It was a deep night, starless and cold, a February wind blowing from the mountains as the party of men wended their weary way along the last mile to turn through the entrance gates of the estate and ride through the welcome poplar-lined path, down to the house in the valley below them.

They had been out for three nights and there had been little rest as they scoured the hills about for the great wolf that had harried so many flocks of late. Finally they had cornered him and the heavy pelt, foul-smelling and rancid, hung over the back of a mule whose nose had been bound with a strong smelling cloth rubbed in pine resin to prevent the animal from shying at the proximity of wolf. The carcass they had left for the carrion in the hills.

Decimus Maximus Meridius never failed to get a thrill whenever he traveled that quiet road off the main highway back onto his own lands again. How many years had he dreamed that route? Years when he had longed to be home from the brutal life of border battles and skirmishes, years when he had longed to be home from the endless responsibility of command and the fate of thousands of men in his hands - not to mention the security of an empire, years when he knew that all he had ever loved was lost to him and that this safe haven was now ravaged and mutilated just as the lands where he had fought. But now as he rode back, saddle-sore and weary, a peace descended upon his heart. Never again would he have to fear what he would find here or arrive with the sure knowledge that he would soon be leaving again. He was home - and a gentle smile broke over his stern features, stubbled with the growth of four days' beard.

In the stables, he slipped from the back of his horse, handed it to a groom and ordered another servant to drag the pelt away from the animals before it startled them. They should soak it in a vat of urine before it was washed and tanned. His orders were quickly carried out as he pulled at the clasp of his cloak and ran for the house. He was accompanied by his son, a tall slender dark-haired boy of about thirteen years old.  A manservant was waiting, sleepy-headed and in his night gown, a blanket thrown over his shoulders for warmth.

"What's it to be, sir? Bath? Food? Wine?"

Maximus stretched his stiff limbs. "Don't trouble yourself with a bath. Just draw a bucket of water and I'll wash myself down outside."

"It's cold, sir!"

Maximus laughed. "It won't kill me! Is there any food to hand? Marcus?"

"I'm too sleepy, father. I'll just take a couple of apples and get my head down!"

His father ruffled up his hair and laughed fondly. "You did well, Marce! I was proud of you. You're a fine huntsman already." They were not just bringing back a dead wolf; but had also taken a few deer. Meat was at a premium at this time of year.

His faithful retainer brought out a hunk of bread and some cold meat along with a jug of wine. He knew Maximus would not require more. "Organize some food and wine for the men who were with me and then send everyone else back to bed. Including yourself. I'm a big boy. I can see to myself."

The older man, Rufius, went to carry out his instructions but then returned to check on his master. Not that Maximus would have used such a term. He called his servant 'my old friend.' There were no slaves on this estate. All had been freed and were paid servants and field workers with accommodation provided. Yet they all referred to Maximus Meridius as their master. It was a title freely chosen and no man deserved it more. The old man found Maximus' head dropping over his supper, almost asleep. He imagined that his master had probably not closed his eyes since he had left home four nights' previously.

Nudging him awake gently, Rufius muttered. "Come on, Maximus, get to bed. Bathe tomorrow..."

Maximus shook sleep from him. "No. I can't go to her like this." He indicated his hands grimy from the trail and his mud-spattered clothes. Rufius could see the smears of blood and wondered how the wolf had died.

Outside in the bitter cold, Maximus stripped and took the pan, ladling the ice cold water over his dirty body, washing away the sweat and filth of days without any means to clean himself. He poured a perfumed citrus oil on his hands and worked off the grime, wishing he could bathe properly and come to his wife as a man should, cleansed and purified, shaved and scented. But passably clean would have to do for tonight. Shivering in the wintry night, he emptied the bucket over himself and shook away the water, gasping at the shock of the cold shower.

As he wiped the water from his eyes, he was aware he was not alone. A towel was handed to him. Looking sharply to his right, he saw his daughter standing there in the shadows. "You should be in bed!" he exclaimed, wrapping the towel round himself in embarrassment.

"I heard the horses. It woke me up. Did you catch it? I would so like to have been there!"

