front of the guards. As soon as she was away from them, hidden by a corner, she stopped and leaned her head against the wall, as the tears she had valiantly fought began to spill from her eyes. Why did life have to be so cruel? And how was she going to live in the next days knowing that the man she loved, the man that had given a meaning to her life was in mortal danger? If only she were able to help him in some way! But how? Here it was not merely a matter of combats between gladiators, here it was a matter of politics and she was only a poor freedwoman- not a grand lady like the one that had just stepped into the corridor. Ariadne frowned at the unexpected sight. Who was she?

Curious, she followed the mysterious woman till she saw her enter an empty cell. Was she one of those matrons who enjoyed the service of the gladiators? She wondered a bit morbidly, only to feel the blood leave her face when she saw two guards escort Maximus to the same cell. From the look on his face he was not happy at all and Ariadne could not decide if she had to be relieved or worried by it. Her stomach twisted and waves of nausea threatened to overcome her once again, so she unwillingly decided to return to her room, all the while thinking about the mysterious woman. Who was she? And more importantly, what did she want from Maximus?

Ariadne settled uneasily into the chair assigned to her in the owners' room in the Colosseum; she had hoped to never return to that place, but the Goddess had not listened to her prayers. She threw an enquiring sidelong glance at her father, who had just arrived from the bowels of the building, his breath hurried as if he had been running to arrive in time to see the beginning of the fight.

"What is the matter?" She asked, trying to keep her tone light as she followed his gaze out over the arena floor.  Proximo didn't answer immediately, making his daughter frown.

"Is something wrong?" She asked quickly, throwing a quick glance at the Imperial Box where Commodus and his friends were settling in. Then she added, "Who is going to fight today? Juba? Haken?"

"Maximus is fighting today." Her father said sternly, refusing to meet her eyes.

Ariadne sputtered, first in shock and then indignation. "But you said that he was finished...that you would grant him his freedom, that...."

Her father's raised hand and hushed voice cut her off. "The Emperor has commanded it."

Ariadne's face was suddenly ashen. "Commanded him to fight?" Her heart was racing. She had assumed, if the Praetorians didn't come to haul her love away in the middle of the night, that they were safe. Surely the Emperor couldn't fear a simple slave? What could the former general possibly do to harm him now? Her father was going to free him! He had told her so two evenings before. He was going to send them both to a small farm he had just purchased in Mauritania and let them slip into obscurity. "Why would he do that?" Ariadne asked, her voice wavering. "You said yourself that there is no gladiator in the sport who could beat him."

"I did say that." Proximo agreed. "But a new gladiator has entered the sport...or should I say, re-entered it."

No explanation was required when, as if on cue, the mysterious challenger appeared in the centre of the arena floor. Ariadne's heart sank. Even at a distance she could make out the feline features of his silver mask.

Tigris. She had heard her former master talk about the 'good old days' when Tigris of Gaul was in the ring. He didn't just kill his opponents, the man had said, he made them suffer...Ariadne tried to push the thoughts away, clenching her hands into small fists at her sides. Maximus could beat him. He WOULD beat him.

A jangle of chains somewhere beneath their box caused her to open her eyes once more. She leaned over the railing to look down. Three slaves were wielding the heavy iron line. It disappeared down one of the trapdoors hidden beneath the sand.

"What are they doing?" She wondered aloud. "That looks like the bindings they use on the lions...but the animal exhibitions were hours ago."

Beside her, Proximo's lips stretched into a thin, tight line. "The animals are not meant to fight each other."

Ariadne opened her mouth to demand an explanation as her eyes skimmed over the arena. She found three other similar groups of slaves holding chains at other points of the arena. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched Maximus walk past them to the centre of the ring.

There was something strange in Tigris' posture as he nodded to his opponent, then turned to salute the Emperor. He seemed almost too careful about where he was standing. She gasped as the final piece fell into place: a story her master had recounted to a guest one drunken night, how during one of Tigris' most memorable matches he had slaughtered four Ethiopians, then fed their severed limbs to tigers chained in the corners of the ring.

"They are going to kill him!" She shrieked, standing up in her seat.   

Proximo made a sign for her to settle into her chair. Of course, that was the point.

"Sit down," he urged her. "Don't draw attention."

"Don't draw attention? Father! It isn't fair! You have to save him!"

"Don't you understand, girl?!" The lanista thundered, the first time he ever did with her, "This is beyond me now- beyond you. Even if I wanted to help him, there is no way for me to intervene."

"You have to do something..." She begged, quivering with unshed tears. She turned her eyes away from the arena, unable to watch even a second of the farce- not only a match, but also an execution. She spun toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Her father asked.

It was too late. She had already disappeared.

