Rome, August 935 a. u. c. (182AD)

Commodus is dead.

This line keeps on echoing in my mind, but I don't know if it is because I am savouring its meaning or because I am still trying to convince myself he is really gone.

The news of Caesar's death arrived this afternoon with the suddenness of lightning flashing in the sky. Or better, like a sunbeam unexpectedly breaking through the cloudy sky after several days of rain, when you have all but forgotten the heaven's real colour. But then the sun peeks between the clouds and its warmth reaches you, dissipating at once the coldness that had seeped into your bones.

That happened today, when Palinurus brought the news to me.

He stormed into the room where I was keeping my usual training lesson to the young palace's scribes and by the way he slammed the door open I knew something big had happened.

My serving boy is young, but he knows his manners too well to behave in such a way without a reason, and a single glance to his heaving chest, sweaty face and wide eyes made me realize it was a very serious one.

"What is it, Palinurus?" I asked, walking to him.

"I bring news... from the... amphitheatre, mistress..." he was panting, half-bent forward as he tried to regain his breath. He had probably run all the way from the Colosseum to the Palace under the unmerciful summer sun, a hard feat for an eleven year old child.

"Breathe slowly and deeply," I commanded gently. I was burning with curiosity, but I tried to not reveal it, as Palinurus did his best to calm down.

In the end he spoke again.

"Caesar is dead, mistress." His voice echoed like thunder in the silent room.

I stared at him, stunned. 

"What?"

"Commodus is dead."

I turned to look at the scribes sitting behind their little desks and on each of those young faces I could read the same emotion I sensed was creeping across my own.

Hope.

"Are you sure?" I asked to Palinurus.

"Yes, my lady, absolutely. I saw it with my eyes."

I took a deep breath. "How did it happen?"

"That gladiator, the Spaniard, killed him. They fought in the Colosseum and the Spaniard pierced his neck with a dagger. He is dead, mistress, he won't hurt us anymore."

I frowned. As did everyone in Rome, I knew who the Spaniard was or was said to be, and how he had been defying Commodus since his first appearance in the arena.

But unlike many other women and men who had been swept away by the warrior's daring behaviour, we servants living in the Palace had been more concerned about how his actions had caused Caesar to become even crueller and more dangerous. Not only for us, but for his own family too.

I think I smiled then, completely forgetting I had forbidden Palinurus to attend the games for they are not a spectacle for such young eyes, and the boy grinned back.

Several hours are now elapsed from that moment, and the Palace has been thrown in complete chaos. There are soldiers - legionaries, not Praetorians- everywhere and I have been ordered to keep the household quiet and away. The order was given to me by a centurion, not by some imperial retinue, and I cannot help but wonder what is going on. Why is there a legion in Rome?

Lucilla is back in the Palace, I have seen her almost march along a corridor, followed closely by Senator Gracchus. They barricaded themselves into her study and as far as I know they are still there as I retire for the night.

No doubt they are discussing what will happen now to the Empire. Will young Lucius be hailed as the next Caesar? Somehow I don't believe Lucilla would wish for it, but it could turn out to be the only option to avoid a civil war. Perhaps this is the reason behind the legionaries' presence inside the city walls.

It is time to go to bed. Last night there was so much noise and confusion I could barely sleep. Commodus and his scheming companion, Senator Falco, had been shouting orders all the time, and committed the last of their crimes by ordering several people's death. Silence returned only at dawn, but it was not the kind that announces peace, calm and rest. It heralded defeat and pain- but luckily it turned to be Commodus'.

I wonder what happened to the Spaniard- to General Maximus Decimus Meridius, if I remember his name correctly. I forgot to ask to Palinurus. I will do it tomorrow.

For the moment I will go to sleep and, for the first time in almost two years, I will look forward to the next day. 

Commodus is dead.

Rome, August 935 a. u. c.

Lucilla summoned me this morning. 

I took my writing utensils with me, expecting to be asked to compile a letter and wondering if I would have to still use a code or, if we would be allowed to write clearly now that Commodus is dead.

However Lucilla had no letter to dictate me. Instead she ordered me to choose some of her most trusted servants, in a number sufficient to care for about forty persons, and to prepare to leave for Villa Hadriana tomorrow.

She offered me no explanation about her decision. I tried to enquire, but it took me a moment to understand it was not the time. This morning I was not dealing with Lucilla, my patroness and friend, at least as much an imperial lady and her freedwoman can be friends, but with the Augusta, and she had no time to spare for me, her secretary.

So I did what I was told to do. I selected the slaves and servants I found more suitable for the task ahead and told them to pack and be ready to leave by tomorrow morning.

Now I am here in my room, writing these few lines. Palinurus and Chloe have finished preparing my own luggage and they have gone to sleep, but I am not sleepy at all. My mind keeps on wondering about the strangeness of this situation.

Why are we being sent to Villa Hadriana? 

The enormous estate Hadrian built in Tibur is cared for year round by an army of slaves, servants and caretakers. So why does Lucilla want to send us there? And who are the people we have to care for? Why can't they be served by the Villa's slaves?

Questions, questions, questions. And no answers. I will end up with a headache if I don't stop now. It is better to go to bed and try to sleep, tomorrow will be a hard day.

Tibur, August 935 a. u. c.

The trip from Rome was uneventful. 

For some of the younger members of our party, Palinurus included, it was an exciting experience, for it is the first time they have left the city and travelled along the countryside and I could not help but smile at their awed eyes as they looked at the landscape from the wagons in which we were travelling. Their enthusiasm and curiosity has been contagious, for I, too, soon forgot the strangeness that surrounded our transfer and enjoyed the trip.

Villa Hadriana is even bigger than I remember it to be. It is more like a small town than a private property. I hope to be allowed to tour it in the next days, to discover some of the wonders the place is said to contain. But that will have to wait till I am sure everything goes smoothly in the household I have been sent to direct.

Once arrived, we found some legionaries waiting for us. I am not sure, but I think I have recognized one of them, a centurion named Valerius, from the Palace. He is the commander of the men lodging at the Villa. Or better, in a small part of it. As Lucilla said, they are about forty, and I and the household have to care for them. They all look like veterans of many years in the army, and for now they have treated us well, giving us the rest of the day free so we could get settled in the house. They arrived to cook their dinner for themselves, and I still smile at the idea of those hardened soldiers working in the beautiful kitchen I have seen while inspecting the place with Fortunata and Velasia. My two friends, who take cooking very seriously, found the dinner unexpectedly good.

Centurion Valerius and I had a good talk in the late evening and he said I will be in charge of the household and that I will have to report to him if I have some kind of problem or request. He seems to be a very nice man with a large, friendly face, but even he refused to tell me why we are here. He just ignored the question, wished me well and walked away.

It seems I will have to curb my curiosity...or try to resolve the mystery myself.

Tibur, August 935 a. u. c.

First day of work at the Villa. 

I spent the early morning conducting a new inspection of our quarters to decide how better to assign tasks to the household. We are lodged in what I believe to be a section of the Villa designed for guests. The cubicles where the soldiers are sleeping are all close together, the doors opening on a long corridor. The triclinium and the kitchen are a bit distant from the sleeping section of the house, and so is the bathhouse. The servants' quarters are near the cooking area, and so is the laundry and pressing room.

