Emerita Augusta, Lusitania, spring 183AD

I

The first corpse was discovered the day before the Liberalia, the day when boys became adults and donned the toga virilis.

As the roads of Emerita Augusta were cleaned and decorated in preparation for the following day's celebration, a woman with a slashed throat was found lying in a pool of dry blood in one of the many alleys departing from the road leading to the forum.

Nobody cared much about her murder. 

She was a whore and the authorities quickly declared she had been killed by one of her clients, perhaps by someone who had not wanted to pay her, or by someone she had refused to service.

Whatever the reason, the good, dignified magistrates did not consider it necessary to investigate further, some of them believing the woman had somehow deserved her brutal death. And nobody, with the exception of a young town guard, noticed a thick lock of the woman's hair was missing.

It had been unevenly cut, as if it had been done in hurry, but the guard did not give it more than a passing thought, nor did he wonder if it was somehow connected with the homicide.

The second corpse was discovered on the Kalends of April.

It was another lupa, and she had been killed in the same way as the first one, with a deep cut to her throat. Again, a thick lock of her hair had been hastily cut- but this time the detail was noticed by the magistrate, who listened with a certain interest when a young town guard informed him about having seen the same thing on the first corpse.

The second murder raised a bit more attention in the authorities, for the victim had been a comely slave working in a brothel, and her owner had protested because of the loss of his property.

Some investigations were done, but gave no results, although the news of the murders spread among the whores working around the forum, making them more careful about the men they came in contact with.

The third murder happened twelve days later and this time the victim was not a prostitute, but a seamstress, a respectable wife and mother of four children.

She had been killed as she was returning home early in the evening, after having spent the whole afternoon at a costumer's villa to take measurements for several dresses. The modus operandi was the same of the previous times: a slashed throat and a missing lock of hair.

The victim's husband, Marcellus Veranius, a retired centurion turned carpenter, remonstrated with the guards and the magistrates, dragging in front of them his four teary-eyed children, and shouting  that he pretended to know who had killed his wife. The man claimed to have important friends in Rome and in the army, and the provincial governor promised to do all he could to discover the culprit, if only to avoid some pompous ass from the Capital from coming to put his nose where it did not belong.

Investigations were made and the path of the victim's last trip reconstructed, but none of the persons who had seen her walk toward her home had witnessed anything strange. No one had noticed if she was pursued or followed, and no suspicious individuals had been seen lingering in the area.

The whole matter remained enveloped in a mystery, as among the populace grew the fear for the Raptor Crinis (hair collector) and women started to avoid being outside as darkness fell.

And then, on the Kalends of May, the killer hit for the fourth time, but that evening his plans were thwarted and the intended victim was able to survive the attack, thanks to the help of a courageous passer-by...

II

The sun had already set and Mnesarete was walking quickly along the deserted streets, her green eyes alert about anything suspicious that might be hiding in the shadows, as she tried to remain always in the centre of the street, in the torchlight that bathed the cobbled pavement.

She was nervous to be outdoors alone now that darkness had fallen for, as every woman in town knew, there was a ferocious killer infesting the streets of Emerita Augusta. Going out alone was dangerous, but Mnesarete had not been able to avoid it.

Just after dinner, when she had dismissed her doorman and occasional bodyguard for the night, giving him a free evening to spend at the inn with his friends, someone had knocked urgently at the door of her house.

It had been young Didius, his breath hurried and his eyes wide with fear.

"What is it?" She had asked, immediately alerted by her servant of the boy's presence.

"Mother is very sick... she has been vomiting and losing blood from her bowels.... Please kiria Mnesarete, come with me, come with me!" Didius, a 7-year-old child she had helped to come into this world, had said between pants as, half-bent forward, he tried to regain his breath.

The boy had been truly desperate and Mnesarete had lost no time, throwing a cape over her shoulders and grabbing her ever-ready leather bag where she kept her medical instruments, before following him outside.

Ipsulla, Didius' mother, was no longer a young woman and her last labour, two weeks before, had left her weak and in sore need of rest- a rest she could hardly get with seven children to care for. Mnesarete hoped the boy had somehow exaggerated the seriousness of her condition, and cursed under her breath in the direction of Ipsulla's husband, a soldier who spent all his time campaigning, and when he was home in leave was only able to get his wife with child, only to return to the front when she most needed his help and presence.

Luckily Mnesarete's hopes had turned out to be right. 

Yes, Ispulla had been vomiting all day, and yes, there had been blood in her stools, but it was not caused by an infection, just something she had eaten had troubled the humours of her stomach and bowels. Mnesarete had told the woman to fast for one day and to drink plenty of pure water to balance her humours. As for the blood, it was not due to an haemorrhage, but to a fistula located in a very embarrassing place she treated with a healing salve.

Ipsulla had felt already better by the time the femina medica had left, after promising to return the following afternoon to check her progress.

Mnesarete let out a smile as she turned in the long road where her house and taberna medica was located, when a dark figure jumped out from the shadows and attacked her. She glimpsed a sudden movement with the side of her eyes and bent forward, thus avoiding the assailant's blade she had seen in the scarce light.

"Help!" She screamed as she tried to rush forward, but the attacker grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her in a dark alley.

"Help!" Mnesarete cried again, doubling her efforts to resist.

"Be silent, bitch!" hissed the man, giving her a push, before he tried to slash her again. He missed, but managed to cut a thick lock of her curly, chestnut hair, which fell on the ground.

"Help me! Somebody help me!" She screamed atop of her lungs and almost wept in relief when she heard steps come in her way. "I am here!" She added, biting the killer's hand when he tried to cover her mouth.

Her saviour reached the alley and, sword in hand, jumped on her assailant, hitting him with the hilt of his gladius.

"Let her go!" he commanded, his voice booming like a thunder, hitting the assailant with a punch to his jaw.

Her attacker did so, pushing Mnesarete away from him with such violence she landed on the pavement, a cry of pain escaping her lips.

"Lady!" called her saviour, rushing to her side, as her assailant used that moment to quickly pick up the lock of her hair he had cut and run away, disappearing in the night.

Mnesarete remained where she was, trying to regain her breath and stop her trembling, as her rescuer sheathed his sword and knelt down.

"Are you all right?" he enquired, his arm surrounding her shoulders.

She nodded. "I think so," she murmured. "Thank you sir, for everything." She raised her head to look at him, but in the scarce light she was only able to make out he was bearded.

"You are welcome, lady." The man smiled and she glimpsed the white of his teeth. "Here, let me help you to stand." He rose to his feet and she did the same, yelping in pain as she tried to take a step.

"What is it? Are you wounded?" The man's worried voice asked.

"I believe I sprained an ankle."

"I see. Well, tell me where is your home? I will fetch a litter to take you there and then will search for a doctor."

"No need, sir." Mnesarete smiled. "I am a doctor. And my home is one block away in this road. If you could just lend me your arm for a few steps..."

"Of course!"

III

With his arm wrapped around her waist, Maximus Decimus Meridius helped the woman to cover the road to her house. It took a little more time than he had thought, for the running he had done coming to the rescue had caused his right calf to cramp up.

Twenty months had passed since the day Commodus' sword had slashed him there, but the cut still bothered him.

"I am getting old," he muttered to himself, although he felt everything but old.

The man that, three years before, had wished nothing more than die after discovering his murdered family's remains, had disappeared little by little, as he had recovered from the wounds he had suffered during his last combat with Commodus.

Maximus had been healed, by time and good doctors, both physically and mentally, so much that he had found a certain degree of inner peace in coming to accept both his wife and son's deaths and the fact it was not yet time for him to join them in Elysium.