Ariadne rushed to the corridors and stairs of the Colosseum, not wanting to hear what was going on in the ring, until she reached the tunnel connecting the arena with the Ludus Magnus. It was underground and the noises of the crowd did not reach her. She stopped to gain back her breath and her mind flew to Maximus, who was now fighting over her head.

Perhaps he is already dead, a small voice threatened, increasing her fear and causing her stomach to rebel. Should she go back? She was torn with indecision. The 'Battle of Carthage' had been agony. All she could think of was how terrible it would be to watch the only man she had loved die like a dog in the arena. But would it be even worse to let him die alone?  A bout of nausea decided for her as she felt herself grow cold and her legs began to shake. There was no way she could now climb back the rows of stairs to the arena...the only thing she could do was go home.  A few minutes later she reached her room and collapsed on the bed, a hand massaging her middle...and the being she was beginning to suspect she was carrying there. Maximus' child.

Ariadne closed her eyes to stop her tears and almost unconsciously her ears focused on the noises coming from the nearby arena; outside her window, the crowd was rumbling, enjoying the spectacle.  In spite of the stifling heat and her aching stomach, Ariadne left her bed to pull the shutters closed, blocking out the taunting cries. He would not die! Her father had sensed luck when he entered the city. All of that luck was tied to this Spanish slave...this general who sought revenge. Surely the Goddess would not leave them now? She wondered, returning to lie down.

The passage of time seemed as stagnant and heavy as the minutes that plodded past. Inactivity was driving the girl mad. She tried to concentrate on counting the tiles composing the mosaic on the pavement, but it was useless.  Perhaps she would read a scroll; she had been taught to write and read in the home of one of her first masters, who had wanted another child to attend the lessons along with his own daughter, and she used all her spare time to improve her skills.  The letters swam before her eyes.  It was of no use. Rolling the scroll carefully, then placing its bucket back upon her bedside table, she gathered her palla. She was going to return to the Colosseum.

Then, as if her moment of decision had been the turning of a cosmic lock, time seemed to move forward again. Down in the courtyard, the gates sprang open as voices called to the servants in the house.

Happy voices.

Forgetting her palla, Ariadne flew to the window, throwing the shutters open once more and leaning out. She looked frantically from face to face.

He was there. Bloody and tired, but he was there.

Maximus had survived.

Maximus was still caressing his wife's and son's figurines with his fingertips when the door of the cell creaked open. Who was disturbing his peace and moment of remembrance? He wondered tiredly, but his annoyance disappeared when he saw Ariadne's small form standing just inside the room. More than ten days had passed since he had seen her in private and he had to admit he had missed her quiet, comforting presence. He had missed her very much. She was not just a lover...she was a friend. He smiled at her, to show he was happy to see her, and the girl moved some steps towards him, her curious brown eyes having already noticed the little wooden carvings in his hands.

"Good evening, Ariadne," he greeted her, raising to his feet and placing the figurines on the table.

"Good evening Maximus, Juba," she answered, turning briefly to his cellmate, before returning to concentrate on him. Maximus looked at her and noticed she seemed very tired, her face pale despite her tan. He remembered her telling him she had fainted during the 'Battle of Carthage' and could not help feeling worried for her.

"Are you all right, Ariadne?" he enquired gently.

"Yes... I am just tired... and so very tense and nervous. I am not able to sleep and my stomach is a bit unsettled..." Ariadne smiled weakly. "But I came to see how you are...I did not see the fight today, but I have been told you were attacked by a tiger.. .Did it hurt you?"

"Just some little scratches on my neck, nothing serious." He reassured her. He could see she wanted to touch him, to look at his wounds by herself, but somehow she was not sure he would welcome her. As if- as if she had sensed Selene's presence in the room. But Maximus was sure his wife would not resent his giving some comfort to a poor, scared girl, and thus he opened his arms and whispered, "Come here."

Ariadne lost no time pressing herself against his chest, burying her face in the hollow of his neck and bursting into tears. "I am so afraid, Maximus. Afraid for you, for father, for me... Father had wanted to free you, but now he is too scared. We live in constant danger... we no longer know who we can trust ... the town is full of Commodus' spies..." She was speaking between sobs, and her small body was shaking so hard, Maximus suspected it was only his embrace that kept her from collapsing. Slowly and carefully he led her to his bed and tried to make her lie down, but she refused to release him, begging him not to leave her, and the only thing he could do was to sit down with her.

As soon as they were on the mattress, she wrapped a leg around his hip, pressing against him even closer. But it was not an erotic invitation, just the desperate gesture of someone needing comfort and reassurance. And Maximus knew he could not deny it to her...nor to himself. He was only a man and the continuous danger and tension he was living in were wearing out his nerves. Even his long years of war had not prepared him for such an existence. On the frontier there had been moments of quietness, when he could lower his guard, but here in Rome it was not possible, because he did not know from where the peril might come; just that very day he had almost refused to eat because he was afraid to be poisoned... He too needed to relax. He needed a long, uninterrupted night of sleep. Badly. Thus he adjusted his body into a more comfortable position, kicked off his sandals, closed his eyes, and fell asleep without even noticing it, lulled by Ariadne's warm and steady breath.

