HISPANIA, ROMAN PROVINCE OF LUSITANIA, 184AD

The unmerciful sun of the Iberian summer cast its hot beams on the roads of Emerita Augusta. It was early afternoon and the large town looked almost deserted, its citizens avoiding to be outdoors during the hottest hours of the day. Many of them were probably crowding one of the numerous bathhouses scattered around the city, just as Maximus Decimus Meridius planned to do. Beads of sweat ran from his short cropped, dark hair, to his neck and disappeared beneath his wine red tunic and armour, as he walked quickly along a shadowed porch. Maximus had known a hotter climate during his time spent in Zucchabar, thus he was not especially put off by the Lusitanian summer; however it was still very uncomfortable to walk around under the midday sun with his dress uniform on, wolf pelts included. But there had been no way he could review the legion just arrived in the province from Rome wearing only a simple tunic and a leather cuirass.

The provincial authorities and the legion commander had expected him to look like the man he was, the "Saviour of Rome" and the Empire's chief military advisor, and he had not wanted to disappoint them, thus suffering a little bit of discomfort for duty's sake.

After all, it was nothing compared to what he had gone through in the last years for carrying on his obligations and, in a more recent past, his responsibilities had been the only thing that had pushed him to keep on living.

For a long time after he had awaken from the infection caused by Commodus' stiletto blade, the one that had almost killed him, Maximus had attached to his sense of duty to go on with his life. His sense of duty regarding Rome.

His sense of duty regarding Lucilla, Lucius and Senator Gracchus. 

His sense of duty regarding his servants in Hispania who, he had been told while he was recuperating from his wounds, had returned to work his land even during the time he had been believed dead, bringing his farm back almost to the old splendour.

He had been very touched by their gesture - after all many of them were slaves, and could have used his misfortune to escape and be free - and by their faithfulness. Those people believed in him so much, despite the fact many of them had died because of him, that he had felt he could not let them down. Thus he had accepted a position that enabled him to help carry out Marcus Aurelius' last wishes without being blocked in Rome, and returned home, to be near his family and his servants.

In the year that had followed his return, Maximus had worked himself to exhaustion almost every day, toiling back-breaking hours in his fields during the hours of light, while he spent the evenings and nights reviewing the reports sent to him by the commanders of all the legions scattered along the Empire, which was now jointly ruled by the Senate and Lucilla, acting as regent for her son.

He had deliberately pushed himself almost to his limits day after day for it was the only way he would be tired enough to fall asleep in his bed and avoid the regrets, the guilt, the "ifs" and the "buts" that had plagued him since the day he had discovered Selene's and Marcus' corpses.

Then, almost without him noticing it, something had changed. 

Little by little, his desperation had started to lessen and he had begun to do his tasks around the farm or in his office out of pleasure, not duty, finding joy in performing them.

Gradually the passion for his land had returned to warm his heart and like Nature awakening after a long winter, Maximus' spirit had blossomed again. Duty had stopped to be his only anchor to life and he had rediscovered the joy of swimming naked in his farm's pond, of galloping his horse up and down the hills surrounding his villa, of walking bare-feet in his wheat fields, his hands caressing the swollen spikes. Simple pleasures that had helped him regain his peace of mind. Maximus could not say he was happy - how could he be without his family? But at least he had conquered the demons that had haunted him since that forsaken night in Germania, and had finally come to accept that if he had not died because of Commodus' stabbing, it was because it was not meant to be. Just as his wife and son had whispered to him when he had met them in his fevered dreams. His change of attitude had been noticed by his servants and by the notables of the province and many of them, believing he was ready to start a new chapter of his life, had offered him their daughters in marriage, anxious to tie their names to that of the Saviour Of Rome.

Maximus had refused all the proposals, for he had no desire to start a new family: certain wounds take a lot of time to heal and he was not ready to fall in love again.

Not yet and perhaps not ever.

Maximus was still musing about the legion he had just inspected and the bath he was going to take before heading home, when a loud commotion coming from a small vicus on his left attracted his attention. He tensed his ears and then sprang to a run when he distinctly heard someone call for help.

Unsheathing his gladius as he ran, the general burst in a small square surrounded by buildings and with a fountain in its centre, and saw a man encircled by five bullies armed with knives and daggers.

"Give us the money, fat-man if you don't want to lose your life!" One of the attackers was saying, advancing threateningly as his victim tried to back away, until he was trapped against the wall of a building. Assessing the situation, Maximus lost no time to intervene, and was soon on the group shouting, "Drop your weapons at once if you care for your lives!"

The five thieves turned startled in his direction and three of them, taking a look at his fierce expression and at his sword, did as he commanded, letting their blades fall and running away, quickly disappearing in a narrow street. The other two, bolder and more careless, tried to confront with the newcomer, but they were no match for the man who once had been known as the Spaniard, Rome's only undefeated gladiator, and he bested them with few rapid sword-blows. Less than a minute after his arrival at the square, the two attackers were lying on the street pavement, nursing painful but not dangerous wounds to their arms and legs.

Maximus sheathed his sword and turned to look at the intended victim. The man, who seemed younger than him but very overweight, wore a tunic bearing the purple strip of the senatorial class and was shaking with fear.

"Are you all right?" The general asked, as he checked him for wounds with his eyes.

The man nodded his head hurriedly but did not stop pressing against the wall or hugging a leather pouch - no doubt full of money - to his chest.

Maximus felt a sense of distaste rise inside him at the other man's behaviour. He had recognized him as a politician who had come recently from Rome and thus he knew he must have served in a legion for at least a couple of years, for it was mandatory to begin a political career. Maximus found his continuous trembling not befitting a former soldier of Rome.

In that moment a group of town guards arrived running on the scene, probably alerted by the inhabitants of the buildings surrounding the square.

"What's happening there?" Called one of them, before skidding to a halt when he recognized the soldier in front of him. "General Maximus!"

"Prefect." Maximus tapped his chest with his right fist in salute.

"What happened here, sir?"

"These two bullies here tried to rob the Praetor. I stopped them."

The guard nodded, then ordered one of his men, "Take these bastards to the prison."

"Yes, sir!"

In a few moments the thieves were hauled to their feet and taken away, while Maximus, the prefect and the praetor remained behind. The general wanted to go away, he was already late and he wanted to take his bath and start his journey home before it was too late. "I would like to leave now, if I am not needed anymore." He said to the town guard, who nodded in response.

"Of course, General. I don't think you need to stay longer. The two rascals are well known here in town as two hot heads and I am sure the Praetor here will be able to tell me everything I need to know. Is this correct, sir?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the way the prefect had pronounced the last word, as if he too was disgusted by the spectacle the other man was still offering and

which was totally unsuited for a man in his position. "Is it not true, Praetor?" The guard remarked again as the politician failed to reply.

In the end the man seemed to react and shake himself. "Yes... yes, of course." He swallowed hard, then looked at Maximus. "Thank you, General. Please- please let me know if there is something I can do for you." The man's voice had taken on a sweet tone, as if he had finally understood who had saved his life and, as a true politician, he was trying to get "closer" to this powerful soldier. But there was no way he could do so, and Maximus was quick to make it clear.

"Thank you for the offer, Praetor, but I don't need anything. Now, excuse me, I must go." And with a final, curt bow to the town guard and the politician, Maximus turned on his heels and walked away.