He could not say he was happy, but he was mostly satisfied with his current life, alternating his time between his farm, which he had brought back to its previous splendour, and Rome, where he served as the Empire's chief military adviser- a sort of supreme commander, as Lucilla and the Senate took care of the political side of the government.

His social status had been equalized to that of a member of the imperial family and he always travelled surrounded by guards - but not that night.

That night Maximus had been restless, and he had left the governor's residence, where he was lodging, for a solitary walk along the deserted streets near the forum, as he had pondered the problem that had taken him in Emerita Augusta.

Five days before he had received a letter from one of his former officers, a centurion named Marcellus Veranius, who had asked for his help. Marcellus' wife had been brutally murdered by a mysterious assassin the people had started to call the Raptor Crinis and who had already killed two other women.

Marcellus had informed him about how slack the town guards were in their investigations and, afraid they would not mind very much the death of a common woman, he had begged Maximus to come and pull his rank on the governor and the local magistrates.

Maximus had always liked Marcellus and, knowing all too well what it meant to lose a wife in such terrible way, had lost no time to ride to Emerita Augusta, where his arrival had raised a lot of anxiety in the governor.

He had asked to know all the details about the murders and enquired about what had been done to find the culprit and prevent him striking again.

"Whatever they did, it was not enough," Maximus thought, returning to the present and looking at the woman limping at his side.

In the torchlight he could see a lock of her long, curly hair had been cut near her temple, a sure sign the "hair collector" had acted again although, this time, he had not be able to kill his victim.

Finally the lady stopped in front of a door and said: "Here, we have arrived."

Maximus removed his arm from around her waist as she rummaged into her pockets and took out the keys, then he helped her to step inside a well-lit hallway.

"The first room on the right," she directed him.

Once there, the woman moved away from him, touring the place as she lightened the lamps, and Maximus discovered they were in her medical study.

The walls were covered by dark wood pieces of furniture from pavement to ceiling, the numerous shelves hosting both scrolls and series of vials, jars, jugs and bottles full of herbs or powders. In a corner was a table with a scale, a mortar, a pestle, a basin and pitcher full of water; near it, covered by a sheet, there was a birthing chair. On the other side there was a desk with what was needful for writing and a tray containing a small amphorae and four cups. Finally, in the centre of the room there was a tall bed with an equally tall bedside table near it. The place was clean and well kept and smelled of herbs.

Impressed, Maximus turned to face the woman he had rescued, looking at her with curiosity and respect.

She was tall and willowy, her visage regular and smooth. Her complexion was pale, with a handful of freckles on her nose and cheeks, and her hair was chestnut, with some shades of copper. Her hands were long and tapered as she unfastened the pins of her cloak. She tossed it over the desk and remained with only a white stola, stained on one side by the dirt of the road.

She poured two cups of wine from the amphorae over the desk and offered one to him. Maximus took it and in the same moment her green eyes met his own, he realized two things. One: the woman was beautiful and young looking despite the light lines around her eyes. Two: there was something familiar in her, as if he had already met her.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the cup and bringing it to his lips. It was not wine, but some kind of herbal infusion. The taste was strange but not unpleasant and he smiled at the woman.

"What is it, mistress...?"

"It is a tonic. It is good for tired minds or muscles. And my name is Mnesarete."

Maximus' eyes widened upon hearing that Greek name. 

Many years before he had known a girl bearing the same name...could it be possible? He narrowed his eyes, observing again each detail of her face, as the sense of familiarity became stronger.

"Mnesarete- she who aspires to virtue," he murmured.

Years before he had thought it an absurd name...now it perfectly fitted her.

"Yes," she smiled. "And may know your name, sir?"

Maximus tilted his head and said, a little teasingly, "Don't you recognize me, Mnesarete? We knew each other very well a long time ago."

IV

Mnesarete frowned at the stranger's tone. 

But was he really a stranger? His words seemed to imply something different.

She studied the man with more intent. She had already noticed he was tall and strapping. The wine-red tunic he wore along with a dark blue cape evidenced his wide chest and broad shoulders, while his high leather belt underscored his narrow waist. His arms and legs were muscled, his right calf marred by a long scar. His posture was straight, proud and full of authority. A soldier, without doubt- and a high ranking one.

No bell rang in her mind at this detail. She did not know any soldier. Yes, she had attended some of them along the years, but none of them could claim to have reached the level of familiarity this one seemed to have with her.

The man noticed her perplexity and added, "Look at me closely and imagine me without the beard."

Distractedly thinking he had a beautiful, rumbling voice, Mnesarete stepped closer to him and observed his face, which was as strong as his body. He had a dimpled chin covered by a well trimmed beard, slightly fairer than his dark, short cropped hair. His nose was straight and long, his mouth little and bow shaped. His eyes... As she stared at them Mnesarete thought she had never seen such a blue-green shade before. No, she corrected herself, as her heart started beating a little faster. She had already admired a pair like these.

They had belonged to a 14-year-old boy- to a very young man she had met a summer of too many years ago. 

Mnesarete looked again at the man's nose, gasping when she saw the small raised imperfection at its bridge.

Her eyes widened as the echoes of a long past conversation resounded in her mind.

"Maximus Decimus Meridius, I swear I will hit you with this stone straight in that third eye of yours if you say just another word about my freckles!"

"That's something I would really like to see!"

Mnesarete smiled at the memory and blinked her eyes, returning to the present.

"Maximus," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, "is that you?"

He nodded. "Yes, it is me."

She shook her head in wonder. "You have changed so much. I almost did not recognize you."

"You, instead, have not changed at all."

"You are very gallant, but I own a mirror, and I know I am no longer fourteen years old."

Maximus nodded again and commented, "It is almost incredible to think it had been twenty two years ago."

"Yes, that's true." Mnesarete sipped her cup thoughtfully, then she moved to the desk, wishing to refill it, but moaned as she put weight over her injured ankle. She had forgotten it and the pain was a sharp reminder.

At her moan, Maximus moved forward, reaching out an arm to support her.

"Do you want to sit?" he asked.

She nodded and with his help limped to a chair behind the desk.

"Do you need something? Do you wish me to wake one of your slaves to help you?"

"No, that won't be necessary." Mnesarete raised her left leg and putting her foot over her right thigh, she freed it from the sandal. The ankle was not swollen and twisting the foot with her hand she detected nothing more serious than a strain. She looked at Maximus, and met his concerned eyes.

"It is nothing a tight bandage and few days of not walking too much cannot heal."

"Good."

"Can you hand me a bandage? They are stored in the second shelf on your right."

Maximus picked the roll of linen and handed it to her. Mnesarete proceeded to wrap it around her ankle, then put on the sandal and took a few steps around to see if the bandaged was tight enough.

"See?" she teased Maximus, "It is as good as new!" He just smiled. "What about your leg? I noticed you were limping too."

"Nothing serious. It was just a cramp."

"All right."

Maximus looked outside the window, to the moon already high in the sky.

"I think it is best if I go," he said. "It is very late."

"Yes, it is time to go to bed."

"Do you mind if I return tomorrow with a magistrate? We must report what happened tonight."

"Oh, sure, no problem." Taken by the pleasure and the surprise of seeing Maximus again, Mnesarete had almost forgotten the circumstances in which they had met.

"Perfect."

Maximus nodded, then moved to the door. Mnesarete did not really want to see him go away, not because she was afraid to be alone after her bad adventure, but because she wished to spend more time with him. The memories of the summer they had spent together were emerging again one by one and she wanted to remember them with him, and to know more about his life. But, of course, Mnesarete knew it was not the right moment, and thus she could not do anything else but lead Maximus to the door, thank him again for saving her life, and watch him walk away until darkness enveloped him.

V

Later that night, lying in his bed in the governor's residence, Maximus thought about the events of the evening and the unexpected encounter with Mnesarete.