I think the repartition of tasks I did is good but in few days I will know if I have to change something. 

I had no time to take a tour of the Villa's garden, but just to step out onto one of the many terraces to enjoy some late afternoon breeze. It was scented with the perfume of several kind of flowers, a welcome change from the suffocating heat of Rome.

Tibur, August 935 a. u. c.

Everything seems to proceed well at the Villa.

I received no complaints from Centurion Valerius- aside from the fact that he asked me to have the cooks serve less elaborate food during the meals. He explained to me that he and his men are not used to such delicacies, which pushes them to try to taste everything with some damage to their stomachs. He told me to have the cooks prepare something simpler, because the legionaries are not on vacation, but on duty.

The last line again stirred my curiosity. What kind of duty are they performing? 

In truth, it seems they are guarding the house, but I cannot understand why. 

After my conversation with Valerius, I had a long talk with Fortunata and Velasia and reported to them what the soldier had told to me. They were not exactly pleased to have to curb their culinary expertise, but the reason for the centurion's request mollified them. After all, it was a compliment to their talents, and my friends understood it.

After that, I had to suffer through Marina's complains. 

Someone has thrown a sheet covered with blood in the laundry chest along with the other clothes, instead of putting it immediately in a tub full of water. The result is the blood stained a couple of tunics and, having dried on the fabrics, it is now extremely difficult to remove. Marina wondered as I did about who might have been so careless. The Palace staff is too well trained to commit such a mistake. Perhaps it was one of the soldiers- maybe he was hurt in during a training session or something like that. Marina wanted me to tell them, but I explained it could not happen. I doubt those veterans would appreciate a woman reproaching them because of a stained sheet.

Marina marched out muttering soldiers should know how to deal with blood (but perhaps they don't because they are used to their wine-red tunics and don't know what kind of damage blood can do on a white fabric) and I just hope whoever it was will not repeat the action again, otherwise I am not sure I will be able to stop her giving them a piece of her mind.

Note: I must keep my eyes open. I caught Lollia and Margarita spying on a group of soldiers as they trained in the gym. A couple of those legionaries are younger than the rest of the group and quite handsome and I don't want the girls to harbour dangerous ideas in their pretty heads.

Tibur, Late August 935 a. u. c.

This morning Centurion Valerius summoned me to the tablinium and asked me to write a letter for him. It was directed to his brother who lives in Mutina.

The first part of the epistle regarded Villa Hadriana, as Valerius described it to his sibling. The tone was awed and full of wonder, reflecting the same emotions I felt when I visited the first time. Perhaps he is even more impressed than me for, after all, I am used to living in Rome and in the Palace, while he has spent the last fifteen years of his life in a military camp.

He also talked about his actual mission, telling his brother he regretted not being able to say more, but that for the moment he is sworn to secrecy.

This comment had me quirk an eyebrow, but I hope I was able to otherwise control the curiosity it stirred in me.

What kind of mission is it?

Tibur, Late August 935 a. u. c.

More mystery in the air- and of a kind that is causing the most imaginative among us to let fantasy gallop. 

Lollia and Margarita have just reported me that at the extremity of the right wing of our quarters, beyond a door, there is a long corridor. They had found it by chance, because they believed the door opened on another bedroom and they wanted to be sure it was in order.

Being young and curious they tried to explore the area, but they were stopped by two soldiers, who commanded them to step back. When the girls returned there some hours later, hoping to be able to have another look, they found two legionaries stationed near the corridor opening and they came to tell me about it.

Just like Lollia and Margarita, I had no idea there was another hallway in that part of the house and I find the discovery very intriguing. Is it somehow connected to Valerius' "secret" mission?

By the way, another blood-stained sheet has appeared in the laundry, once again mingled with the other clothes. Marina was out of her mind and like a gladiator set to kill a foe, she interrogated all the household to discover who was the guilty one, but to no avail. Everyone claims to have not done it, and Marina told me they all seemed sincere. She returned to the laundry with the stained sheet under her arm and muttering something about putting a guard in the room to catch the responsible party with his hands (she is sure it is a man) in the chest... I won't be too surprised if she really does so.

Tibur, Early September 935 a. u. c.

Marina did it- she discovered who has been dropping the stained sheets in the wrong place.

She convinced Palinurus to sleep in the laundry and the boy saw a man enter the room and throw the fabric in the chest. Being smart, my serving boy followed him as he left the place and he reported me he saw the stranger disappear in the corridor guarded by the legionaries.

Palinurus insists the man is not one of the soldiers, whom he now knows well, for they often allow him to "spar" with them with a wooden sword, but a complete stranger.

So we have solved a mystery, but the strange facts increase. We have now a forbidden corridor, a strange man and three blood-stained sheets. I can no longer believe some soldier hurt himself by chance, it would be too much for such expert warriors. So, from where does the blood come?

What is happening beyond that guarded door?

Tibur, Early September 935 a. u. c.

Blessed Palinurus! Quick of wits, legs and eyes!

He had been spying in the right wing of the house for days and today he brought me very interesting news. He has seen Claudius Galen enter the hallway flanked by the man he caught in the laundry, talking among themselves in Greek.

"Are you sure it is really him?" I asked the boy just after he told me.

"Yes, mistress. I have seen him many times at the Palace- once he even visited me, when Caesar pushed me out of the way and I fell, spraining my ankle."

"Oh yes. Forgive me, young man, I had forgotten it." I ruffled his hair and smiled. "Well done. Now go out to play and try to not get yourself in trouble."

"I never do, mistress." He grinned and ran away.

He is such a smart boy! He is learning quickly the skills of a scribe and he will be able to command a good fee as a private secretary once he is an adult. I look forward to the day I will be able to set him free...

Returning to other matters, what is the imperial physician doing here? He is known to do strange experiments with corpses, that includes opening them to study their insides, but I doubt he would have a legion guarding him while he does it...

Hey, one moment....a sudden idea has invaded my mind...how could not I have thought about it sooner...He is a physician, a surgeon...perhaps he is attending someone...someone that must be healed in secrecy. Someone that must be guarded by a legion. We were sent here the day after Commodus was killed...What if Palinurus was wrong? What if Caesar is still alive? Wounded and prisoner... That could certainly explain why Valerius cannot tell it to his brother...

Blessed gods, please let me be wrong! 

He cannot be still alive...

Tibur, September 935 a. u. c.

Fortunata came to me after dinner, and asked me to do some magic to her back. She had slipped in the kitchen on the wet, just-washed floor and took a bad fall. She was in real pain, barely able to walk straight, and I lost no time to work on her.

Luckily, despite the intensity of her pain, the damage was light, for I had to do no more than put my hands on her lower back and keep them there for about ten minutes.

After it was done, Fortunata smiled broadly and kissed my hands with reverence, embarrassing me to no end.

"Blessed the gods who gave you this gift," she murmured.

I tried to free myself and minimize the whole matter, but she insisted. "You don't realize how good your hands are, do you? You don't know how their fire feels over battered muscles. It is a gift, you must not downplay it... I never understood why you never told Caesar about it, Matidia. He suffered from terrible headaches... you could have helped him and he would probably covered you with gold..."

"No." I said, shaking my head. "This is my gift and I share it only with the people I care for." Commodus deserved his pain, for what he did to his family and to several of the servants, killed on the spot or sent to die in the arena, for committing simple mistakes that under his great father they would not have been even noticed.

