Serena watched him walk away from her, his back held taut and his head proud. His manner pained her. Never before had he turned aside from her. Now of all times, when he was out of his mind with worry for his daughter and faced with men who wanted to kill him, should have been when he let her comfort him but his stubborn pride, his only real failing, was preventing him from doing so.

But Serena knew his dogged stubbornness and his arrogant pride had also been the saving of his life many times. With a casting down of her head, she sent a silent prayer that it would see him through again. If he were to do this alone then at least he would have those twin demons to accompany him.

It was only then that she noticed the young man, Drago, still slumped in an ungainly fashion on Bella's horse. He was watching her intently despite the bruised face with its one good eye. The other was almost closed. As she glanced up at him, he muttered through his swollen lips. "So...you're the wicked stepmother?"

Marcus leapt to his mother's defence, dragging him off the horse and knocking him to the ground; Serena observed the young man's hands were bound. "Leave him be, Marcus. He is bound. It is not manly to attack a defenceless man." Then she extended a hand to Drago and helped him to his feet. "...and you, no doubt are the lusty young scoundrel who has been making free with my daughter?"

Drago gave her a truculent bow.

"Bring him into the kitchen. I shall see to his wounds," she ordered curtly and walked ahead into her home. Marcus ran after her and held back by the arm.

"Get one of the women to do it if you must! Although I don't see why you don't just let him bleed..."

She shook her head. "He is an unwilling guest in our home. It is not seemly to treat him poorly, whatever he has done. Our dignity is his shame." And with that she held up her head and continued as Drago was pushed roughly forward by Rubrius and a few of the other men.

She let them sit him down on a stool and then told them to leave her alone. Marcus refused. Serena gave him a stern gaze and he blushed. "But, mother...he could be dangerous..."

Serena smiled softly. "The man may have no morals but he is not a fool. If he so much as touches a hair of my head, your father will kill him. He knows that. Although it looks as though Maximus has half done the job already...Go...I'll call if I need you."

Marcus stepped out reluctantly but remained standing outside the curtain and waited; he was not going to leave his mother alone with him, whatever she said.

Busying herself pouring water into a bowl and heating a kettle on the charcoal stove, she found some clean cloths and fetched her medicine chest. Drago watched her preparations as intently as before.

"Take off your clothes..."

"What?" Drago asked. "All of them?"

Serena frowned. "Strip to your cloth. If you aren't wearing one, then to your breeches. But don't act shy with me. You may be good at seducing little girls but it would take more man that you to turn the head of a real woman..."

Drago smiled, winced and then smiled again. He liked this woman. She was not what he had expected. Standing up, holding his ribcage gingerly, he pulled off his rough tunic and the loose stained shirt he wore beneath it. It was a while since he had bathed and he was ashamed of his grimy skin.

The unwashed body, however, did not detract from the unexpected beauty of this young man, Serena observed as she watched him undress. Even dirty, bruised and bloody, Drago was like a young god, fair of face with long yellow hair, skin of pale bronze, muscles honed as if by a sculptor's hand, lean and tall with long well shaped legs furred with gold. For a moment Serena stood stunned by the sight of him. Drago merely waited quietly, head hanging down, clad only in a loose loincloth almost falling from his narrow hips, uncovering the scruff above his genitals, the V-shaped muscles temptingly revealed. Serena had no doubt that there were few women who would not have danced to this young man's tune.

It was not all she noticed. That perfect body had been savagely beaten and Drago was obviously in some pain and discomfort, although bearing it bravely. "Did Maximus do this to you?" she gasped, even as she already knew the answer. She might never have seen that aspect of her husband's character, but tales from his days as a soldier - and a gladiator - had made her aware that he was formidable in combat.

But this had been an unarmed boy. And there was nothing noble about the injuries on his torso. His ribs were badly bruised, his legs scuffed and bleeding, one knee misshapen. The way he was slouching and sagging made her suspect his genitals were also bruised and that he was trying hard not to cup them for the sake of her modesty. Drago's face was also swollen, the black eye ringed with a pouch of blood, his cheek cut deep, probably by a knuckle or even a ring; there was dried blood matted in his hair. He had been pummeled, punched and kicked repeatedly.

"No, I fell off my horse," he answered with sullen bravado.

"Sit down!" Serena reprimanded, pretending annoyance to mask her horror that her husband had done this to the boy.  But then, what had she imagined Maximus would do? Saying it and seeing it, however, were two very different matters.

Setting to work, she washed him down and cleaned the blood and grit from his wounds. He did not make a sound as she dabbed an infusion of herbs into any open cuts to sterilize them as best as she could and then dried them, applied a healing salve and binding those that required it. Drago's ribcage she massaged gently with a foul-smelling rub that she knew would numb the area and ease the pain in time. Leaving his face until last, she finally saw to the cuts on his scalp and smoothed back the rumpled and knotted hair. As she stood close, he looked up at her; she was aware how near his lips were to her breast and how she was leaning against him. The look in his eye suggested he had realized the same.

Moving away to cover her confusion, she stirred a cup of herbs that would dull the pain and perhaps give him some sleep; there was little else she could do than that. But most of his wounds seemed superficial; he was hardy for all his apparent prettiness. "Drink this and then get some rest. If you feel better later, I suggest a bath. You stink..."

