Dawn found Maximus and Lucilla still lying in each other's arms, their legs intertwined. They had dressed before falling asleep for the night was cool, but they had decided to remain there, on the spot were they had finally consummated their love, instead of  returning to the main courtyard and moving inside of one of the tents. Maximus woke first, but he remained immobile, savouring the warmth of Lucilla's body pressed against his own. His left arm was dumb for she was using it as pillow, but he did not mind that slight discomfort. The peace and the contentment the past night had brought him were more than worth it. Lucilla stirred and moved and the change in her breath alerted him she was awake.

"Good morning," he whispered, raising his head to gently kiss her cheek.

She turned into his arms, coming to face him and his heart skipped a beat at the naked love and happiness he could see in her eyes. "Good morning," she murmured back, before tilting her head and inviting his kiss. He obliged her, making it last as long as he could, trying to convey with it all his feelings and emotions, which were too strong and powerful to be expressed in mere words, and she responded with equal intensity.

Around them the camp was awakening. They could hear the men talk among themselves as they prepared to break the fast or they lowered and packed the tents. Maximus slowly retracted his head and whispered regretfully, "It is time to get up. It will be a long day." He was immediately sorry to have to say that, for he saw Lucilla's eyes fill with worry. The wonderful hours they had spent together had made them forget for a while the terribly dangerous trial that awaited them, but now reality crushed back on them. Commodus was coming their way and in just few hours they would know what the gods had decided for them.

Would they be on their side and finally grant the peace they longed for? Or would they, envious of their newfound happiness, snatch everything away from them?

Maximus rolled onto his back and sat up as Lucilla did the same, freeing his left arm. As he massaged it to restore the blood circulation, he was acutely aware of her eyes fixed over him. He raised his head to look at her and almost gasped at the anguish and the fear he saw. "Lucilla..." he murmured, moving his hand to caress her cheek, but she took it and trapped it between her own.

"Maximus...promise me something. Please."

"Everything..."

"Promise me you will not die... Promise me you will be careful...I could not bear to lose you now that I finally found you...please..."  She was on the verge of tears and he put his other hand other their joined ones, trying to comfort her.

"I promise Lucilla. I will return to you. I too do not want to lose you. The future is smiling at us. At you, me and your Lucius. Trust me, everything will go well, I can feel it." He truly could, and the strength of his conviction managed to ease her worries- at least a little bit.

Lucilla smiled weakly. "I trust you, Maximus. I will always trust you."

"Good. Now let's go. It is time we joined the others." Maximus stood up and helped her to her feet. Then he bent down and picked his black cloak, shaking it to free it from the sand. Lucilla helped him to fix it on his shoulders and then, hand in hand, they walked away, ready to face their destiny.

The sun was burning high in the sky, making the sand so hot its warmth reached the skin even through various layers of clothes. The heat rose from the ground as vapour from steaming water, and it caused some distortion to the sight, often causing people to see things that were not there- the desert phantoms. But for Maximus and Zeretes, lying on their bellies at the top of one of the tallest mountains surrounding the ancient fortress, there was no doubt about the reality of the black column of soldiers advancing in their direction. "One hour?" Maximus wondered aloud without turning his head.

"I believe so, Great One." Replied Zeretes. "How many do you think they are?"

The Spaniard squinted his eyes against the glare. "One hundred. Perhaps two. It is difficult to say with all the dust they are raising."

"We can beat them. The army they sent against us last time was bigger." The warrior's voice was full of confidence, and Maximus could only agree with him. He was sure his men could do it.

"Come," he said, "let's go to alert the others. We must take our positions soon."

The two men retraced their steps back to the horses they had left at the bases of the mountain and trotted away, expertly negotiating the stony path hidden between the heights that led to the large plateau were the rest of the tribesmen were waiting for them. The warriors were all mounting their horses and they turned their heads in unison as they saw their leader approach. Maximus reined Niger to walk in front of them and saluted his men by tapping his chest with his right fist. They replied to him by raising their swords to the sky, but no words were spoken. When he had commanded the legion, Maximus had often talked to his legionaries before a battle, motivating and encouraging them. But these desert warriors did not need it.

They were not going to fight for money or for the hope to one day retire and live a peaceful life after twenty five years of service. They were going to defend their homes, their families and the quiet lives they already had, and they were more than aware of what was in stake that day, it was not necessary to remind them. The Spaniard gestured with his hand and the riders split in two groups, galloping away from the tableland by opposite directions, hurrying to take their position at the entrance and the exit of the canyon standing several feet below. In few minutes they had disappeared between the rocks, and the hard, dried ground conserved no trace of their presence.