Maximus sat in his cell, his mind lost in thought, as he pondered again and again what he had said to Senator Gracchus and Lucilla. He had told them he was ready to march on Rome at the head of his men, and he fully intended to do so, but he could not help thinking about the danger the civil populace would provide if the fight against the Praetorians broke into the streets. But unfortunately, there was no other way he could kill Commodus without involving his army.

Maximus sighed and looked outside the window. "Give me two days," Senator Gracchus had said, and the former general knew they were going to be the longest two days of his life. To distract himself he let his mind wander, and an image of Ariadne, asleep and so very young, as he had seen her that morning, formed in front of his eyes and brought a smile to his lips. It had felt very good to sleep with her, and he had awoken fresh and well rested as had not happened since his arrival in Rome. For a few moments, while he observed her sleep, he had felt the desire to wake her and make love, but he had quickly discharged the idea. It was not the time and it was not the place.

Perhaps, when and if this nightmare would be ended, there could be a future for them, perhaps... Maximus frowned and stopped his reasoning. It was not good to make projections or to look too far forward into the future. He had to concentrate only on here and now, and prayed everything, from the exchange of money between Gracchus and Proximo to his ride to Ostia went as planned. Nothing else mattered apart from being ready to act; he was so near an accomplishing of his revenge and he could not allow himself to fail another time.

It was late night in the Ludus Magnus, but Proximo's house was in full, if silent activity. He, Ariadne, and his concubine Cassandra were busily and efficiently packing their belongings into travelling bags for their escape to Ostia. They all seemed to know what they had to take with them and what they were going to leave behind, and only their slightly shaking hands betrayed their nervousness. Proximo looked out of the window to the position of the moon. Soon it would be midnight and he, his family, and Maximus would leave Rome, as the Augusta Lucilla, Commodus' sister, had arranged. The lanista was not really sure about why he was doing it, risking his life in such way; he was not completely certain it was the enormous sum of money the Augusta had given to him to buy Maximus and pay him to help in the escape plan. But if it was not for the money, then what was the cause? Was he doing it for his daughter, who had begged him to help Maximus, after the first attempt to set the Spaniard free had failed because Commodus' spies had followed Proximo and caused him not to meet Senator Gracchus' servant and take the money? Or was it because the General's words about Marcus Aurelius had awakened his long buried sense of honour? He did not know, and he was not sure he wanted to discover the reason.

"Have you finished?" he turned to ask his women and they nodded in response.

"Good, it is almost time." He closed the buckles of his bag and put it near the others, checking that their weight was not too much to allow Ariadne and Cassandra to carry them without problem. It was not, and he nodded in approval. Suddenly a loud noise entered the open windows and all heads turned to it...what was it?

Proximo rushed to peer outside and his heart almost skipped a beat when he saw the squad of Praetorians march on their way. They were all fully armoured and followed by some men on horses and they were carrying torches. He understood at once what had happened: the emperor had discovered their plan and sent his guards to arrest or kill them. He looked at the gates of the gladiator school and saw it was safely close...it would have resisted the out slang for some minutes, giving them precious time to escape.

"Quick!" he said to his daughter and concubine, "Pick up your bags and follow me...we will leave through the servants' passage." He moved in that direction but Ariadne blocked his path.

"What about Maximus?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry. 

"I cannot do anything for him...they are almost here."

"You cannot leave him closed down there... They will kill him!" The girl cried, tears spilling from her eyes.

"I am sorry, but I cannot help him," he insisted, picking up his bag.

"Then I will do so." She said resolutely and ran to the hook in the wall where the cell keys where hanging.

Proximo reached her and gripped her arm. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I am going down to open the cells. I won't let the man I love, the father of my child, die in a cage. I will at least give him a chance to save himself."

"The father of your child..." Proximo stared at her wild eyes and she nodded to confirm she was pregnant.

The old man took a deep breath, then took the keys from her hands and said, "I will do it. You and Cassandra will leave at once through the servant passage while I go down and free the men. Go to the temple of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill and wait for me. I will come as soon as I can, all right?"

"All right." Proximo gave Ariadne his bag, which contained their money, gave her a dagger to protect herself and then escorted her and Cassandra to the secret exit.

"Go now," he whispered, kissing his daughter's cheek, "and do not stop till you reach the temple." Then he resolutely closed the door behind them, and returned to the window.

The Praetorians had almost reached the gates. He had little time to act. He quickly stepped down the stairs and exited into the courtyard just when the imperial guards arrived and began to shout at him, "Open up in the name of the Emperor!"