"Yes. Go to bed. And I would prefer if you did not steal up on me naked. It is not seemly for a young woman."

Bella shook her hair petulantly. "I am old enough to be a bride. I'm not embarrassed by a cock!"

"Then you should be. What kind of bride will you make with that crude talk? I doubt your mother even knew the meaning of the word at your age!" Maximus replied curtly.

Bella dropped her head as he walked back inside the house and threw his cloak over himself for warmth. She muttered under her breath when he was out of hearing. "She is not my mother!"

Upstairs, Maximus stopped outside a room from where he could hear the sound of a child crying. Opening the door gently, he raised a finger to his lip as the servant jumped up while nursing the boy. He stepped into the room and turned his back while the woman tied the front of her dress.

"Is he well?" he asked.

"Yes sir," she bowed and answered, clearly in awe of her master, particularly in his half-dressed state. "He woke. His back teeth are cutting. He still likes to drink from the breast when he is fretful."

Maximus stroked the boy's head tenderly. "Wise boy. I thank you for your care of my son. Let him rest now. I will see him in the morning."

The woman nodded and rocked the little boy who smiled shyly at his father from the warm nest of his wet-nurse's arms. 

With a small sigh, Maximus entered his own room, throwing off his cloak and dropping the towel. Walking to the large bed, covered with a beautifully embroidered counterpane thrown over the furs, he stopped to watch his wife sleeping, her hair scattered about the bolster, She was curled up, her hands lying protectively on her swollen belly. If the sight of his land could engender in him such a surge of happiness, words could not describe how her presence felt in his life. She was all he had ever loved and made his whole life possible. Nothing he had ever suffered seemed too great if it were for her and the children she had born him. Except for Bella. His precious daughter, the wild and willful child he had fathered on a slave, the girl who drove him to distraction but also filled his heart with love. And also for Lucius, his unacknowledged son, who was far away and raised by his mother, an emperor's daughter, but still his son and carrying his true line proudly in his heart.

But Serena was the only one who knew his secret heart and what costs his sufferings had taken out on him. He could not imagine revealing himself to any other human being and thanked the gods daily that he had been given back his soul mate, the better part of himself.

Cold again, he gratefully rolled in beside her and lay watching her breathe, wondering what she dreamed. Just then she stirred and her hand moved to where he was. On contact with his solid flesh, she woke suddenly and gasped. Maximus took her arms and held her firmly. "It is I! It is Maximus! Don't be frightened,' he whispered.

Her eyes widened in recognition and then she smiled broadly in delight. "Maxime! You are back! I missed you so much...." She slipped into his arms and they rolled together, legs entwined, to kiss softly. He hitched up her bed gown and ran his hand over her naked belly, feeling the swell beneath his hand where his child was growing.

"How have you been? Not doing too much?" he inquired anxiously. Serena smiled at him and ran her hand over his short cropped hair.

"I am quite well. Stop fussing! This is my fifth pregnancy, Maximus. I know what to expect and I know when things are wrong. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Stop being such an old woman!"

"There is little that scares me quite as much as childbirth, Serena. It is fraught with danger. It is too soon after Aulus' birth - he has only just reached his first year and you are already gravid again. I don't wish for you to bear a child every year. It will wear you out...and we have already lost two children..."

Serena shook him slightly. "Listen to yourself! My first baby was lost almost before the little mite was conceived. Our third was taken by an illness - a healthy boy until the sickness took him. There is nothing to fear, Maxime! I am strong and we will have another child by the high summer, if the gods will it."

He nodded and patted her, his other palm still stretched over her naked belly. He felt the movement and smiled. "The child has quickened?"

"This week past. It is another son, I am sure, for he never stops kicking. Can we two not make a daughter?" Serena lay back and stretched. "But you are right. We must investigate some method to prevent conception when this child is weaned. I do not wish to be a huge fat matron with my body ruined and my teats sagging...you will start to look at the pretty girls about the estate or the whores down at Augustobriga!"

Maximus rolled to his side and took her hand, thrusting it beneath the blanket. "Does that feel like a man who is bored with his woman?" Her fingers closed around his erect cock and she giggled like a girl.