Drago shrugged in response to hide his shame at her reminder of his unkempt state. "I was not expecting to be visiting grand villas. But, I thank you for your attention. It was far kinder than your husband's...."

Serena interrupted him, unwilling to discuss Maximus' treatment. Whatever her private thoughts, she would not allow this rogue to speak against her husband. "...and this ointment you can take with you. When you are alone, rub it on the swelling on your scrotum. It may alleviate some of the pain and help bring down the worst of it... Forgive me if I leave that task to you..." She gave him a curt but not unkindly nod.

Drago took the salve and inclined his head in thanks; she could see that he was embarrassed - and that surprised her. Perhaps he was not quite so experienced or brazen with women as they had thought? "I did not take Bella, you know? She came to me but I sent her home. That is when they must have seized her..."

"...Why did you bring her home?" Serena queried, unsure whether or not he was to be believed. Drago could easily just be a very persuasive young liar such as would regularly make free with the gullibility of women. "Why should I accept on face value the unlikely story that a man such as you would not take advantage of an innocent girl with a crush on you? Are you so noble that you refuse to take her with you and risk yourself even further by coming to the estate with her? Pardon me, if I find that rather hard to believe..."

Drago laughed coldly. "I care not if you believe me! I simply tell you the truth. Your husband does not believe me either. I didn't ask him to bring me here. I don't why he did. But should he tear me limb from limb, I shall still avow the same thing. I love Bella. I would never do anything to harm her. And if he does not let me go along to rescue her, then I shall follow him like a shadow until he leads me to where she is. I did no wrong - unless love is wrong..."

He spoke softly and without any attempt to impress her. Serena was convinced that he was telling the truth. Any fool could see that - even Maximus, no doubt. Or why would he have let him live and brought him back to their home?

"There is nothing wrong with love..." Serena whispered as she turned to leave the room. "...and Bella may be grateful soon enough for your devotion. Help him bring my daughter back!"

"Mistress?" Drago called. Serena looked back. "She told me that you wanted to get rid of her..."

Serena smiled sadly. "She is just a young girl who has some strange notions in her head. But Bella is as dear to me as the daughter of my body, for she is the fruit of Maximus' loins. How could I not love any child of his? One day, I pray, if she is spared this terrible calamity, may she come to understand that." With that she returned curtly to the matter in hand. "I will send someone to show you where you can sleep. The servant's quarters will have to do..."

"...Servants? Slaves, you mean..." Drago added dryly. But Serena broke in.

"...Servants. There are no slaves on Maximus' lands. You may not have seen the best side of my husband, boy, but I assure you that he is a great man and you will be lucky if you ever grow tall enough to lick his boots..." and with that, she left the kitchen.

Outside on the gloomy corridor lit only by a brazier even on this fine day, she bumped into Marcus. "Show him somewhere to rest. He is badly hurt. Did you see what happened?"

Marcus nodded and dropped his head so that he did not have to let his mother read the confusion in his eyes. Serena pulled him to her and hugged him; the boy sank his head onto her shoulder and wrapped his arms round her waist. He was growing so tall. "Sometimes men have to do the unthinkable," she told her son softly. "That is part of being a man: to know when to act and when to walk away. And remember this, Marcus. Your father would not be alive today had he not carried that beast inside him that he normally restrains. He would never have survived even his first battle - and then where would any of us be?"

Marcus pulled away and looked at her this time, his eyes pained. "I do not know if I can be a man like that. I don't think I can live up to what he is."

Serena smiled and kissed his cheek fondly. "You don't have to. It is not what your father wants for you. Maximus is Maximus. Marcus is Marcus. Each of us has his own path in life and has no one to live up to but himself. Always strive to be the best that Marcus can be. And who knows? You may yet find a man inside you that you never knew existed..."

Maximus had retired to the bathhouse to clean himself and think. The discovery of the actual motivation behind the kidnap of his daughter and its connection to his former life was a double-edged sword. There was no doubt that this suggested she was likely to be as yet unharmed - although rape was a possibility that he tried not to contemplate over much. What could he do about that now? His energies must be devoted to retrieving her alive. A lifetime of war and combat had inured him to the need only to address that which might be changed and not to dwell on the things that were beyond his control. Easy to say when it was your own child whose suffering might be taking place while you lie basking in warm water in the safety of your domain.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to examine the necessary steps he had to take. One thing at a time. Track the men. Find their location. Choose a position of advantage. Devise a plan based on the situation as it stood - flexibility and rapid response were the key and until he knew more about his adversary and the health of his daughter, he must not allow his anger or his desire for revenge to rule his head. Time enough for that should she be dead. Then he would unleash vengeance on these men such as they had never dreamed.

Drago would accompany him. The lad was expendable, knowledgeable in the secret passes of these hills, claimed a stake in wanting to find Bella and was desperate enough to risk all. He did not want to ask that of the men who worked for them, few of whom would be able to adapt to brutality; they were farm workers in the main. He could raise a party of armed men from the local equestrians, all ex-army officers, but if he approached with a war band then Bella would be dead long before they even got close. This challenge had been extended to him and he knew they expected him to come alone if he was to have any chance of saving Bella's life.