It had been a surprise, a beautiful one. As beautiful as Mnesarete herself.

Maximus could not even try to deny how fascinated he had been by her. Tall, elegant, sure of herself and in control of her emotions even after such scary experience. What a far cry from the girl he had known so many years ago! But was it really so? Maximus knitted his eyebrows. He had told Mnesarete she had not changed that much, and it was true, not only in her physical appearance, but also in her behaviour.

Maximus thought back to that summer of twenty two years before, when her father, Demophontes of Pergamum, had been hired by his own father to tend to the health of his ailing parents. Demophontes had just arrived from Rome followed by a great reputation as physician, but also by the anger of a senator whose wife he had seduced.

Maximus' mother had died a couple of years before, thus his father had seen no danger in bringing a womanizer under his roof, as long as he was dedicated completely to the care of his parents. Demophontes had accepted the task, for being hired by a former governor, a still influential member of the Lusitanian society was a good advertisement for his skills in the province where he had decided - or had been forced - to live, and he had moved to the farm with his 14-year-old daughter and assistant.

Demophontes and his girl soon proved their worth, for Maximus' grandparents' health improved under their tutelage, to everyone's satisfaction.

However, even caring for two elderly persons was not enough to keep the surgeon from turning his attention over to one of the farm's most comely slaves. Nor had it had avoided that Maximus and Mnesarete, the only two youngsters in the huge household, might find each other.

In the beginning they had clashed and teased each other all the time, mainly because - Maximus realized later - they had been both attracted by the other, but had felt uncertain about themselves.

Mnesarete's elegant, proud, womanly walk, had been the first thing to raise his interest, even if he had done of his best to make her miss a step or stumble.

Her fair complexion, so different from the local girls', had then intrigued him, even if he had teased her for the ridiculous hat she wore to prevent her delicate skin from burning. Mnesarete, in turn, would reply he did not risk a sunburn, for his skin was already as brown as that of the slaves working in the fields.

He had played tricks on her, in the hopes of seeing her lose her calm attitude, liking to make her angry- and needing time to understand why he had liked it.

In the darkness of his room, Maximus remembered with a smile how shocking it had been to realize it had been because of the pink-flushed cheeks, shining green eyes and heaving breasts Mnesarete got when she was furious. After that discovery, he had changed his way to approach the girl, and, having stopped acting as a boy, he had begun to behave as the man he would soon be.

He had ceased to tease her about her freckles, but offered to help her when she had gone out in the fields or the woods searching for the medical herbs his father needed, so she would avoid spending too much time under the sun.

Mnesarete had accepted, with a quickness that hinted how she too had hoped for a different kind of relationship with him, and soon their previous banters had been forgotten, as they had used all their free time to be together, helped by the fact Demophontes had been too busy with his job and the slave he had fallen for, and Maximus' father had been occupied with the harvest and his political career.

The youngsters had been left free to be alone, without guardians or old ladies always nearby, and in due time their reciprocated liking had turned in something different.

They had fallen in love, learning together to act as a woman and a man in a way none of their tutors had ever taught or could teach them.

They had leaned how to kiss, nibble and lick their mouths and their skin. Together they had taken their first journey at the discovery of the other's body, touching first, tentatively through the layers of clothes, then becoming bolder and bolder, their trembling fingers sliding under the fabric to caress and stroke and bare.

Mnesarete had been the first woman to see Maximus naked and aroused, and he had been the first man to touch her most secret places...

But, despite their longing and their feelings, they had not committed the ultimate act.

Maximus had always known that the chances he had to marry Mnesarete were practically none. He had been too young, still wearing a bulla around his neck, still a child legally. The army and a military career had awaited him and, as much as had wanted Mnesarete, he had loved her more, and would never have ruined her in that way. She was expected to be a virgin when she would marry and he could not compromise her.

So they had contented with pleasuring each other with their hands- until the day Demophontes had surprised them, naked and panting near the stream.

Maximus cringed as he recalled the beating his father had given him when he had been informed- the hardest punishment he had ever suffered in his life. He had taken it like a man, without crying out or trying to protest his innocence, well aware he had been playing with the fire all along and that he had now been burned by it.

Demophontes and his daughter had left the farm that very evening, while Maximus had been sent to the legions a year in advance.

"Since you are enough of a man to dishonour a free-born maiden, then you are enough of a man to start to earn your keep."  His still furious father had coldly announced him.

So Maximus had left for the army, heart-broken but determined to make his father again proud of him...and so it had been.

During his first year in the legions, Maximus had often thought and wondered about Mnesarete and what had happened to her. He had felt guilty in her regards, for he might have already ruined her life even without wanting to. He had wished very badly to have news about her, but there had been no way to get it, for the only person who might have known where Demophontes and Mnesarete were had been his father and he was not keen to tell him anything.

Then, little by little, Maximus had recovered from his grief and pain, and had been caught by the army life. 

He had discovered to be a very good soldier and had soon started to climb the first steps of a career that would bring him to be nominated make him the Commander of the Armies of the North, the empire's most important military post, at only thirty years of age.

His sexual life had progressed too, and after becoming a man with a courtesan twice his age, he had had a series of lovers, until Lucilla and finally Selene had given him the emotional fulfilment he had been craving.

He had been happy with his wife, as happy as he had never believed a man and a woman could be, and had often, if fleetingly, hoped Mnesarete and Lucilla, the other two women he had really loved, would know it with their husbands.

Maximus turned to lay on his side, and his last thought before falling asleep was for Mnesarete, as he wondered if his hopes had been listened to, and if her life had been a happy one.

Lying on her bed, Mnesarete was entertaining the same kind of thoughts.

Seeing Maximus again had been a shock from which she still had to recover. 

Along the years she had often wondered what it would be like to meet him again, and now that it had finally happened, she had almost failed to recognize him. But gods, how he had changed!

Maximus was now larger, broader and stronger than the gangling boy she had known and fallen in love with. The hairless, dimpled chin and jaw she had kissed was now covered by that well-trimmed, manly beard of his, and the smooth skin she had caressed was now rougher, bearing the signs of a life spent outdoors.

The eyes, however, had not changed. They were still heavy lidded, bright and kind as she remembered. His smile was the same too- it still had the power to make her knees shake.

Mnesarete closed her eyes, recalling her memories of their summer together. It was easy for her to remember that period, for those memories had kept her company for the past twenty two years.

They had been with her when her father had dragged her to Emerita Augusta, and practically locked her inside the house he had bought there.

They had been with her when her father had pretended she was examined to see if she was still a virgin as she had sworn to be.

They had been with her when she had been married to a man thirty years her senior- another surgeon, one of her father's friends, who, at least, had allowed her to continue her studies and her practice.

They had been with her during the many, long, lonely nights of her marriage, nights her husband had preferred to spend reading, deigning her of his presence in her bed only now and then. During those rare occasions, their brief couplings had brought her no pain, as it had happened on her wedding night, but also had failed to move her in any way, causing her to weep when he had gone away. She had cried out of disappointment and sadness, for she had remembered the pleasure, the rapture, the breathless expectation Maximus' touches had stirred in her, and she had longed to experience them again.

Her memories had been with her with her when her husband had died eight years before and she had decided not to marry again, but to dedicate her life to her profession and her patients.

Mnesarete sighed and wondered, with a hint of panic, if Maximus' wife was with him in Emerita Augusta and if he would take her with him the next time he come to visit.

It had been her father who informed her about Maximus' marriage, because the bride's father had been one of his patients, and the man had boasted the fact the famous legate Maximus Decimus Meridius, Marcus Aurelius' protégé, had chosen his daughter as his wife.