"Maximus! You haven't slept for four days! Surely not!"

"I was thinking of you, madam. Surely you will put me out of my misery so that I may get a decent night's sleep?"

Serena raised her hand to his face and let her fingers glide down the thick stubble. "I can refuse you nothing, my lord. I see your beard is back. Keep it this time - please! As much as I love your face I still find your pelt more amenable to my taste." Her voice purred with a husky sexuality, a voice no man but he had ever heard. It fired him on even more - not that he required much encouragement on any night, let alone when he had returned from the exhilaration of the hunt.

Maximus groaned at her comment and bent to kiss her. She was warm from the blankets and he was still cold; she shivered as his cold flesh pressed against hers so he wrapped them both in the covers as they kissed. He was eager and urgent; it was late night and neither of them was interested in long sessions of mutual pleasure. Tonight they both wanted merely to feel the naked closeness of their mate and savour the erotic pleasure of their delight in their sexuality.

Breaking from the kiss, Maximus tore the gown from his wife with a rough movement and rolled her onto her side, lying behind to rub himself against her soft rump while he enjoyed the ripe, fecund, touch of her engorged body. Her breasts were heavy as he gently kneaded them but they still peaked for him as quickly as they had done when she was a young girl. Letting one hand stray downwards, he caressed the taut skin stretched over her belly. She was mid way through her pregnancy, the child not due for another four months or so, not until the early summer, a blessed time for a child to be born, with all the best of the year still to come. The feel of the tiny foetus rippling beneath her flesh reached some part of him that was both father and lover. This was his child, the fruit of his loins, a memory of another night like this when he had been a man for his woman.

His fingers dropped lower and sank into the thick soft curls below and then to the soft, fleshy wetness. Serena sighed and trembled as he ran his thick fingers down her folds, slipped inside and gave her pleasure while his thumb stroked the swollen bundle of nerves until she quivered and cried out in her coming. He buried his head against her neck, her thick wild hair covering his face; he held her tight as she struggled against the pleasure he gave her. He heard her voice calling out his name and begging him to give himself to her. There was no sound like it in the world, her soft low voice speaking words she would not even admit she knew to anyone else.

Gently releasing her and setting her on the bolster, Maximus sat up and reached for a fur. As he eased his wife into a sitting position on his lap, he wrapped her shoulders and then lifted her to place his cock at her weeping hole. Serena reached her hands and gentled him, helped him to find her centre and then she relaxed as he thrust softly into her, ensuring that he entered bit by bit and that she did not suffer from his eagerness.

Her body tightened about him, she was still sensitive from her orgasm and the pulsing spasm of her warm wet walls bearing down on him made him gasp. Serena laughed softly, recognizing his need and frailty; her fingers entwined in the leather thong around his neck and she pushed harder as he thrust. Lights began to dance before his eyes as she leaned on his shoulders, hair hanging down, swollen body in his arms. He grunted and she squeezed tighter. A crude profanity slipped from his lips; she kissed them with a smile. "I love it when you treat me like a whore..."

She was too wicked. "You are full with child and still you talk of whoring?" He whispered as he licked her ear and suckled on the tiny lobe.

"I am quite shameless. I want to writhe naked on your great cock like a wanton displaying herself in the market place..."

The image, as unwelcome as it might be to him in a real sense, fed his driving passion and he again let out a growl of pleasure. This time he raised his thrusting action and juddered into her until she was weak with desire, slumped upon him and then, only then did he allow himself the joy of release. Shuddering and moaning he came and rocked her back and forth, trembling. Serena stroked his hair tenderly as he came down from his shattering peak.

Lying her down beside him, he curled around her, spent, exhaustion creeping into his bones. They whispered a few words of love to each other but he soon dropped to sleep, snoring softly into her ear.

Serena smiled and wriggled back into the welcome warmth of his big muscular body. She slipped her leg between his and he adjusted in his sleep to make room for her. But she was past sleep now. Alert and wide awake, her baby disturbed and restless after her body's pleasure, she lay there happy enough simply to have him safe and sound back home again and in her bed. She would never quite get over the joy and wonder that he had been returned to her.