A light step alerted him to the presence of someone else in the tepidarium and he opened his eyes. Serena was standing watching him from the archway leading into the room. She looked subdued and pensive. He felt a surge of shame for his earlier behaviour towards his wife; she had not been guilty of anything but trying to save his feelings and handle a stubborn girl who was refusing to accept her authority. But still he did not make her approach easier, merely closing his eyes again and addressing her brusquely. "I have no need of a bath attendant..."

Serena chuffed wryly; Maximus almost smiled. How he loved her mettle! Few people ever stood up to him - but Serena did. If she thought he was wrong she would tell him so in no uncertain terms. "Do not flatter yourself that I wish to go anywhere near your body at the moment, sir. I am here to discuss your plans in this and to ask you why you saw fit to pummel that boy into submission. I have just cleaned his wounds - you acted like a mad dog, Maximus! You should be ashamed of yourself..."

"He has spoiled my daughter! I have the right to flay him alive if I so wish!" He sat up straight, water sloshing over onto the tiled floor and pooling on the elegant mosaic with its scene of bucolic abundance.

"...I think he has done no such thing. I tend to believe his assertion that he might have fallen in love with her but he has not behaved in any unseemly fashion...as such, his offence is nothing more than puppy love, unwise as it may have been..."

"...Is that so? You believe that scum? Are you as hot for a pretty face as my silly headed daughter?" Maximus answered aggressively.

Serena surveyed him coldly."...I shall treat that remark with the contempt it deserves, sir. You can believe what you like. The fact remains your behaviour was lacking in control and served no valid purpose. How would beating him half to death do anything to recover Bella? He might have simply refused to tell you where she was, had he known..."

"...I think not. You underestimate my powers of persuasion," he answered in a condescending voice.

Serena tossed back her head and Maximus saw the young bride he had married with her headstrong spirit and courage. He loved her a little bit more if it was possible even as he gave her the sombre edge of his formidable stare. But serena was not daunted by his expression.

 "Then let me put this another way... I once heard of a man, a young man, so lost in love for a woman far above his station that he risked his own life - and possibly hers - to have his desires. Disregarding his duty to the state and to his emperor, this young man secretly bedded the lady and got her with child. It is a very good thing for him that this young woman's father seemed to be of a more forgiving nature than you, Maximus, for not only did he spare the life of the young man he found naked in his daughter's bed..." And at that she emphasised the words carefully... "... but even raised him high and promoted him well above his expected station. Now, in the light of this...why are you so intolerant of first love in others, Maximus?"

The couple stared at each other. Serena's dark eyes flashed with temper and Maximus' reflected ice as he listened. But his response surprised her. "I am not a great philosopher or a man of wisdom and restraint such as Marcus Aurelius. I am a warrior trained to deal with attack in a wholly different manner..."

"...Then perhaps it is time to learn a new lesson! What is so different about you and Lucilla and this Drago and Bella?"

"He is a nobody!"

"And Maximus Meridius feels he was on a par with the daughter of the empress of Rome? Surely that is tantamount to hubris! In point of fact, Bella, the illegitimate child of a slave and her master is quite a suitable match for a boy such as Drago. You may have raised her with different expectations - for which we all applaud you - but the world will not necessarily see it like that. You, however, were a countryman from the provinces only a few generations away from barbarian. I am ashamed of your self-importance; it makes a mockery of all life has taught you. I never thought you to be a hypocrite!"

Maximus lay his head back against the side of the bath and began to laugh, his eyes crinkling with pleasure at her spirited chastisement. Serena frowned and then found herself smiling grudgingly at his obvious merriment. "By the gods, you should have disputed with Aurelius himself! Spare me the edge of your blade, madam! I have never been spoken to like that in years - even when I was a slave, no man dared address me in such fashion!"

Serena gave him a look. "Then perhaps they should have. You can be insufferably arrogant at times. I am right. You know I am."

"I agree. Of course, I was no better as a young man when it came down to it than any other. As I am sure Marcus is no more rigorous where he pokes his sword when 'love' moves him. Men are men. And fathers generally do not take kindly to the next generation of horny young rogues reminding them of their own selfish lusts. Marcus Aurelius was a man apart. I am not he. He spared me but I had been ready to bare my neck to the blade. I fully deserved it. As does this Drago."

Serena shook her head at his duality; Maximus gestured for her to join him. She perched on the marble rim that surrounded the sunken bath. "This is a pointless argument. You are a man. It is hopeless even to try and reason with you and, as much as I disagree, the fact still remains that Bella is in danger and you are about to go and enter an arena fraught with risk. Maximus, I am scared and I don't wish us to fight. Can we not put this behind us? I will not see you ride out with these words of anger lying between us! Do you really believe that I had conspired against Bella? I love that girl as much as I love you. There was a time when she and Marcus were all I had in the world. Think you that I have changed so much since your return?"