Since the man was not a politician nor a rich merchant, but just a farmer, Mnesarete had deduced Maximus had probably married out of love, and had willed herself to be happy for him, and to push away her envy and the egotistical wish to see him trapped in a loveless marriage as her own, so that he too would have found joy only in the memories. She had been ashamed by such feelings, which were unworthy of her and of the gentle, compassionate spirit Maximus had loved in her.

However there had been only so much Mnesarete could take, and thus, even if her patients had taken her to trips as far as Trujillo, she had never succumbed to her needs, and she had never gone to visit Maximus' farm in the hope of finding him there.

But he had never been very far from her thoughts, even during the time she had spent two years before studying and practicing in Greece and Egypt, and now, all of sudden, he had reappeared in her life. More- he had saved it.

Mnesarete shivered as she touched her hair, fingering the spot where it had been roughly cut, and flexed her injured ankle. 

It had been such a close call!

Never again she would go outside for a nightly visit without a bodyguard. The Raptor Crinis, as the populace called him, was still there, hiding in the shadows... She shuddered again, and decided to stop that line of thought, to avoid having nightmares. Instead she chose one of her favourite memories of Maximus - the day they had kissed for the first time - and fell asleep with the taste on his mouth still on her lips.

In another bed, in another room, in another house, another person was thinking about the events of the night.

He had almost done it- and then that bitch had screamed and that bastard with the sword and the ready fist had come in the rescue. 

The man massaged his jaw. 

It was a good thing he was bearded, for the facial hair would cover the bruise and he would not need to find an excuse to justify the mark.

In any case, nothing had been lost. 

He had taken the woman's hair, and there was no way his face might have been seen. 

His plan was proceeding as predicted.

VI

The following morning Maximus and Quintus Fabius, the magistrate entrusted with the investigations, went to visit Mnesarete's study, preceded and followed by guards, slaves and clerks.

The taberna medica was set in the street near the forum and a signboard with Igea, the goddess of health, alerted the passers-by of its presence.

In the daylight Maximus noticed the long bench that ran along the outside wall of the three-storey building, where, protected by a roof, several people were sitting and awaiting their turn to be visited. There were three pregnant women, two girls accompanied by their mothers or their guardians, a man with a bandaged arm and a boy nursing bleeding knees.

Maximus felt a bit of guilt about taking precedence over them, but while he would be willing to wait, he knew the magistrate would not. Thus he knocked on the door, gesturing to Fabius to stay silent and don't have his nomenclatores declare his name and office aloud. He knew many a person was wary of the authorities and always ready to presume the worst had happened when someone was summoned or received a visit from them. Maximus did not want someone might think badly of Mnesarete.

The door was opened by a young man with fair hair and serious expression.

"Yes?"

"We are here to speak with mistress Mnesarete. Please tell her Maximus is here."

The young man nodded and when to knock on the door of the room where Maximus had been the previous night. He heard a brief exchange of words, then the assistant reappeared and said, "Please, follow me. The domina will arrive soon."

Leaving their escort outside, the two men were introduced in a small, open triclinium and were offered some wine Maximus declined while Fabius accepted; then they were left alone.

The magistrate sat on one of the couches, as Maximus toured the place, observing it and discovering in the sober furniture and the simple floral frescoes on the walls the touch of Mnesarete's personality.

The sound of approaching steps made him turn toward the door and he almost gasped. Mnesarete had been beautiful yesterday night in the lamplight, but today she was simply stunning under the sunbeams that entered from the porch. Her hair looked more luscious and her skin more luminous. Maximus knews she was his age, and yet she looked younger than her thirty six years.

"Mnesarete," he said, bowing his head in salute.

"Maximus," she answered advancing inside the room.

"How is your ankle?"

"It is doing better, thank you."

"I am pleased to hear it. Mnesarete, this is Quintus Fabius, the magistrate investigating the crimes of the "hair collector"." Maximus introduced the burly man who, in a show of arrogance and impoliteness, was still sitting. "He wishes to hear your account of yesterday evening."

Mnesarete nodded and looked at the magistrate, who was doing nothing to disguise his boredom. Maximus felt a bout of irritation toward him. How it was possible that this man could be so passive, so uninterested when a ferocious murderer was free to kill and terrify the women of his town?

Mnesarete sat on a couch and Maximus took his place in front of her. She knitted her brows in concentration then, looking at Fabius, she began her story.

"I cannot say much about the man who assaulted me. It was dark and he caught me from the side. I was somehow able to avoid his blade and he tried to drag me in an alley. I resisted and struggled and he cut my hair...I screamed for help and then Maximus arrived and saved me."

Maximus looked sharply at the magistrate, who shook himself from his apathy and asked, "Did he speak to you? Could you recognize his voice?"

"He insulted me, but his voice sounded muffled."

"How was he dressed?"

"He wore dark clothes, and a hood covered his face."

"So you cannot tell us nothing of interest?" Fabius commented with a hint of sarcasm.

Mnesarete shook her head. "I am afraid not...except for the fact I believe he was left handed and somehow unprepared to meet my resistance."

"As if the previous victims had been easier to overwhelm?" Maximus enquired.

"Yes. I am strong but I cannot compete with man as far as strength is concerned and yet I was able to resist, although I don't know for how long I would have been able to do it, had you not intervened."

Maximus nodded in understanding but Fabius just yawned.

"That's all?"

"I am afraid so, sir."

"Then I will leave; more important matters await me." And with just a bow of his head, the magistrate stood up and marched out the room.

Mnesarete and Maximus waited till they heard the front door close, before he said, "I apologize for his behaviour. He treated you in an ignoble way, mostly because he does not like to have me at his heels."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You see, the third victim was the wife of a former centurion who had served with me in the army since I was but a boy. When he saw how little the town authorities were doing to capture the killer, he wrote me asking for my help."

Mnesarete shook her head. "For your help, Maximus? I don't understand."

"He thought I might use my position to put some pressure over the magistrates and convince them to do their job well, but, as you have seen, it is not working."

"I see. And what is your position?" She enquired, looking at his decorated cuirass.

Maximus lowered his head. He did not like to pull his rank nor to brag it if it was not strictly necessary. And more, he felt Mnesarete knew absolutely nothing of what had happened to him - or in Rome - in the last two years.

"I am the Empire's Chief Military Advisor. Basically I am the supreme commander of all the legions." He muttered.

"What?" she looked perplexed. "I have never heard about this office."

"I am not surprised. It was created... for me...when the Empire was re-organized to fill the void of power following Commodus' death."

"Oh." 

Maximus could see Mnesarete was thinking hard, and that there were many other questions she wished to ask, but it was not the right time.

"Listen," he said, "would you like to dine with me this evening, when you have finished with your patients? We will be able to talk at our leisure, and avoid the guilty feeling I have for making all those people outside wait."

Mnesarete's eyes brightened. "Yes, I would love to dine with you, Maximus- but only if you are my guest here."

"All right." He bowed his head in assent, then rose to his feet. "Now I will leave you to your patients." He smiled and sensed warmth spread inside him when Mnesarete stood up and walked to him, putting her cool hand over his bare forearm.

"I am so happy to see you again," she murmured, looking straight into his eyes. "I look forward to this evening."

Maximus tried to say something, but his tongue felt suddenly clumsy, and the only thing he was able to do was to put his hand over her hers, patting it and nodding at her words.

VII

Mnesarete found difficult to concentrate for the whole day, for she kept on thinking about Maximus and how it had felt to have his large, calloused hand over hers. Luckily, there was no serious problem among that day's patients, just a few pregnant women who came for a routine examination and some minor ailments she had cured with medicines and good pieces of advice.

When she was finished with the visits, she took a short litter ride to Ipsulla's house, to check on the woman as she had promised the evening before, and she was pleased to find her doing much better.