Proximo ignored them and holding the bunch of keys tightly, crossed the compound in long strides and reached the cells.  Maximus' face was pressed against the bars, and his trained eyes were evaluating the situation.

The older man stopped in front of him and said quietly, "Everything is ready. It seems you have won your freedom." He handed the keys to Maximus, who took them and replied with a, "Proximo, are you in danger of becoming a good man?"

"Ahhh!" he answered aloud, but inside himself he thought, 'No, I am not a good man, but I will do anything for my daughter'. Then he resolutely turned around and behind his back heard the doors of the cells slam open, he frantically searched for a way to escape.

Just in that moment the gates of the Ludus Magnus flew open, pulled to the ground by the Praetorians' horses and almost at once the place was full of black clad guards, who blocked the way to Proximo's house. He quickly hid himself behind a column and from that position saw the soldiers lining up in front of the cells and being attacked by his gladiators. His throat constricted as he saw them fighting with their bare hands, protecting themselves with pieces of woods and was amazed by the loyalty Maximus had been able to command. Maximus...where was he?

 Proximo scanned the area and saw a shadow move fast along the walls and then kneel beside some tied horses. He did not doubt for a moment that it was him, but wondered if he would be able to follow his example. The Spaniard was a man in peak physical shape, but Proximo knew his own best days were long past. However he needed to reach Ariadne and Cassandra and that seemed to be the only way out of the compound. Slowly and taking care to stay always covered by the shadows created by the building, he began to move along the walls, throwing frequent glances at the battle raging behind him. He also saw a group of Praetorians running to his house and knew he had to be very quick because they soon would start to search around for him. Finally after what seemed an eternity for him but in reality was only few minutes he reached the stairs at the beginning of the underground tunnel that led just outside the city gates, where Maximus' servant should be waiting with horses. Proximo almost ran down the stairs and along the brick-made passage, wanting to reach Maximus and perhaps ask counsel from him about what to do with Ariadne, but when the tunnel finally came to an end the sound of numerous voices stopped him cold. What's going on?  He peered out and saw a great number of Praetorians surround the area and three of them were dragging away a struggling man.

Maximus! Proximo thought horrified, but he had no time to worry for him too much, because he heard steps come from behind him- the Praetorians had invaded the tunnel. He looked frantically around him for some kind of refuge and found a large bush full of thorns. Not minding the pain, he slipped inside it, covered his white hair with the hem of his cloak and prepared to wait, as he mentally prayed to all the gods he knew to protect his daughter.

Pale, rose-and-yellow tinted beams lengthened over Rome, announcing the new day's arrival. The sun caressed the basilicas, the forums, and the market places, slowly waking the city. When they finally touched the Capitoline Hill, their glare against the shining marble of the columns of the temple of Jupiter caused Ariadne to unconsciously move her head to block them. She had fallen asleep sitting with her back against a recess of the wall, her bag pressed to her chest, her hand gripping the dagger.

The sunbeams continued their advance and soon there was no way Ariadne could avoid them, thus she opened her sleepy eyes and looked around her. Cassandra was near her, she too just awakened from the brief sleep they had got after spending a terrifying night sneaking along the streets of Rome, fearful of Praetorians and thieves and scared by the thought of what had happened in the Ludus Magnus. For a long time they had awaited Proximo's arrival, but in the end tiredness had won over them and they had collapsed.

Ariadne let out a relieved sigh; it seemed that despite the risks they had run, falling asleep practically in the streets, they were both all right, their precious belongings still with them. She and Cassandra enquired briefly about each other's condition, then tried to decide what to do. They were still discussing their options, knowing very well their presence would soon been noticed, when they became aware of a man coming in their direction, moving with great carefulness. Both the women pressed more against the wall and gripped their daggers tighter until, with a sigh of relief, they recognized Proximo's features.

"Father!" exclaimed Ariadne, running to him and hugging him hard. "We were so worried."

Proximo responded to her embrace with warmth, then whispered urgently, "We must go away from here. We need to hide and soon."

"To hide? Why-?" she began to ask, but her words transformed into a gasp when she saw the scratches on his face and arms and his torn clothes. "What happened?"

"The Praetorians broke inside the Ludus Magnus. I tried to use the secret tunnel to reach the gates but when I exited it there were already other guards surrounding the place. I hid in a bush and waited until they went away and then I came here."

"Oh...and...and what about Maximus?" Ariadne asked, dreading the answer but knowing she could not avoid it.

Proximo shook his head. "He was captured, my daughter. I saw him being carried away by the Praetorians." 

"But- but he was still alive, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was, but I don't know for how long... Commodus will certainly want to punish him and the people who plotted against him. I saw many houses burning while I came here, too many to be just a coincidence." Proximo was sad to have to give such news to his child, but he knew that the probability of seeing Maximus alive again was close to none, and he believed Ariadne had to be prepared.