Bella was also sleepless. The arrival of the men had disturbed her and she had rushed out to welcome then but, as usual these days, had been largely ignored. It still angered her that her father had merely laughed when she had asked if she could accompany them when they had been setting off. He hadn't even treated her request as if it had been serious!

"Why can't I go? I ride as well as any man and I can shoot a bow deadly straight and throw a knife as well as you. Better than Marcus, yet he goes along!"

Maximus was adjusting his horse's saddle. "You are a girl. Don't talk such nonsense."

"It isn't nonsense! I'm older than Marcus and I'm just as brave. It's not fair! It's just not fair!"

Her father had swung himself into the saddle and signaled to the other men to move out. "It is high time you learnt to be a woman if you are, as you say, so much older and more mature than Marcus. Because try as you might, you will never grow up to be a man - so learn to accept that and try and master what is expected of you in life! And if you question me again in public - or in private - then you may find yourself dealt with in a way that will soon teach you to some manners, lady!" And at that he had ridden off.

Serena had stepped forward and put her arm round her step-daughter. "You must learn to hold your tongue, Bella, or at least to approach your father in a more circumspect fashion...he will not tolerate being spoken to like that by a girl..."

She shook the arm away. "Shut up! I'll bet it was you who put this notion in his head. You hate to see me with him or think that he might love me more than your children. I am his first born - don't forget that!!

As she lay in bed, Bella recalled the site of her father naked washing himself on the step outside. It had shocked her a little to see how unconcerned he was in his nudity and also to realize that he was a man. To her he was her beloved father, the most wonderful man in the world, the brave and noble general who had lived a life as stirring and adventurous as any hero of legend. But on that night, she had seen what other women must see - that he was a glorious specimen of manhood, strong and muscular, scarred and mighty, and between his legs hung the virile flesh that made him what he was.

She had seen naked men before. She had grown up with Marcus and he was still casual about his state of dress before her. There was little privacy on a farm estate anyway; the servants' quarters were simple and many bathed outside. And Bella always looked, eternally curious about male anatomy. But to see her father exposed like that had been a strange and bewildering moment for the young girl. She had never actually thought of him a man as other men; he had been more like a god to her.

Throwing back the sheets, she stepped out of bed and threw a palla around her shoulders. Opening the doors to the upper balcony, she walked out onto the night and shivered in the chill. But somehow she needed to cool her feverish mind and the odd feelings in her body.

Just then she heard a noise and turned her head into the direction it had come from. It was her parents' room. There it was again - a deep groan like someone in pain. Tiptoeing closer, she listened.

"Maxime...Oh Great mother...oh...oh...Maxime...fuck me...fuck me..." Bella's eyes widened at the words she recognised coming from her stepmother's voice. Serena was the most proper woman that she had ever known. She could not believe what she was hearing.

"Serena...you are so wet...your cunt is so wet...touch my cock....aghhhhhhh...."

Father? 

"I love it when you treat me like a whore..."

 "You are full with child and still you talk of whoring?"

"I am quite shameless. I want to writhe naked on your great cock like a wanton displaying herself in the market place..."

Her face red, Bella ran for the shelter of her bedroom and buried her head below the covers. But still she could hear their muttered crudities and the sounds of their sighs and moans. Serena was behaving like a cheap prostitute and her father like some dirty old man. She trembled and wished she could wipe the memory from her brain. She could not believe men and women - decent men and women - spoke to each other like that. But the idea drew her in and she felt a strange languid rush through her body, a heat course through her limbs and an itchy damp sensation between her legs. She tossed and turned, trying to settle but the muffled sounds of pleasure still sounded from the room beyond, carried on the night air.

Serena heard the plaintive wail of her son and eased herself free from her sleeping husband's arms. She could not settle and would not let her little boy cry for her in the night. Normally he slept in her room when Maximus was away but he had been fretful of late, his back teeth cutting, and his wet nurse had taken him. It was easier to let him nuzzle against her nipple when his sleep was disturbed. But Serena was a mother and her child's cry could not be ignored. Wrapping a cloak around her shoulders, she glanced back at her warm sleeping man, sighed regretfully, and tiptoed from the room to the antechamber where Aulus was struggling in the arms of his nurse Sulvia.