Only ten persons remained on the plateau: Maximus, Zeretes, Lucilla and seven other riders, six of them composing Marcus Aurelius' daughter's escort. The Spaniard spurred Niger to flank Zeretes' horse and the younger man turned to face him, waiting for orders. "Zeretes, you are not going to participate in the battle," Maximus announced calmly.

"What?!" The warrior almost sputtered with incredulity.

"You will remain here with the lady Lucilla and the other men, ready to take her away in case the battle should turn for the worse for us."

"But- Great One...!"

Maximus silenced the other's protest by raising a hand. "The tribe will need a new chieftain should something happen to me, and you are always been my choice of successor. It is your duty to stay alive and away from danger, and led our people in the hard time that will follow, should we lose today. In truth, my friend, I am afraid I might be putting a very big weight on your shoulders."

"One I would carry proudly, Great One, although I feel it will not be necessary." Any trace of disagreement had gone from Zeretes' eyes and voice. "And I will keep your lady safe. You can count on me."

"Of course I can." The two men exchanged a strong hand shake, then Maximus turned his horse around and rode till the place where Lucilla was, sitting motionlessly on her mount. The dark clothes she wore to protect herself from the heat made her fair features look even paler, while her eyes betrayed all her anguish and anxiety. It seemed almost impossible she was the same woman of the night before, when they had snuggled close and made sweet talk, had she laughed in sheer joy in his arms. The Spaniard moved closer to her and reached out an arm to take her hand. It was cool, almost chilly despite the heat. He squeezed it, trying to give her some of his warmth, and was gratified when she responded. "I will return," Maximus said fiercely, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing its back. "I will return and nothing and nobody will tear us apart."

Lucilla nodded and swallowed hard. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she murmured, "I know, Maximus, I know." She breathed harshly, "I love you."

"As I do." Maximus smiled briefly and gave a last kiss to her hand, then freed it. He reined his horse away, and walked away from her, obliging himself to not look back. As he put distance between them, he adjusted the veil to cover his face and his eyes lost all of their softness to become steely and determined. He was ready for the battle. He flanked Zeretes a last time and ordered softly, "You know what you have to do. If something goes wrong, no matter how she might protest, take her away from here."

"It will be done, Great One."

Maximus nodded, then moved to where the other riders were standing. "Ezena," he motioned to one of them, "You will come with me and be my second in command today." The warrior nodded, spurring his horse to fall in step with his leader's. "You will lead one of the charges, the one at the end of the canyon. We know for sure that Commodus is taking the lady Lucilla's son with him. The boy must not be harmed or involved in the battle. It will be our priority to take him away and to his mother as soon as we will be able to locate him. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, Great One."

"Good." Maximus nodded in approval and without adding a single word the two men spurred their horses, leaving in their wake only a cloud of dust that quickly settled as if they had never been there.

Time seemed stand still as, on the plateau, Lucilla awaited for Commodus' party's arrival, warring within herself. A part of her wished for the waiting to been over, for anxiety was consuming her. Another part, instead, hoped to postpone the moment of truth as long as possible. She longed to be free, no matter the price to pay for it, and yet she was terrified by what could happen to Maximus and Lucius.

What she had said that morning was true. Losing Maximus would now cause her death. Not materially, perhaps, for she would go on living for her son's sake, but certainly in her spirit. Now that she knew what love and happiness really were, and even if she believed it was better to have love and lost than not having loved at all, she knew this was a time she could not bear to lose. The almost absolute silence that enveloped her - the silence she would treasure in Rome, where finding a quiet spot to be alone with her own thoughts in the overcrowded town and palace was almost impossible - was now giving on her nerves. It seemed unnatural, as if the whole desert and the creatures that inhabited it, had stopped to go on with their living to wait for what would soon happen.

The forced immobility was another strain. Lucilla would give much of her fortune to be able to pace back and forth and somehow dispel her nervousness, but she could not. In the total stillness of the desert and the limpidity of the sky, she could not risk to be seen by the approaching party or cause some kind of noise that could in turn spook the horses and make their presence known. So she remained on the saddle, tormenting her mount's mane with her twisting fingers, willing the time to pass faster...willing it to stop...