And now, perhaps, that monster we thought dead once and for all is living in this house, under the care of Galen. I still cannot believe it. If it turns out to be so, I will quit my job and retire in the house Lucilla gave me when she freed me. I won't live again under constant fear, this year has been too taxing- and  tonight I woke up feeling his hands over me, his body pushing inside mine...

Eight years passed since that awful night, but still he returns to haunt my dreams, and I cannot even contemplate returning to live in a place with him, always careful to keep my eyes lowered when in his presence, always trying to not do anything that might attract his attention...

Oh no, I won't do it... I am sorry, Lucilla, but I won't do it.

Tibur, September 935 a. u. c.

Today I was finally able to have a good, solitary walk in the Villa's extensive gardens and I gave more thought to the hypothesis the man Galen is healing might be Commodus.

Somehow, pondering with a cold mind, I began to believe I might be wrong.

Why should Lucilla want her brother to live? 

Since he ascended the throne, she had been living in fear like us, afraid for herself and her son. 

It was known to everyone living in the Palace Caesar harboured morbid, unnatural feelings for her.  And I know that she met several times with the senators that opposed him - I wrote many of her letters to them, spending hours elaborating a code so it could not be deciphered by Commodus' spies.

She should be the first one to thank the gods he is gone... But perhaps - perhaps she still loves him. He was or is her brother, after all. She saw him as a child, playing and growing up with him. Perhaps she is like one of those wives that love their husbands even if they beat them almost to death... perhaps she is not able to let him simply die. If it is so, may the gods help Lucilla and may she never regret her decision.

Tibur, September 935 a. u. c.

I don't know from where to begin writing this entry. 

My hands tremble because of what I witnessed, but I will force myself write, for it will help me to calm down and bring my emotions under control, something imperative if I want to catch some more sleep tonight.

All began late in the evening. 

I had been sleeping for a couple of hours when I woke up feeling thirsty. Fortunata had exceeded a bit with the spices at dinner and I was paying the consequences of my gluttony.

I rose from the bed and reached for some water, but the pitcher on the table was empty- Palinurus must have forgotten to refill it. So I put on my robe, picked up the pitcher and went to the kitchen.

I had already finished drinking and was getting ready to return to my room when I heard a door slam somewhere in the house. The wind that had blown all day had worsened during the night and I decided to search for the open door and bolt it before it might suffer some damage.

Carrying a lamp, I followed the noise to the right wing of the house. The door that was slamming opened onto the garden and was very near the one that lead to the forbidden corridor. For once it was not guarded and after bolting the other door, I could not help but stretch my neck and look in the hallway. It was all dark but for a shaft of light coming from a room set in the far end and I could not see anybody there.

I was about to return to my chamber when suddenly I heard a loud cry come from the corridor. Someone was screaming there, and the pain in that sound chilled the blood in my veins.

It was soon followed by a noise of commotion and by several voices speaking with hurried tones.

"Keep him still, he is convulsing!"

"His fever is too high, it is burning him alive!"

"Are you ready with that damned tub? We need to soak him - NOW!"

Almost without noticing it, my feet began to walk along the darkened hallway. 

A part of me understood I might put myself in trouble, but it was like that the piercing cries I was hearing were calling to me. They were growing more anguished, desperate and louder and they tugged at my heart. What were they doing to him - whomever "him" was?

When I finally reached the room from where the light, the screams and the voices came from, I peeked inside it with my head. It was a bedroom and the air smelled strongly with sickness and medical herbs. The rumpled bed I could see from my position was empty and the sheets lay on the floor.

Another hoarse scream echoed between the walls, followed by a voice ordering sharply, "Keep him still, he will hurt himself!"

I shivered and wrapped my robe more highly around myself, trying to dispel the cold whose blood-curling screams were causing to me, but I walked inside nevertheless. I simply needed to know what was going on.

Moving with caution I followed the noises to another, smaller room that opened on the bedroom and looked into it.

What I saw appalled me.

Four men, Valerius and Galen among them, were keeping a fifth one immersed in a tub. I could see snow floating into the water and I suddenly remembered the load of it that had arrived at the Villa late in the afternoon transported from the mountains. Fortunata and I had joked about someone in the immense estate wanting to eat some cold dessert, but it was now clear the snow had been ordered for a much more serious reason.

I have read somewhere about the practice of soaking sick people in cold water to bring down their fever, but I never imagined how it really worked. Nor I have imagined its effects on the persons submitted to it.

The man inside the tub thrashed and moaned, trying to free his arms from the people keeping him under water. He was shivering, his teeth were chattering and his face - at least what I could saw because he kept it lowered - was contorted in a grimace of pain.

"Put more in," ordered Galen and Valerius stood up and took one of the buckets full of snow that were near him, throwing its content inside the tub.

The man in the water cried hoarsely and, as his head snapped up, I was able to see his face. 

He was not Commodus. 

Thank you gods, he is not Commodus.

He is older than the late emperor, and his complexion is darker. I don't know who he is, but I just know that his cries and his pain have touched deeply - especially when his eyes looked into mine and he reached out a trembling hand in my direction.

"Help me..." he murmured hoarsely, the first coherent words I heard him say. His gaze, as he stared at me was fevered and desperate and yet, in that moment, lucid.

All the heads in the room turned to look at me and I fought the desire to back away as Valerius frowned.

"What are you doing here, Matidia?" He asked, but before I could say anything, the fevered man spoke again.

"Help me..." He repeated, and struggled against the people restraining him.

I stared stupidly to his outstretched hand until Galen exclaimed, impatience clear in his tone.

"What are you waiting for, woman? Come here and take his hand."

I moved forward and knelt at the tub's side, taking the man's hand in mine. It was big and calloused, his grip strong despite his illness, almost desperate, as if I was an anchor in the sea of his pain, and yet gentle.

His face was very pale and drawn, the lower half covered by a wild beard, while his eyes were clear and fixed on mine.

"Thank you," he murmured, before closing his eyelids and leaning his head against the tub, as I nodded, unsure what else I could do or say.

I don't know how much time I spent kneeling on that wet, cold marble pavement. I just know he never let go of my hand and that he stopped rebelling against the treatment he was submitted to.

He remained mostly silent, occasionally moaning and squirming when a new bucket of snow was added to keep the water as cold as possible. When it happened, I caressed his face and he calmed down, opening his eyes, beautiful despite their fevered glaze, for a moment and looking at me, gratitude plain in them.

After a while Galen, who had been checking his patient often, declared himself satisfied: the fever had decreased and he ordered to lift the man out of the tub.

I was told to let his hand go and I did, although he tried to resist. I then stood up and moved out of the way as Valerius, Galen and the other soldier lifted him, while the fourth member of their team wrapped a woollen blanket around his naked body.

I backed into the bedroom as the group advanced slowly, and looked as he was lowered on the bed, energetically dried, dressed with a fine nightgown and put to sleep under several blankets.

I watched everything, fighting the desire to approach the bed and help them, in the meantime preparing for what would happen next. I had disobeyed an order, the least I could expect was a severe reprimand.

But nothing of this happened.

After he finished attending the fevered man, Centurion Valerius approached me and smiled tiredly. "Thank you for your help, Matidia."

I shook my head weakly, once again at a loss for words.