The young woman took the news badly, her face going pale as she began to shake, and the old man feared she was going to faint. His arms surrounded her small form to steady her. "We cannot stay here, darling, they might search for us. We need to find shelter in some inn and keep a low profile for a while."

"Can't we leave the city?" asked Cassandra, approaching them.

"No, the gates are blocked. No one can leave or enter, I checked it before coming here. We are prisoners, at least for the time being."

The little group exchanged a desperate look, then they reached for the bags and began to descend the hill in search of an inn. Luckily they had money, but it was a small consolation for Ariadne, whose mind and heart went to Maximus, and she wondered in desperation if she was ever going to see him again.

Maximus felt his last remaining strength leave his body and collapsed to the Colosseum sand as a fallen tree, without even trying to mitigate the blow in some way.  He stared in front of him, the sun shining on his face, but he felt no warmth. In fact he could almost no longer sense his legs, but he was not worried. Commodus was dead, he had accomplished what he had to do, and now he was free to go, to return to his home and his family.

A figure blocked the sun, and he saw Lucilla kneeling near him. Her face was streaked with tears and he knew they were for him. He was sorry to cause her pain, but at least now her son was safe. He told her so aloud, and she nodded weakly, in an almost imperceptible gesture of gratitude.

"Go to them," she then whispered and Maximus tried to nod, but he was not able to do so, as his eyes closed and his head rolled back on the sand.

In front of his eyes the expanse of his fields stretched as far as the eyes could see. His wife and son were there, but strangely Maximus did not rush to meet them. He walked slowly in the waving wheat, his hands caressing the swollen spikes, but his mind was far away.... He knew there was something he had to do.... that there was someone he had to see, but he could not remember who it was. His steps became slower and slower until they stopped and he remained there, in the middle of the field, not knowing what to do, as far away on the road, his son, who had been running to him, stopped too, a confused look on his young face...

On the Colosseum sands, a man, a white-haired, olive-skinned Greek was working quickly and efficiently to save the great general's life under the concerned eyes of Lucilla and Senator Gracchus. Blood was pouring from a small but highly dangerous wound in the area of his kidneys, but Galen, imperial physician and Marcus Aurelius' trusted friend, was determined to fight with his teeth and nails to save the fallen man his late Caesar had loved so much. It would be an almost desperate task, but the old surgeon had been never put off by a challenge, as difficult as it might have been. 'Where there is life, there is hope' and Galen was not going to leave anything untried to save Maximus' life, because a good man's life is priceless, a gift from the gods and it had to be preserved.

Suddenly Maximus, who had been unconscious until that moment, coughed and moaned, causing the surgeon to smile; his patient had stopped on his journey to the Afterlife, and he seemed decided to help him in his fight...that was good, very good indeed.

"Don't give up, General," he said aloud, before calling for a litter to take Maximus to a more appropriate place, while behind his back Lucilla and Gracchus exchanged hopeful glances.

Maximus' stomach clenched as he saw the gates to the villa he had called home. He wanted to dig his feet into the soft earth, preventing himself from walking around the corner. He knew what he would find there: Selene and Marcus, his home, his possessions. Everything that he had loved and possessed blackened and ruined, blowing limply in the winds of fate.

"I don't want to go." He said to no one in particular. "I cannot go alone."

But still the Gods refused to listen. Even though his feet stayed still, he continued moving forward, inching ever closer to the dreaded sight.

"Wait."

He jumped as a small voice called out behind him. 

He couldn't turn his head, but he felt a tiny hand slide into his own. He ran his calloused fingers over the knuckles, failing to recognize the form... there was something familiar, and yet...

"No!" Maximus groaned in agony as, in spite of the distraction, the scenery continued to rush forward. He was standing in the courtyard now. All around him were fallen stones. The acrid tang of smoke choked the air.

Two bodies were swinging against the sky.

"I can't do this. I can't face this again." He pleaded for mercy.

The fingers tightened their grasp. "Yes you can. We will face it together."

"Maximus. Maximus."

"General Maximus?"

"Maximus!"

The Spaniard fought a sense of disorientation as the scenery around him dissolved into blackness.

"Maximus! Maximus, speak to me. Please!"

There were voices all around him. They were close- and somehow more real than that of the stranger who had held his hand.

"Let him rest, my lady."

My lady? My lady...yes.. one of the voices belonged to a woman...and two men?

The general focused on this conversation.

"Will he live?" The woman asked.

A man answered again. "It is still too soon to tell."

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of footsteps walking away. Intrigued, he turned his head to follow the sound.

"Maximus?" The woman's voice was very near his face. It was high and excited.

The former general opened his eyes, blinking into the light of an oil lamp.

"Maximus!"

