Extracts from the journal of Aemilia:

158 A.D. Province of Lusitania 

I first noticed him one early afternoon when I was riding in our carriage towards the farm. He was leaning on a wall watching some wild ponies charging down the valley with a distant dreamy smile on his face. As the open cart trundled past, he turned and I noticed his startling eyes, even before I took in the rest of them. My husband was accompanying the wagon on horseback and he reined in to talk to him.

"Hey...are you Meridius' boy? Decimus?"

The boy nodded and drew himself up straight. "Yes, sir. You know my father, sir?" he squinted slightly against the strong sunlight and I looked at his face more clearly. He was a handsome rather than pretty boy, his face angular and his features too pronounced to be thought of as regular. But there was a manliness about him that made him more interesting to look at than the usual boy of that age. It may have been his square jaw and the deep cleft in his chin or the light growth of stubble on his upper lip and cheeks; he was already passed the downy stage and must be shaving, yet he didn't look much older that I was.

"Knew him well before I joined the legions. How fares he?"

"Good. May I know your name, sir, and I will commend him to you."

"Favro. Julius Favro. I was in his command; he vouched for me and got me in. Maybe I can do that for you someday. You planning to enlist?"

The boy's eyes fired up. "Yes, sir. Soon as I am old enough, sir.

"Good lad. By the way. Meet my bride, Aemilia." Julius indicated me and the boy looked up and acknowledged me with a shy smile and a slight blush. It was strange to imagine that he was probably about my age. I was a married woman. He was a boy still playing in the fields.

At that we drove on. I looked back and saw him watching us depart. There was something about his stillness and the gaze in which he held us. I had a feeling that he was a singular boy - but I was unsure why.

It was a few weeks later when I saw him again. My husband held a celebration to announce our wedding to the neighbours and he came with his family. My husband and his father were indeed friends, although Julius was the younger- he is almost thirty- whereas Meridius must have been in his mid forties, a handsome older man with a stern authority that gave way to a warm smile when it was least expected. There did not seem to be a wife; the father and son arrived alone on horseback, both excellent riders. It appears Meridius had been a cavalryman and it looked like his son would follow in his footsteps.

The boy was tall for his age, already shoulder- to-shoulder with his father. He was broad-shouldered and wore his clothes with a casual grace; his movements were spare and surprisingly confident in a boy of that age. Decimus didn't talk much although he listened well and when spoken to always had a polite and appropriate comment. Indeed he seemed a very nice boy - but somehow I felt that he was more than that too. An air of intelligence, even wry amusement, seemed to occasionally pass over his face when he forgot to hide it. I sensed a wit and humour beneath his quiet obedience.

It was later, in the early evening, when most of the guests were well loosened with drink that I walked out into the garden to take the air; the dining room was stifling. In truth I was bored of the others. I didn't know any of them and the other women were much older than I was. All day I had been sitting quiet as a little mouse on a high-backed chair next to my husband's couch while the conversation had largely passed me by.

Out in the terrace, I sat and played with my kitten Nivea and thought about my home far away. I was born in Olisipo by the sea and had been used to town life, lots of friends and a measure of freedom. It was hard to adjust to this remote estate and the new role given to me. With thoughts of this nature playing in my mind, I must have missed his approach, for he all but walked over me as he made his way out into to the garden.

"Pardon...I did not see you there." The boy looked embarrassed as he stumbled to avoid stepping on me.

"I shouldn't be sitting on the ground!" I giggled and scrambled to my feet, brushing my stola down. "Don't tell anyone you saw the mistress of the house in such an unladylike position!" I smiled.

"I won't," he answered softly. 

"You are Decimus, aren't you? Meridius' boy?" I added. He seemed to flinch slightly when I used his personal name.

"Maximus. My name is Maximus," he stated firmly. He was reminding me that I had no right to address a man with whom I had no personal relationship by his given name; a more formal address was required.

I laughed. "You are a child and I am a married woman. I don't need to be reminded of anything by you when you are a mere guest in my home."

His pale green eyes flashed. "A few months ago, you were playing dolls with little girls. Don't pull rank on me." He set his lips in a stubborn pout that made me smile; I knew he had more spirit than his quiet exterior had displayed.