After that, Mnesarete returned home and for the first time in ages, she dedicated plenty of time to the care of her person, asking to her maid to try to repair to the damage done to her hair and to coil it in the latest fashion. Mnesarete believed she was too tall, too angular to be pretty, but there was nothing she could do change it- and then, after all, Maximus had liked her how she was, so many years before.

As her maid worked with her hair, Mnesarete studied her reflection in the metal mirror, critically observing her features. Her green eyes were bright, her skin smooth, aside from the lines around her eyes and on her forehead. Instead, there were no lines around her mouth, for after her marriage there had been a few reasons to laugh and smile.

No, that was not true. She had not been that unhappy. She had her friends, her job, her interests. She had led a good life and her husband had not hindered her career. To the contrary, he had encouraged her, and they had come to respect each other, both as persons and as doctors. But they had never been a happy couple, and Mnesarete had seldom felt that degree of joy that led her to break her reserved, controlled stance, and laugh and smile broadly... as she had done with Maximus.

Her toilette complete, Mnesarete went in the kitchen to check that everything was proceeding well, then moved in the open triclinium to wait for Maximus.

She had chosen that room for the air was pleasantly warm and scented with the floral fragrances coming from the inner garden. 

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock on the door, followed by Maximus' voice and steps as he greeted her doorman and walked with him to the triclinium.

Mnesarete almost gasped when Maximus stepped inside the room. He wore no uniform that evening, but a white tunic bordered in gold and a purple toga that fell perfectly from his broad shoulders. Only the imperial family could wear purple and she wondered again about this morning words. Who really was Maximus?

Mnesarete pushed the question away, and admired how the torchlight evidenced the strong planes of his face. He was so handsome. She had loved the boy and the promise of the man he would one day be- and now she was falling for the man he had become.

"But he is married," she sharply reminded herself, as she greeted him and invited him to recline on the couch in front of hers.

Maximus did so, arranging his toga so to be able to move his arms more freely, and smiled at her, indicating the room and the starry sky with a finger.

"This is a lovely place."

"Indeed. It is my favourite room. During the summer I spend every free moment I have here. Sometime I even fall asleep here."

"I know the feeling: there is nothing better than sleeping outdoors in the summer nights and to be one with the nature- as long there are no sudden storms!

They both laughed, then sobered as her servants brought in the dinner. 

They ate mostly in silence, occasionally commenting the food, and Mnesarete used that time to observe Maximus as much as she could without looking too bold. She was simply fascinated by his large hands and by how he used them to eat. He had been soldier for much of his life, but he had not lost the good manners taught to him at home. He ate with appetite, and honoured the dinner and her cook's efforts, but did not exaggerate as many a man does in front of a sumptuously laid table.

When they finished eating, Maximus reclined against the back of the divan and stared at her in silence, as he sipped from his cup. The cheerfulness he had displayed earlier in the evening had gone, replaced by a sober expression.

"So," he asked softly, "how has life treated you, Mnesarete?"

She had not expected such direct approach, but never hesitated to tell the truth.

"It has treated me kindly Maximus- or at least more gently than it does with many a woman. I was married to a good man who respected me and let me pursue my interest for medicine. I was able to study and improve my knowledge, to practice and learn at his side and to continue his job in this taberna medica when he died."

Maximus nodded. "Do you have any children?"

"No. My husband was thirty years older than me...and not very interested in visiting my rooms." Mnesarete lowered her eyes and so Maximus might not notice her frustrated longing.

"I understand," he murmured, looking away, also ill at ease.

"And you, Maximus? How did you come to be the Empire's Chief Military Advisor?"

"It is a long story- not always pleasant." He sighed. "Are you sure you want to listen to it?"

"Of course. It is your life, and I wish to know everything about you, Maximus."  She answered gently.

"All right. So everything started when...."

For the next hour or so, Mnesarete listened with rapt fascination as Maximus told her about his life.

He took it from far away, starting from his first days in the army, with the discovery that inside his country-boy's soul there was a natural born soldier, commander and tactician. Mnesarete felt proud as he narrated her about his successes and how his qualities made Marcus Aurelius notice him, and smiled as Maximus told her of the special relationship he had with his Caesar.

Then she swallowed hard when he told her about how he met and married Selene, and how he  believed that he had only become a real man the day he had raised his son Marcus in front of his family shrine, claiming him as the first born of his line.

Mnesarete tried hard not to feel envy for his wife, a woman that had known what it really meant to be loved by a man and gave him the son he deserved and adored. But she failed, only to feel guilty and horrified when Maximus arrived to the unpleasant part of his story.

In truth, calling it unpleasant was an understatement, for it was simply horrible.

Mnesarete covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her gasp as she heard about how Marcus Aurelius had wanted Maximus to succeed him, and how his son Commodus, upon learning his decision, had killed his father and sentenced Maximus and his family to death.

Tears poured, unnoticed, from her eyes when he described the horror of finding his house destroyed and his family burned and crucified, and she sobbed upon hearing how he was reduced into slavery and obliged to fight as a gladiator in a provincial arena.

The last part of Maximus' story caused Mnesarete to withhold her breath as she listened to how he had plotted against Commodus together with the emperor's own sister, to how their plan had failed, and to his account of that final, interminable duel, when he had fought feeling his life slip away as his blood poured from the wound inflicted to him before the combat.

"But I resisted enough to kill him, before I collapsed into the sand," Maximus concluded, his eyes clouded with a far away look. "I was mistaken for dead, but Galen, the imperial physician noticed I was still breathing and set his mind on saving me." He smiled sadly and stared at her. "In the beginning I was not grateful at all to him. I just wanted to die and join my family in the Afterlife, but then things changed, time passed and I started to look at life with a different eyes. Now I am happy to be still alive."

He fell silent and after a while Mnesarete cleared her throat and murmured, "It is a terrible story, Maximus. I am so sorry you had to suffer so much- I would not wish it on my worst enemy."

Maximus nodded slowly, pensive, then his expression brightened. "But I feel better now, and, as I told before, I have a job I like and that allows me to serve Rome and help Lucilla and the Senate, but also spend much time on my lands, allowing me to be both a soldier and a farmer."

"But you are alone...as I am," Mnesarete thought, while her heart came alive with the possibilities implied by that simple truth.

After that they were silent for a while and Maximus raised his head to look at the sky. "It is late," he commented. "I did not realize I talked so much. It is time to return to the governor's residence. I left my guards in the street and I am afraid they will be very bored."

"Well, it is better to wait in a street than face a barbarian horde- or not?"

Maximus smiled as he stood up. "Don't ask it of a veteran, you might be surprised by his answer."

"And you Maximus?  What would you reply?" she prodded, rising to her feet.

He returned serious. "That I have seen enough blood in my life. I don't want to see more." His eyes were almost haunted.

"I know Maximus, I know." Mnesarete said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, as she had done that morning. But this time he was quicker and he took it in his own, bringing it to his lips, where he kissed it.

"It is so good to talk and be with you again, Mnesarete. I did not realize how much I have missed you until I found you again." His eyes were bright with emotion, and unable to stop herself, Mnesarete raised her free hand to caress his cheek, as she whispered, "I, instead, had been aware of it every single day of my life, Maximus. I have never forgotten you."

Maximus let out a strangled sound. "Mnesarete..."

"Shhh... you don't have to say anything."

"But I don't want to talk..." his eyes darkened and before she was able to wonder what he meant, he took both her wrists, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

It was a kiss like those she remembered, and yet it was completely different. It was gentle and sweet like in her memories, but it was also passionate and demanding. A man's kiss, not a boy's. And she responded as a woman that knew what she wanted- the passion she had never experienced in her adult life - not as a girl overwhelmed by feelings she could hardly understand.