In the few days that followed, Maximus did not muse much about what had happened, but not in order not to remind himself that this had been the first time in two years that he had raised a weapon with the intent to do some damage. The general had other, more pressing thoughts in his mind, such as being sure everything in his estate was ready for the approaching harvest.

However, one afternoon something happened to bring the praetor's rescue back to his attention.

Maximus had just returned from a ride around his land, feeling content and full of energy, when he saw his steward come to greet him by the stable yard. It was unusual and often the signal some kind of problem had arisen in the household.

"Is there something wrong, Tullius?" Asked Maximus as he jumped down his steed and handed the reins to a groom.

"No, General - or at least I don't think so." 

His master was surprised by the strange answer and arched an eyebrow, inviting the other man to continue.

"You received a visit while you were out, sir. It was a messenger coming from Praetor Aemilianus' house. He carried a... reward for you."

"A reward?" Maximus frowned, both at the word and at the slight hesitation in the other's man voice. Then he began to walk away, Tullius falling in step with him.

"Yes, General, a reward. He said you saved his master's life a few days ago."

Maximus nodded and pushed the main door of his house open, curious in spite of himself about the gift given to him. "Where did you put it?"

"I- I thought it best to close her in a place where she can not do too much damage. I put her inside a spare servant's room, the first one on the right."

Maximus' eyebrow climbed even higher at his steward's use of the feminine reference, but he did not comment and proceeded to push the door of the indicated cubicle open.

He saw her at once, even if the room was only dimly lit. 

She was sitting in a corner, her arms hugging her bent knees, her face buried against her thighs. As soon as she heard their steps, she raised her head and stared at them with wide, scared eyes.

Maximus felt his heart twist in his chest. The child, for she was only eleven or twelve years old, was painfully thin and dirty, and she looked very tired. Her tangled hair was blond, her eyes were green and her skin was very fair. She was probably a German.

"General?" Tullius' voice interrupted his musings.

"Yes?"

"This letter accompanied the girl."

Maximus took the offered papyrus, broke the seal and read the brief note.

From Praetor C. Cassius Aemilianus to General M. Decimus Meridius, salutem dicit!

Dear General, I have no words to thank you for what you did for me. I did not know how I could reward someone in your position, for you undoubtedly have everything a man might desire, but I hope you will like my gift. I have been told you are a widower, thus I hope you will find her useful. She is still a bit wild and speaks little if any Latin, but she has already been broken and her body shows a great deal of promise. Plus, her young age will allow you to train her to suit your needs and tastes.

Thank you again. I will salute Rome for you.

Vale,
C. Cassius Aemilianus

Maximus' crumpled the papyrus in his fist, fighting the wave of nausea that had assaulted him while reading the letter. The man had referred to the girl as if she were a mare and the general had understood all too well what "already broken" meant. He was so repulsed he actually regretted having saved the praetor's life, for a man like him did not deserve to live. How did he dare to suggest he could use a child to replace his wife in bed!? Of course he knew there were men who would have done it without any problem, but for Maximus it was simply unthinkable. Not only because he had no taste for children, but also because, after his time spent as a gladiator, he could no longer bear to be the owner of human beings, with the right to command them even to submit to his most basic instincts, although he had never done so. That was the reason all the members of his household were free, paid workers. Many of them had belonged to him before his tragedy, others had been bought at the market and subsequently freed, but now it was clear Maximus could not do the same with the child. Keeping her as his slave would ensure her safety, for no one would have dared to "damage" Maximus' property - his fame as conqueror of Germania and killer of a tyrant had had seen to that. Of course the general never thought to send the child back to Aemilianus, that bastard had already hurt her enough. No, he would keep her with him and care for her until she was old enough to decide about her life by herself.

Having made up his mind, Maximus smiled with gentleness and walked slowly into the room. "Hello, little one," he said softly, "What's your name?"

The girl did not reply but pressed herself more against the wall.

"I don't think she understands Latin, General." Tullius commented.

Maximus nodded and continued to advance, his hands held out, palms up, until he was near the child and knelt down.

"Hello," he said again, this time in one of the German dialects he had learnt during his long years spent serving on the Northern-Eastern border and was pleased to see the girl's eyes widen in stupor.

"Do you understand me?"

She nodded, a bit hesitantly.

Maximus smiled. "Good. You must not fear me. Nobody will hurt you here." The girl raised her tear-streaked face and looked at him. He could see in her gaze she wanted to believe him, despite everything she must have suffered.

"I promise," he remarked and offered his hand to her. The girl stared at his eyes once again then, shyly, extended her small hand and put it in his much broader one.

"Good," repeated Maximus, standing up and helping her to do the same. As he led her outside the room, he felt a sharp tug at his hand and looked down. The girl had stopped walking and pointing to her own chest murmured in German, "I am Frea."

"This is a beautiful name. Mine is Maximus."

"It's beautiful too... but it is difficult to say."

Maximus laughed briefly at her childish candour and squeezed her hand, happy for that show of trust, promising to himself no one would ever hurt Frea again.

Maximus was in the stables checking a just-weaned foal, when he got the distinct impression someone was observing him. He was sure his instinct was not failing him - it had saved his life too many times in order for him not to trust it - so he slowly turned his head, just in time to see a small shape hide behind a large heap of hay. Maximus stood silent till a blonde head peaked out, then he smiled and called in German, "Hello Frea, why don't you join me and look by yourself what I am doing?"

The girl came out of her hiding place and, twisting her braids with her fingers, walked along the corridor till she was at few feet from him. Maximus' grin widened as he gave her a brief look. He was pleased to notice she already seemed less thin than the first time he had seen her, and that her cheeks were no longer pale but healthy-pink. Dressed in a clean tunic and with her hair washed and carefully braided, she looked totally different from the scared deer Aemilianus had given to him, but unfortunately the general knew it was a mere impression. The maids that had first cared for her had informed him Frea had been raped and he knew that, as much as he wished for it, there was little he could do to erase those painful memories. He had ordered his male servants not to get too close to the girl, even if their intentions were completely innocent, and not to shout in her presence, lest they scared her, especially since she understood no Latin, except for the few words Maximus had taught her. He decided to continue his lessons now. "How are you today, Frea?" He enquired, speaking very slowly, and was pleased when the young German replied in kind.

"I am fine, sir."

"Good." He reached out a hand and gestured her to come closer. "Do you like horses?" He asked when she was at his side, repeating the line both in Latin and German.

"Yes."

"Why don't you pet him?" He pointed to the foal who was looking at them with big, liquid eyes.

Frea nodded and reached out her arm, but the young animal backed away, scared by the suddenness of her gesture. Disappointed, the girl did the same, retracting her arm and stepping back. But Maximus encouraged her to try again. "Here," he said, handing her some hay, "Let's see if this works. Give this to him and move very slowly." Frea did as he had suggested and the foal, after a bit of hesitation, moved forward and ate the hay, its soft muzzle tickling the girl's hand and causing her to laugh out. Maximus joined her and then man and child exchanged a look- a look of gentle, tentative affection. The general reached out again with his hand and put it on Frea's shoulders, pressing her against his side, inordinately happy when she slipped her arm around his waist, wanting to increase their contact. He knew how much trust that gesture implied and his heart swell with unfamiliar emotions, as if it was really waking up for the first time since the terrible day he had discovered the burned and crucified bodies of his wife and son. It felt so good to once again feel fragile bones under his hands and see young eyes look at him with trust and the desire to know. Maximus missed being a father and, as he stared at Frea, he wondered if she had been sent to him to somehow fill the void left by his little Marcus. She was even the age his son would be, had he been alive.