It was Lucilla. Why didn't it seem strange to find her sitting beside his bed? Where was he? Was he still a legatus at the Germanic front? Was the princess still his lover?  No. That wasn't it.  He forced himself to remember.

Above him, Lucilla smiled softly. "You were dreaming." She whispered. "You were injured in a fight. You will be better now, the fever is almost gone."

"D-dreaming?" Maximus struggled to speak. His tongue felt swollen and heavy. The words seemed...wrong... somehow.

"Yes. You have been dreaming for days- about your family. I have heard you calling for them."

Dreaming. It was impossible. "I never dream."

Suddenly, Maximus' memories came rushing back. He remembered the arena, Commodus, Marcus and Selene...There was something else. His breath left in a rush as he thought back to a night on the ship that was taking him to Rome, when he had held Proximo's daughter in his arms. "I never dream." He had told her. Ariadne had insisted that, given time, he would.

"When you are ready." She had said.

The Spaniard tried to sit up. He wanted to jump out of his bed, but his muscles screamed in protest, the shattering pain sending him flat back against the mattress.

"Lie still!" Lucilla commanded.

Meekly, and too weak to protest, the former general obeyed. "Ariadne..." he whispered.

"What?" the Empress' face crinkled in displeasure.

"Ariadne..." Maximus turned his blue eyes toward the window. He could see nothing through its slender opening, but he envisioned the city teeming below. Was she safe with her father? Was she even alive? He felt a sense of desperation to be with her. Finally awake, he had no doubt that the hand in the dream had belonged to her.

"What are you talking about?" Lucilla's eyes tried to follow the man's gaze, scanning the frescos on the walls and ceiling, trying to discern if one of the little figures was the princess of yore to whom the patient referred.

"I have to find her..."

"Her?" The look of displeasure on the woman's face was now unmistakable. However, she quickly composed herself. "You are speaking of a girl? A slave, perhaps."

"No. Not a slave." The relief on Lucilla's features was short-lived. "Not anymore." Using the last of his strength, he reached for his old friend's hand. "She is Proximo's daughter...You have to help me find her...please."

Lucilla steadied herself. It was clear that she had wanted this conversation to take a different path. Still, she was Marcus Aurelius' daughter.

She steeled herself, pulling the former general's rough hand against her cheek.

"I will help you, Maximus. I promise."

"Thank you." he whispered, relieved, his eyes closing as sleep came to visit him again.

Time seemed to never pass for the small group living in an inn near the Aventine Hill. They always stayed closed inside their room, and only Cassandra occasionally exited to order their food and pay their rent. She explained to the owner of the place they were merchants awaiting to leave to Ostia and that they did not go out because they were concerned about the health of the youngest member of their party. And it was not a lie. Ariadne was feeling very badly, consumed as she was by worry, and Proximo was very concerned about her and the baby she was carrying. Considering their situation, a miscarriage would be very possible...and very dangerous.

The fifth day after they had taken residence in the tavern, Cassandra returned from her errands with great news: Commodus had been killed, slain by Maximus in the Colosseum!  Both Ariadne and Proximo jumped out from their chairs, and almost ran to the woman, pressing her for more information, but the girl's hopeful expression fell when Cassandra turned to her and whispered softly, "I am sorry, but it seems Maximus was injured very badly and collapsed into the sand. He had been carried to the Imperial Palace, but nobody has been able to tell me if there have been updates about his condition."

Proximo put his arm around his daughter's back. "I am sorry, darling. But that does not mean he is dead. He has survived a very bad infection without after-effects...he is very strong and we must continue to pray to the gods to watch over him."

Ariadne raised tear-filled eyes on him and the old man felt his heart twist. Knowing how important it was to put her mind at rest, he said, "Since Commodus is dead, I think it would be safe enough for me to visit the Forum and see if I am able to get more information about Maximus. I also will need to check if the city gates are still blocked or if we are now free to leave."

"I want to come with you," Ariadne exclaimed with determination, moving to a chair to take her palla.

Proximo opened his mouth to tell it would have been better to wait for him there, but her determined and stubborn expression advised him it would have been only wasted breath.

"All right, let's go, but promise to stay near me."

"Of course." A smile. "Thank you father." And she kissed his cheek.

"Now let's go, we have already wasted enough time," he said gruffly, but his heart was filled with joy.

Proximo and Ariadne were walking along the numerous stands of the Trajan Market, toward the exit. They had chosen to go there instead, rather than to the Forum because the merchants and sellers working there, with their need of fresh merchandises and products, would surely know if the gates of the city were still sealed or not. A rapid look to the half-empty stands and shops made Proximo suspect that access to the city was still blocked, and a resigned-looking wine seller had confirmed it to him. Rome was still inaccessible, its walls guarded by the army, a legion arrived from Ostia.