Aulus was fifteen months, a sturdy child, more like his father than Marcus, her elder son, with his slender frame and dark Hispanic colouring. Generally her baby was even tempered, a gentle, sweet-natured boy, but he could be willful and stubborn if he had a mind. He was sobbing, crying for his Mama, and would not be quieted nor would he feed upon the proffered nipple, throwing his head back in temper.

"What's all this noise about?" Serena ran to him and the little boy immediately turned and held his arms out, sobbing even more piteously as if to chastise his mother for not being there when he needed her. She picked him up, grimacing at his weight; he seemed to grow more every day, his body solid bone and muscle. Sulvia dragged a stool up for her mistress.

Aulus curled up against his mother's breast and rocked himself against her. "He is wet and soiled!" Serena said.

"He wouldn't let me touch him. I think he had a bad dream..."

"You should have called me earlier..."

"The master is back...I could not..." Sulvia blushed and turned away. 

Serena tutted. 

"You think he would not want his child to be comfortable?"

Sulvia shook her head. "He was taking his pleasure, my lady. I did not dare disturb you then..."

It was Serena's turn to blush as she looked at the older woman who had born many of her own children and kept her milk up year in year out to feed the babies of the gentler ladies of the district. "He arrived back late from the hunt..." Serena said by way of an explanation as she deftly removed his wrappings and the servant cleaned and changed him.

"Late and lusty!" The wet nurse grinned, fastening up the little boy's fresh linens. "What woman could refuse him?" Serena slapped her playfully. "Shame on you, a respectable woman!" They both giggled.

"In your condition, too, mistress. But at least there is one thing for sure. Your husband can only seed you once!" 

A sound at the door, and Serena turned her head. Bella was standing there stony-faced. "I heard him cry. It disturbed my sleep," she muttered.

"His teeth are bothering him. Go back to bed, Bella. It is a cold night." Bella slipped away and Serena wondered why she looked so sour faced. Was there nothing she could say to win this stubborn girl over?

Standing, Serena lifted the sleepy child into her arms. "I will let him sleep with us. Get your rest, Sulvia."

"But the master...?"

"Can move up and make room for his son. He is not a god, Sulvia! Just a man. And one who could sleep on a stone cold floor as easily as a comfortable bed!" She smiled and hugged her darling baby to her, making her way back to their chamber. Aulus recognized where he was going, called out his father's name: "Papa!" and snuggled against his sleeping father. Maximus moved slightly, muttered something and pulled the little boy against his chest. They were both asleep in moments and she slipped into the warm space beside them. Running her hand across her swollen stomach and feeling the ripple of her other baby, she sighed. Her life was perfect, beyond all she had ever dared dream. If only she could now repair her relationship with Bella...

He was woken by a hand on his face. Jerking himself upright, his hand reaching behind the pillow instinctively for the dagger concealed beneath the mattress. But a chuckle of laughter aroused him. The intruder was his baby son, Aulus, who was kneeling by his side, playing with his features. Maximus's broke into a smile at the sight of the little child, the son who still seemed like a miracle to him, born of a wife he had thought long dead, whose tortured body he had thought he had himself once buried.

The child was fair for a Spaniard, considering his mother's dark eyes and jet black hair, betraying his own Gallic maternal ancestry. Aulus had dark blond curls, pale eyes and the stocky frame of the northern European rather than the swarthy litheness of his own people. He reminded Maximus of his uncle, his mother's elder brother, long dead now and only vaguely remembered from his boyhood. It fascinated Maximus how the stamp of ancestor could emerge in a child conceived so many years later, bringing back the image of men that he had himself all but forgotten.