Maximus' hand let go of her wrists as he wrapped his arms around her back, pressing her to his body, so much she could feel the hard proof of his desire poke against her belly. Mnesarete moaned in his mouth at the sensation, her feminine answering to his potent masculinity, and she ground her pelvis against his, wishing to feel him more.

Maximus groaned aloud, then stepped back. They were both panting, their eyes wide. He ran a hand through his hair and whispered, "I am sorry, Mnesarete...I don't know what happened to me..."

She smiled weakly and shook her head. "You know, instead, and you don't have to feel sorry. It was the same for me."

He nodded, although he did not seem completely convinced.

Sensing it was not the moment to press the matter further, Mnesarete whispered, "We will talk of this another time. Now it is better you go- before the governor dispatches someone to search for you."

As she had hoped, Maximus relaxed at her little joke and nodded again. "You are right, it is really time I leave."

She led him to the door, and after wishing him good night, Mnesarete watched him go away with his guards, before sending a prayer to the gods and beg them to make that kiss the first of a long series.

VIII

That night, Maximus fell asleep very late, after spending most of the night awake, thinking about Mnesarete and reliving their dinner together and the conversation and the kiss that had followed.

The impulse to kiss her had been uncontrollable, the only way he could reply to her heartfelt words.

He had been saddened to hear her marriage had not been a happy one, but her declaration about how he had never been far away from her thoughts had moved him, touching him in a way he had not expected. Maximus had felt an unnamed, strong emotion grip his heart and the need to kiss her, the need to taste her lovely mouth again had overwhelmed him.

They had kissed and Mnesarete had responded to him hungrily, passionately, with a need even superior to his own, leaving him panting, aroused and confused.

Maximus had tried to apologize, for he was not used to letting his emotions control him, and he was not sure about how she would react now that the kiss was ended and the heat of the moment gone. But even as he apologized, his brain had not stopped to take in how lovely Mnesarete looked, with her cheeks flushed pink, her lips swollen and glistening, her breast rising and falling as she tried to regain her breath. It had been like those long past summer days...

As Lucilla had once said, many things change, but not everything, and after a night spent analyzing his emotions, Maximus came to realize he was again falling in love with Mnesarete, with the wonderful woman she had become. He felt the desire, the need to make her happy, to give her the love and the life she had not had with her husband.

"I want to marry her."

The sudden thought had crossed his mind in the heart of the night, making him sit up on the mattress, his eyes staring in the darkness. He had blinked and whispered the line, examining it in his mind, tasting it on his lips. The more he had turned the idea in his mind, the more he understood it was really what he wanted to do.

As incredible as it was, for two days before he had never imagined he would ever marry again, Maximus was now absolutely certain this was what he wanted.

He wanted Mnesarete, and was determinate to make her want him in the same way. He would proceed slowly and carefully, without pressuring her in any way, for he could not risk losing her again.

IX

The following weeks were among the happiest of Mnesarete's life.

Maximus came to visit her every day, often stopping for dinner or for a quick lunch. On a couple of occasions, when she had no patients in the afternoon, they went out together, walking along the streets of Emerita Augusta, strolling between the stalls and the booths at the market, or going to the theatre. Mnesarete enjoyed the play - she had always loved both comedies and tragedies - but that was the first time she resented the practice that forced women and men sit in separate sectors. She had not liked to stay away from Maximus, not only because she missed his presence at her side, but also because she could not hear his interesting or funny remarks about the play.

The time they spent together erased any doubt Mnesarete might still have. 

She loved Maximus. 

Again? Still? It did not matter.

What was really important was she loved the man as much as she had loved the boy.

She loved his intelligence, his quiet reserve, his sense of humour, deeply buried and yet always ready to come out. She loved the gentle anima hiding behind his stern soldier stance, and longed to erase, even if she knew it was impossible, all the pain and the grief he had suffered. She wanted to push away his loneliness, which revealed itself so strongly from his words and from the way he looked at the families they met along the streets. She wished to tell him he had not to be alone- that they had not to be so. That she was there for him, if he wanted her...But she kept silent, for she was unsure about how he would take it.

After that time in her triclinium, Maximus had never tried to kiss her again, or to even touch her, excluding the brief contacts as he steered her along the crowded roads. It seemed like he wanted to keep their relationship just a friendly one, and nothing more.

Mnesarete found different explanations for his behaviour.

One, he really did not know what had happened when he had kissed her, and did not want to lose his control again.

Two, he had been somehow frightened by his actions- and perhaps by her ardent response- and had decided to back away, as he learned to cope with his feelings.

Three, and this was the worst possible case, he was still in love with his late wife, and considered that kiss a sort of betrayal. 

Mnesarete did not know what to do. She was afraid of making the wrong move that would push him away from her. She just hoped that, however things would develop between them, Maximus would not disappear from her life once his business in Emerita ended. Now that she had found him again, she could not bear to lose him a second time.

Then, one day, about seventeen days after their first meeting, something happened to show her how unfounded her fears had been.

That afternoon was very hot and after a walk in that area of the city where the most important bookshops were located - a trip that resulted in Maximus purchasing her a rare copy of a treatise written by Galen she had long coveted- Mnesarete and her companion decided to take a bath in the public thermae, instead of waiting to return to their respective residences.

"So, we shall meet near this column," Maximus said in front of the entry. "The first one that finishes will wait for the other." His eyes suddenly darkened. "In another occasion I would bet I will be the first one to leave, but you are such a beautiful woman, Mnesarete, that you will have little use for the services of hair dressers and make-up girls." He then gave her a long, intent look and after a brief touch on her hand he disappeared inside the male sector of the bathhouse.

Mnesarete stood where she was, rooted on the spot, stunned by his unexpected compliment, as her brain wondered if it was more than a gallant line. Had Maximus finally decided to pursue the feelings awaken by their kiss? Had he resolved his doubts or confusion?

The sound of someone giggling and clearing her throat behind her, brought Mnesarete back to reality. She turned around to see Flavia and Claudia, her two best friends, looking at her in a strange way, their arms crossed over their chests.

Mnesarete frowned and asked, "What is it?"

"What is it?" repeated Flavia, a short, portly woman Mnesarete had helped to give birth to four children. "'What is it', she asks!" She snorted and looked at the tall, thin Claudia, who was pouting like a disappointed girl.

Mnesarete shook her head and remarked, "Forgive me, ladies, but I don't understand what is going on."

"What is going on is you have found yourself a stunning piece of male flesh as a lover and you have not said anything to us!" blurted Flavia.

"Yes! And I wonder how long it has been going on. Last week I came to visit you in the afternoon and your assistant told me you were not home. I thought you were out to check a patient, and instead I was told you were at the theatre- with him!" added Claudia.

Mnesarete raised her hands in conciliatory gesture. "Peace, ladies. Maximus and I are not lovers, just friends."

"Sure, of course. And I suppose it is normal that friends undress each other with their eyes," commented Claudia with irony.

Mnesarete's eyes widened in total surprise. "What?" she whispered, her throat tight.

Flavia and Claudia exchanged a puzzled look, then faced her again, their teasing expressions gone.

"Don't tell me you truly did not notice how he was looking at you?" Flavia said softly.

Mnesarete shook her head.

"Then you have really spent too much time alone, my dear." Claudia commented, taking her hand and patting it. "That man is head over heels for you, and I am sure you feel the same for him. Now you have just to rope him, you lucky woman."

Mnesarete nodded and murmured, "I hope so much you are right. He...he was my first love when we were both much younger, and now we have found each other again."

"Then what are you waiting for?" asked Claudia, coming closer to her. "You deserve some happiness, and life is too brief to waste a single moment of it."

"You are absolutely right," Mnesarete answered, feeling a new resolve rise inside her. Her friends had made her see the light. Life could not be wasted and it was time she made things clear with Maximus. She loved him, there were no doubts about it. And it was time to know if he loved her too.