Several minutes later, Lucilla could not tell how many, the echo of hooves announced her the wait was almost over. Her breath caught in her throat- she had been expecting it, and yet she was unprepared. Lucilla turned her head to look at the warriors composing her escort and saw that while they seemed to not have moved in hours, they were now fully alert and ready to act. Zeretes, the man in charge, caught her gaze and bowed to her, apparently calm and unconcerned.

The plateau where they waited was conveniently located- as all the places from where the attack would be launched. As long as they did not move too close to the edge, the peculiar shape of the mountains surrounding the fortress did not allow to the people down in the gorge to see the warriors lurking between the rocks.

As she had noticed the evening before while riding in the canyon, if someone looked at the mountains deliniating it, they seemed to be a single block of solid rock, impenetrable and too steep to be climbed, especially by horses. But now she knew it was a simple illusion. The peaks hid many large tablelands like the one where she was and the seemly dangerous cliffs were not so perilous when you observed them from top to bottom. The light, agile mounts used by the tribe, while looking too small for a man of Maximus' size, were perfectly at ease between those narrow, steep paths, and she had seen with such speed and confidence they were able to gallop down the slopes.

Lucilla swallowed hard as she saw the first lines of Praetorians ride inside the pass, fully armed and ready for the battle they expected at the fortress. They proceeded at a walk, observing the place, scanning the rocky walls in search of possible dangers. But the more they entered the canyon, the more they seemed to relax, deceived, as hoped, by the shape on the mountains.

A flash of white among the black and purple of the Praetorians' uniforms attracted Lucilla's attention. 

Commodus. 

Uncaring of how his attire would make him quickly recognizable, he had chosen to wear the marble-like armour he used in Rome in the Colosseum, where he prided himself to be a great warrior by fighting already wounded gladiators. He was not even wearing a helmet, as prudence and the heat would dictate, but his golden laurel crown. Lucilla was not surprised by his careless behaviour, for her brother's arrogance and faith in the Praetorians' ruthless ways were well known.

At Commodus' right side rode the Prefect of the Praetorium, Quintus Aemilius Letus, unmistakable in his crested helmet, while on the left... Lucilla squinted her eyes- was it Falco? Yes, it was. The provincial governor and her intended husband was fully armed and sitting rigidly on his horse. He was looking continuously around himself, seemingly very uncomfortable- as if he was sensing the danger in the air.

Lucilla smirked. That was highly probable, for he was a snake and reptilians were noted for their acute perceptions. She shuddered at mere thought to have been destined for the man's bed then she left him to his fate and let her eyes roam over the advancing column, searching, searching till she stopped over a group that proceeded a little behind the main one. 

Thanks to the gods Commodus, although he had not hesitated to drag his nephew into that dangerous situation, had at least had the common sense to give Lucius a personal escort, which surrounded the boy, ready to protect him- or kill him, should the need arise? Lucilla shivered in dread, as her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her son. He had grown up in the year since she had lastly see him, but to her he looked still too small, too frail from the armour and the helmet he wore, like a child wearing his father's uniform. Too young to be involved in such a dangerous situation. She cursed her brother under her breath then sent a prayer to the gods to protect her boy during the battle that would soon begin.

As if her thoughts had been heard, a loud war-cry resounded in the air and echoed in the canyon as a rain of arrows showered the Praetorians on the front, hitting them before they had time to raise their shields as protection.

Lucilla gasped aloud, and jumping down her mount, she ran to the edge of the plateau, where she knelt down in the sand to see what was happening. She had not expected the warriors to use arrows! In truth she had not even noticed they were carrying bows. If she had, she would have been terribly worried for those weapons could not be completely accurate. Why was Maximus using them when Lucius could be involved- wounded or even killed by chance!

Frantically, her eyes ran along the column searching for her son as chaos erupted in the gorge and Praetorians tried vainly to find a way to escape the arrows that kept on falling on them. A cry escaped her lips- a relieved one. Not only was her boy far away from danger, but the guards escorting him, having seen what was happening on the front, had stopped their advance into the canyon and were now turning their horses, taking Lucius with them. That was the reason behind that attack, she realized in a sudden flash, to separate her son from Commodus!