"Now go to sleep and don't repeat anything of what you saw this evening to the other servants. We will talk more tomorrow, for now it is late."

"As you wish, sir."

I bowed my head to him and did as he commanded - but I could not help but throw a last glance to the bed. The man seemed to be asleep, probably exhausted by his ordeal and I went away feeling reassured.

Reassured...reassured about what? About whom? Who is that man? I suppose he must be someone fairly important to have Galen care for him in Villa Hadriana, but I cannot think of any name. Some member of the imperial family I have not seen before?

It is better to stop here. I can feel tiredness creeping over me and I don't want to push it away by forcing myself to continue thinking. I need to sleep. The morning will arrive all too soon, and with it the conversation with Valerius and, perhaps, the answers I am looking for.

Tibur, September 935 a. u. c.

Centurion Valerius summoned me this afternoon, but when I arrived at the tablinium I found Lucilla waiting for me.

"My lady!" I exclaimed surprised, bowing deeply. "I did not know you were here visiting!" 

"Nobody knew, Matidia."

"Do you wish me to tell the maids to prepare a room for you, domina?"

"No, it is not necessary. This is a very brief visit; I will return to Rome in a hour."

"As you wish, my lady."

Lucilla rose from the chair she had been sitting on and walked to the window. I observed her and saw she looked much better than the last time I had seen her at the Palace. She had gained some weight, her skin was no longer so pale and there were no more shadows under her eyes.

She was silent for a while, then she turned to me and said. "Centurion Valerius told me what happened during the night."

I lowered my eyes. "I am sorry, my lady. I did not mean to intrude, but I heard someone scream and my curiosity had the best of me."

Lucilla waved my apology away with her hand.

"Don't worry, Matidia. Nothing bad happened. I placed you in charge of this household because I absolutely trust you, and I know you will be discreet."

"Yes, my lady."

"And also I must thank you for what you did for the general. Valerius told me you were very helpful."

"The general?" I could not help but ask.

"Yes," Lucilla said softly, "General Maximus Decimus Meridius, the Saviour of Rome, as the people call him now."

I was speechless. So the sick man I had seen was Commodus' killer!

Lucilla went on, explaining, "He was seriously wounded during his last fight and we brought him here in secret - no one, outside a few trusted people, knows he is still alive - because we wish him to be left in peace as he recovers. My father wanted him to take his place as ruler of the Empire, but I don't know yet if he will accept and you are aware of how insistent senators and politicians can be..."

Yes, I am. I have lost count of the letters I had to write through the years to keep them quiet as they pressed Lucilla to know if their proposed law encountered her father's approval, if they were going to be assigned the governorship of this or that province and so on. They are always so anxious and in a hurry. I can imagine all too well how they would bury the General under piles of scrolls and petitions even before he is able to leave his bed if they knew he was here. But the man I saw yesterday needs nothing of this. He only needs to be left in peace and allowed to heal.

I wonder about who this General Maximus is. 

Yes, I know he was the Commander Of The Armies Of The North under Marcus Aurelius and that he was disgraced under Commodus' reign, so much so he ended up a slave and a gladiator. But he had to be much more than a good military leader if, as Lucilla said, her father wanted him as his successor.

Marcus Aurelius was anything but stupid, and he was a good judge of character. That's why we were all stunned when Commodus was declared emperor - or hailed himself so - at his father's death. It seemed impossible the late Caesar could have chosen him - and he probably did not, if I understood the meaning of Lucilla's words correctly. Marcus Aurelius chose General Maximus, Commodus refused to comply and accused his rival of treason. How typical of him.

Lucilla does not seem concerned about the situation. From what I was able to discern from the way she spoke and acted - and by the obvious trouble she is taking for having him restored to full health - she quite likes the General and she does not look upset he might take her son's place as emperor.

Perhaps she has had enough of politics, and I could not blame her. 

I was born a slave and remained so for twenty four years, submitting to somebody else's will, but sometimes I believe my life has been easier than hers. I have been at her side for the past eleven years and I have seen what her life had been like. First she had to deal with a husband that considered her nothing more than a high-class broodmare and created all kinds of problems, then she had to cope with a crazy brother who lusted after her and threatened to destroy her, her child, and the Empire.

She had been extraordinary strong all these years, bearing everything fate threw at her with dignity, but she cannot go on like this forever. She probably wants some peace, and I pray the gods will grant it to her. She is so much more than my patroness and I wish to see her happy.

Tibur, September 935 a. u. c.

After dinner Fortunata, Velasia and I went outside to walk on one of the terraces. We are already in autumn, but the weather had been very good till now. We sat on a stone bench and talked.

"So, what did the Augusta want from you yesterday?" asked Fortunata.

"You know about her visit?" I thought she did not, for she had not commented on it sooner.

"Yes, of course. I have ears and eyes working for me outside the kitchen." She winked at me.

"I suppose so." A smile, "She wanted to know how it was proceeding here, if everything is fine."

"Uh-uh. And did she tell you something about what we are actually doing here? You know, something about the forbidden corridor and the bloodied sheets?"

"No, she did not." I lied.

"Did you even tried to enquire?" She insisted.

"No."

"Argh!" 

Silence fell over us for a while, then Velasia sighed. "I like this place, but it so boring... No theatre, no arena, no nothing."

"Well," commented Fortunata, "That's not true. The Villa has a private theatre and an arena - it is just we are not allowed to go there!"

Velasia pouted and I shook my head. "I just cannot understand how can you like the games so much. How can you enjoy to see people slaughter each other?"

She shook her shoulders. "I don't like the killings, but I like the gladiators. They are so handsome! Tanned, tall, big, their bodies glistening with oils...uhmmmm..."

We laughed at her appreciative sound, then I suddenly asked, "What about the Spaniard?"

"Ah-ah, so you are not the library-mouse we think you are!" Velasia grinned in triumph, "You know about the very best!"

"Even the stones know about him!" I scowled at her.

Velasia and Fortunata laughed at me. "Do you know about his story too? That he was a general? And that Commodus killed his wife and son and how he swore to avenge them in the Colosseum?"

That I did not know. Poor man - so much suffering and grief. Just as with Lucilla, I hope the gods give him peace.

"...it is a pity he died, he was such a good looking man! I wanted to go to his funeral, but we had to leave..." Velasia had continued to talk, but I had lost much of her speech, but when she finished I could not help but wonder what would she say or do if she knew the Spaniard was still alive and under our roof. She would probably put herself in trouble in attempt to see him- and that is all the more reason to keep my lips sealed.

Tibur, October 935 a. u. c.

I saw him again.

The General.

It happened in the early afternoon, when I decided to spend some time outside. Today the sun shone and the air was pleasantly warm to be October, so I searched for a quiet corner in the gardens where I could read in peace.

I found it in a little spot in the shadow of an olive tree, where a little marble bench was. I wonder if Emperor Hadrian ever stopped there and sat down to think and read as I did.

I had been there for an hour or so when, in the attempt to push away an annoying bee, I inadvertently threw to the ground the cup full of watered wine I had brought with me. It landed at few feet from me, hitting the marble steps that lead to one of the numerous terraces of the Villa, and the slight clangour it caused echoed between the building at my back and the trees.

"Who is there?" called a male voice, seemingly coming from nowhere.