X

When Maximus came out of the thermae, Mnesarete was already waiting for him, her back turned to him. He smiled when he noticed she had found the time to have her hair intricately coiled, in a way that left her lovely neck bare and begging to be kissed.

His body reacted to the mental image and Maximus almost groaned aloud. He had been aroused the whole afternoon by Mnesarete's presence at his side, as if the control he had over his feelings and emotions was reaching a breaking point. He was afraid he could not restrain himself anymore when with her. He wanted her badly, but not only as a lover, and was confused by her lack of signals about what she thought and wanted from him.

Maximus closed his eyes. Why did matters of the heart have to be always so complex? He sometimes envied those friends of his that were bold and direct in their approach to women. He, instead, had always been shy, reserved, afraid to be hurt- now more than ever, for his heart was so fragile after the loss of Selene and Marcus. He was one of those men who were stronger when they had a woman at their side, even if some people thought it to be a weakness.

Shaking himself, Maximus smiled and walked to where Mnesarete was waiting, chatting with two other women that formed an almost comic pair, being one tall and thin and the other short and round. One of them noticed him approach and whispered something to Mnesarete, who promptly saluted them and approached him.

She looked at him head to foot and smiled. "I see you too made use of the hairdresser."

He feigned a frown. "It is called barber, lady."

"Whatever the name, he did a good job... but on the other hand it is not too difficult with that luscious hair and beard of yours."

Maximus was embarrassed by her compliment. He had not expected it, so much that his mouth dried and he did not speak a single word as they walked to her home, both of them lost in thought.

Was her appreciation the signal he had been waiting for? Maximus hoped it was so, for he had decided he would make his move as soon as they reached her house.

Once arrived, Mnesarete led Maximus in the triclinium and dismissed the servants that had come to greet them.

"Do you want something to drink?" She offered, but he shook his head. Mnesarete poured some wine in a cup and brought it to her lips and noticed her hand was shaking. But why? Was she nervous?

Maximus became suddenly aware of the tension in the room, and decide to break it as soon as possible.

"Mnesarete, I must tell you something important."

"Maximus, I must tell you something important."

They spoke in unison, then stopped. Maximus gestured to her, "Ladies first."

Mnesarete nodded, breathed deeply and continued. "Maximus, do you remember what happened in this room after the first dinner we had?"

His breath caught in his throat. Was she referring to their kiss?

"If you mean the kiss, yes, I remember it. In truth it has never been far away from my recent thoughts." He answered with sincerity.

Mnesarete's eyes widened. "It is really so?"

"Yes."

"Then I can tell you. That kiss...and you... have been a constant presence in my mind and my heart in these past days." She took another deep breath before plunging on, "Maximus, I love you. I don't know if it is an evolution of our past relationship or if it is a new feeling or a combination of both. I just know I love you and I hope...I hope..." he voice died as her boldness seemed to vanish.

"And you hope I might love you back?" Maximus whispered, moving closer to her.

Mnesarete nodded, her too bright eyes locked with his.

"I do." He declared, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips. "That's what I wanted to say you. I love you, Mnesarete, with the impetuosity of the boy I was and the intensity of the man I am. A man that is alone and lonely and hopes you will agree to share your life with him."

"Do you mean a marriage?"

"Of course. You deserve knowing how it is to live with a man loving you... with me." Maximus took another step forward. "Please, marry me, and let me make you happy." The last words were murmured so close to her mouth Mnesarete could almost taste them on her lips.

"Yes, Maximus," she replied in a whisper, "Yes. I will marry you."

Maximus' eyes flashed briefly with joy, then darkened as they stared hungrily at her so-close lips. However it was Mnesarete who made the last step, bringing their mouths together. He wrapped her into his arms as he ravished her mouth, his tongue slipping past her teeth to caress and tease her own. She clung to him, pressing against his body and moaning at the feeling of his hard member.

It excited her, throwing her in an almost-frenzy, and she started to pull at his clothes, trying to bare him.

Maximus was caught off guard by her urgency and her passion, which was escalating even more quickly than his. 

"Shh, dearest....go slowly..." he whispered, but she shook her head.

"No, Maximus, I don't want to go slowly. I have waited this moment for my whole life." She grabbed his head and kissed him again, pouring all her need in it.

Her ardent declaration and her husky voice enflamed him. Maximus swept Mnesarete in his arms and asked breathlessly. "Where?"

"Cross the inner garden," she directed him between kisses, "my room is the first on the right."

He lost no time and less than a minute later he kicked shut the door of her chamber. 

He marched straight to her bed and deposited her in the centre of the mattress, kneeling at her side as he started to remove her clothes. Mnesarete tried to help him, but the languid shifts of her body every time he touched her made it more difficult.

When she was finally naked, Maximus sat back on his haunches to look at her. She was beautiful, even more than he remembered. Time had been kind with her and her breasts, while ripe and firm as they had been in the past were now fuller, the nipples erect and begging to be kissed. Her belly was flat and smooth, her shapely hips, and between her already parted legs stood the flower of her womanhood- the flower he would now be free to pick and enjoy.

With a groan of need, Maximus rose to his knees and disrobed, throwing his clothes down. He remained still for a while, letting Mnesarete study him as he had done with her, hoping she too would like what she saw. Maximus had never cared too much about the scars marring his body, if not for the fact each new one caused Selene to worry about his safety- an unwelcome reminder of how dangerous his life was. But now, in front this old and new love, he longed to look perfect, as Mnesarete was for him.

However, by the way she stared at him, he realized there was nothing to be worried about. Her eyes observed him with hungry interest, taking in the landscape of his body; then she raised them and looking into his own, she murmured, "Come to me, my beautiful warrior. I need you."

With a lusty groan, Maximus lowered himself and covered her writhing form, kissing her deeply, and thrusting his tongue in her mouth as his member longed to do with her body.

"Take me," Mnesarete urged him as soon as he freed her lips, but he shook his head. He wanted it to last and there were many things he wanted to do before he succumbed to his need. He wanted to touch, caress, taste, worship and make her speechless with pleasure.

Maximus rained her face with feather-like kisses, then moved down her swan-like neck, lightly biting the hollow where her pulse pulsed madly. He slid lower and took her proud breasts in his hands, cupping them and bringing them closer to his hungry mouth.

Mnesarete moaned aloud when he suckled and lightly bit her stiffened nipples and she arched her back, offering herself to him and rubbing her belly against his needy manhood, which was pulsing hot between them, craving the touch of the long, cool fingers he had known in the past.

It was then Maximus realized her hands were stretched out along her sides on the bed, her fingers gripping the sheet, and that she had never touched him.

Stopping his loving ministrations, he raised his head and called softly, huskily. "Mnesarete?"

She blinked her eyes, trying to focus them on his face. "Yes?"

"Why are you not touching me, sweet? You used to like to do it..."

Her eyes widened. "May I?"

"Of course you may. Why should you not?" He tilted his head perplexed.

"Well...I ..." she lowered her eyes. "My husband did not want me to touch him...nor did he ever touch me..."

Maximus frowned. "Do you mean he never caressed you? Suckled your breasts? Petted your womanhood?"

Mnesarete blushed, and shook her head. "No... you are the only one to have ever done it to me..."

He sighed, feeling saddened for her. What kind of man had her husband been if he had not been able to even appreciate her beauty? She had a body made for love, who could not see it?

"I am sorry, my love. But I will do my best to make you forget his treatment of you."

Mnesarete nodded and smiled shyly, as her arms rose to embrace him, then slid up and down his sides as she caressed him, enjoying the strength of his muscles and the smoothness of his skin. Her hands became bolder and bolder in their exploration, travelling along his taut belly to grasp his erection.