As he played with the little boy, jigging him up and down on his knees and wrapping him up in the blanket, Maximus wondered about the child Serena carried. Boy or girl? It mattered little to him either way but he reflected on the life that was waiting to begin and how it would carry his blood forward into the future, long after he himself had ceased to matter. Then he smiled at his melancholy thoughts. Life was now and to be lived and enjoyed; he had spent too many years at the beck and call of others and waiting for his chance to come. Never again would he risk anything for anyone but his own: this child, his elder brother and sister, his unborn baby, his wife and the dependants on his land. It was enough for any man to call his duty.

Aulus was restless, eager to be up and about; he dragged his father out of bed. Maximus tied a cloth round his loins and threw on a tunic before sweeping the child onto his shoulders and running with him down the stairs to break fast. The boy laughed brightly, his fingers clinging tight to his father's short cropped hair as they went.

Down below he dumped him at the table, leaving him to his nurse, while he helped himself to bread and cheese, drinking milk from a jug freshly filled from the goat. Sitting at the wooden trestle, he smiled as Aulus shook his head and refused to sit still while his nurse fed him some sort of gruel, running around to throw himself against his father's legs. He knew he ought to discipline the boy more sternly but his heart did not allow him. Time enough for the male child to learn the hard lessons of life; for now, let him run about and play.

Serena had woken early, her disturbed night leaving her drained but her bladder full. After bathing, she joined the servants in the kitchen and began to help with the chores - baking, cooking, washing clothes and cleaning. There were no divisions of labour in this household. But the other women made her sit and rest; she looked pale - and they told her to take more care of herself. The master would not countenance her ruining her health like a kitchen maid. With a basket of mending, Serena took a seat on the verandah, wrapped up against the cold, in a sheltered corner where she might feel the wintry sun but stay out of the wind. Dozing a little, she drifted, thinking of Maximus and the love they had made the night before, giggling and blushing to herself at the memory. He was as lusty and earthy as the young man he had been ten years ago; and she herself was as shameless as any young bride.

"Sleeping it off?" Bella's voice addressed her from the doorway.

Serena screwed up her face, unsure what her daughter meant. "Pardon?"

Bella sneered. "It's bad enough that he leaves you with a brat every year without you still offering yourself to him in your condition. You should be ashamed of yourself at your age.  It is disgusting that you let everyone know that he still shares your bed in that way. But I suppose that's the only way you can keep him, isn't it? Play the whore for him."

"What?" Serena gasped. "How dare you speak to me like that! Have some respect. I am your mother!"

The girl tossed back her beautiful hair and laughed cruelly. "My mother? Don't make me laugh. You are not fit to kiss my true mother's feet. He loved her, you know? He married you out of duty but it was my mother that he loved. It was only his sense of duty that kept him loyal to you - but he was never faithful. If she were alive today, he wouldn't look at you!"

Serena opened her mouth to answer but decided against it. What could she say in the face of this ridiculous conviction that Bella had? In a way, Serena could understand the girl's attitude. What she had lost could never be replaced. But there was more to it than that. Despite her public recognition as the daughter of Maximus, she was known to be illegitimate and as such her status to others would never equal that of his other legitimate children. Her father and adoptive mother had never made her feel less than their own child but society was cruel and she was a shrewd girl. Already she was convincing herself that her position was inferior to the others.

But she would not blame her father. Bella worshipped him. So Serena would always be the wicked stepmother, no matter what she said and did.

"Bella, don't be childish! What happens between a man and a woman is private. It is not fitting for you to comment on it..."

"Then keep the noise down. I heard you last night begging him for it. You sounded like the whores that hang around the amphitheatre in Augustobriga hitching up their skirts..."

At that moment Maximus strode out of the house and ran past, greeting his wife and swinging his daughter round playfully as he ran out to the paddock to look at a horse he had been breaking. Bella changed instantly, laughing and running after her father who lifted her up and sat her on the fence while he leapt over it and approached the horse. Serena watched them both shaking her head.

"You ought not to let her talk to you in that way, mistress," Sulvia said as she settled down with Aulus at their feet while the two women busied themselves sewing.

"She is young and at that age when she is angry with everyone. She doesn't know why so she looks for someone to blame. I am a convenient scapegoat," Serena sighed.

"Your husband needs to take his hand to her and give her a good hiding..."