It was then that the main assault was launched and Maximus' warriors galloped down the slopes, attacking the Praetorians both on back of the column, effectively blocking their attempt at retreat. Lucilla held her breath as the group stormed over the imperial guards, their curved swords shining in the early afternoon sun and she stretched her neck to see what was going on. She tried to keep her eyes fixed over Lucius but it was difficult because of the dust that was arising and the great number of men and horses concentrate in such narrow space- all of them dressed with black or dark clothes.

The clang of the swords, the cries of the wounded, the whinnies of the horses coming from the canyon echoing between its walls, increased in volume when a second group of warriors attacked on the front. Lucilla's head snapped in that direction, just in time to see Maximus on his black stallion cut inside the Praetorians' ranks as a sharp knife in tender cheese. She tried to follow his progress too, but concerned for Lucius' safety she darted her eyes in the opposite ends of the gorge, with the result she soon lost track of both her son and the man she loved.

And the waiting began again.

Down in the canyon, the battle raged. The Praetorians were fighting courageously but the narrow space impeded them, for they were not used to fighting in such an environment. Their tall horses, chosen to look impressive while escorting Caesar, were not trained for battle and certainly couldn't compete with the agile mounts of the Amazighs. But probably, more importantly, none of the black-clad guards had the same strong motivations as Maximus and his men. They were fighting for money and out of fear of retaliation, not to defend their homes and their families as the tribesmen. So, as the number of soldiers fallen in the dirt kept on increasing, the Praetorians still on horses tried to break the siege.

It was as desperate as it was useless. 

The warriors not only resisted to the assault, but continued their blocking manoeuvre, pushing back the soldiers on both sides of the canyon, obliging them to retreat in its centre, and causing them to hinder each other as the space at their disposal decreased. From her elevated position, Lucilla saw her brother was still alive and although she was not able to hear his words, she noticed he was shouting orders with mounting desperation. Orders that his men could not or did not obey as Maximus' warriors closed on them, slowly but inexorably.

Lucilla felt no regret upon seeing Commodus trapped there and his obvious terror did not touch her. Her brother, the boy she had loved, had died a long time ago - the night he had killed their father - and it was time the monster that now inhabited his body died too.

Again her eyes ran to the place where Lucius had been, but as much as she looked, she could not spot him. Instead she could see a large number of armoured bodies lying in the dirt and she fervently prayed every god she knew her son was not there.

It was then that the sound of approaching hooves attracted her attention away from the massacre going on a few feet below her.

Lucilla rose to her feet when she saw two riders come in her way. The first was one of Maximus' men, and he was pulling at the reins of the mount of other rider, who was covered by the warrior's flowing cloak. She moved forward to have a better look and her heart skipped a beat.

It was Lucius! 

He looked frightened, dirty and dishevelled, but he was not hurt...and he was there, with her. Lucilla started to tremble as too many emotion crushed over her: relief, love, joy, happiness...

"Lucius!" she cried, unable to contain herself.

"Mother? Mother!" The boy's eyes widened as he saw her run in his direction, dressed like a man, but he was quick to react. In a blink of an eye he jumped down his horse and threw himself in his mother's waiting arms, pulling at her clothes with as much force as she did as they both burst into tears.

Maximus was panting heavily and drying the sweat sliding down his forehead to his nose with his sleeve as he led Niger more inside the canyon, being careful to not step over already rigid corpses or bodies contorting with pain.  His eyes were full of anguish as he observed the carnage around him. There was no doubt the tribe had won, but it was yet to be seen at what price.

It had always been so for him: after a battle was over, he barely had time to savour the victory, before other, sadder thoughts came to haunt him. How many of his men would not return home? How many of them would be crippled for life? How many of them would have to suffer unspeakable pain in order to be saved?

The answer, of course, was always the same: too many. 

Maximus nodded to his men as he encountered them along the way. Some of them, specially the younger ones, were cheering aloud, proud of what they had accomplished, while the more seasoned warriors were calmer, concentrated on touring the battlefield, searching for their wounded or dead companions, of giving the final blow to the Praetorians still alive.

Maximus moved toward the left end of the canyon, away from where the battle had raged the fiercest, and stopped his horse, looking down at the body lying there, face in the sand.

Commodus.

The white armour that had made him such an easy target, was now splattered with the blood that had poured out when Maximus had almost severed his head with a sword blow. The wound was on the back of his neck, for he had caught the youth while he was trying to escape, coward till the end. Staring at his enemy, Maximus felt no joy, just relief. It was over and he had obtained justice for his family and his emperor. Now he just hoped Commodus and Falco's deaths also meant Rome would quit Her purposes of conquest against the tribes and let them return to their peaceful occupations.