I jumped to my feet and looked around, trying to locate its source.

"It's me, Matidia, sir," I answered, knowing it was highly unlikely it was one of the servants.

"Matidia?" replied the man. "Come here, I cannot see you."

I walked in the direction from where the voice had come, stepped on the terrace and found him.

He was lying on a couch behind a low wall; his back was propped up by several cushions and a blanket covered him. However he looked much better than the night I had first seen him.

I bowed my head in salute and apology. "I am sorry sir, I did not mean to disturb your rest."

"I was not sleeping," he said, in his low, rumbling voice, his blue-green kindly fixed on mine, "I was just basking in the sun, like a lizard." He grinned and I could not help but imitate him. There was something so...innocent... in that smile.

He turned serious again and looked at me for a while, as if he was studying my features, before talking again. "I thought I dreamed you, Matidia. That you were but a fruit of my fevered mind. Instead you are real. You were with me that night?"

"Yes, domine."

"I remember grabbing your hand...and your fingers caressing my cheek..."

I lowered my eyes embarrassed that he might think I have taken too many liberties with him. "You were very sick, and I-"

"Shh..." he silenced me, "I was not complaining. On the contrary. I wanted to thank you for being near me when I needed help most."

He smiled again and, relieved, I smiled back.

"It was my pleasure, domine, and if you allow me to say so, it is even a greater one to see you are feeling better."

He nodded. "Yes, I feel better, but still very weak - like a newborn kitten."

I looked at him and nodded. I remember very well how thin and pale he was that night. He is a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, but the illness caused him to lose a lot of weight. However I was not lying when I told him he looked better. His face was less drawn, his eyes sparkling and his neatly trimmed beard helped to mask the signs left behind by fever and pain.

"Give it time, domine." I told him and he nodded.

"Galen says the same." He yawned and it was like tiredness suddenly crashed over him.

"You are sleepy, sir." I murmured, "I will leave you alone now, so you can rest."

"Yes, I think it is the case." He smiled again, "I liked talking with you, Matidia. Come visit again tomorrow, if you like. I will be here again, barring inclement weather."

"I will come, domine." I answered, bowing my head in salute and leaving him to his nap.

I hope he will feel better soon for he seems to be a very nice and kind man and clearly deserves some peace after everything he had to suffer.

Tibur, October 935 a. u. c.

I spent some more time with the General.

He was in the same place and position as yesterday, but today he was more alert. In truth he almost startled me, calling my name as soon as I stepped into the garden.

"I am here, domine," I exclaimed, impressed by the fact he had heard me. He must have a very good ear, but I suppose it is natural given the fact he is a soldier.

I hurried to reach him and was pleased to see he looked better. His eyes were even brighter and, even if it might have been only my imagination, I think there were less lines on his face.

"Good afternoon," he greeted me with a smile. "I was waiting for you."

"Really, domine?" I was pleasantly surprised. Nobody has ever welcomed me with such sincere enthusiasm.

"Of course. Galen has left me here three hours ago and I was getting lonely." His smile disappeared and his eyes took a faraway look. "Too many things to ponder, too many memories I don't wish to recall..." He blinked and seemed to remember he was not alone, but his expression still spoke of a grief and a pain that had little or nothing to do with his physical condition.

Something in his lost gaze tugged at my heart and I had the need to caress his cheek and tell him everything would be well. 

It is the first time I have such feelings for a man - a master. 

Is it because of his condition, because he is so weak? Because he had been one of us and has known on his skin what it means to be a slave? Or just because of who he is, a strong yet vulnerable man?

I don't know and I am not sure I wish to. He is stirring strange feelings in me, that I cannot recognize nor relate to. They are different from the attraction I felt for my past two lovers - and yet similar... I must stop this line of thought.

And yet I cannot forget the look of delight that flashed on his face when I offered to read him some passages of the Aeneid, to occupy his time. His eyes shone and I could see them start to smile even before his sensual mouth widened in a grin.

Sensual mouth? And this comes from where?

My gods, what is happening to me? 

Please tell me I am not falling in love with him! Not now! Not him! 

He is not for me...I must not have such thoughts.

Tomorrow I will not go again in the garden. 

No matter how he liked to hear me read. 

No matter how pleasurable it was to see I had his complete attention. 

No matter how hard it will be to keep this intention.

Tibur, October 935 a. u. c.

It is raining.

I have always loved rain, I find its sound as it falls on the roof, soothing and calming.

And yet today I caught myself cursing against it, for it does not allow the General to spend time outside. I should be relieved because if not for the bad weather I might have failed my determination to not visit him, instead I am worried for his health. This dampness is not good for him - he needs the beneficial effect of the sun.

Tibur, October 935 a. u. c.

It still rains. This is the third day, and the entire household begins to resent it. The soldiers do not seem to care about it and work out regularly. I suppose it is not a great annoyance for men used to Germania's harsh climate, but Palinurus, for example, is getting bored because he cannot go outside and continue his exploration of the Villa's grounds. In truth he would be willing to go out even with the rain, but after the scare he caused me last winter when he burned with fever for three days and coughed for one month, I forbade him to leave the house.

I wonder how the General is and if he is bored too. How does he spend his days? 

After lunch, I walked to the right wing of the building. I wanted... I don't know what I really wanted but the fierce expression of the soldiers guarding the access to the corridor made me abort any idea I might have had.

I just hope he is well - and I long to see him again. I long...I long to have the freedom to go to visit him as Lucilla has.

Tibur, Late October 935 a. u. c.

The gods have not listened to my prayers.

I have fallen in love. 

Or at least I think so, for this is the first time in my life and I am not certain of my emotions. Pretty pathetic, considering that, at twenty-nine, I am hardly a girl and that Lollia and Margarita, at half my age, know so much more.

My past affairs were not based on love. There was attraction, fondness, the knowledge of our powerless condition and, in one case, the desire to replace the memory of my first master claiming my virgin body with something more pleasant.

My heart had never sung at the mere sight of my lovers as it happened when today I saw the General in the garden after so many days. And this time he was not lying down, but walking.

He is still far from well and his posture is not straight as he favours his right leg, but seeing him standing, after having been so sick was nevertheless a relief. He is healing and the rain did not hinder his progress.

As I watched him hidden from behind a column, I longed to go to him, to talk and bask in the warmth of his personality, but I could not, for I had promised to teach Velasia how to read, and I could not risk her coming to search for me and spot the General walking in the garden.

Tibur, Late October 935 a. u. c.

I am in love. I have no more doubts now. 

I have fallen in love with a man who does not even imagine it and who could never be mine. 

The sensation of elation I feel when I think about my newly acknowledged emotion mingles with the awareness my love is hopeless and, suddenly, sadness crashes over me. But I push it away.

"Carpe diem", as Horatius wrote. Enjoy each day at its fullest and don't care for tomorrow. I will follow his advice. I will enjoy the little happiness I have as I can. After all, what I am feeling is so much more than I have experienced in my life. I have never been happy before. Content yes, happy no.

Tibur, Late October 935 a. u. c.

This morning I was summoned to the tablinium to do my duty as scribe but once again I did not find Centurion Valerius waiting for me - it was the General.

He smiled broadly at the surprise on my face.

"Hello Matidia," he greeted me, "I gather you did not expect me."

"Indeed, domine."