"He would never do that! He would never beat her! It would do no good anyway... she is as fearless as her father himself."

"More's the pity. But I tell you now, mistress, if he knew half of what she said to you, he would not tolerate it and you know it. Nor would Marcus. She makes sure they never overhear her tongue!"

Serena knew the woman was right but also that things would only get worse if Maximus waded in to discipline his daughter. That would just make the tempestuous lady hate her even more.

"You fancy a ride up to the high meadows, Marce? Or have you not woken up yet?" Maximus laughed as his son wandered out of the house chewing on an apple, looking rumpled and sleepy.

"Sure. I'll just go and saddle up..." Marcus shouted and ran in the direction of the stables.

"I'll go and get my horse, should I?" Bella asked eagerly. Maximus looked up at the sky.

"It looks like rain. Stay with your mother - she needs the company." He saw her crestfallen face. "Another day. When the weather is better. I promise you two of us will ride the and you can fill me in with all the gossip from the neighbourhood! No frowning! They say it gives a woman wrinkles..." he teased. Bella choked down her disappointment to be left behind again.

She watched as the man and boy trotted out, chatting easily as they went, feeliing the rising tide of bitterness. He loved his sons more than he loved her. 'I am just a girl who will soon marry and he can be rid of. Only sons count. I am the daughter of a slave woman. I mean nothing to anyone here.' She thought to herself, indulging her tendency to the dramatic and tragic. One thing was clear to her. She had no intention of returning to the house and sewing or playing with her baby brother.

Slipping back inside she put on warm clothing and tied a woolen cloak about her shoulders. When everyone was occupied laughing at some silly behaviour of the baby, she exited through the rear door and ran over the fields to spend the day wandering, climbing up to the higher ground to sit in a favourite spot of hers, out of the wind and alone with her thoughts.

It was cold but she was hardy and did not mind it. Sometimes she just liked to find a quiet spot and scream out loud, shout her name and let out her frustration at the boring life she led. Today was one such day. She had a mind to call on the gods themselves to bring something better than the lot that was left to her now.

Suddenly a noise caught her attention. There was someone else up here in the woods; she could hear the crackle of a fire, smell smoke and the aroma of meat cooking. Cautiously she crept in the direction of the noise until she came to a clearing in the middle of which burned a campfire. A rabbit was roasting on a spit and several other animals were hanging from trees - hares, rabbit and a small deer.

Just as she was considering investigating further, the crack of broken twigs underfoot alerted her to the presence of someone else. A young man strode up whistling tunelessly and throwing down a few smaller animals. He sat down cross-legged and began to skin them skillfully.

Bella observed him. He looked to be about eighteen although he might have been older - his cheeks were stubbled with the beginnings of a beard. The young man was strikingly handsome, his hair golden and worn long and untied, a fashion she had only ever seen on statues. To her girlish eyes he looked like a god, like Apollo himself. He looked up in her direction as if he had sensed her presence and she saw with surprise his eyes. They were like blue sapphires, vivid and clear, almost dazzling her with their ice fire. Bella trembled at his comeliness.

"Who's there?" She heard his voice, gruff and low. He had sprung to his feet and was advancing on her position, a knife now in his grip. "Come out!"

For a moment she hesitated but then she realised that to reveal herself was madness. No matter how handsome he was, he was still a man and she but a maid. Up here far away from the farm, she would have no chance if he chose to have his way with her. Gathering up her skirts, she tiptoed back and then turned and took to her heels, running hell for leather back to the path and the descent to the estate.

He must have known the terrain well, because he skirted round and cut her off. One minute she seemed to be home free and the next she ran almost straight into him, with such force that he staggered back but still held on to her.

"You're a girl?" The young man gasped. Bella pulled herself from his shocked grasp and then shook her head proudly.

"And you are a poacher! This is my father's land. How dare you steal from us!" Even as she said it she could have bitten her tongue. How stupid she was! Now he knew that she was worth holding for ransom, knew what his game was and fully intended to report back to her father.

"You're Maximus' daughter?" He asked in surprise. "Maximus Meridius?"