Man and child remained in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying their closeness, until the foal broke the spell emitting an acute cry. Frea was startled by the unexpected sound and stared wild-eyed as the young animal pushed against the wooden walls of its stall trying to break free.

"Why does it act like this?" She asked in German.

"It must have heard his mother call for it and it wants to go to her."

"Oh." Frea's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "I too lost my mother... I miss her so much..." The girl buried her head in his tunic and began to cry. Maximus ran his hand over her back in comforting circles, a lump forming in his throat at her obvious pain. A sense of guilt took hold of him as he thought about the thousands of war prisoners he had sent to Rome as slaves: how much grief had he caused with his actions? It did not matter it had not been his choice but a part of his duties, he could not help but wonder about how many families he had separated or how many women and girls he had sent into brothels or how many men he had condemned to die in the arenas- just like Haken, his late comrade in arms.

Maximus could no longer help those people, but he could try to make Frea happy. He knew from a previous talk that the girl had been brought to the market two days before being sent to him, which meant that only ten days had passed since she had been separated by her mother. With a bit of luck, the slave trader that had sold the girl might still own her mother or, if he had sold her, he could tell Maximus her new owner's name.

Having reached a decision, the general gently got free from Frea's embrace and when the girl raised her tear-streaked face to look at him, he stared seriously at her and murmured, "Recompose yourself, little one, we are going to go to town to look for your mama."

The young German's eyes widened in stupor and hope, and she hurried to wipe her cheeks with the sleeves of her tunic, before returning to look at him with expectation.

Maximus smiled at her eagerness, caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and without losing any more time, he began the preparations for their imminent journey to Emerita Augusta.

The next morning, Maximus found himself walking through the Emerita Augusta slave market with Frea at his side, his eyes methodically scanning the area in search of the vendors specialized in "exotic merchandises", as the barbarian people of the North were often called. He hated to be in that place and a part of him wanted to turn on his heels and walk away, so vivid were his memories of a similar market in Zucchabar, and of the endless hours he had spent chained there, hoping the heat, the fever and the exhaustion would kill him, for his life was no longer worth living. Almost four years had passed since those days, but still he could not help but shiver watching the "business" unfolding in front of his eyes: men probed and touched to measure their strength as if they were working beasts, young girls subjected to degrading examinations to ascertain if they were still virgins, older people scrutinized to see if they were still worth a few sestertii. Almost unconsciously, Maximus squeezed Frea's hand, giving and receiving comfort, and she replied to his gesture by pressing more closely against his side, as if she knew that place was as scary for him as it was for her.

The pair roamed all the market, with Maximus' eyes searching every stand, every cage, every wagon, while Frea kept her head down, darting quick glances here and there every time her companion spotted a woman he thought could be her mother. Finally they reached a slightly raised stage were slaves were sold at an auction and they stopped there. It was the last place they could search, and the general was beginning to despair they might not be able to find Frea's mother. He sighed aloud and raised his eyes to look at the "merchandise" currently offered for sale. It was a team of Numidian litter bearers, and they made him think about his friend and fellow gladiator Juba, the man that had firstly saved his life. Maximus knew he had returned to Africa and he hoped he had found his family and his happiness once more. He would have loved to see Juba again, but he knew it was highly unlikely it would happen in this life, for his dark-skinned friend was not able to write and thus they could not even- A sharp tug to his hand brought Maximus back to the present; he lowered his eyes and saw that Frea was frantically pointing to the stage. He looked up and immediately noticed the reason of her agitation: the Numidian slaves had been led away and now a woman had taken their place, dragged there in chains by a burly guard. A brief glance was more than enough to tell him she was Frea's mother: in her late twenties, she had the same hair, eyes and delicate nose and cheekbones of her daughter. But while the girl looked like a scared deer, her mother was more alike a lioness: fiery, proud and enraged. She kept her head high and her green eyes sparkled with defiance. Maximus could not help but think she was beautiful.

On the stage, the vendor was listing her qualities to the assembled crowd below. "Here we have a recent import from Germania. Her name is Irmgard and she speaks Latin well. She is full of spirit but still young: the right master won't have any problem to train her. She is also fertile and the producer of a beautiful daughter, who was sold a few days ago, so, if you are in the business of breeding slaves, you will have in her a wonderful breeding mare. The bidding starts at four hundred sestertii."

The murmur coming from the crowd showed the potential buyers were not especially interested in the attractive but troublesome slave. Maximus saw two well-known brothel owners shake their heads. Evidently the fiery-looking German was too rough for their clients. That suited Maximus very well, for it meant he would have less competition; he raised his hand and called, "Four hundred!"

"Four hundred for the General!" exclaimed the vendor pointing at him, and the woman's eyes followed his direction, widening in shock as they posed on her daughter.

"Nobody offers more? This is a fine, delicate woman, a wonderful addition to your house- Ah!" Frea's mother had just kicked the man's shin, thus denying any claims about her "delicate disposition".

The onlookers laughed as the seller limped out of her reach, but no one offered more, thus, after several more moments of silence the man had to call the end of the auction. "Sold to the General for four hundred sestertii! Please sir, direct your steps to the yard behind the stage, where you will be able to pay and retrieve your new purchase."

Maximus nodded, then watched as the woman was taken away, her gaze remaining fixed on her daughter. When she finally disappeared, Frea raised her head to look at him, an anxious query in her eyes.

"Everything is fine, little one," he reassured her in German, "Now come with me, it is time to go to pick up your mama and take her home with us."

Frea jumped with joy, and embraced his middle with all her strength, as he blinked his eyes rapidly to dispel the joyous tears just appeared there. It felt so good to make someone he cared for happy, after having caused them so much pain in the past... so very good indeed.

Irmgard was pacing back and forth, her eyes moving restlessly around the place she had been closed into. The room was spacious and clean, housing two beds, a table, a chair, a chest for the dresses and a basin and pitcher full of fresh water. It was a nice chamber, much better than the narrow cubicle she had in her previous master's house, but she was not really interested in the added comforts. Irmgard was ecstatic to have been reunited to her daughter but the idea to belong to a Roman soldier, a commander of legions no less, sickened her. It had been a man like him who, six months before, had ravaged her village, killing her husband and capturing her and her daughter. The German woman bore no love for her late consort, for he had been a weak warrior and a bad father and mate, thus she felt no pain for his death, but the loss of her freedom was much harder to be accepted.

Sitting on her bed, Frea watched her mother pace and sensing her worry, she tried to reassure her. "Mama, you don't have to be afraid. The master is very gentle."

Irmgard stopped walking and whirled around. "I am not afraid," she said harshly, then she softened her tone. "Just worried about what this Roman dog will do to us."

"The master is not a dog." Frea frowned, "He is kind. He is teaching me Latin and he has even taken me out for a ride on his big horse."

Irmgard shook her head incredulously. She could not believe a Roman could be so gentle. Frea must have been inventing things to reassure herself or... The German woman shivered. What if that soldier had a taste for children? Frea had already become fertile, but her body was still so small and so innocent, and she looked even younger then her thirteen summers... Irmgard set her face. She could accept to be raped, she had got used to it in the hand of her first master, but she would not let the same fate befall on her child. She would protect her until she was old and strong enough to do so by herself. And might his gods protect the Roman dog if he even tried to touch her daughter, for she would kill him with her bare hands.