Maximus ran his hands through his hair and sighed deeply. "I know not what I was meaning. My rage at the world somehow was visited on you. I deal poorly with such things. It was ever thus. I have a tendency to petulance - about which my father always used to warn me. Serena...I am heart sore for how I spoke to you. I never really thought you capable of that which I accused you. You were just an easy target to blame. Forgive me! The last thing I wish for is that we should have rash words between us at a time like this. A family needs to rally together not turn inwards on each other in blame."

Serena nodded and extended her hand; he took it and raised it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

"How dangerous is this, Maximus? Whoever these men are, surely they can be no match for you? Can you not take a party of warriors and hunt them down?" He realised then that for all her astuteness, she had no understanding of the real issues. Serena thought him like Hercules, incapable of defeat; the idea that he might be at risk seemed hardly to have crossed her mind. Good. He would keep it that way.

"There is always some danger but these men are naïve fools if they think to injure me. An armed band could provoke them to harm Bella. No, I shall stalk them alone with Drago to bring up my rear..." Maximus rose from the water and Serena wrapped a towel around him, taking another to rub down his back. He stood thoughtfully and let her attend him, accepting the pleasure of her touch almost absentmindedly, so familiar were they with each other.

"...Drago? Can you trust him? He might just run off at the first chance. Better take Marcus or one of the veterans you know..." she muttered as she towelled him off.

"...No. He will not run. Whatever he is, the boy cares for Bella. I intend to make full use of that. Marcus is too young. These men are killers. He would be out of his depth. And I need for him to be here in case these bastards launch some reprisal on my family. I will send for a few men to add to our own defences here. Stay close to the house while I am gone and take no chances..."

Serena felt a frisson of fear at his casual assertion that their lands could possibly be attacked again. Memories of that terrible day still haunted her nightmares but she kept her feelings behind a mask. No doubt Maximus had his fears too and she did not intend to add to them by her own hysteria. Her husband would have all eventualities covered and she would give him whatever quiet support he required to overcome the threat that had followed them back to their peaceful haven. Up to now, she had worried about Marcus and his future in a world where he was half brother to a potential heir to the throne and son to a man once regarded as The Saviour of Rome. Such fears were pointless. Of all people she should know that danger is as like to strike in your own sleepy fields as in any theatre of war or political arena.

She passed him his clean clothes, left folded by one of the servants and he donned them quickly. There was a brusque efficiency about the way he was moving about, as if each carefully executed movement was part of a ritual that geared him up for his endeavour. His thoughts seemed internal and focussed even as he talked with her and gave her calm reassuring answers. Maximus the general was returning.

Striding through the house, he called various people to him, snapping out clear but terse instructions: 'Go to Corellius with this message, saddle up four horses, prepare a pack for three days, open up my armoury and sharpen blades, have Marcus wait for me in my study, get that bastard on his feet and into some clothes...'And all the while he attended to matters, clapping on a leather lorica, belting on a cingula, opened a chest of money and took out some bags which he weighed in his palm before throwing back what he did not need.

Then he picked up a stylus and began to scrawl a note as Marcus stood at his side, his hands behind his back waiting for his instructions. "Ride with this to Favrus over at Alba Tegrita. I want him here with his sons by nightfall. He owes me. The four of you will be the main stay of the security here..."

"...I'm not to go with you? But..." Marcus began to protest.

"...You are to stay here. I need you with your mother and the little ones in case..."

"...In case?"

Marcus's head shot up, alert to the implication hidden in his unfinished sentence. Maximus merely continued with his writing and muttered. "...In case we do not return alive. You are my heir. I cannot risk that the women are left unprotected in that event...Here are the keys to my strong box. Inside are all my papers. Your uncle is executor of my will..."

"Father...what are you saying?" Marcus stood open-mouthed in shock at Maximus' words. Maximus glanced up, grimaced and pinched thoughtfully at his lips as he surveyed his son.

With a sigh, he indicated that the boy should sit by him. "Marcus...I have to know I can rely on you in extremis. It is unlikely that any harm will come to me. But a man must never leave on any journey without making the necessary preparations. Life is unpredictable even at its best. Can I put my trust in you?"

The boy grimaced and paled but straightened his shoulders. "I will do what I must. I will do what you tell me to do, father. I am a dutiful son..."

Maximus smiled and patted his back. "Good. That is what I need to hear. Be strong for your mother. Do not let her see your fear. But, do not be embarrassed to be afraid. Fear is good. Without it, there is no courage. Remember that. And..." At this Maximus took his son's face in his hand and raised it to smile fondly at the boy. "...Should the unthinkable happen and we do not survive this...know that I could have no better son than you. The gods gave us back the chance to know each other as men. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to spend this time with you, my son..."

Marcus swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat. His father's eyes were misty too. "I..." Marcus cleared his throat. "I...will always protect mother and the children...all the household too. I shall carry out my duty as a loyal son of your house. You are the best of fathers. I will honour your name all my days..." He wanted to say other things, childish things, to tell him that he loved him and that he was scared he could never equal him as a man - but that he would do his best. That he would be a good soldier, an honourable man, a faithful husband, a loving father - just as Maximus had taught him to be. But, he kept those sentiments deep in his heart and gave his father the more formal words that he knew would ease his leaving at this time. Men need to bolster each other not scrape at the foundations of their resolve. Time enough when his father returned triumphant with his sister for Marcus to confide his real emotions. And he vowed should his father be spared he would not shirk the telling of them then.