"Calm down...I was only joking, Maximus. So how old are you? I was thirteen last spring just before my marriage. You still wear your bulla!" He instinctively touched the leather thong around his neck, the charm he had worn since birth and would not remove until he was fifteen - and blushed.

"I was thirteen at the beginning of the year. That makes me the elder."

"So when did you take a wife, then, dominus? I giggled.

He gave me a supercilious look that suddenly made him look older. "I don't intend to take a wife. I want to enjoy my life." And at that he smiled wryly and walked on down through the gardens to the stables where he began to organize the horses for their ride home.

A few weeks later we were in the town shopping and then planning to visit the small local amphitheatre for the gladiator games that were being held that afternoon. Julius, my husband, wanted to go to the palaestra where the fighters were warming up so that he could assess them before placing his bets. I wandered along behind him with my maid who held a parasol over my head as a shade from the midday sun and then the two of us settled beneath a tree in a shady corner.

On the other side of the great training ground were a group of schoolboys taking their exercise. It was amusing to compare them with the bulky gladiators whose muscular developed torsos were on display, much to the amusement of women who were hanging about lusting quite openly at the almost naked champions, their flimsy loincloths openly displaying the bulge of their masculinity. I felt a little heated at the sight and tried to avert my eyes - but some curious prurience drew them back. I have never seen a naked man in the flesh before.

The schoolboys were similarly displayed, of course, but they paled in comparison to the seasoned men. The boys were mostly gawky and skinny, hairless and slender, movements agile but playful, still more like kittens than lions. They were running about one minute and punching each other the next, throwing arms around a friend's shoulder in that way boys have and then slapping each other hard. I could see they were showing off but also knew that they were aware how they must look next to the adult men on display. They were purposefully larking about to hide their self-consciousness.

Then I noticed him. Maximus. He was rubbing sand in his hands to remove the oil from his palms with which his skin gleamed, before taking his place in the centre of the circle of boys to wrestle with an opponent. I watched him. He was not as tall as I had previously thought now that he was standing against some of the other lads, but he seemed to walk a little taller somehow, as if he were the biggest, with a quiet authority that made the noisy gaggle of friends quiet and wait expectantly for his first move. His body was much like the other boys- he was broader than some in his square shoulders but just as lean in the rest of his torso, with that hollow belly of a boy who eats and eats but never seems to fill his gangling limbs.

Maximus' skin was paler than some of the other more olive-skinned boys- his colour was golden rather than brown. His legs were shapely, not as thin and stick-like as his friends' and his loin-covering was clearly revealing the genitals of a man. There was golden-brown hair on his legs and arms and he looked, in this naked state, more manly than I had thought him to be on our earlier meetings- especially compared with his companions.

The bout commenced and the two boys grappled. Maximus was shorter by a head but clearly stronger- his upper arms were already muscular. His balance was sure and he was nimble and instinctive, using the other boy's lunges to set his opponent off balance. He threw him several times and then finally held him down, using his own body to prevent retaliation and his elbow jammed into his rival's windpipe to complete the victory. The decision was given and Maximus jumped up arrogantly and spun around grinning, his arms out as if to say, 'Okay, lads, who's next?'

The friends applauded but also cat-called him and made fun of his pride. Maximus merely laughed. One boy jumped at him and pulled him to the ground, another piled on and then the group was all rolling about like puppies at play. I smiled. They were just boys after all, aping the behaviour of men, showing off to hide their sense of inferiority to the dangerous fighters exercising near them who were attracting all the attention that day.

But not all. A group of young girls was gathered near the boys. They were low-born, the daughters of street vendors and shop sellers, allowed the freedom to wander that was denied to girls of my class. I estimated they were aged between twelve and fifteen, on the brink of womanhood, budding breasts and hair-styled like older women, flashing their ankles and their dark brown eyes at the boys. I caught a few of their comments.

"Woooo.... Maximus??? Want to wrestle with me?" shouted one saucy madam with thick black hair. Her friends all giggled and preened. Maximus looked up and blushed, scrambling to his feet, clearly embarrassed to be caught in play, as well as to be the subject of their appraisal.