Sighing, he turned Niger around and went in search of Ezena. They had to organize the transportation of the wounded to the fortress, where they had left their medical supplies, and they needed to do it soon. Not only the sun was already starting its descent, but it was beginning to be increasing difficult to keep away the vultures flying in circles atop their heads.

A loud commotion attracted his attention and Maximus snapped to alert again as he located the source of the noise.  Five of his men had trapped a Praetorian against a wall of the canyon. He was the only imperial guard still standing on his feet and Maximus wondered if he had somehow found a place were to hide himself during the battle, of if he had fought through it and survived. As Niger approached the group, the Praetorian's features became clearer, the ugly scars between his eyes unmistakable.

Quintus.

He had lost his helmet and blood poured from a cut over his right eye. He was limping, but the grip of his sword was still strong, keeping the tribesmen at bay.

"Let me pass," Maximus ordered, and the men moved away, enlarging the circle around the wounded Praetorian. He stopped his horse at few feet from the Prefect, then, slowly, removed the black veil still covering his face. Quintus' eyes widened and he gasped aloud. However he did not try to speak as gradually, a look of understanding replaced the shock on his battle-hardened features. He looked around himself, at the carnage, at the numerous tribal warriors now standing behind Maximus and nodded. Everything was clear to him now. His sword fell into the sand as he returned to fix his gaze on his former commander, as they silently communicated.

Maximus reached out with his right hand, palm open and turned up. He had already had justice. He did not want more blood on his hands.

Quintus looked at his outstretched arm and shook his head. Then he stared at the dagger Maximus kept tied to his belt. He looked up again at the other's eyes, then back to the dagger.

Maximus understood. If it was so his old friend wanted it to end... He dismounted his horse and moved forward, unsheathing the weapon and raising it high in front of himself, the blade turned outward.

Quintus nodded and the whisper of a smile appeared on his lips. Thank you, his gaze seemed to say, before, giving Maximus barely the time to brace himself, he threw his body against the dagger.

"Vale, Maximus." He just had the time to whisper as the blade pierced his throat.

"Ave atque vale, Quintus," Maximus murmured back, as the Praetorian's collapsed lifeless over him. He let go of the dagger and gently lowered the body to the ground, closing the unseeing eyes with his fingers and covering his face with his cloak. No vulture would make a havoc of that body. He would see to it.

Maximus was still kneeling in the sand, still pondering about how much death and sorrow Commodus had caused, when he heard his men murmur aloud behind his back. He stood up and turned around, his gaze following the others' direction. Two horses were advancing in his way. He looked at the riders and his eyes widened. Lucilla and her son.

Maximus walked to meet them, stopping at the side of her horse, a hand on the reins.

"Lucilla," he murmured, "You should not be here. It is not a place for you or your son." Unbidden his gaze ran to where Commodus' corpse lay unattended.

"Instead it is," she replied softly but surely, staring at him. "My place is where you are, Maximus. Now. Always." 

There was something in her tone that made his eyes blur. Such simple words and yet how many things they said! Lucilla was telling him that no matter what he will choose to do next - go to Rome and claim the throne, retreat in Hispania, stay with the tribe - she was going to remain with him. Always. He tried to muster a reply, but Lucilla was quicker. She slid down the saddle and threw herself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

Maximus embraced her with strength, savouring her special kind of warmth, as around them the warriors and young Lucius smiled and cheered aloud, their jubilant cries echoing in the canyon and spreading in the yellow-rose sunset that was enveloping them.

Epilogue
Hispania - 3 years later

Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla looked through her bedroom's window at the hills surrounding her husband's farm and smiled. Since she had arrived in Hispania, she smiled a lot and each smile made her look younger and fresher as it swept away the wariness and exhaustion and also the anguish and fear that had tainted each day of her life for over a decade. The late summer sun was well on its way beyond the horizon and the dying light dyed the clouds in bright pink and bathed the slopes in gold. A soft breeze brought her the scent of jasmine and freshly cut grass and a soft whinny. Oh, yes. Since she had arrived in Hispania she had been smiling all the time for everything had been different.

Completely different. And the reasons to smile went on multiplying. 

With a contented sigh, Lucilla took her eyes from the hills and lowered her gaze to the baby in her arms. 