They left as dusk was settling, on a summer evening that was still light even when night came, with that summer glow that never quiet leaves the sky throughout the dark pink night. This time Serena waited for him in the peristyle garden and Maximus slipped out to hold his farewell in secret. She was standing in a patch of dappled moonlight when he walked up to her. "I just saw the children. Aulus sleeps. The girl is restless. You should go to her..."

"You are my priority. Let her wait. Come to me. Let me hold you..."

Maximus stepped close and took her in his arms. She felt the press of buckles and weapons, the harsh reminders that he rode out again to war. "Oh, Maxime...come back to me!" she whispered, unable to retain the Stoic front any longer. He kissed her tenderly and caressed her beautiful face.

"I promise I will return. But if the gods say no, Marcus knows what to do. If this is all we are to have, it was the best of times. Life goes on. You are the guardian of the future in these children. Make us live through them!" His last words were murmured into her ear in a voice that betrayed his own emotional fragility. She did not answer, merely nodding and holding his head in her hands, until he had to extricate himself from her grasp. "I have to go. Be strong!"

Maximus walked away and stopped for one last look. Serena's image, silvery and still, as serene as her name, would remain before his eyes whatever was to come.

"Maximus? I love you...!" He nodded curtly while placing his own right hand on his heart then turning and striding back through his home to where the others waited. Drago was slumped on a horse, his bruises more deeply coloured than before but his expression determined and defiant. Marcus subdued and pensive but already seeming older and more mature, the young boy disappearing in the fortitude of the man he would become. Maximus nodded to his son and mounted, a few last instructions muttered and a hand held up in farewell. Turning to his neighbour, Favrus, he said: "Take care of my family until I return. Do this and Maximus Meridius will be eternally in your debt. I thank you, my friend..."

The two men rode out in the direction of the postern gate and were soon swallowed up into the purple haze of the warm night.

Bella had been snatched so quickly that it had all been over almost before she had time to realize what had happened. A man had blocked her path. As she stopped, someone else had seized her round the waist. A foul liquid was forced into her mouth by someone who held her nose and then clamped her jaw closed forcing her to swallow. Then a sack had been thrown over her head, tied firmly in place, and she had been hoisted up and thrown over a shoulder. No amount of struggling or screaming had any effect; shortly after she felt herself feeling faint and then oblivion claimed her.

It was in a cool dawn that she woke, trussed up like a prize pig, lying on the ground. Her head ached dully and her mouth was dry and bitter as she wriggled to sit up against a tree and ascertain where she was. Around her there were the dark shapes of sleeping men wrapped up in blankets and further off a few guards were patrolling the clearing. Bella was tied at her ankles and her wrists but she did not think she had been harmed in any way. Struggling against her bonds she attempted to loosen them but they had been skillfully done and she only succeeded in pulling them even more taut than ever. One thing she was grateful for. The little knife she carried was still hidden in the hem of her cloak where she always slipped it. Even if she could not retrieve it now, her captors had not found it and perhaps later she might be able to get access to it somehow.

Her captors. Bella began to think about what had taken place. She had no idea what these men wanted from her or why they must have been waiting on that path so near to her father's lands. Despite her fear, she was sensible enough to realize that if they had merely taken a woman out alone for sport, they would not have drugged her, carried her so far or let her sleep - she would have been gagged and raped to death and left in the hills for the wolves, if that had been their sole aim. She didn't imagine for one moment that these men meant her any good - but there was something more to this than sport. Whatever was going on, Bella knew her survival depended on her keeping her head and turning their objective to her advantage if in any way she could.

Shortly afterwards, the men began to stir and move about, helping themselves to watered wine and hunks of bread or relieving themselves against nearby trees. Bella closed her eyes when they openly exposed themselves so close to her. They had so far acted as if she was not there, but she was not fool enough to imagine that they were so unawares of her presence. But she remained still and tried to give an impression of invisibility, unwilling to draw any attention to herself or acknowledge them in anyway.

Some time later, a huge, ugly man staggered up, scratching his gross hairy belly coarsely. He was dressed only in a loose pair of breeches. His body was heavily scarred with slashes and puncture marks and his face was similarly mutilated, giving his unpleasant features a hideous smile which was simply the result of the wide gash that snaked in a curve from his mouth up his right cheek. "So, you're awake?" he grunted and then pulled out his manhood before her, pissing messily around where she sat, like an animal marking his territory. Bella shuddered but found herself compelled to watch the thick fleshy appendage with its one unblinking eye spattering crudely around her.

"Like the look of it, little honey?" he mocked. Bella turned her head away. The man reached over and grabbed at her chin, forcing her face around.

She found herself staring into the foul smelling member at close quarters. 

The man rubbed his organ against her cheek and along the crease of her lips. Bella kept them tightly closed. "All for you. Later. When your Daddy gets here...we wouldn't want him to miss the show, hey?" With that, he pinched her nose hard until she had to open her mouth and gasp for breath, then he stuck the hardening cock into her mouth. Bella tried to pull back and spit but he grabbed the back of her head firm. "Taste it...Watch your teeth, bitch, or I'll pull them all out one by one....Mus...hold her for me...she's a fighter...!"