"Got your lunch in your loincloth?" His tormentor carried on. I saw his face change. He was angry; his chin shot up and his mouth set in a pursed expression. His companions laughed. "Go on, Maxie...she's up for it...give her one..."

He shrugged them off and began to walk back to the changing rooms, ignoring the remarks that followed in his wake. "He doesn't know how, lads...he's got the tools but he's never used them...any of you want to show him how it's done?"

I felt sorry for him. He was only a boy and, although the girl was much the same age as him, I imagined she was no virgin. It was clear, however, that he was and his youthful embarrassment was touching, as was his reaction- so proud and unbending. But it had just made them laugh all the more at him. I shook my head. Somehow I knew that Maximus would one day have the laugh on all of them.

Later that day, in the small town amphitheatre, I saw Maximus and two of his friends again. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic, a belt round his waist, and a pair of leather sandals on his feet. It would have been easy to have mistaken him for just a lowly common boy had it not been for his straight-backed carriage and his confident air. It was in between performances and the boys were wandering about, obviously having bought something to eat and wanting to see more than the action on the arena floor.

They saw a few girls who were standing shyly by their older sisters; they appeared to know each other. I saw each boy latch on to one of the three girls and observed the mating ritual begin. The other boys with him were cocky and began to flirt with their partners, one even placing his hand above her shoulder and leaning in on her as he spoke.

Maximus, however, seemed suddenly ill-at-ease, his earlier swagger disappearing. He stood with his hands behind his back in rather formal stance, his legs akimbo, and his eyes wandering away from the girl before him. She looked down and blushed, obviously pleased by him, but as awkward as he was.

He opened his mouth and then closed it; looked down and frowned, glanced under his lashes at her and seemed to rake his eyes over her body and then up to her face. But as soon as their eyes met, he looked down again and reddened. I giggled to myself. He was hopeless at this. While his companions were charming their ladies, Maximus hadn't even said hello.

Next he began to fidget, scratching his head, running his fingers through his short cropped hair, adjusting his belt, blinking, biting his lip. Mentally I was willing him to say something- anything- and was sure the young girl was too. She was still blushing and casting her eyes down but her interest in him was palpable even from this distance. Just then the older girls were joined by their young husbands or betrotheds and the youths chased the boys away with a curt dismissal. "Get lost...leave these girls alone, you little bastards..."

The two boys shouted back with a cheeky profanity before winking at their girls and walking off, with a few backwards glances and waves from them. Maximus bowed his head slightly and backed away. As he turned, I saw him grimace and the muttered "Futum!"(fuck!) under his breath. He was angry with himself for wasting a chance to get to know a girl he must have liked. Poor Maximus! But I knew his time would come. For all his impressive gifts, he was still an innocent- but his natural curiosity and the desire for a woman was stirring his imagination. I imagined he would dwell on this experience at some length and make sure he was more prepared the next opportunity with which he was presented. For there was something in his manner that made me think that he was constantly learning and assessing the world around him, ready to bend it to his will.

I had been wandering in the fields with a few of the slaves, ostensibly gathering mushrooms and wild herbs, but really just happy to be out of the quiet confines of the house and running wild in the long grass. It was another perfect day, hot and cloudless, high summer. We were all thirsty and the sound of running water told us that the stream was close; we intended to paddle our dusty feet and drink some cool mountain water. One of the maids had a little basket of bread, cheese and fruit; it would be a satisfactory little repast.

Giggling, we raced each other down the banking to the escarpment above the stream, intending to scramble down the slope in a most unladylike fashion but, as we neared there, Galatia, the eldest of the slaves, a girl of about sixteen, stopped and put her hands on her lips as if to warn us. We all froze in our places. Although this is private land, the estates are not far from the mountains and occasionally undesirables move through the territory. Three lone girls would be easy picking for some marauding tribesman or an army deserter.

Falling to the ground, we wriggled on our bellies to the edge and took a look at the danger. Down below we saw a horse splashing in the stream, shaking its head and tossing water around, grateful as we would have been, for the relief of cool on such a baking hot afternoon. Lying there, noses pressed to the coarse grass, the hum of insects and the dart of lizards about, we watched for signs of the owner.