She was lying on the big, rustic, comfortable bed she had shared with Maximus since she had arrived at the farm, and the soft bundle that was her daughter Annia Decima Lucilla felt light but warm at her breast, as she greedily suckled her nourishment. She was small but perfect, a little, pink, lively thing with soft, auburn hair like hers but blue eyes like her father. A soft gurgle at her right had Lucilla take her eyes from her daughter and look at her son, Maximus Decimus Meridius Aurelius, safely cocooned in the double cradle that stood beside the bed. The boy gurgled again in his sleep, then sighed contentedly and remained quiet. His hair was dark as his father's but it had been him who had inherited Lucilla's cat like eyes.

Twins. 

Just when she had been on the brink of losing all hope of having more children, of giving Maximus a child of himself to crown their marriage and happiness, she had found herself pregnant. Ecstatic happiness had been followed by gnawing fear. Her only pregnancy and labour had gone smoothly but she was not young anymore, Lucius already sporting the toga virilis and she closer to forty than to twenty...Then she had started growing outrageously big and the local midwife had told her there were two babies in her womb. Maximus had paled at the news and sent one of his servants with an urgent dispatch for a physician in Emerita Augusta. The man had come, examined her and confirmed the midwife's suspicion.

Twins.

When the physician had already been accommodated in one of the farm's many bedrooms to rest and recover for the trip back, the tension had taken the best of her and Maximus had entered their bedroom to find her noisily sobbing. "It is ridiculous!" she had told him between sobs, while he had caressed her and did his best to soothe her, "Twins! At my age!"

"Well, why are you so surprised? Did not you tell me that you had a twin brother?"

She had sniffed noisily and nodded.

"I have heard that there are families who have twins frequently..."

Lucilla had wiped her eyes and, as she had struggled to regain control, she had refrained from telling him that she and her male twin had not been the only ones for Commodus also had had a twin brother.

Commodus.

The memory of her mad, misguided, dead young brother always brought a pang of pain. He had brought so much grief to her life and she had taken an active role in his end yet she had never come to really hate him and every now and then she had discovered herself saying a quick prayer for him.

The return to Rome had been so different from her trip to Africa, an imperial prisoner doomed to another loveless marriage to a cunning, vile man. It had been a long trip, uncomfortable in many cases yet a joyous adventure for she had been reunited with her son and the man she had loved all her life.

Before leaving the desert that had been his home for the last years and the tribe that had been his family since his own had been taken from him, Maximus had made Zeretes his successor. The man had been overwhelmed and protested, saying he was not deserving. But Maximus had chosen well and Lucilla could not but admire his keen judgement when it came to men and their virtues and faults. Zeretes had what makes a man into a leader for he was not only courageous but also smart and most of all he was fair.

On the eve of their departure, Maximus had had a long talk with the men who had been his warriors and told them why he was leaving and why it was necessary to go to Rome and face the Senate, and the tribe had understood. It had been hard for the tribe to let Maximus go after he had kept them safe from the Romans but they knew that the Great One was not one of them. The gods had brought him to the desert for their own purposes and to fulfil a prophecy that was old when they had been born. Now, the gods had other plans for the Great One and it was time for him to go back to his people, taking with him the strange and beautiful woman who had come from Rome and his past and the boy who was her son.

Desert warriors are tough people but when Maximus' and Lucilla's party had been ready to depart, there had been unshed tears in many eyes. Zeretes and his men had escorted them for the first two miles then returned to the keep but not before a last embrace between the former chieftain and the newly appointed one. Lucius had looked at them wide eyed from the top of his mount, a little but strong desert horse Maximus had given him. And Lucilla had looked at the horizon, at the dunes that seemed to never end but as she did, she had heard Maximus' last words to Zeretes. "I will do whatever it takes to make Rome understand that you are to be left by yourself," he had said in a steady, low voice. "You have my word. And you also have my word that, any problem should arise, I will come back to help you fend it off!"

And then and there, Lucilla had known that a certain part of him would always be theirs, that the desert would always have a claim on Maximus...on the Great One.

As they came closer to the Urbs, she had become increasingly nervous but Maximus had calmed her with his strong, steady presence and the love he now was able to express freely. During the crossing, he had taken Lucius apart and told him about their rekindled relationship and then asked him, as the head of the Antonini family, his permission to marry her. Lucius had blushed with pleasure at being regarded like the adult he was not yet then beamed as he gave his permission, for he had noticed from the beginning how good Maximus had been for his mother. And Lucilla's eyes had blurred with unshed tears of unbridled happiness and also at the thoughtfulness of the simple gesture that had made of them a family in a deeper, stronger way than any rite or signed document.