Maximus' legion? Ariadne wondered as they walked between the stands. It was already mid-afternoon and it was time to return to the inn where Cassandra was waiting for them. The girl's steps were light and energetic, the anxiety and tiredness that had plagued her the past days a distant memory; they had learnt that Maximus had survived his wounds and was recovering. Now Ariadne's mind was concentrated on how she could see her love again, she could hardly go to the imperial palace and knock on the door...Lost in her musing she did not notice her father had stopped until she almost slammed into his back. She shook her head to clear her mind and her heart twisted when she saw the squad of Praetorians that surrounded them.

"Aelius Proximo?" A voice asked.

"Yes?" replied the lanista, seeing no point in denying it, since the man standing in front of him was the Praetorian Prefect in person and they had already met in the Colosseum.

"And this is your daughter, Ariadne?"

"Yes."

"Your presence is requested in the palace. Please follow us."

'Not that we have much choice', Ariadne thought, looking at the guards around them. She pressed against her father, his comforting arm on her shoulders, and began to walk as instructed, all the while wondering about who wanted them in the palace.

Proximo and Ariadne were marched through Rome as far as the Palatine Hill and the majestic Imperial Palace that spread over it. The building was enormous and father and daughter could not help but feel overwhelmed by its size. The Praetorians seemed to know very well where they had to take them, because they did not hesitate a moment to lead them through one of the many gates which opened in front of them, but Ariadne could not help but be surprised when a quick look to the rooms and hallways they were passing, informed her they were not in the public area of the Palace, where meetings and hearings were held, but in the private sector, where the imperial family lived. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen, but she was not in the mood to admire it. For the entire trip the men escorting them had refused to say a single word and her tension had increased with each step they had taken.

The Praetorians suddenly stopped and Proximo and his daughter skidded to a halt in a large hall, from which numerous corridors opened. They looked around as the Prefect exchanged a few words with one of his men guarding the place. The conversation ended, the sentry ran away, while the Prefect returned near Proximo and Ariadne and motioned to the same corridor from where the guard had just disappeared.

"This way," he said. Proximo and Ariadne moved forward, but the soldier reached out a hand, "Only the girl."

Ariadne's scared eyes looked at her father, who nodded to her, "Go."

"Yes, come with me," added the Prefect more gently, "Nothing will happen to you. And nothing will happen to your father. I promise you."

The young woman nodded a bit, reassured and followed the soldier along the corridor, their steps echoing on the marble pavement, until they reached a closed door guarded by two other Praetorians. The sentry who had run away was there too and nodded to his commander, before knocking on the door.

"Come in," said a male voice and Ariadne was invited to enter, to meet a white-haired, white-bearded man she had never seen before. He was very distinguished, sporting the white, red-striped senatorial toga, and a gentle smile was on his lips.

"My lady Ariadne, daughter of Proximo?"

She nodded quickly, surprised by how he had addressed her. Who was he?

"I am Senator Gracchus," he said, bowing his head in salute. 

She nodded again, not knowing what to do in front of such an important person. 

"We have been searching for you and your father for the past two days."

"Oh." Ariadne gathered her courage. "May I ask why, sir?" she dared to say.

"Of course. Someone we both know was very concerned about you."

"Someone we know, sir?"

"General Maximus. He was very worried-"

"Maximus? Is he here?" Ariadne looked around her with urgent, excited eyes, bringing a smile to Gracchus' lips.

"Yes, he is here. He is resting in the room behind my back. Now I will let you go to him, but you must remember he was very seriously wounded and that he must not tire himself too much."

Ariadne nodded hurriedly, already circling the senator to reach the door indicated to her, and barely giving time to him to open it for her.  She found herself in a large, luxurious chamber, with green and pink marble pavement, fresco-covered walls and elegant furniture, but nothing was more beautiful to her eyes than the man lying on the big bed in centre of the room, his back propped up by a pile of cushions. He was pale, with shadows under his eyes and a wild beard, but his eyes were shining with the will to live.

Ariadne approached slowly, conscious of Maximus' gaze resting on her. In the end, when she was near enough he reached out his right hand, and all of her composure left, as she hurried to take it, and kissed it with love.

"Maximus," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "I've been so worried about you. I-I was afraid I would never see you again."

"I, too, feared the same," he murmured, his voice very low, "I was concerned something had happened to you when the Praetorians broke in the Ludus Magnus."  She nodded with her head, her eyes staring at his face as she was mesmerized, her fingers caressing the back of his hand.

Maximus gently freed his arm, but only to pat the mattress. "Come here."  It was an invitation Ariadne had hoped to hear since she had stepped into the room and she practically rushed to respond to it, but controlled her ardour enough not to cause him pain.

She sat on the bed and embraced him, one of her hands slipping beneath his fine linen white shirt to rest just over his heart. Her fingers felt the tight bandage wrapped around his torso, and that made her uncertain of what she could do without hurting him. Maximus sensed her hesitation and his arms came around her, pressing her head against his shoulder, and whispering, "The wound is on my back, and it's already healing."