Irmgard fell on her knees in front of her child and took her hands in her own. "Frea," she began, talking softly but very seriously, "you must not trust the Romans. Never. They feign to be your friends and then they hit you when you lower your guard. Remember what they did to our village: they led us to believe we were safe, and that it was good for us to learn Latin and to commerce with their cities and as soon as we trusted them and lowered our defences, they found an excuse to destroy us and condemn us to slavery."

"The master is not like those other soldiers. He even bought you to make me happy!" Protested Frea.

"Oh my darling," Irmgard shook her head, "how naive you are! I am sure he did not buy me to make you happy but because it suited him for some reason I am sure I will discover all too soon. You must now promise me to stay away from him as much as you can. You must promise to never remain alone with him."

"But Mother-"

"Do not discuss with me! Promise it. Now."

Frea hung her head, "All right, Mother. I promise. I will stay away from the master. But I am sure you are wrong about him."

Irmgard decided to ignore her daughter's last comment and caressed her head as she stood up. Just in time, for the door of the room was opened and a round woman with a jovial face appeared on the threshold. "Come with me," she mentioned with her hand, "the General wish to see you now."

Irmgard took a deep breath and nodded preparing herself for the imminent encounter as a warrior gets ready for a battle. She was a German and no Roman dog would ever entirely conquer her. Never.

Maximus was in his tablinium, sitting at the desk and reviewing the farm's accounts when he heard a light knock on the door.

"Come in!" He called and Tullius entered the room.

"General, you told me you wished to see the German woman. She is here."

"Good. Let her in." Maximus put his writing utensils away and rose to his feet, as his new purchase was brought into the room and the door was closed behind her back. He noticed how the woman's eyes darted in every direction and how her body was tense and ready to act. She looked like a gladiator entering the ring of the arena, but while years before such an idea would have brought a smile to his lips, now it served only to sober him more. She was expecting an attack, probably a sexual one, even if he had chosen to meet her in his study for there was not even a couch in there, and he had thought she would not have felt threatened. Evidently it was not so, thus he had to reassure her nobody would ever use violence to her in his house.

The woman stopped in front of him, the desk separating them, and stared at him with the same defiance she had displayed at the auction. There was no sign of submission and he did not know if he had to like it or not. As a man, he admired her fiery look, but as the chief of his household he was not sure that insolent German was totally of his liking. He was after all a general, a man used to command and to be obeyed, and he did not want troublemakers in his house. However, he had bought her to make Frea happy, thus he was determined to ignore his slave's attitude, barring she caused problems with it.

"Good afternoon," he began, "I am General Maximus."

The slave remained passive and he tried again. "The vendor said you speak Latin. Is that true?"

A curt nod was replied to him. Maximus sighed aloud. "Listen. I can only imagine what you have gone through since you were submitted into slavery. But I know how hard the loss of freedom is." She shot him a sarcastic glance, clearly not believing him and he felt blood rise to his head. He was a good-natured man despite his long years spent fighting, but there was a limit to what he could accept without reacting. He gritted his teeth and went on, his voice a low growl, "You might believe me or not, but in this house slaves are not beaten or punished or forced in any way. In truth in my villa there are no slaves, except for you and Frea. I plan to free you in the future, but for the moment, keeping you as my property will enable me to take better care of you."

"I don't need your help." The woman interrupted him in correct, albeit heavily accented Latin.

Maximus was so pleased by it he ignored her insolent tone and the interruption. He smiled. "I am sure you can care for yourself in your homeland, but not here in Hispania. You know nothing of how things work around here."

"I know enough of your Roman ways," She hissed under her breath, pronouncing the word "Roman" as it were an insult. Once again Maximus chose to ignore her behaviour. As he stroked his bearded chin and neck, he decided to use a different tactic with her. It was evident she did not trust him and probably she had all the reasons of the world not to. And since he had never been especially good with words, he thought the only way to show her he was sincere was to demonstrate it with his actions, just as he had always done with his men, both soldiers and fellow gladiators. He would treat her as if she were a free woman and hope that in the course of time she would understand her defiant behaviour would not take her anywhere, nor would it help her to find an honest job, should she decide to leave the farm.

Maximus circled the desk, causing the woman to back away from him. "What's your name?" He asked. The seller had said it, but he did not remember it.

She stood silent and finally he lost a bit of his patience. "Well, fine, don't reply if you want. But then don't be too upset if you will be called "slave" or "hey you"!"

The woman bit her lower lip, then spoke, "Irmgard."

Maximus smiled satisfied about this small victory. "Irmgard. This is a beautiful name. Good." Still smiling, he walked to the door, opened it and put his head outside. "Tullius! Come here please!"

The steward arrived at once, "General?"

"Tullius, introduce Irmgard to the rest of the household and assign her to some light task."

The other man nodded, before motioning to the woman. "Come with me, Irmgard."

The German moved to the door and left the room without sparing Maximus a second glance, let alone showing respect to him with a bow. Once again he chose not to take note of it.

When the door finally closed behind her back, Maximus returned to his desk and dropped on his chair, feeling as tired as if he had just fought with Tigris of Gaul and his four tigers.

In the following days, Irmgard's worst predictions concerning what the Roman dog would do to her did not come true. Not only had she not been raped as she had fully expected, but she had barely caught a glimpse of him every now and then. He had never tried to remain alone with her, and their only contacts had occurred only in the mornings, when the entire household ate breakfast when he had greeted her and enquired about how she was. Irmgard had barely replied to him and walked away.

Her life at the farm was easy. Her duties - doing the laundry, pressing clothes, helping in the kitchen and tending to the kitchen garden - were light and left her plenty of time to stay with Frea. In truth she had to unwillingly admit she had more free time now than when she was still in her home village. But despite everything, Irmgard did not lower her guard, even if all the members of the household told her to relax, that it was unnecessary to be always so tense. The other servants treated her in a friendly way, despite her surly attitude, and the women had hurried to reassure her she and her daughter were not in any kind of danger, for the master was a good man. Irmgard did not listen to them nor could she understand how the younger maids mooned over the general. Yes, he was quite handsome, she was not blind, but good looks meant nothing if the spirit is bad, and the German was sure the Roman dog was an incarnation of evil. No, she would not let her guard down, not now and not ever.

With the harvest season imminent, Maximus had only few occasions to see his new slave, for he was always busy in the fields and in the orchards, supervising everything was going smoothly and helping his workers every time another pair of arms was needed. Atop of that, a senatorial courier brought him another bunch of military reports he needed to read and review, and letters from Lucilla, Lucius and Gracchus. He spent many hours in his study, sparing just the time for his daily prayers at the graves of his beloved ones and for a ride around the estate or a midnight splash in the pond's warm, relaxing water.

During all this time, Maximus kept himself informed about Irmgard, hearing from Tullius' reports the German was a hard worker, although she sometimes made every obeyed order look as a concession of her good will. As for Frea, she spent her time at her mother's side or playing with the other children living on the estate. More than once he heard her laugh and talk with her friends and was pleased to see her Latin was quickly improving, despite the fact her mother always spoke in German to her.

However, as the harvest was completed and Maximus had more free time, he noticed Frea no longer sought his company as she had done before, and it caused him to feel unreasonably alone. Thus one day, he looked for the girl and asked her if she wanted to go out with him for a ride. Frea hesitated for some moments and then nodded eagerly, running before him as he went to prepare his horse.