The man called Mus, a rat-like individual well deserving of his nickname, ran forward and took her by her arms while another man held her head and the gross monster continued to push in and out of her mouth. Bella thought he would choke her as the erect penis rammed her throat. Tears ran down her cheeks and she retched and struggled to breathe. It was such a sudden and unexpected assault that she had no time to really appreciate its foul nature, fighting merely to catch her breath. His unwashed, stale smell was rancid on her tongue, his dirty fingers rough on her chin and when he groaned and spilled his semen into her mouth and then pulled back to let it drip over her cheeks, she was momentarily almost relieved that he had allowed her to take a gulp of air again.

Then the full horror of what he had done dawned on her and she leaned over and vomited to a chorus of the coarse mocking laughter of men. "She didn't like the taste of that, Thraxus!" One shouted.

"..She'll get used to it...there's plenty more where that came from..." he muttered as he wiped himself off on her hair and tucked his member away. Dragging her up to his height, he hissed into her face, his breath as foul as corpses, "That your first time, whore, or have you been sucking on the boyfriend's? Next time I come near, you better be licking your lips or I'll do worse to you than that..." He threw her back down with a terse command. "Keep away from her for now. She's mine to play with. Later you can all have turns. When Daddy turns up..."

Bella crawled away and hid her face in her cloak trying to wipe off the thick strands of his come that still dripped from her face. The sour taste of him seemed to burn down her throat, as foul as the vomit that she lay in. With her hands and legs secured she could not even clean herself properly. Her head was aching even more than ever now from their rough treatment and her brain was still trying to understand what he had done.

That man had stuck his thing in her mouth and spilled his seed all over her face. Bella was not ignorant of sexual practices, having dipped secretly into Ovid and talked to some of the more bold servants - not to mention what her cousins had admitted to doing with their young men whilst still retaining the physical pretence of virginity. She also knew what rape meant and the things such men would do to women to humiliate and demean them. But hearing about it and enduring it were very different matters.

Bella felt almost numb with shock and horror, most particularly at the casual way the man had done it to her as if this was mild compared to what he really intended for her. And she supposed it was. Fear kept her almost catatonic; her mind almost refused to comprehend the full nature of what was taking place. It was hard for her to think. But one thing she knew for sure. This man intended to let them all at her. In any way they wanted.

When her father came.

He had said that twice.

Daddy ...

What was this to do with Maximus?

The two men rode steadily through the balmy summer night, mostly traveling in silence and appearing to pay little attention to each other. The trail of the kidnappers had been easy to pick out for a tracker of Maximus' skill; he inwardly cursed himself, however, for the time he had wasted in his pursuit of Drago and how he had let his anger at the discovery of the relationship between this young man and his daughter blight his common sense. Every day that Bella remained with these men she was put further and further at risk and he had only himself to blame. Thoughts such as these preyed on his mind as he struggled to focus on the matter in hand. For it was of no use to spend time on recriminations now.

The men they were following had made no attempt to cover their tracks. They wanted to be found. Maximus played out in his head the likelihood of his arrival being watched as he let them lead him to whichever battleground that they chose to fight on. It was the foremost lesson of strategy - do not allow your enemy the luxury of choosing the where and the when of an engagement - or they are already in a position of strength.

 But if you have no choice? Then you must take the appearance of disadvantage and turn it by devious use of superior tactics. Or by surprise. Do what your opponent does not expect. Preempt his readiness. Absorb his force and throw it back against him. Undermine his weakness - even at the expense of some of your own strength. Risk all. Consider the alternatives. Never allow your vision to be too fixed in any one direction.  Be alert to the changing tide. Do not be led by conventional theory. Place your trust in the underlying superiority of your forces but never allow overconfidence to blind you to the unexpected. Use dissemination and trickery whenever possible.

This was war, not an athletic contest. There was no place for sportsmanlike behaviour. When armies clash, the rule of law disappears.

"Let's halt!" Maximus reined in his mount and slipped off, watching Drago ease himself more tenderly to the ground. He opened a saddlebag and took out a skin, throwing it over to the younger man who grunted, took a drink and handed it back. "They went up into the foothills..." Maximus began, indicating the hoof marks in the dry dust of the path.

"I know," Drago answered with little expression in his voice or on his face.

"Fancy yourself a tracker, then?" Maximus enquired, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

"...It's what I do," Drago replied. It amused Maximus how little the boy sought to impress him.

"Is that so? Then here is your chance to prove yourself..."

"...I'm not here to prove anything to you. I'm here for Bella..."

"...You're here because I allow you to be here. Nothing more. Up there in the hills, they are waiting. They will have lookouts posted. When I arrive they will expect to be forewarned and will ensure I am alone. I want you first to find a way up that flanks their position. If they see you, it is not so significant; they may well have observed you already in the lowlands. I imagine they may know of your relationship with my daughter and simply suspect that you have taken it upon yourself to find her. I doubt they will think we are working together. Of course, if they apprehend you, they will slit your throat..."

"...What are you asking me to do? Slip past? Get caught so you can use me as a decoy? Just spit it out..."