There had been excited whispering and audible gasps when Lucilla and Maximus had walked together into the Senate chamber to present their case and report. The doors had remained closed during the seemingly endless session and the tension had been palpable but it had soon been clear that things were going to be all right. Despite the many faults of their class, senators usually had a quick grasp of whatever threatened their power.

Commodus had been the harshest and hardest enemy they had faced since Domitian's maddened reign and soon it was obvious that they were too pleased to have been rid of him to take any action against the man who had put an end to his life, his reign and the threat he represented. Besides, they were too busy trying to get into the good graces of the new emperor who had been hailed by the powerful Armies of the North, Septimius Severus. The fact that those legions had been Maximus' and nicknamed as 'virilis' because they had never softened as the Eastern ones had, added an ironic touch to the whole situation that had not escaped Lucilla's attention and neither had Maximus'. The glance they had exchanged spoke volumes.

Lucilla had made a long and thoughtful speech of such a political diplomacy that it had been the mandatory subject of discussion at every patrician dinner for the following two years. In her speech, the former Augusta informed the Senate of her decision to retire to a private life and take her son with her in what she described as her personal contribution to the pacification of Rome. Her voice had raised strong and steady under the dome of the Curia and the senators had listened to her in silence but some eyebrows had raised every now and then for her careful phrasing left no doubt about the Augusta's knowledge of her own considerable power, should she decide to use it to enforce her son's right to the throne- or that of the man whom she informed the Senate she had agreed to marry.

Nevertheless, Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla was ready to leave everything behind, to retire to what she hoped would be a 'simpler, more satisfying life' at the provinces. She had no ambition, she said, other than seen the good name, rank and wealth of her chosen, second husband restored. The message hit the target, the senators more than happy to solve such a problem with as little as a few documents signed and sealed and proclamation across the empire. So delighted they were that they had even agreed to grant Maximus a compensation for the wrong did to him by Commodus, giving him some more acres of land in Hispania to add to those Lucilla had returned him. By the time they took the ship to Malaca, Maximus was not only an honourably retired commander of the Roman army but also a man wealthy beyond his dreams had riches had ever been important to him, which was not the case.

The journey to Hispania had been the most joyful trip Lucilla could remember. They had first settled in an inn, while Maximus had the farm rebuilt and Lucius trailed all day long behind him. Lucilla had frowned at the interruption of his formal education but she had finally agreed to grant him half a year of freedom and during those six months she had seen her son grow stronger, healthier and happier as he left behind the awkwardness of childhood and entered young adulthood under the loving and strengthening influence of Maximus. And Lucilla had thanked the gods once more for what he was giving Lucius no tutor, no matter how excellent, could give him. The house was only half completed when they had moved in. Maximus had been concerned about the lack of comfort but Lucilla had laughed and silenced him with a kiss... She had known all kind of luxury at the Palatine and the imperial villas in Tibur and Caprae but they had only been lavish prisons. In Maximus' farm, instead, she had found freedom and happiness but most of all love, all of them things that she had craved for and so many times she had despaired of ever coming to enjoy...

The baby in her arms squirmed as she freed her nipple and made a sucking noise with her little lips. Brought back from her reverie, she made a soothing sound as she turned Annia to her other breast. Nursing two children was proving to be quite a task but as days passed the flow of milk was increasing and the midwife had prepared her a mix of herbs that would help to keep it steady. Lucilla sighed deeply. Despite her age and fears, the pregnancy had been normal and easy but for the fact that she had grown huge during the second half and tired easily. Labour had started a couple of weeks ahead of the scheduled time but once the initial fright was over, everything had gone smoothly and there had been no other complications but the extra effort of pushing two babies instead of one. The twins had been small but healthy, beautiful children who had arrived late in life but were even more precious because of that. Lucius had been awed upon seeing his brother and his sister and Maximus had unashamedly shed tears of joy and relief at the sight of his babies and their mother, the three of them safe despite the ordeal. Lucilla had been exhausted but not so much to not be able to make a little joke about the advantage of having two children at the same time for it helped recover some of the time wasted while she had failed to get pregnant.