He soon emerged. Maximus suddenly surfaced near the opposite bank; he must have been swimming under the water as we approached. Galatia repressed a grin- it was obvious she has seen him as he had stepped into the water and was making a rather rude motion with her hand. I showed disapproval at her forwardness, but my eyes returned to the sight of the young boy in the water.

He lay for while on his back leaning on the bank, kicking his feet idly and lazing in the sluggish stream. The water levels were down after so long without rain and where there was a torrent of melt water in spring, there was now a mere trickle in comparison. Just then, Maximus rose to his feet and an involuntary gasp came from the other two, who put their hands over their eyes- but kept their fingers apart.

Maximus stood in the water, waist deep and poured handfuls over his short dark hair, shaking himself like a puppy. He called over to his horse, who nickered and then splashed over to him and I watched as the boy fondly caressed it, wrapping his arms around his beloved mount and then laughing as the horse licked his face. It was a sweet and innocent scene. Then taking her by the reins that dangled down into the water, Maximus began to lead her back towards the bank where we were.

As he neared the shallow water, more and more of his body was revealed. I saw the slender lean muscularity that was replacing the babyish chubbiness of his younger years and saw that his body was beginning to grow hair- there was a thin line of dark brown that ran down his flat belly. He stepped out of the stream and revealed himself completely - the scruff of his pubic hair and then his cock and balls displayed. I blushed but stared pruriently at the boy. But he wasn't really a boy at all. I had seen little boys running naked about and knew what their little manhoods looked like, but Maximus was not formed like that, despite his youth. He was already a man in that regard.

Having never seen a naked man before, I was unsure whether he was unduly blessed or if this was normal, but to me, with my vague knowledge of what would take place eventually between Julius and myself, it was thrilling and exciting. But this secret knowledge also scared me as I realised how different a man was than a woman and what it might mean to lie in his arms while he took possession of me.

"Look at him....he is a big boy...imagine when he's fully grown!" Galatia snorted. Ana giggled in reply.

"Shushhh! He will hear you!" I reminded them. And at that moment Maximus did look upwards as if he had sensed something. He did not appear to see anything untoward fortunately for he carried on dressing and was soon decently attired in his loincloth and brown tunic. Shortly afterwards, he walked off through the trees, leading his horse behind him. We waited until the sound of the hooves beating down the undergrowth had receded and then laughing openly now, making eyes at the memory of our voyeurism, we scrambled down, slipped out of our house tunics and plunged into the cool stream.

Galatia and Ana wandered off down stream after a while following a butterfly and I climbed up onto a rock where I dried off in the sun, combing through my long dark hair with my fingers and singing to myself. The dappled sun was streaming through the canopy of leaves and I felt the soporific ease of a hot afternoon. Closing my eyes, I stretched out and dreamed, floating somewhere between half- sleep and reverie.

Just then I was aware of a shadow across my flickering eyelids and I opened them with a start. I found myself looking into the pale blue-green eyes of Maximus himself. Jumping up and frantically searching for my dress which had slipped onto the floor, I tried to cover my nakedness with my hands; I was clad in only a flimsy loin covering. "How dare you spy on me!" I shouted.

Maximus reached down and picked up the tunic that was at his feet. He handed it to me but did not take his eyes from my body. I could see them traveling down and the rapid blinking as he gazed on my breasts, now blush pink with embarrassment and on down to my scarcely covered groin and naked legs. I was not the only one who reddened.

"I...I did not mean to startle you! I heard a noise and thought someone was watching me so I circled back to ensure that I wasn't going to get a knife in my back." He spoke softly and with a quiet determination, even though he was clearly rattled.

"Turn your back then if you have any refinement at all!" I snapped in reply, already aware that he must have realised that the noise he had heard earlier was probably me observing him in an equally intimate moment.

He obeyed and stood with his hands behind his back; I saw his fingers flexing and drumming nervously, as if he wished he could do something, anything else, with his hands than this.

"And is it refined for ladies to spy on boys?" His voice stole over me as I slipped my tunic over my head and covered myself.

"What do you mean? I did no such thing!" I argued back.

"I beg to disagree. I believe this is yours? I found it on the top of the slope up there from where the noise originated..." He took something from his belt. It was a plaited cord with which I had secured my hair.