Maximus considered the boy for a time before speaking. "Find me a secure vantage point from where I can watch their camp and make a reconnaissance. I want you back well before dawn so we can creep past before first light..."

"...And then we make a sudden attack at nightfall?" Drago broke in quickly, the first sign of eagerness or cooperation he had shown since the two men had met.

"...Don't be absurd. We wouldn't stand a chance. I merely want to see who my enemy is and ascertain whether or not my daughter is still alive. Then I make my mind up as to what we do next."

"No plan? The great general doesn't have any strategy?" Drago retorted tartly.

Maximus grunted impatiently. "...I am not trading insults with you, boy. I will make my move when I am ready and when I am in possession of all the facts - and not before. Take whatever you think you might need and find me a way up. I have no time to waste."

"You trust me not to flee? I could simply disappear..."

"And risk Bella? Chance that I should set off after you and tear you limb from limb? I think even you are not so foolish..."

Drago took a small dagger and slipped it into his belt. "I do this for Bella. Not for you. I do not fear you..."

"...Then you should," Maximus retorted gruffly. "Stay out of sight. And don't keep me waiting..."

Drago threw Maximus a hostile glance before running off into the tree cover and disappearing. The older man tended to the horses, leading them to a nearby stream to drink and then tethered them loosely to graze. Looking up at the sky and assessing the hours remaining until dawn, he lay down and wrapped himself in a blanket to get a few hours of sleep.

Drago was back well before Maximus had expected him to. Unencumbered by horses and packs, the lightly armed young man was fleet of foot and silent as he sped up through the trees and the rocky outcrops. The quarry had been too obvious for a hunter like he. In their camp they were so confident that they had nothing to fear that they made no attempt to keep the noise abated or dampen down fires. His stomach gnawing with hunger and his body aching from the aftereffects of the beating, Drago still managed to be up above them on a hidden bluff when the first streaks of day began to lighten the sky.

He saw all he needed to and did not tarry. Bella was safe for now, asleep under a tree a little way distant from the others. He contemplated trying to reach her but he could see that to get that close was impossible - there were guards were out in the open (as well as others presumably hidden) and they would see him the moment he entered the clearing. It seemed a hopeless task for two men alone to accomplish but there was something in the calm confidence of Maximus that gave Drago a sense that this man above all would find a way. So, retracing his silent steps he made his way back down to where his uneasy ally lay sleeping.

Lower down the mountain, Drago was soon back with their horses and saw the shape of a man lying down huddled in his blanket for warmth against the early chill. He was momentarily disappointed in Maximus - anyone could have crept up and slit his throat in that exposed position. But his misgivings were soon dramatically altered when he felt the tight grip of the former general's hand around his neck and the cold steel of his dagger against his throat. "I hope you were quieter than that up above..." Maximus hissed into his ear before dropping his hands and moving back, going to the huddle and kicking it to reveal nothing but a few packs and some blankets.

Drago smirked. 

"Well?" Maximus barked.

"They are a large party. Nine, maybe ten men - I could see about five asleep but there must have been more scouts on look out. Bella was there, sleeping. She is tied but seems unhurt. They are noisy and making no attempt to hide. However, they have chosen an ideal place - a high plateau with sheer rock behind and a narrow defile leading into it. They would see the approach of a mounted man from a good distance away. Once in, you would not easily escape as it would be a simple matter to bridge the gap..."

Maximus crouched thoughtfully idly tracing a pattern in the dust of the ground with a stick. Drago wondered if he had heard him, so distant was his mood. He watched the scratches forming and then suddenly realized what he was looking at. Maximus was sketching what he had described and was already forming a battle plan.

"Like so? Show me where the men were. Use pebbles..." Drago indicated and chose a wild flower clutching to a cleft in the rock, to represent Bella. The symbolism was not lost on her father, nor was the way the pretty blossom quickly withered once plucked.

"Hmmmm....if they have any sense at all the lookouts will be...here...and here...and someone with the horses here..." and he speedily laid out a likely disposition of men. "This would be where they would plan to seal off the area once I had entered to trap me within... But a trap can work both ways..." Maximus grinned and then stood up, rubbing the traces of the red earth in his palm; he was already gearing himself up for the confrontation to come. "...Then it begins. Lead me to where you were positioned."

Drago made the climb a second time with Maximus bringing up the rear. The young poacher was surprised at how light Bella's father was on his feet for such a burly muscular warrior. The man was revealing more and more qualities that Drago was coming to admire. Finally as they settled back to await the first light, they lay side by side at the edge and gave some thought to the scene below.

"You're a good scout," Drago observed. "When do generals learn to creep around like thieves in the night?"

Maximus smiled wryly. "I was not always a general, son. I have paid my dues..."

"Yeah? Military tribune with a big plume on your helmet?  " Drago mocked.

"Explorator - third class. I was cavalry. Started at the bottom. My father was no patrician. I've spent many nights on my belly in the cold and rain scouting terrain far more inhospitable than this..."

Drago frowned, curious now. "How does a man go from that to a general of several legions?"

Maximus looked across. "Not as easily as a general falls from grace and finds himself slave to the mob...I achieved it through the sweat of my brow, the strength of my right arm and my bravery...are you ready to prove yours?"