Maximus the Younger and Annia had been born four days before and they were doing more than fine even if their mother was taking longer to recover than she had done when Lucius had been born. The midwife had laughed at her impatience when she had complained and reminded Lucilla that she should be grateful and give thanks to the gods for the gift of her healthy babies and safe delivery at her age. Mollified, she had agreed and accepted her confinement to bed with no further protest.

Some people believed that twins were bad luck and there had been a time when she herself had thought they were right, that perhaps it had been because of the bad luck of being twins that Commodus and she had lived such difficult lives. But it had just taken a look at her children - still wet from her womb - to dispel the notion for Lucilla knew in her heart that the babies could not bring anything but love and happiness to their parents and there was no better luck to be wished and gifted with. And she had known it with the same certainty and the same intensity that she had known that those beautiful babies would be the first and only children she would give Maximus. There had been grief at the realization that her body would never give life again but Lucilla had been so overwhelmed by the love she felt.

Her bedroom door opened silently and Tiberina smiled from the threshold at the sight of her mistress, her long auburn hair spread over the pillows and a baby at her breast, the other in the cradle their father had made for them with his own hands when he had received word that they were having twins. The former general never failed to surprise her, a man so strong yet so gentle and who loved her mistress so much. He had healed her deep scars and had been healed by her and together they had struggled to build a new life together, to leave behind their painful memories and start a new, eager as youth even if they were well into their late thirties.

When Lucilla and Maximus had married and told Tiberina their decision to go to Hispania, to his farm and a life that had nothing to do with the luxury of the Palatine and the imperial splendour, her mistress had freed her from her duties and given her a small house close to the walls of Rome and enough money for a comfortable life. Lucilla had explained Tiberina that she did not expect her to follow them for the life ahead was very different from what they were used to and the maid already shared her exile in Caprae and Africa. But Tiberina had not wanted to hear her and simply commented that she had taken a liking to travelling and after the harsh desert the verdant hills of Hispania sounded intriguing. Now, looking at her mistress and her newborn babies, Tiberina sent a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for this new opportunity for her imperial lady, the general and also for her, for raising those lovely children would be the joy of her old age.

Finally satiated, little Annia sighed and fell asleep in her mother's arms and Tiberina hurried to take her and put her beside her brother in the cradle by the bed. Lucilla thanked her and winced as she shifted her position. She was still tender from the birth but there was neither bleeding nor fever and in a few days more she would be completely recovered. Once Tiberina was satisfied about the babies' comfort she turned towards her mistress.

"It is late, My Lady," she said, gently chiding her. 

Lucilla smiled. "It takes time to feed those puppies," she chuckled. 

Tiberina burst into laughter then became serious and poured some water in the nearby basin. "Now, My Lady, there is no time to waste! Your husband has already come back and is getting ready to come here to see his children and dine with you! We better hurry up and get you ready for him!"

Lucilla darted a quick glance towards the open window. Oh yes, it was late. The clouds had turned from glorious pink into dark purple as the shadows quickly covered the farm and the first lanterns flickered to life.

Maximus should be washing himself in the back courtyard as he always did, unwilling to bring the dirt of a day at the fields into the house. As her maid fussed around, she saw him in her mind, his strong, bronzed arms glistening with water as he splashed himself, his grin wide, his laugh easy, a hot and rumbling sound that never failed to make her heart jump.

"I had that lovely night shift of the finest Egyptian cotton freshly pressed and perfumed and you know how lovely you look when you wear it..."

Lucilla's smile became broader, a sweet languor spreading through her body as she submitted to Tiberina's ministrations. Oh, yes. Since she had arrived in Hispania she had been smiling all the time for everything had been different- wonderfully so.

The night breeze blew with renewed intensity and the scent of jasmine became stronger. Underneath it, Lucilla could also distinguish the smell of damp, fertile soil freshly tilled and ready to receive the seeds of the last yearly crop. The crickets had already started their nightly song and they added to the lulling sensation that filled her and when Tiberina took the brush and started working on her hair, Lucilla closed her eyes and felt like purring. She did not hear her maid go, her mind pleasantly drifting between consciousness and a delightful slumbering state.

Then, there was a slight, creaking sound as the bedroom's door opened. Suddenly alert, Lucilla opened her eyes and looked at the threshold. And a joyous smile spread on her face as she stretched her arms towards him, and with the sight of him came the well known feeling of warmth, love and also of being alive as she had never been before.

"Maximus..."