Man and girl spent a wonderful afternoon riding back and forth the property, as Maximus taught Frea the names of the various trees and bushes and flowers they met along their path and let her guide the horse for a while. But the beautiful day had a sad end, for, at their return, they found Irmgard waiting for them by the stables, and she received her daughter with a string of angry words spoken so quickly Maximus was barely able to understand them. Irmgard was telling Frea to never again go out alone with him and reinforced their meaning with several shakes and screams.

From that day on, Frea no longer even tried to get close to him. Maximus was hurt by this, but he forced himself to understand Irmgard's point of view. He was still the enemy for her and she did not trust him. He could have tried to talk her out of her idea, but he already knew it would have been only wasted breath, and then he was afraid of how it might have ended up. It would have been highly unbecoming for a man and a master to beg his slave to "lend" him her daughter, as much as his just awoken paternal instinct regretted the loss of his young companion. If he really wanted a child to whom to teach things, he should have found a woman with whom to make one, but Maximus knew he was not yet ready to marry again. He wanted a marriage based on love, as his first one had been, and, although the wound caused by Selene's and Marcus' deaths was almost healed, he was not sure if it was appropriate to allow himself to love again. That was the reason why he avoided meeting women who might have been suitable for him, and merely visited a brothel in Trujillo when his needs became too strong. It was not perfect, but for the moment it was for the best.

Several nights later, a loud, protracted banging on his door dragged Maximus away from the dreamland, awaking him with a start. "What is it?" He called, sitting on the bed.

"May I come in, General?" It was Tullius and he sounded very worried.

"Of course." Maximus took the flint and lightened the lamp on his bedside table, as the steward stepped inside the chamber.

"General, sir, I am sorry to disturb you, but the German girl, Frea, is feeling very unwell and I need your permission to call for a surgeon..."

"Of course you have it! Send Marius to fetch Philippus in town. And tell him to mount Borostenes, he is the fastest horse of the stable." Tullius nodded and ran away, as Maximus stood up and quickly dressed, his heart loaded with worry. His steward was not an impressionable man, but he had been very concerned about Frea, which meant her condition must be really serious. Once he was ready, Maximus left his room and directed his steps to the servants quarters, catching Tullius along the way.

"Marius is gone," the steward informed him and the general nodded in approval.

"What's wrong with Frea?"

"I am not sure, General, but my wife is afraid it might be a ...miscarriage."

Maximus paled under his tan. He had forgotten the little girl had been raped before being sent to him, about two months before, and he had never thought she might have got pregnant. He felt a bout of nausea grip him, but he suppressed it, for it was not the time.

They arrived at the Germans' room and after a light knock, Maximus pushed the door open, not minding it would be seen as unseemly for a man to be present in such a situation. He had barely time to step inside the room when Irmgard launched herself at him, aiming for his face.

"You lurid bastard! You filthy Roman dog! What did you do to her?!" she shouted in her language, as her nails scratched his cheeks. Maximus struggled to grab her arms and when he was finally able to do so, he stared at her face, meeting the most furious eyes he had ever seen. There was a brief moment of calm, then she spat on his face and kicked his shins, as she submerged him with insults, both in German and in Latin, as tears of pain, fear and rage slid down her cheeks. Maximus did not react, but barely kept her in check, until, exhausted, she stopped fighting and slumped against his chest. When it happened, Maximus released her and watched as she crumbled at his feet, crying with all the desperation of a mother terrified for her only child's life. He knelt down in front of her and for the first time since buying her, he forced her to do something. He grabbed her chin in his hand and obliged her to look at him. "I never touched Frea." He stressed, his low growl cutting the air. "I would never, ever, hurt a child." He stared at her for a little longer, then he dropped his hand and stood up, walking to the bed where Frea was lying curled into a ball on her side, her hands pressed against her belly. Clelia, Tullius' wife, was sitting on the mattress near the girl, her eyes still wide because of the scene she had just witnessed.

Maximus cleaned the blood and the saliva on his cheek with the sleeve of his tunic, then murmured, "How is she?"

Clelia shook her head, "Not well. I hope the surgeon arrives soon."

Maximus nodded grimly, and knelt by the bed, caressing Frea's hair with gentle fingers.

The girl seemed to sense his presence, for she opened her eyes and, upon seeing him, she smiled tremulously at him, before gripping one of his hands and squeezing it as the pain assaulted her once again.

"That's it, little one," he whispered, "take strength from me. I will not leave you."

"It-it hurts so much..."

"I know darling, but you must be strong and brave. A healer is coming and he will make you feel better."

The girl nodded and closed her eyes. Maximus continued to caress her sweaty hair, praying Philippus would arrive soon, when he sensed someone kneel near him. It was Irmgard, and her eyes were fixed on Maximus' and Frea's still joined hands. He looked at her until she raised her head and then calmly repeated, "I did not hurt her and I never will."

"I know," the woman whispered, lowering her head in apology. It was now clear to her Frea would have not trusted that man so much in such a moment had he been the author of the rape.

Maximus nodded, acknowledging her gesture. 

Silence fell on the room, occasionally broken by Frea's moans, as the little group waited for the surgeon's arrival and, as he knelt on the floor, Irmgard at his side, Maximus could not help but think his relationship with this headstrong woman had just had a major breakthrough.

Frea survived her miscarriage, brave and strong as Maximus has willed her to be. By the following night Philippus declared her out of danger, but prescribed her medications and confined her to bed for several days. However the girl did not have time to get bored, for she received visits by all the members of the household, Maximus included.

Irmgard had been relieved from her duties to stay near her daughter, and thus she was always present when the master of the house came to talk with her child.

Frea loved his visits: not only for bringing her sweets, but because he entertained her with long tales that kept the child's mind away from the pain she still occasionally suffered.

As the days passed, Frea was no longer the only one looking forward to Maximus' visits. Irmgard too began to wait for them, enchanted as her daughter by his storytelling and intrigued by the man he had turned out to be. She was impressed by his concern and obvious care for Frea, and then shocked when she realized he was showing more interest and love for her girl than her own father had ever done. Atauwolf had always despised Frea because she was a female, but Maximus did not have such notions. All those considerations, plus the fact he had not punished her for having attacked him, made Irmgard wish to know her master better, to learn more about him, for he clearly was not the monster she had supposed him to be.

One day, she finally decided the moment had come to make a move to try and improve their relationship. Collecting all her courage, she spoke for the first time during one of his visits.

"Master," she began slowly, her voice gaining conviction along the way, "the story you have just told has a lot of resemblance with a tale that was taught to me when I was a child."

Maximus, who was sitting on a chair by Frea's bed, widened his eyes at her words: it was the first time she said something to him, apart from greeting him. He smiled encouragingly. "Really?"

"Yes." She then proceeded to tell him the tale she remembered from her childhood and at the end he smiled at her.

"You are a good storyteller, Irmgard."

"But not as good as you, Master. You are very gifted." She replied, very pleased by his praise, she who just until a few days before could not have cared less if he was content or not with her... strange how things could change so quickly.