"Instead I was aware you would come and looked forward to see you again." 

How was I supposed to reply to that?  And how could I control the pleasure and the joy those words had stirred in me? I lowered my head, hoping he would not notice my cheeks, which, I am sure, were flushed red.

"You honour me, domine."

He waved my words away, as to downplay them, then pointed at the desk. "It is better we begin now, the letter I have in mind is quite long."

I nodded, sat down and opened my wax tablets. "I am ready, domine."

He nodded and began to dictate to me, his voice clear and slow, the diction very precise. It was a letter destined to the caretaker of his estate in Hispania. It contained a series of instructions about how to rebuild the villa there, from how tall he wanted it to where to fetch the pink stones for the walls. He also enquired about the condition of the fields, the vineyards, the orchard and the olive grove and gave the peremptory order to not mess with what remained of the kitchen garden.

While I wrote, I heard his voice falter on some words and I wondered what happened to his estate. And also, while he dictated me, I tried to imagine how the Spanish countryside looks and I dreamed to visit it...at Maximus' side.

Here, I have done it. 

A moment of distraction and my hand broke the rule I had set: to never write his name. 

To never use it, for it implies a familiarity I don't have and long for. 

To not make the desire I feel to be allowed to call him so, even stronger than it already is. 

But it is too late - and probably these tablets will be the only place where I will be able to write his name, and this room the one where I will be able to whisper and taste it on my lips.

Maximus.

Returning to this morning, once the dictation was over, Maximus fell silent as I unrolled a piece of papyrus and transcribed the notes I had taken using the short hand on it. As I worked, I threw occasional glances to him, as he paced back and forth in the room. In the beginning I thought he was impatient and tried to occupy his time as I wrote, but watching him, I noticed that was not the case. He looked like a man who walked because he could not sit down.

As realization dawned in me, I noticed how he kept on rubbing and flexing his lower back, as if he was in pain.

In the end, when my job was complete and I could bear no longer to witness his discomfort, I took my courage in my hands and asked, "Forgive me, domine, but can I speak freely?"

"Of course you can," Maximus replied, curiosity in his eyes.

I licked my lips trying to find the right words.

"Domine, I could not help but notice your back is troubling you." He nodded, encouraging me to go on. "Well, I - I seems to possess a strange gift. My hands are always unusually warm and they seem to help people when they are sore or hurting in some part of their bodies. I thought that perhaps...if you want...I might try to help you with your back..." I lowered my eyes, afraid I might have said and presumed too much.

"Why not?" Maximus commented, coming closed to the desk. "What I have to do?"

He was eager to try and I became aware he was probably even more sore than I had reputed him to be.

I stood up and circled the desk. "Since there is no place where you can lie down, domine, we will do this with you standing." He nodded. "You need to remove your clothes, or at least roll your tunic up enough to bare the area where you hurt more."

Maximus let out a humourless laugh. "I hurt everywhere."

Then he unbuckled his belt and took off his tunic, his movements slow and careful.

Even now my legs shake as I remember the sight of his body.

He is thin, yes, but even so his physique speaks of a barely contained strength and power. His skin is still tanned, warm and soft and his chest is so wide it is impressive. His back is marred by a long scar, still very pink and puckered, originating from a coin-sized mark near his left scapula and running down almost to his kidneys. This section looks like a surgical cut, but I am not sure.

What I know is that the desire to bend and kiss each inch of it better, as my mother did when I was a child, was so strong I actually felt dizzy.

I asked Maximus to lean over the desk as much as he could, for he is a tall man, and I had problems reaching the upper part of his back. He did as I asked, placing his palms on the table and bending forward.

My hands trembled when I put them on his back, one above the other, with my palms flat following the path of the long scar.

We remained silent, the only sound in the room those of our combined breathing, as I prayed to every god I know to not let me fail.

They listened to my pleas: about ten minutes later Maximus straightened and rolled his shoulders as I looked at him anxiously. He then turned to me, his eyes filled with wonder.

"It worked," he whispered, his voice full of awe and admiration. "Thank you, Matidia."

I smiled broadly, happy beyond words to have been able to help him.

"It was my pleasure," I murmured shyly, glad he could not understand what kind of pleasure I really felt...

After that he dressed and a few minutes later left the tablinium with his letter under his arm, but not before thanking me again.

I watched him go, then sighed and started to put away my writing utensils, the image of his tanned flesh impressed in my mind.

NOTE: I must be careful to keep my feelings in check when I am near Velasia. This afternoon I have been daydreaming all the time during our reading lesson and she noticed it. She is too smart, so much so she even told me "What is happening to you, Matidia? Are you in love?" She said jokingly, but her arrow hit the target fully.

I cannot let her know. Nobody must know, for I want neither "pieces of advice" or compassion.

Tibur, Early November 935 a. u. c.

The day began with one of the greatest frights I have suffered in my life, but luckily everything turned for the better.

I was startled before dawn by someone knocking on my door. Confused by being woken so suddenly, I went to open and found Centurion Valerius standing there, his usual jovial face very tense.

"Please dress, Matidia." He said after a quick bow of his head, "Your skills are required. I will wait here."

Without giving me time to open my month, he closed the door and I hurried to do as he had asked, worrying about the reasons of the summon. What could have happened that he needed to write such an urgent letter it could not wait till the morning?

I donned my clothes, then I reached him in the hallway. "I am ready, domine."

"Good. Follow me."

I did, and my eyes widened when instead of taking me to the tablinium, he marched me across the house to its right wing and the corridor leading to Maximus' room.

The soldiers on guard saluted him sharply, but he did not slow down his strides till we reached the door at the opposite end, which was open like the first time I had been there.

Centurion Valerius indicated I should wait there as he went inside the room.

"She is here, General." I heard him say.

"Good. Call her in." I shivered when I heard Maximus' voice but got hold of myself before Centurion Valerius appeared on the threshold and motioned me inside.

As soon as I was in the room my eyes ran to the bed, where Maximus was lying belly down, his head turned on one side, looking at us. His eyes seemed to brighten when he saw me and certainly he smiled.

"Thanks the gods you are here, Matidia," he began. "I am sorry for throwing you out of bed, but my back has cramped up, so much I cannot move without being blocked by pain, and Galen and his son have returned to Rome yesterday. I hope your hands will be able to help me like they did the other day."

Warmth invaded my being. He was in pain and he had asked for my help - for he trusts me.

My chest swelled with pride and love.

"I will do my best to be of assistance to you, domine." I answered, moving closer to the bed.

"Thank you," he murmured, before adding in a louder tone. "You can leave us now, Valerius. I am perfectly safe with the lady here. I will call if I need you again."

Centurion Valerius did not look too convinced, but did as bidden, exiting the room and closing the door.

As soon as he was gone, I bent forward and I pulled away the blanket covering Maximus, before rolling up his nightshirt as gently as I could to bare his back. He tried to help me, but it was evident each movement, no matter how slight, was painful for him.

Once the fabric was out of the way, I sat at his side on the bed, and put my hands on Maximus' back, leaving them on each spot for several minutes, before moving them to another area. We did not talk as I worked, and he closed his eyes, while I had to concentrate hard to not let myself do what I really wanted to: caress Maximus and feel his muscles in a complete different way.

I am not certain about how much time elapsed in this way, but after a while Maximus opened his eyes and said, "Let me try to move to see how it goes."