The comment intrigued Drago. What had Maximus meant by this reference to slavery? "I have survived every day of my life through those very virtues...you do not need to teach me fortitude..."

"Good, because I neither have the time not the inclination for it. And now, let's think about what we do when we do it." Maximus sat back up and again drew a clear and concise map of the area below in the rough earth. "First, I want you here. As soon as I have passed through the defile, when their attention will be taken on watching and taunting me, then you block the pass yourself. A few boulders should be enough to slow them down.  They may well already have some obstructions to hand - if so - use them! Then skirt the area back into the trees and get above where you were before. How good's your bow arm?"

Drago scoffed. "No man can outshoot me. I am hunter!"

"...I'd give you a run for your money, boy...nevertheless it is to you I must entrust the key to this assault. From there," and he indicated a spot, "When I give the prearranged signal you must deliver a series of lightening arrows - and make each count. I want at least four of those fuckers incapacitated before I move. We will only have one chance, man...fail and all of us are dead...Any element of surprise will be momentary and then they will know exactly where and how few we are..."

"You mean to ride in exactly as they plan? They could kill you as soon as they see you!" Drago gasped.

Maximus shook his head. "This is not about that. Oh, yes, they want me dead, true enough, but this is about sport. Someone there wants to destroy my reputation and prove his own. His arrogance will be his undoing. He would be well to put an arrow between my eyes on sight - but he will not. And every moment that I am spared will chip away at his own chances of survival - but he is too wrapped up in his vanity even to consider that. I have known enough men like him, whoever he is. I have killed enough men like him. Give me long enough to get close and I will do the rest. But from the moment you let fly your artillery, you have to bear in mind that your sole focus is to defend Bella. Get to her and keep them from her anyway you can... With your life if needs be..."

Just then, a man wandered over to the campfire to help himself to a jug of the wine warming there. He took a long quaff and then his eyes fixed on the direction where Bella lay alone. He looked furtively about him and then made his way over to where she lay bound and sleeping awkwardly. Maximus sat up, his senses on high alert and he saw a similar reaction in his young companion. Both men waited, aware that if harm was visited upon her now, their careful plans would be tossed to the winds and they would have to go straight in and try to save her.

The assailant clamped his hand over her mouth and wrestled her to lie under him. His free hand, raked up her skirt as she fought to resist him. Drago jumped to his feet and made a reckless move as if to hurtle down and tackle the whole camp of men single-handedly. His face was contorted with wild rage. Maximus threw himself bodily on the boy and hustled him to the ground, choking off his impassioned cry of anguish and holding him until the boy settled. "Are you quiet? Listen to me! That way is sure death for both of you...whatever they do to her, you have to control your desire for revenge until you know you can make it count...! Look!"

Maximus released the boy and took a stone, expertly aiming it for a tree above one of the other sleeping men. The stone struck, the man rolled over and awoke and then he saw the struggle taking place close by. Bella and the other man, who had by now freed his prick and was forcing the girl to hold it, was ripping at her clothing. Rising up in temper, this second man leapt on the attacker, dragging him away and banging his head repeatedly on the floor. "I said she was not to be touched! I want her first!" The row startled the others who soon rose bleary eyed and watched impassively as the heavier Pontus beat the other man to death before their eyes. When he was inert, Pontus flung the body from him. Bella sat huddled, trying to repair her disturbed clothing, her eyes great pools of fear in her pale face and the tears tracking down her grubby skin.

Maximus' heart ached at what she had already witnessed at the hands of this foul and violent scum. It was almost beyond his powers of endurance to stand and watch as she was subjected to the worst and most vile excesses of men. But he forced the bile down and turned it inwardly into that place where he could feed the beast until he was ready to unleash it. "One less for us," he muttered into Drago's stunned face. "But see how easily they kill and how worthless human life is to them? A man without loyalty is worse than a dog. Bella will be torn apart by them if we fail. They will take her over and over again until she is dead. Remember that when the moment comes. That is why you must keep your head! Do not let them provoke you! We strike only when we can win!"

Drago breathed deeply and sat back down, burying his head in his hands. "I never touched her in all the times we were together. Not in that way. I wish now that I had not held back." He raised his head and stared defiantly at Maximus. "What good did my honouring her do? Spared her innocence for it to be taken by men such as they? Is that what you wanted? Raped by animals or forced by some dirty pervert of an old man in marriage? If I had my time again I would show her love as she has never known. At least she would know the difference...that men are not all like that..."

The young man's words provoked no visible reaction from Maximus, who merely stared him down and then turned away. But inside his head, they had hit their mark. How shallow and meaningless were the conventions of the world when put in those terms! What harm had this boy ever done by loving Bella? What travesties do so-called good men wreak when they play God with their children's lives? How might the empire have fared had he married Lucilla all those years ago and had become the heir of Aurelius instead of Verus - whether or not he had wished for such things? Would this whole damn nightmare have been avoided had Bella and Drago been allowed to fall in love and marry in the old ways of the country people from whom he had once sprung?

They would still have come for me, though, he thought. But that was of little significance. The unthinkable had happened. The innocent were again paying for his pride.