"Thank you. I had a lot of practice with my son...Marcus loved to listen to tales." Maximus fell suddenly silent and Irmgard felt a bout of sympathy for him. She knew his boy was dead and buried at the side of his mother under a giant poplar tree in the garden. She had seen those simple graves many times while doing her duty, but till that moment she had not thought about the people resting there or about how they had died. As a parent she could imagine how he must have suffered losing his child and wished she could find some words to cheer him up. But of course, she did not know what to say: they were strangers and until only a few days ago he had been her enemy. Fortunately, Maximus shook his sadness off by himself and smiled at her and for the first time she replied to him with a smile.

"All right, ladies, it is time to return to my job. I will see you later in the evening." He stood up from the chair and Irmgard rushed to rise from her sitting position to stand, and accompanied him to the door, her heart still beating faster in reaction to his smile.

Irmgard was not the only one to have been impressed by a smile. Maximus too had been stunned by the way the German had flashed him her white teeth. His heart had beaten a little faster, and it had not been his only physical reaction. However he attributed it to the fact months had passed since he had last visited a brothel and he decided it was time to make a trip into town and take care of his physical needs.

But as the days passed, Maximus discovered himself looking at Irmgard with different eyes. Now that her fiery spirit had been tamed a little, he found her way to move, speak and relate with him very attractive. She spoke more during his visits to Frea and the trio often burst into laughter sharing jokes and tales among them. And when finally Frea recovered, and she and her mother left their room, Maximus became aware that he was always trying to catch glimpses of Irmgard as she worked around the house or the farm. He especially enjoyed looking at her as she tended at the kitchen garden, for she seemed to do it with the same care his late wife had used. But Irmgard was as different from Selene, as the sun is from the moon and perhaps this was why Maximus felt so attracted by her. Yes, attracted. After long days of soul-searching he finally came to admit he was captivated by her as a woman; that his interest was not merely due to curiosity. There was no way he could deny it after the night he had woken up, panting and painfully aroused, after having dreamt about the fight he and Irmgard had the night of Frea's miscarriage. But in his dream things had not gone as they had in reality: in his fantasy, he had imprisoned the woman against his chest and had conquered her lips with a bruising kiss, before lowering her on the nearest bed and beginning to make love to her. Waking up with the taste of her mouth and the feel of her flesh still so very alive in him, he had spent the rest of the night wondering about the dream. Maximus had thus realized he had always been attracted by Irmgard but that her cold, untrusting attitude had kept his interest at bay, even if he had always know she was very beautiful. And now that she had showed him to possess not only a body made for love and a fiery temper, but also a bright mind and basic gentleness of spirit, creating thus a heady mix, Maximus felt his heart return to life. He understood he had finally healed and he was ready to allow himself to love again.

The realization was so stunning he would have wished to shout it aloud, but instead he simply thanked his beloved Selene and Marcus for this new gift, for he believed it was their way to show him they had truly forgiven him.

However, with Maximus being the man he was, he did not let his feelings become evident, nor did he act upon them. For firstly he had yet to sort out things in his mind and secondly, Irmgard was still his slave. He would not risk that, had he made his feelings known to her, she might feel forced to respond to him or, even worse, she might respond to him out of gratitude for what he had done for Frea and herself. He had too much pride to risk something like that. But his feelings did not subside.

Maximus had always been a man of strong passion, for better or for worse. He was usually able to control himself, but having Irmgard always in front of his eyes, so near and yet so untouchable, with that braided hair he longed to free and that tempting curves he desired to caress, was often too much for him. His visits to the brothel in Trujillo became more frequent, as he slaked his frustrated lust on paid companions. The girls at the place were content about the situation, for he was generous and always considerate, but Maximus was not happy about it. He wanted and needed something more.

Maximus was not the only one to have played the "spying game" or to have realized his feelings had taken an unexpected turn. 

When Frea had recovered, Irmgard had returned to her duties with a new purpose in her mind. She no longer did what she was told to do only to avoid a possible punishment, but she performed her tasks wanting her master to be pleased by her effort, hoping Maximus would bestow again on her that beautiful smile of his.

In the beginning the German woman did not know what she was feeling for her owner. For such a long time he had been the personification of all the evil Rome had done to her people and to herself and she had hated him and what he represented. But when she had stopped regarding him as her enemy, she had began to look at him as a man - and what a man he was!

A great worker - Irmgard had been stunned the first time she had seen him work in the fields, sweating and as fatigued as his workers; she had fully expected him to simply direct the harvest sitting comfortably on his horse.

A kind master, always ready to help the members of his household and never too harsh in his demands. 

A gentle hand with children and animals. 

The more Irmgard learned about Maximus, the more she realized she had never met a man like him. And on top of everything, he was so handsome, with his strong physique, short dark hair and beard, determined chin and those stunning blue-green eyes. They reminded her of the high-mountain streams of her homeland, beautiful pools of clear and pure water in which Irmgard wished she could lose herself...

The German woman soon became aware every occasion was good to "spy" on her master, hoping to discover more about him, while she looked him move and work around with uncommon grace for a man of his size and a soldier, and although she tried to be careful, Clelia, Tullius' wife noticed her behaviour. 

One late afternoon, as Irmgard was watching as Maximus groomed his favourite horse, hidden in the kitchen and dreaming it was her hair and not Borostenes' tail he was brushing with such care, the portly cook came over to her.

"What is it that is so interesting?" The German jumped, not having heard her arrive, while Clelia put her head out of the window. "Ah, I see. I have to agree with you: it is a very entertaining spectacle to see the General work bare-chested."

Irmgard blushed crimson, and the other woman laughed, "Don't be embarrassed, he has that effect on every woman he meets. Pity he seldom notices it." 

They fell silent and returned to look at the stable yard. Maximus had finished with the horse and after washing his arms and chest with fresh water taken from a big basin, he put on his tunic and smoothed his hair. Then he directed his steps to Borostenes, jumped on his back, and headed for the roadway that led out of the farm.

"Uh-uh, so it is one of those evenings." Commented Clelia, shaking her head.

"One of those nights?" Asked Irmgard, confused by the emphasis given to the word "those". 

"Yes. The General is going to town and he will not be here for dinner." Seeing that the other woman did not understand, Clelia was more explicit, "He is visiting a brothel. He will spend the evening with the whores."

"Oh." Irmgard was shocked, but her companion did not notice, as she continued to rant. 

"It is a pity he does not allow himself to love again. He is such a good man! He deserves more than the whores. He deserves happiness. A new wife and children."

Clelia sighed then shook her head again, "Oh well, I cannot do anything for him. I can only start our dinner. Will you help me?"

The German nodded mutely, still trying to overcome the bout of jealousy that had assaulted her. She was shaken about the sense of possession she had suddenly discovered for her master, which was totally different from what she had felt for her husband.

As she began to chop vegetables for the dinner, Irmgard could not help but wish Maximus would take from her what he needed.

But despite everything, she did not act, nor did she try to make her feelings known to Maximus. First of all, she was still too awed by him. She had overheard enough talks about him to know he was very closely tied to the imperial family and a very powerful man. She felt unworthy of a man like him: she was only a German woman, uneducated and sometimes too bold for her own good. She had not the modesty or the control or the elegance of the Roman matrons she had seen in town. How could she ever dare to think a man like Maximus, who could have anybody he chose, could be interested in a little slave like her? It was pure madness. And more, she remembered what Clelia had said to her as she arrived at the house. It was just after Irmgard had left Frea to meet her master in private for the first time. She had been very tense, fully expecting to be raped as soon as the Roman was alone with her- after all it was what had happened to her with her first two masters. Why should the third be any different? Tullius' wife had noticed her agitation, and posing a hand on her shoulder, had tried to reassure her, "You don't have to be afraid, the General won't hurt you. He is a good man and he has never forced women of the household, even when we were all his slaves and would have gladly jumped into his bed." Clelia had laughed at the memory, as Irmgard had looked at her incredulously. Then the other woman had sobered and added seriously, "The General has always been faithful to his wife and he still is, even if she is dead."