"As you wish."

I removed my hands and watched as he arched his back, rolled his shoulders, put his arms under himself and pushed himself up, before lowering his body back on the mattress again and rolling over and facing me with such a speed I stopped to wonder if had succeeded or not.

He adjust the pillow under his head and smiled up at me.

"You hands are truly magic."

"I am glad I was able to help you, domine." I smiled back at him, trying to control the urge I felt to bend down and kiss his mouth.

"He is not for you", I kept on repeating to myself, as my eyes stranded again and again to his lips.

I almost jumped when his warm, big hand wrapped around mine and brought it to his mouth, kissing its back.

No one had ever done that and I was completely at a loss.

"Thank you, Matidia," he said again, his eyes fixed on mine in a way that was confusing and even unsettling, for those blue-green orbs seemed to read inside me.

"Are you all right, General?" Centurion Valerius' voice, coming from behind the thick door, broke the spell of the moment.

Maximus grinned then, to my astonishment, winked at me and called aloud, "No Valerius, this slender, beautiful and delicate female overwhelmed me with her superior strength!"

"Are you serious, sir?" Centurion Valerius sounded somehow uncertain.

"Of course not, but this should show you I am feeling much better since I am willing to joke!"

Centurion Valerius fell silent and I had to bite my lower lip to avoid a laugh.

Then I sobered.

Maximus had just called me beautiful.

Did he mean it?

This question has been plaguing me all day. Since before I left his room, Maximus' words have been turning and turning in my mind.

I know I should stop mulling over them. He was joking, teasing his officer, he was not serious...and yet...yet...

Oh blessed gods, help me! Help me not disgrace myself! Help me not make a fool of myself.

Maximus is not for me - and I must not forget it.

Tibur, November 935 a. u. c.

Maximus summoned me again. But unlike yesterday it did not happen in the early morning, but in the afternoon.

When I arrived at his room, I found him sitting on the bed, wearing a blue robe and rubbing his damp hair with a towel. I could see he was moving well, and it made me happy.

"Good afternoon, Matidia," he greeted me with a smile.

"Domine," I bowed my head. "May I attend you in some way?"

"Yes, indeed you may. I just completed a workout and my upper back is a bit sore. I need some more of your magic touch."

"I am at your service, domine." I replied, but betraying the shiver of anticipation that ran along my back at the prospect of touching him again.

He smiled, put away his towel, removed his robe and laid down on his belly.

I walked to the bed and sat down near him as yesterday. I observed his back and I noticed a bruise on his left side. I pressed it gingerly and he winced.

"I am sorry," I hurried to apologize - causing him pain was the last thing I wished to do.

"No need, Matidia. It is not your fault. It is me who has become too soft."

"If I am allowed to say so, domine, I think you are entitled to be, considering what happened to you." I remarked, placing my flat palm over the bruise.

"You know my story?" he murmured.

"A little bit. A friend told me. But in truth I was just referring to the extent of the damage done to your back. You have quite a scar here."

"Yes... Galen had to open me to draw the infected blood caused by a stiletto wound near my scapula."

"Oh." My eyes ran to the coin-sized mark I had noticed the first time I helped him. 

"Who did this to you?" The words left my mouth before I was able to stop myself.

"Commodus," he replied matter of fact, "He wanted to be sure to win our fight."

"But he lost nevertheless."

"Yes."

"I am so glad he did, domine." I said aloud, but added only to myself, "And I am so happy you are alive, my love."

"So am I." Maximus laughed, then tried to move. "The pain is gone, your magic worked again."

I bowed my head, removed my hands and stood up, a bit regretful everything had ended so quickly.

He sat up on the bed and looked briefly out of the window, before turning to face me.

"Would you like to go outside for a walk in the gardens? They tell me they are beautiful."

I was not sure about how to reply. It was not an order, but a proposal to which I wanted so badly to say yes. And yet I was so uncertain...

Velasia jokes when she teases me calling me a library-mouse, but truth is I feel more at ease with the scrolls and volumes than with people, especially with men. I still remember what that swine of Balbinus did to me. I still remember what happened just after Lucilla freed me and Caius began to court me. He seemed to be the perfect man and instead he just wanted me to introduce him to the imperial circles. That episode still hurts and it is one of the reasons I decided to remain with Lucilla despite having the means to leave. She, her son and the household are my family and I feel safe with them - even when Commodus was alive I felt stronger by being near them.

This afternoon I felt desperately alone when the time came to reply to such a simple query: did I want to go outside with Maximus?

A part of me wanted so much to say yes and perhaps take him to places in the gardens I like most.

The other part told me to say no and not spend more time with him the one it was required, because he is dangerous. 

I am in love with him and he is not for me. That's why he is dangerous and that's what I must never forget.

But today I was not able to resist the temptation. I have never been when he is involved.

"I will come, if you it pleases you, domine." I replied after a long hesitation.

Maximus frowned and I got the impression he did not like my answer.

However he nodded and asked me to wait outside his room as he dressed. I obeyed and a few minutes later he joined me, wearing a wine-red military tunic, high belt and sturdy sandals. Very simple clothes, and yet he looked more impressive and commanding than a Senator in his white toga and purple laticlavius.

"Let's go," he said and led the way, pushing a door open as he gestured to me to precede him outside. 

We strolled in the gardens in silence, admiring the vegetation, painted with the autumn colours, the fountains and the statues scattered here and there.

After a while we reached the big thermae and stopped in front of them as Maximus commented, "Emperor Hadrian certainly liked to treat himself well."

"He certainly did, domine."

He faced me, an intent expression on his features. "Will you do something for me, Matidia?"

Everything, I wanted to say, but I simply nodded.

"Will you stop to call me domine? I don't like it."

"And how should I call you? I am at your service." I think I have never resented to have been born in slavery as much as today, for there are too many things that will never change even if I am now free.

Maximus shook his head. "You are not at my service. You work for the Augusta Lucilla."

"Then how do you wish to be called?"

"You can call me sir or general. Or, even better, Maximus."

My head snapped up. He could not be serious! But he was.

However I could not bring myself to use his name. I am struggling every moment to not let my emotions become too clear and I am aware of the longing with which I whisper his name when I am alone in this room.

Maximus...

"As you wish, sir." I finally said and he smiled. 

"That's better."

We started to walk again, circling the bathing resort, then he asked, "Were you born in the imperial palace?"

I was a bit surprised by his question, but I did not hesitate to reply.

"No. My first master was a senator named Balbinus. I was born in his house and he had me trained as a scribe." I refrained from telling him that the pig had used me for something else other than writing letters, despite the fact I was, with all probability, his own daughter. And I did not tell him what he did to my son...

"I see. And have you been with Lucilla for a long time?"

"Twelve years. After Balbinus died, fifteen years ago, I was sold to the imperial palace and worked for three years as Empress Faustina's scribe. I was then given to the Augusta Lucilla, just after she married."

Maximus nodded as we continued to stroll. "When did she set you free?"

"Four years ago."

We stopped again, this time in front of a statue that represented a goddess with her hand placed on the heads of two children. It was a very beautiful piece and her face seemed so full of love as she looked down at the little one.

"It is amazing," commented Maximus, "It seems almost alive."

"Indeed."