"That's wonderful... People said you had been injured very badly and I was so afraid I've lost you..."

"No, you haven't, and now you will have to bear with me for a long time...for the rest of your life, if you want." 

Ariadne's heart almost skipped a beat and she raised her head from his shoulder to look at him wide-eyed. Did he really mean what she hoped?

Maximus read her mute question and nodded, "It seems that like your mythological namesake, who gave Theseus a wool yarn to find his way in the Minotaurus Labyrinth, you gave me the help I needed to find again a direction in my life." He took a deep breath to dispel the emotion that was almost choking him, then added, "I dreamed while I was fevered...and I remembered what you told me, about the dreams being a sign of healing..."

Ariadne nodded, urging him to continue.

"You were in my dream, Ariadne...taking my hand and telling me we would face the past...and the future together," Maximus sighed deeply and went on, "I believe I love you... No, that's not right. I know I love you, Ariadne. I thought I would never love again after I found my family killed, but I was wrong; my heart healed...You healed it, and I hope you will agree to become my wife." After that he stopped to regain his breath and waited for her answer.

For long interminable seconds Ariadne was not able to speak, as tears of unchecked happiness ran down her cheeks, then she whispered. "I never thought one day all my dreams would become reality...until now. I have been told that for a slave it is dangerous to wish for impossible things, but even in my darkest hours I dreamed. I dreamed that one day a man would come to save me from my brutal life. And he came; it was my father. Then I dreamed that one day I would meet a man who would give me endless happiness. And I met him: you, Maximus." She smiled and brought one of his hands to her lips, enjoying his rapt expression, as he listened to her. "And then I dreamed one day I would have many children and soon that too will become reality..."

Maximus' eyes widened in surprise and mute inquiry and, at her positive nod, watered with joy. He embraced Ariadne with all his strength, not minding his sore body, murmuring, "My love, my love," over and over again. Then he took her chin and raised her face for a long, deep, loving kiss. Their tongues danced together, teasing them with the delights that would come as soon as his health allowed them. When they separated they were both out of breath and grinning happily. Dizzy with joy, they stared at each other for a long time, letting their eyes speak, until Maximus drew his gaze away to look at the door.

"Is your father here with you?"

"Yes."

He sighed, and returned to look at her, "Then it is better to call him and give him the good news-" Ariadne nodded, but did not rise from the bed, continuing to stare at his lips with hungry eyes.  "-But not yet."

"Exactly. Not yet."

And speaking thus she lowered her head to capture his mouth in another kiss, her father totally forgotten.

EPILOGUE - Trujillo, Hispania.

Aelius Proximo raised the cup to his lips and took a long sip of wine, as his eyes caressed the large expanse of fertile fields surrounding him. For just a few seconds he felt the temptation to wonder how much money that land was worth, but then he pushed that thought away. It was not because of his wealth that he had been happy to see Ariadne married to Maximus. It had been for the happiness the Spaniard gave to her. Her smiling face, shining eyes and glowing skin were more precious to him than all the riches of the empire.

A soft cry attracted his attention and he lowered his eyes to look at the dark-haired, blue-eyed two-year-old boy playing in a patch of sand with his wife Cassandra, under the watchful gaze of a maid, and he smiled. Never, even in his wildest dreams had Proximo imagined one day his grandchild would belong to the senatorial class, because senators were not allowed to marry former slaves. But a special dispensation had been granted to Maximus, along with the restoration of his former status, enabling him to marry Ariadne and claim the boy as his legitimate son. Aelius. Well, the child's real name was Maximus Decimus Meridius Aelius, but Proximo thought of him as Aelius, his little Aelius.

The old man smiled and returned to staring at the horizon, searching for Ariadne and Maximus. When he and Cassandra had arrived from their home in Emerita Augusta to the farm for an unexpected visit, they had been informed by the servants his daughter and her husband were out for a horseback ride, and he hoped they would return soon. Some months had elapsed since the last time he had seen Ariadne, and he wanted to embrace her.

In that instant, a movement near the stream running through the estate attracted his gaze and Proximo narrowed his eyes to have a closer look. It was Ariadne and Maximus. But they were not riding...or at least, they were not riding horses, but each other. Proximo turned his head away, slightly embarrassed, and wondered how Maximus would take the news that despite his age and a long time spent in the desert, his sight was still very good. Proximo admired and respected the former general, but sometimes he felt the urge to tease him, wanting to see his blue eyes flash again with the fire that had animated him in the arena and to feel again that thrill of danger...but then he decided it was better not to force destiny.

The former lanista shook his head, raised his cup in a silent toast to the couple making love near the water, then joined his wife and grandson, deciding to forget everything about gladiatorial games and to concentrate on more joyful ones.