For a long time the German woman had not believed those words - as her readiness of accusing him for Frea's rape proved - but she had never forgotten them, and now that she knew they were true, and that Maximus diverted his lustful attention only to paid companions in Trujillo, they no longer were a reassuring thought...what would she not give to have him act less nobly in her regards!

The axe cut a graceful arch in the air before landing on the log and chopping it in two smaller, squared pieces that fell down on the ground from the wooden chopping-block. Maximus bent forward, picked them up and threw them in a corner on his left, where other little logs already were. Then he took another big piece of wood from a nearby stack on his right, a shipment just arrived from the forests in the North of the country. The big logs needed to be reduced in size to be stored in one of the barns, and Maximus had devoted himself to that task since the early morning, happy to exercise his muscles under the still warm sun. It was already December, but the climate was very mild that year, as it often happened in Hispania, and the general had stripped down to his leggings and sleeveless under-tunic, such as to have more freedom of movement and for not sweating too much.

He repeated his picking-chopping-throwing routine a few more times until he made a wrong move raising the axe and a fiery bout of pain gripped his back, starting from the area of his kidneys and

spreading all over the rest of his torso and shoulders.

Maximus let go of the axe, and fell to his knees, struggling for breath. With an effort he reclined on the ground, for he knew the hard surface would do his back very good.

As he laid there, an arm on his chest, the other stretched out at his side, his fingers playing with the dirt, Maximus cursed Commodus and his stiletto, before berating himself for straining his muscles too much. And while he did so, he hoped none of his workers came to search for him, for he did not want to be seen in such an undignified situation.

But he was not so lucky. Irmgard had been observing him for some time, as she hanged freshly washed clothes in the back yard, secretly enjoying the view of his tanned arms at work, when she had suddenly seen him fall on his knees, a grimace of pain distorting his handsome face.

Without a second thought, she dropped the chest with the wet clothes and ran to him, her heart beating wildly with worry.

Maximus heard a noise of running feet coming in his direction and he groaned aloud when he saw who it was.

Irmgard knelt at his side and asked, "Are you all right, Master?"

He nodded, embarrassed to be caught in that way by the woman he rather wanted to impress. She was beautiful, with her cheeks reddened by her run, her hair in slight disarrange despite her omnipresent braid, and her generous breasts raising and falling at the rhythm of her hurried breath. She was hovering over him and those tempting curves were so near Maximus felt his fingers tingle with the desire of touching them. He groaned again, and turned his head away, trying to regain his control before his body betrayed his thoughts in another, more embarrassing way.

When he felt calm enough, he returned to look at her face, and noticing how worried she was, he cleared his throat and reassured her, "Everything is fine, Irmgard. I simply forgot my body is no longer what it used to be and I exaggerated. It is a momentary pain and I am sure it will pass soon." As he said so and watched her grave expression relax in a smile, Maximus could not help but rejoice at the realization she obviously cared for him and was happy he was not seriously hurt.

In the meantime Irmgard had let her eyes briefly skim over his muscled body, pondering that, at least as far she was concerned, it was still perfect, strong graceful and so very male. How much she longed to caress him, to feel if the skin of his chest was as soft as it seemed to be... Shaking her mind away from impossible wishes, she murmured, "Can I help you in some way, Master?"

Maximus nodded. "Please, give me a hand to stand up. I would like to sit for a while with my back against the wall."

"All right." Irmgard slid her arm beneath his back, thrilled by the feel of his bare skin, and helped him to sit up. Then pulling and pushing she hauled him to his feet and led him near the barn, where she assisted him as he sat down again, his back supported by the stone wall. The German woman remained standing, waiting for further requests.

"Thanks for your help, Irmgard. Why don't you sit here with me for a while? It is a bit uncomfortable to look at your face from this position- you seem so tall!" Maximus smiled broadly, and feeling her heart skip a beat, she replied his smile, before lowering herself gracefully at his side.

They stayed silent for a while, looking in front of them and enjoying each other's presence, both aware they were sharing a moment of simple intimacy, then she enquired, "Are you feeling better, Master?"

"Yes, I am. And I would feel even better if you stopped calling me "master". You can call me General or Sir, as the others do, or Maximus, which I would like even more."

"But it would not be appropriate. I am your slave, you are my owner; I could never presume to refer to you by any other name but master. The others can call you General for they are free and almost your equals, but not me." Irmgard spoke quietly, without any hint of resentment, except for the fact that her being a slave, left her with even fewer possibilities to be able to tell him how she felt in his regards.

Maximus sighed at her words, then murmured, almost to himself, "You are no longer my slave."

"What?" she whispered equally low, not sure she had heard well.

He turned to look at her with serious eyes. "You are no longer my slave. I signed the documents to free you and Frea about ten days ago. I wanted to present you with them on the night of the Saturnalia. It would have been my gift for you and your daughter."

Irmgard stared at him, barely able to absorb the enormity of what he had just said. She and Frea- free again! No more chains, no more beating, no more masters...The woman was overwhelmed.

"You-you are so kind, master. You have always been, with my daughter...and me. I-I dared to hope one day I would be set free, but I never imagined it would be so soon."

Maximus shook his head, "My original plan was to free you just after your purchase, for I can no longer tolerate the thought of a man owing another one, but your... impetuous nature made me afraid you would have left my farm at once, taking Frea with you, and I knew I would have missed her a lot. I hoped that, given some time, you would have come to like my home and decide to stay. But now I could no longer wait. I hate slavery and I was uncomfortable with the thought you and Frea belonged to me, that I had the right to do everything I wished to you and with you."

Irmgard listened to his impassioned speech, wonder plain in her eyes. "You are a peculiar man, master. I am sure not many Romans share your conviction."

Maximus laughed bitterly, "Spending a year as someone else's chattel would certainly change their minds."

"You- you mean you were a slave?" The German woman was incredulous: how was it possible her mighty general could have known the weight of the chains and the hiss of the whip?

"Yes, I was. A gladiator, sent into the arena to fight and kill for the mob's amusement."

"But- but how could it happen?"

Maximus sighed and looked briefly in front of him, before returning to concentrate on her. "It's a long story. Do you wish to hear it?"

"Yes, I do." Irmgard wanted to know everything about the man who had stolen her heart.

"It began a little more than four years ago, in the middle of the German forests..." In the next minutes, Maximus talked about his ordeal, and she listened with rapt attention, her eyes not losing a single expression of his face, as the terrible story unfolded in front of her. She felt a lump form in her throat at the pain and suffering he had to bear. No man, even a bad one, deserved such a cruel fate, let alone a gentle spirit as Maximus had proved to be.

When he finished and fell silent, Irmgard reached out her hand and shyly touched the back of his broader one, offering comfort to him. "I am sorry for your wife and son. I would have loved to meet them."

"Yes... You and Selene might have become friends, and I am sure Marcus would have loved to play with Frea..." He sighed again, then his eyes cleared and he said, more strongly, "But time is the Great Healer, and the wound of their death has mended. I will always miss them and regret the life we could not share, but I am now ready to move on with my life. I think they would wish for it too."