Maximus moaned low in his throat as her fingers wrapped around him, and Mnesarete's eyes flashed with joy and pride at the pleasure her touch was giving him. He allowed her a few strokes more, then lowered himself back atop of her and returned to feast on her breasts and the rest of her body.

They continued their explorations for several moment more, until Mnesarete's curious hand brushed a spot behind his testicles and bolt of energy ran along his spine, almost causing him to spill his seed.

Maximus groaned aloud, understanding he could not take more. He had wished to love Mnesarete with his mouth, but that particular pleasure would have to wait another time.

He spread her legs with urgent moves, and settled between them as her hips rose to receive him.

"Come Maximus, come..." she murmured, clutching at his shoulders.

He entered her little by little, giving her time to get used to his size and savouring the feeling of her wet, hot flesh enveloping him. He guided her legs to wrap around his waist and then started to thrust, as she opened to him more and more.

"Maximus..." Mnesarete moaned, throwing her head back into the pillow and offering her neck to his hungry kisses.

"Maximus...Maximus...." she chanted between her pants, her eyes wide with wonder at the sensation he was making her feel as his thrusts grew faster and harder, each of them accompanied by grunts and groans.

"Mnesarete..."

"Maximus... Maximus...MAXIMUS!" Her voice rose to a scream as Mnesarete reached her orgasm, the first of her life.

The sight of her face contorted with pleasure, her mouth open, her eyes squeezed shut, undid Maximus and with a last, powerful thrust, he let himself go, throwing his head back and roaring out his joy as he came in an almost endless torrent.

His arms started to shake and he gently lowered atop of Mnesarete, intending to rest with his face buried into her neck for few instants, before rolling away. However, when he tried to move, her arm and legs came up to stop him.

"Don't go," she whispered into his ear.

"Am I not too heavy?" he murmured back.

"Yes, but in a good way. You make me feel so safe...so loved..."

Maximus raised his head to look at her in the eye. "You are loved, Mnesarete, and I will make it clear every day of our life."

"And I will do the same with you."

She stretched her neck and they kissed, gently, slowly, languidly. Then Maximus pulled back, smiling at her disappointed look when his softened member finally slipped out of her.

"Don't worry, I will be back soon," he teased, "but not before you feed me a good dinner! I am famished."

"Of course, my love. You need to keep strong." she teased him. "I will feed you with nectar and ambrosia."

"Interesting. I never had them, but remember that also some cheese and bread would do."

They both burst in laugh, then calmed down, and looking deeply and affectionately, they quietly shared the joy that wondrous afternoon had brought them.

X

Late the next morning Mnesarete woke up sensing something big and warm pressed along her back.

Confused, she blinked her eyes and tried to understand what it was, until the memories of the previous day and night returned and she understood the source of the warmth.

Maximus was sleeping spooned behind her, his chest against her back, a robust arm wrapped around her waist.

Mnesarete smiled as her fingers gently stroked his forearm and she had to suppress the urge to giggle when she thought about what had happened in the past hours.

Claudia's and Flavia's talk and her own juvenile experience with Maximus himself had always hinted that making love was something special, but until then she could not have guessed how much. What Maximus had made her feel was simply indescribable, and she hoped he too had felt the same despite her lack of ability in pleasing a man.

"But I will have the rest of my life to learn how to please him," she mused, sensing her heart swell with love and emotion at the idea they would soon marry. They had talked about it late in the night. She would of course move to the farm, but Maximus was more than willing to let her continue with her profession.

"Trujillo needs a good physician," he had commented, "and I would never want to limit your life or to waste the skills you have acquired in so many years dedicated to study and practice."

Mnesarete had embraced him upon hearing his words and it had precipitated them in another bout of lovemaking.

A knock on the door recalled her to the present. 

"Who is it?" she said, not too loud, hoping not to wake Maximus.

"Mistress Mnesarete, it is me, Portia. Domina, there are several men- soldiers - outside. They are looking for General Maximus."

"The governor must be frantic if he has sent out soldiers to search for me," Maximus mumbled in her hair. "I am sorry."

"What for? I am not afraid for my reputation, if it is the reason of your concerns." Mnesarete rolled over to face him, feeling the soreness between her legs and welcoming it. "Good morning, my love." She added with a smile. He looked young and carefree, his face still sleepy and his hair mussed.

"Good morning to you, my dearest." Maximus kissed her nose. "How do you feel?"

"Wonderfully- as I have never felt." Her smile turned lazy and inviting, and he moved again, this time kissing her mouth with more intent.

Another knock on the door interrupted them.

"Domina, what must I say to those men?"

Mnesarete looked at Maximus, who nodded. 

"Tell them General Maximus is here, and will reach them soon."

"As you wish, Mistress."

They heard the maid steps recede, then Maximus sighed and, stealing a last kiss, murmured, "It seems our "breakfast in bed" will have to wait for another morning!"

About half an hour later Maximus appeared on the threshold of the porch where Mnesarete's servants had introduced the people who had come to search for him. Maximus was not overly concerned about having been discovered in Mnesarete's house, for he was proud of the feelings he had for her and could not wait to make her his wife.

Scanning the men's faces he recognized five members of his escort, plus Quintus Fabius, his scribe and two town guards.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he said, "Were you looking for me?"

"General," his men bowed their heads in salute.

"Good morning, General," said Fabius, "I am so happy to have found you." Maximus narrowed his eyes expecting some kind of sarcastic remark, but the magistrate continued, "I need your help, General. The Raptor Crinis hit again."

"No..." Maximus turned upon hearing Mnesarete's gasp, and without thinking he grasped her hand in support.

"The victim this time is a patrician woman with many ties with Rome. Lollia Metella, the wife of the Praetor Gnaeus Fulvius. I have come to ask if you would like to see the corpse before we move it."

Maximus nodded, "Yes, I will come."

"Me too," added Mnesarete, ordering her servants to bring her the palla and the leather bag.

XI

She was lying in a pool of blood behind one of the columns in front of the amphitheatre.

Mnesarete knelt and examined the woman. She had been young, about twenty years old, and comely, with refined features and a mass of chestnut hair from which a thick lock had been cut near her forehead.

There was no evidence of struggle. Her nails were long and even and her face - someone had closed her eyes - bore no sign of terror, just of surprise. Mnesarete checked the deep slash at her neck, then, taking one of her surgical knives, moved it in the air following the shape of the cut.

"What are you doing?" enquired Maximus, kneeling at her side.

"I am trying to understand how she had been hit. It is my opinion her throat-"

"- was slashed from behind." He concluded.

"How do you know?"

"I am not a surgeon, but have seen a good share of wounds in my life, enough to learn a thing or two."

"I see." Mnesarete tried to bend the victim's arm. "From the rigidity of the muscles I believe she was killed yesterday in the late evening."

"But what was a woman like her doing alone in the darkness? Why was she not accompanied by guards and servants?" Maximus raised his head and repeated the question to Fabius, who had come closer.

"I have talked with the husband before coming to search for you, and he could not explain what his wife was doing outside so late in the evening. However," the magistrate coughed, looking embarrassed at the general, "someone...well... whispers she had a fancy for gladiator, and that she had gone out to meet him."

Maximus' expression turned stony. "So she paid with her life for her infidelity."

"So it seems. However the Praetor is adamant it is not true, that his wife was a virtuous woman and he is furious with us for not having prevented the crime. He has even decided to offer a reward to whoever will be able to give us information about the murderer. The proclamation will be read in the forum this afternoon."

Maximus nodded and sighed. "Let's hope it brings some results," he commented, rising to his feet and helping Mnesarete to do the same.

XII

During the next several days, Maximus' hope was not granted.