He turned back slowly and placed it in my hand, while I looked away in shame. "We came upon you. We did not know you were..." I paused, unwilling to continue.

"...naked? Nor did I know that you were. I apologise." He nodded briefly and strode away towards the trees. Just as he was about to disappear through the foliage, he looked back at me with a different expression. He appeared older, more mature. "Take care, my lady. There are men who would not simply return your hair ribbon had they found you like that. You are no longer a child to play games in the woods."

With that chastisement, he slipped away and was gone. I sat on, still shivering from the shock of discovery. He had seen me almost naked and he had been moved by it whatever he implied. As innocent as I was, I understood the tell-tale signs of his eyes and his high colour, the slight halting in his speech and the hand held awkwardly over his groin. Young Maximus had been aroused by what he saw, no matter how he sought to hide it from me. The idea suddenly appealed to me - but I chased the unworthy thought from me. He was a boy and I, a married lady, even if his junior by a few months in age and just as much a virgin as he was.

Our paths crossed once more that year. It was in unhappy circumstances.  Maximus' father had a tragic accident whilst out hunting a pack of wolves that had been troubling the area throughout the winter season. A party of men from the district had set out and ridden for four days before cornering them in a narrow mountain gully. Meridius had then gone after the alpha of the group and found himself separated from the others who were putting short work to the rest. This wolf, the leader of the pack, was a huge monster of an animal and, when he realized he was trapped, he had turned on his pursuer. Meridius had been cruelly savaged.

Julius was shattered by the news about his friend and mentor; it was the first time my husband ever really confided in me. I remember I had been rather shocked by the extent of his emotion. But more was to come. Apparently Maximus had noticed that his father was missing and not with the other men, so he had climbed further up the mountain, following the tracks in the snow of man and beast. It did not take him long until he came upon the gruesome sight of the starving, injured wolf, feeding on the carcass of his dead father. The boy went mad with grief and rage and launched himself on the wolf with nothing but a knife as weapon.

By the time the others reached them, alerted by a horrific roar of anger and the yelping of the animal, they found the boy had wrestled with the wolf and ripped its belly open; Maximus was lying in a thick pool of mortal blood under the dead beast. The boy was injured- he must still bear the scars of the claws that raked the skin of his thigh until it exposed bone- but he was alive and conscious, still shaking with a mixture of wild rage and bitter grief. The older men packed his wound with ice to numb the pain and then had bound it tightly but all the boy had said was," My father...my father...save his body...he must be buried with full rites..."

Julius had returned to the dead wolf to take its skin for the boy- he had earned the right- and, as an afterthought, dug out one of its cruel teeth. It was a week before they returned to the area having to linger until Maximus was fit for a long journey- and even then he was white and feverish when Julius brought him to our house. For days we nursed him carefully, preparing fresh poultices to clean the infected wound - there is nothing else as noxious as a wolf - and then herbal infusions to lower his fever, and nourishing broths to give him strength. He probably should have died- many men would have done in that position - but he was a healthy boy and possessed a will of iron that would not allow himself to be defeated. And so he recovered.

Once the worst of his injuries were on the mend, his progress was rapid and he became bored lying in bed all day, eager to be out and about. We had kept him at our house, aware that the memories of his father would detrimental to his recovery should he be left to his slaves on his own estate. Maximus was quiet and subdued throughout his illness, polite and grateful to us for our assistance, but reluctant to discuss much. One day, after he had begun to place weight on his leg again and had struggled out onto the veranda on a crutch, I came and sat by him to offer him some company.

"Maximus- it is good to see you up and about! Would you like me to read to you?" I had often read to him in the days when he was bed-bound and he had been in a lot of pain; it had seemed to take his mind off it.

He shook his head. "I am heartily tired of books. It is activity I need. These endless days are very trying for me," he admitted with a shy smile. "Not that I am not grateful...but..."his voice tailed off. He was melancholy and I did not blame him. He and his father had been very close and he must have felt the loss acutely. He was only a boy and now had to face the responsibilities of a man, alone against the world. It had not even been granted to him to send his father's remains into the next life- he had been too sick when the obsequies had taken place and his father's ashes had been interred without his son's presence at the ritual.

"I am very sorry for your loss, Maximus. We are all so sad. Julius loved your father..."