Bella eyed him warily. "What do you know of my father?" The family did not advertise his story even now. It was unlikely that news would reach Rome from this provincial backwater but it was always possible.

"Not much," the young man shrugged. "Just that he's some big hero. Tough guy. Used to be a general or something..."

"Where do you come from?" Bella asked. "You are not local..." He spoke with a slight accent that she couldn't quite place.

"Here and there," he answered evasively.

"You're a thief," Bella accused.

"No, I'm not. I am a hunter. No man owns nature."

"This is my father's land. All the game on it is his..."

"How much can he eat? I'm sure none of you are starving. It's winter and there are people with very little to eat. I take what is fair and make a little profit. Who is harmed by that? Have you any idea how poor many people are?"

"Then get a job like a decent man. Join the legions. That's a good career..."

The young man grinned. "And spend my life killing people instead of rabbits? Tell me why that is a decent profession?"

Bella sneered. "I need to explain what honour and courage is? You are no Roman!"

"I'm as Roman as you are. We are both descendants of tribes - you won't find a true Latin in a few hundred miles of here, thank the Gods."

His dismissive attitude intrigued her. He didn't seem to care about the things that other people took for granted. She noticed then that he was observing her with his ice blue gaze. "What is your name?" he asked

She pouted but answered: "Bella Meridia."

"Drago. You hungry?" He motioned back in the direction of his fire. "You can eat some of your father's precious rabbit if you like."

She knew it was foolhardy to go back with him. She knew her father would beat her if he found out - before he killed the young man. But in her truculent state of mind, she found herself agreeing and walking back with him through the trees to where he had camped.

Sitting around the welcome warmth of the fire, Drago sliced a strip of cooked meat and handed it to her; she nibbled on it and found it tasted good. "Does your father let you wander so far from the safety of your home?" Drago asked as he wolfed down the food. "It is very dangerous for a girl. I could have been anyone. Do you know what some men would do to a lone girl - a beauty like you?"

He thought her beautiful? Bella was entranced by his words, hardly hearing anything else that he said. "I just wanted to be alone. I needed to think."

"What about?"

Bella shrugged. "Things."

He nodded. "You going to tell your father about me? I'll be long gone by the time you get home."

"Then there's no point, is there?" She replied with a toss of her curls.

He smiled and offered her a swig of wine from a skin he carried. It was strong, not watered as she usually took it. She coughed as she swallowed.

"Too rough for your tastes, hey?" Drago laughed. "It will keep you warm on your walk back." At that he threw the bones of the rabbit away, kicked earth over the fire and began to pack up his catch, thrusting the smaller animals into a soft leather pouch and tying the larger in a stout stick that he carried on his broad shoulders. She looked up at him. He was tall, taller than father, and lean, dressed in dark woolen breeches and a soiled brown tunic, a coarse grey cloak over his shoulders and soft worn buckskin boots.

"I'll go with you as far as the path,' he offered.

"Why?"

"To make sure you are safe."

"Why would you care?" she asked him directly.

He looked at her for a while and she noticed the flicker of something pass across his eyes but did not understand what it was. "...Because not all poor thieves are men without honour and courage, my lady. Nor are all rich and well born men heroes..."

At that he strode ahead and she ran to catch up with him, having to move quickly to stay with his long limbed stride. He did not speak again until they came out of the tree cover and reached the path that wound down the valley to her home. "There...now go home and be a good daughter," Drago teased, a slight smile passing over his handsome features.

"Thank you for the meal," she answered, suddenly wishing this beautiful boy would stay longer with her.

Before she quite knew what had happened he leaned down and stole a kiss, caressing her cheek as his lips touched hers. She whimpered in surprise; he laughed. "The cost of lunch. I am a poor man and can give nothing for free."

Then he turned and sauntered off in the direction of the nearest village, a slight swagger as he went, knowing full well that this lovely girl was rather taken with him. Bella stood stock still, almost petrified with the experience. Her fingers stroked her lips where she could still feel the imprint of his mouth. Never in her life had she felt such a sensation as his retreating form brought to her tender young heart. Drago. What a beautiful name! Was there any man alive to measure up to him?