"I believe it represent the Fecunditas, the fecundity. I have seen this personification on the reverse of many coins." He turned to look at me and smiled broadly. "My grandfather had kept some coins from Trajan's times and one of them portrayed the Emperor's niece, Matidia. And on the reverse there was the Fecunditas, just like we are seeing it here."

I smiled back at him, then watched as he sobered again. "May I ask you a personal question, Matidia? You can tell me if I am becoming too nosy, and order me to mind my business."

My grin became wider as I nodded. Order him something? Highly unlikely.

"Why are you still working at the Palace? I am sure Lucilla must have provided for you when she set you free. Why are you not married? Why your patroness did not arrange a marriage for you?"

Oh gods, when he said it is a personal question, he really meant so!

I sighed and looked away thinking about an answer.

"She wanted to. But I refused. I treasure my freedom too much."

He winced, as if my cold words had been almost a slap to his face.

"I see..." he murmured, but I understood he did not. 

From what I have gathered his marriage was a very happy one. He probably ranks along those Roman husbands who really felt affection for their wives - the ones that leave such beautiful and touching manifestations of love on the funeral stones along the Appian Way. But in my life I have only seen other kinds of husbands, being them plebeian or patrician. I remember all too well how unhappy Lucius Verus, an emperor, made Lucilla, considering her just a broodmare.

And yet, as I said those words, I realized they were not true.

I would gladly lose my freedom to become Maximus' wife and I would be his willing slave with no regrets.

I did not marry till now because I never had met someone like him.

And I won't marry in the future because I have met him.

I just had a long conversation with Velasia.

She saw Maximus and me in the garden and recognized him. She wanted to know what I was doing outdoors with him, and more importantly what he is doing here and so on.

I answered to her questions as sincerely as I could because I know had I not done it, she would not leave me in peace or, worse, she would go hunting for explanations and end up in trouble with the soldiers. So I talked to her making absolutely clear she was not to repeat what I said because it might be dangerous for her. She is still a slave and there are strict limits to what she can do. Velasia nodded and I believe she will keep her word.

I also hope she will leave me in peace not harass me regarding my feelings for Maximus, of which she is well aware. As I talked my voice betrayed me and my smart friend was quick to put two and two together.

"So it is him," she said triumphantly, "I have seen this coming for the past days, but I did not know who was the lucky one! Well my friend, I can only commend your good taste!"

I did not reply, I felt too miserable. 

"Now all you have to do is to seduce him."

"WHAT?!" I think I almost shouted.

"Dear Matidia, I have never seen you so taken by a man and I know you have never had good experiences in bed. You told me what your first owner did to you and I remember your disappointment after you had sex with your lovers...But he might be different. You told me he is gentle and caring and he showed interest in you - otherwise he would not have enquired about your past. This is a chance you cannot lose..."

I stared at her wild eyed, speechless.

Velasia took the hint, sighed and shook her head. "All right, do not look at me in that way, it was just an idea."

She left me shortly afterward and I remained alone with my thoughts.

Velasia makes everything so easy.

Seduce him... how can I do it? And more importantly, would I wish to do it? 

My past experiences with sex have left me scarred. With Balbinus I was ordered to lie down on the bed and stay still as he rutted over me, keeping my eyes closed and hoping he would finish soon. My two lovers, while being gentler than him, never bothered to ask me what I liked and if I had found satisfaction. They just assumed that since they had been pleased, I had been too. Which was not true. I suppose this is not everything there is about sex, but I am not sure I want to discover the rest, no matter how much I like to touch Maximus' skin.

If I close my eyes, I can imagine my hands caressing all of him, while he stays still and lets me have my way with him. Indeed I cannot even picture him aroused, just lying there in my mercy. I cannot see him mating with me...making love with me. Is it a strange reaction? Am I imagining to exert over his body the control others used over mine and have him in my complete power?

These thoughts are scaring me, and I don't like them. I am not sure they have much to do with the love I feel for Maximus. But is it love? Or is it some twisted, perverse version of it? Something born by seeing him, such a strong man, so weak and needing help?

It is better to stop here. It is very late, I need to sleep and I won't be able to, if I do not cease to muse and ponder these unsettling matters...

Tibur, November 935 a. u. c.

All the household knows about Maximus now, but not because Velasia was not able to keep her tongue tied.

It was Maximus himself to make it public at lunch when, for the first time, he appeared in the triclinium and ate with the other soldiers.

It was not necessary for him to introduce himself - although he did - for it seemed all the household knew who he was. I wonder how many of the Palace slaves and servants snuck off to see the games as soon as it was known a gladiator had defied Commodus in the Colosseum. I remember the day I got the news from one of the gardeners and how that young man had been excited by the idea that a slave had rebelled against the emperor of Rome and how the crowd had supported him. Darius is highly excitable and I recall very well how my greatest concern back then was he might try to imitate that gladiator in the arena and defy Commodus in some way. Luckily it did not happen, and I never summoned the courage to go to the arena and see for myself this Spaniard everyone was talking about, although I rejoiced for his victories, especially after I knew more about him.

I spent the last hours betting with myself about who of the household members would be the first one to try to approach Maximus. I lost. I thought it would be Velasia and instead was Palinurus.

The boy is very daring and actually had the nerve to ask the if the general would like to spar with him! As soon as it was reported to me, I ran to the gymnasium intending to reprimand Palinurus for having been too bold, but when I arrived there, I found Maximus and the boy sitting in a corner, their heads bent together as the man was working on something. A closer look allowed me to discover he was creating a small wooden sword much alike the one I had seen the soldiers use for training, but obviously fitting a child. They also talked and I heard Palinurus laugh while Maximus smiled often.

It was evident the boy was not bothering him at all, and so I decided to not intervene, but watched in silence as they finally began to spar in the large room. And as I looked on, I saw Maximus was not simply indulging the boy - there was real joy on his face...although a couple of times, I noticed his smile fade to be replaced by sadness. I wonder if he thought about his dead son, the child Commodus had so cruelly killed.

Night has already fallen and it is time put away these tablets and go to bed and put an end to this day. I am not tired, merely annoyed with myself.

Few minutes ago I caught myself staring at the door, almost willing Valerius to open it to tell me Maximus wants my help, and I suddenly realized I have spent the entire day wishing for a summon or an invitation that never came.

I am disappointed and sad Maximus did not call for me this day. He does not need me as I need him and I must never forget it. Soon he will probably leave this villa to return to Rome and claim what is his. From that moment on it will be highly unlikely he will have the time to stroll in the garden with a freedwoman who let herself fall in love with him. It is my problem, not his.

And I must begin to prepare myself for the inevitable: he is not mine to keep and soon I will lose him.

Tibur, Late November 935 a. u. c.

Maximus summoned me this afternoon, but he did not ask for the touch of my hands, just for my skills as a scribe. However after several days of not seeing him privately at all, I was more than happy about it. He wrote again to the caretaker of his farm in Hispania, giving instructions about what produce was to be sold and what was to be kept and conserved.

As the last time, he paced as he dictated the letter to me, but not out of discomfort. 

Or at least not a physical one.

Sometimes I am scared by how well I seem to read him. 

Velasia, Fortunata and other servants who had now all come to know him says his face is always unreadable, that it is difficult to understand what he is thinking, but to me it is clear - or at least it is most of the time.