Maximus nodded but drew himself up and answered bravely. "It was a soldier's death. He would not have wanted it any other way. I envy him that- would that when my time comes I can die with such courage and speed." He looked down and took a deep breath; the words were those of a man, but the sob he choked off was for the lonely boy inside, abandoned by fate.

"What will you do?" I asked, placing a hand on his arm gently; he did not shrug it away.

"I will enlist in March if your husband will vouch for me. I am fairly young but there is always something a boy can do and I am tall for my age. I am also a skilled rider. They will not turn me down with good references. My father was a highly respected officer." It was the wisest choice for him. His estate would be cared for by the slaves and the supervision of the men of the district; Maximus had friends here and would not be deprived of his patrimony. He needed to be safeguarded by an institution like the army until he was a man so that he could be taught to fulfill his role in life; he would not learn all that in this backwater with only slaves to guide him. I still felt sad, however, to imagine his future. A soldier's life is hard and lonely for any man, but not to have anyone waiting for you back home was doubly cruel.

"My husband has already written to his former legionary legate informing him that this might come about. You will have no trouble."

Maximus smiled and thanked me. There was a moment then when the conversation stalled and I picked up a pair of figurines that were placed on the arm of the chair by him. They were carved of ivory and shaped as a woman and a boy. "What are these?" I asked curiously.

"My father's. It is my mother and myself. He carried them when he was on campaign and it is all I have left of my family now. They are together and I must carry on. But I shall honour them all the days of my life." It was such a moving statement from one so young and my eyes stung with tears at the bravery and devotion of this extraordinary boy. How his father must have loved him! How the gods have favoured him!

"They were lovers all their lives," he continued.  My father never looked at another woman, apart from relief, after my mother died. One day, I hope I find that love in my life. I will never accept anything less."

I think he must have seen my face, for he suddenly realized that his words were perhaps ill-judged to be spoken openly before a woman. "I beg your pardon, mistress. I did not mean to speak so freely..."

I held up my hand to stop him. "Say what is on your mind. You have to have someone you can talk to- or you will go insane. No one can live entirely without support, Maximus."

His eyes danced for a moment; it was good to see the spark back. "You are wise for your age, Aemilia. Wiser by far than I. But then you are a woman and I but a boy."

I held his hand in mine. "Let me tell you something. I am a married woman but I am still a girl. Julius is a good and kind man and he is aware of my innocence. He wants us to know each other as friends until we are ready for...the commitment that a man and women must make with their bodies..."

He turned his head in surprise and frowned. "You have not...? You are still a...? Is that allowed? I thought that you had to...?"

I grinned. "I do not know what the old wives would say, but my husband has his own way of looking at life. I love him for that more than he could ever understand - and am more than ready to be what he needs, whenever he should ask it of me. But he will make that decision, and I shall wait patiently until he feels that I am old enough to be his bedmate and the mother of his children." Even though I was blushing deeply, I was glad I had someone to whom I could tell this secret that had lain between me and my dear Julius.

Maximus nodded thoughtfully. "There is much that I need to know about men and women still. But the examples I have heard give me much to dwell on. I hope I am such a man as my father - and your husband. I swear that no woman will ever suffer at my hands."

I thought then how lucky would be the women who received this boy's love - whether as a lover, a mistress or a wife. He had no need to worry that he would fail to live up to the men upon whom he had styled himself. In truth, I suspected he would one day rise far above any man I had ever met. I thanked the Gods that I had had the privilege of knowing him.

Before he rode away, two months later, Julius held a dinner in Maximus' honour and presented him with a cloak made from the pelt of the huge wolf he had slain. He also gave him the tooth, now threaded onto a leather thong, telling him that it should always be worn as a talisman. Maximus had been clawed by the wolf and he had lived; the spirit of Rome, the milk of the she-wolf, ran through his provincial veins now, too. He was marked out for great things and would one day fulfill the promise shown here in the gods' favour of him.

171 AD Province of Lusitania

He had been thirteen when I had first met him and it was another thirteen years before I ever saw him again, after that last morning when he rode away to his life as a soldier. Much had changed in the interim. I had grown up and had given my husband five children, the youngest still a babe at my breast. I heard of Maximus Meridius off and on over the years; my husband kept a keen eye on the lad's progress- and it was impressive. By his early twenties he had worked his way up in rank during the bitter struggles of the Eastern front against the German tribes and was now a cavalry legate- almost unprecedented to be at such a level of command at his tender years, so Julius claimed. His contacts wrote that Maximus was a fearsome warrior who fought like a wild beast in the fray but was unusually compassionate to prisoners and tribespeople. But if it was required of him, he would do his duty and never look back. He inspired men by his very presence on the line, even before he opened his mouth: all-in-all he was a consummate leader.

We were not surprised.

Maximus had rarely visited his home in all those long years; in truth there was little to bring him back. Once or twice we had news that he was in the area, but he did not seem to socialise over much. The only time Julius had met him in all this time was whilst I was confined to bed of a daughter and I had had to rely on his report back to me later. My husband said Maximus was much altered. A powerful, muscular warrior with a swarthy and weathered countenance, battle-scarred and hardened, had replaced the serious youth we had once known. But, Julius said, the integrity and nobility of the man still shone through. He was witty and intelligent, but guarded and shrewd. Time had taught him to be wary but had not dampened the fine gifts that he had been granted.

But I saw him again today. We were in the town for a festival day. It was the first day of September, the feast of Juno the Queen, and we were bringing our youngest child to the temple of the Mother for a blessing. As we halted our carriage, I noticed a strikingly attractive man standing by a goldsmith's shop across the street, fingering a trinket in his hand, before slipping it into a little leather pouch and then pocketing it. At that moment he looked up and I would have recognized those eyes anywhere. Memories of him came flooding back and I saw again the boy within the impressive man.

Maximus was no taller than I remembered him but he had filled out; gone was the slender boy. He was now broad and muscular, his neck thick, his chest powerful, his hips lean. I noticed his mighty arms ruffled with hair, large hands calloused, his shapely legs well displayed in the short riding tunic he wore- years of riding long hours in the saddle had honed and hardened his thighs and calves. Everything about him said 'man'; he must have been turning the head of every woman in the street - of all ages. That thought made me look about and I was correct. I could see the sly glances from behind veils and hands given by the decent matrons and their winsome daughters and the more open come-ons from ladies of lesser virtue. Maximus glanced around but gave no encouragement; he was obviously used to female attention and paid it little mind. It seemed he had come a long way from the shy boy who could not even talk to a girl!

I pulled on Julius' arm and pointed Maximus out, hoping that he would call him over. "Look, is that young Maximus?" I asked.

"By the gods - it is! Not so young now, hey? Max! Hey, Maximus! Come over here, you wretch! Why do you never come visiting?"

Maximus looked up sharply and a wide grin cracked his stern face. I saw his younger self so clearly now, despite the close trimmed beard and the neat soldier's hair. "Julius! Well met!" and he strode over to join us, his walk enough to clear a path through any crowd; it spoke of arrogance and confidence- a man who was used to respect and deference. The two men embraced until my husband pulled away to hold him at arm's length. "Let me look at you! You're not getting any prettier as the years go on, are you?" he remarked with a laugh. How like a man to miss what even little maids could sense!

Maximus smiled. "Fortunately in my career, looks are an added extra,' he grinned with a slight tilt of his head. "And who are all these little ones!" he turned his attention to the gaggle of children in the carriage who were all staring bug-eyed at this big man.

"My family. Julius junior, Aulus, Aemia, Marcia and little Quintus. And of course, you know my wife, Aemilia?" Maximus ruffled heads and bowed to my daughters- and then looked up to where I was sitting. For a moment he almost frowned as if trying to recall me. I was not surprised. He had last seen a thirteen-year-old girl and now I was a mature matron, my hips well spread and my figure long ruined. I must have looked like an older woman to him already, although we were of course very close in age. But for a man of twenty six summers, a woman of that same age is someone whom he would barely notice- especially after she has borne five children in quick succession and has a healthy taste for food.

"Aemilia? Yes, indeed. Of course, Aemilia...you were a young bride. We met a few times. Once in forest, as I remember?" His boyish grin and the slight arch of his eyebrows delighted me. He remembered- and he was still gentleman enough to flirt with me, although the effect my body had had on him that day and the one it would have had today were vastly different. But I loved him for his charm and that little touch of devilment that had always existed in him beneath the stoic composure.

"Yes, that was I," I smiled shyly back. Julius seemed not to glean the under current in our words and continued blithely on:

"So, Max, what brings you back at this time of year? September...campaigns are hardly finished?"

Max turned his attention back to Julius. "I was injured a few months ago. Nothing too serious but I'm invalided off until spring. Then I take up a new position. Got my own legion. One of the Felix."

"Full legate? No more with the horsies? That is marvelous news- how your father would have been proud of you!" Julius pumped his hand in congratulation. "So...won't we seem a little boring back here in the sticks for the great General Maximus?" My husband teased.

Maximus scratched at his hair. "Well...I'm more than ready for a shot at boredom after the last few years, frankly, and I want to wash the blood off my hands with some honest toil. But, I have another task to accomplish that is quite as pressing as my career..." At that he blushed and looked down towards his feet.

"And that would be?" Julius asked, but his grin suggested he had already worked it out.

Maximus coughed and suddenly appeared a little uneasy, stepping from one foot to the other and playing with the neck of his tunic. "Last year I was here for a while...and I met a young lady at a dinner...she...er...I was rather taken...and I wondered if she was still free...and apparently...she is..."

I recalled the innocent tongue-tied boy and rejoiced that to see in matters of the heart he was still as shy as ever; even if in matters of the flesh I was sure he was a master by now. "You have asked this girl?" I blurted out.

He grimaced slightly. "Well, her father has no objection...in fact he was delighted...but I have yet to ask Serena herself and am planning to go this afternoon and...I bought a piece of jewellery...would that be seemly?" His open question surprised me in a man so self-assured but then- how much familiarity did he have with such matters as romance and wooing a lady?

We both smiled at him. "I think she would be a fool not to snap you up and if I know women, she is already hanging by the gate waiting for you to call. I wish you joy and a speedy marriage. It is a blessed state and one all men should enter!" Julius smiled across at me and I returned his affection. He was right. How we had changed each other's lives and what a reward such happiness is for any man and woman!

Maximus bowed slightly. "Then I shall not delay. In truth I am feeling rather nervous and out of my depth. Serena is young and innocent and I fear I shall frighten her; I am such a dunce with pretty words!"

"Tell her straight, give her your smile and she will be hooked- and then ride past our estate later and drop in for a drink and dinner...good or bad news  will be all the better for being taken with a jug or two of my best red wine!" Julius slapped him on the back and Maximus gave him a look of doubt. "And I swear that in a few years' time, here you will be with a little gang of your own babies, just like us!"

At that thought Maximus rolled his eyes and took his leave, with a promise to see us later and share his good news, if such it should be. And of course, it was....

184 AD The province of Lusitania

An unlucky number. That is what people say. Terdecim. Number 13. It forbodes death. I do not believe such foolishness. Everything means death in its own way; we all must die. It would merely seem that the best are taken from us early for the gods love them, or so we are told.

The news was confirmed today; but we had heard the rumours this past year - and had little hope that it would not be so. It was merely a wonder that he had lived so long after the old emperor's demise and their passing. My blood still runs cold when I think of that day when the smoke rose to the heavens against a perfect sky and the Meridius household was wiped out. To our shame, we had stayed away until we were sure that the Praetorians were gone; no one dared to take the chance of reprisal on their families. Such is the way of the world we live in!

So the great hero was finally undermined by the evil of the new regime- but a story even greater than any legend arose from the ashes of that phoenix. Maximus survived assassination attempt, the arena and untold sufferings and, in the end, won his freedom and rejoined his loved ones. He had found the love of his life and he never accepted anything less, just as he had once hoped when still a boy. Family, a wife, a child and home were more important to him in his life than any honour or rank conferred- even by an emperor. And to defend that precious commodity he would risk more than even on a battle line- the boy who had once killed a wolf with his bare hands to avenge his dead father. At heart, he was just a simple Spanish boy who loved his family and honoured the gods and learnt, whilst still a boy, what was the true meaning of existence. We are all privileged to have known him.

May he find peace in Elysium! He was too good for this cruel world.