Irmgard nodded, amazed and touched he had been so open with her. She instinctively knew it was not an every day occurrence for him, and as far as she could tell from his slightly embarrassed expression, he had realized it too. He lowered his head and looked at the ground, his fingers nervously playing with the dirt. Then he suddenly stooped, dropped the sand, and returned to stare at her. The uncomfortable look had been replaced by an intent one and Irmgard withheld her breath as she waited for his next words.

"Irmgard, I must confess something to you. Minutes ago, I told you I freed you for I was ill at ease with slavery. I must now admit, I told you a lie. Well, it was not a real lie but not the whole truth either. I-I freed you for I could no longer bear the woman I have fallen in love with to be a slave."

There, he had said it: after days and nights of agonizing doubts and frustrated desire, Maximus had finally let his heart speak for him, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him.

"What- what did you say?" Irmgard whispered.

"I said I love you, Irmgard."  Maximus knelt in front of her and raised a trembling hand to stoke her cheek. "I love you. I love your beauty; I love your intelligence; I love your impetuousness; I love your-" His eyes fixed on her full mouth and with a groan he bent his head and kissed her.

It was a gentle kiss, a delicate and undemanding caress of lips, and Irmgard did not respond to it; instead she tensed and began to tremble. Concerned about her reaction, Maximus straightened and looked at her. She was pale, her eyes wide with shock, her lips moving without emitting any kind of sound. He felt shame assault him. What had he done? It was clear for him she had not enjoyed his attention... probably she was thinking he wanted a reward for freeing her. Suddenly overcome with embarrassment and discomfort, Maximus tilted his head and set his chin. "I am sorry, Irmgard," he said in the firmest tone he could manage. "I went too far. It won't happen again, I promise." And speaking thus, he stood up and all but run away, his emotionally-frail heart almost breaking in his chest.

"Uhmm, I wonder if he has found someone special in town."

Clelia's voice, coming from behind her back, startled Irmgard. She had thought to be alone. Reluctantly removing her eyes from the shape of Maximus riding out of the property, the German turned her head and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, this is the seventh evening in a row that he goes away. It has never happened before, hence I suppose something out of the ordinary is going on. I hope that if he has found a girl he likes, she will be worthy of him."

Irmgard nodded, fighting the sense of nausea that had assaulted her at the image of Maximus in another woman's arms. It was all her fault if she, no, they, were feeling so badly. She had had her occasion to have him for herself, and she had thrown it away, because she had not been able to respond to him.

"Irmgard? Irmgard, are you listening to me?" Clelia's concerned voice intruded her thoughts, and the German woman turned her watery eyes to look at her friend.

Tullius' wife was taken aback by the utter misery of her companion's face and she enquired, "What is it? Are you feeling unwell?"

"It's all my fault if he searches the whores' company."

"Uh? What are you saying? Please explain it to me for I don't understand."

Sensing the need to free her heart from the pain that had gripped her from that fateful morning, Irmgard told Clelia everything that had happened in the yard eight days before, from the moment Maximus had told her she was free to when he had almost ran away after his kiss. "I am sure he thinks I rejected him," she finally concluded, tears sliding along her cheeks, "but it is not so. I love him; it's just that I was too stunned to respond to him..."

"Then you must tell him." Clelia's voice was matter-of-fact, as she offered a piece of cloth to her, so she could dry her eyes and blow her nose.

"I tried! But every time I enter the room in which he is, he goes away. He is avoiding me."

"In this case, you will have to trap him where he cannot escape."

"What?!" The cold, practical tone of her friend made Irmgard stare at her as if she was mad.

"Yes, you must use some of the boldness you are famous for around here and oblige him to listen to you. You two cannot go on hurting so much when happiness is near and ready to be grabbed."

Irmgard was incredulous. "Then you don't believe it is not appropriate for a just freed woman as myself to fall in love with a man so much higher-born that me?"

"Of course not." A smile. "I think you are exactly what he needs. The General is a special man and he needs a special woman. Now that I think better, I don't remember having seen him laugh as much as since Frea and you arrived here. It was about time his mourning finished. And now, my dear, you and I are going to find a nice place where to talk in peace and plan our moves. The stake is very high and we must think of everything." And speaking thus Clelia took the still unbelieving Irmgard by the arm and led her away, her ingenious mind already working on various possibilities.

From General M. Decimus Meridius to Senator P. Anneus Gracchus, salutem dicit.

My friend,...

Maximus stopped with his stylus at mid air, before posing it on the desk with a sigh of defeat.

It was the third time he had begun that letter, but words refused to come, for he was not able to concentrate.

Closing his eyes, he leant against the back of his chair, trying to block out the sounds coming from the main triclinium, where his household was celebrating the Saturnalia, the holiday when "the servants became masters for one day". Maximus had been invited to participate, but he had refused, claiming he had to work in his study. It was not totally untrue, for he had several letters to write, but he knew the real reason for not being in the triclinium was to avoid to find himself in the same room with Irmgard. Eleven days had passed since their conversation in the yard and he had done about everything save for transferring to another farm to stay away from her. He had even taken on the habit to spend all his evenings in town, even if had not sought comfort with the lupae, but simply sat in a tavern, an almost untouched cup of wine in front of him, musing about what he should do regarding Irmgard. He was ashamed and embarrassed by his behaviour and by his lack of restraint. Perhaps he should apologize again, but he was afraid his control would betray him another time, for he was hopelessly in love and a lot of time had passed since he had last touched a woman he loved... Maximus was afraid to do something that would scare her away and he could not risk it. While they were at the farm, he could at least care for Irmgard and Frea, protect them and be sure they lacked nothing. It was better than-

Maximus' musings were interrupted by a light knock on the door.

"Come in!" He called, thinking it was Clelia bringing him a piece of the wonderful honey-cake she had been baking earlier that day. But he was wrong, for it was not Clelia but Irmgard and she was carrying no cake. Maximus inhaled sharply and rose to his feet as she stepped inside the room, closed the door and stopped with her back against its wood.

Irmgard's heart was beating furiously as she watched Maximus. He was standing behind his desk, his eyes wide in surprise, not only at her unexpected visit but, she hoped, at her different appearance too. She had freed her hair from her usual braid and let it loose, its silky curtain almost reaching past her buttocks. It had been freshly washed, and it shone like gold at the light of his lamps. Her dress too was different from what she usually wore. With Clelia's help she had used part of the money given to her, along with the document certifying her freedom, to purchase a dark blue, silver-embroiled stola, that underscored her womanly curves and loveliness much more than the homespun tunics she wore around the farm. Irmgard and her friend had bought it with the precise idea to seduce Maximus and from the way he was looking at her, the German woman could see their choice had been a good one. Now it was up to her to tell him what was in her heart and she hoped Clelia's advice to be bold and daring would be right too.

Irmgard remained silent for a while, taking in how he continued to stare at her, his beautiful blue-green irises devouring her. She thought he was especially handsome that evening, with the flames coming from lamps caressing his shining dark hair and beard and tanned skin, and dancing over his determinate features. Then, deciding to not lose any more time, she turned around and made a deliberate show of bolting the door.

"What-what are you doing?" Maximus' voice was unsteady, shocked as he was both by her actions and her looks. 

"I have come to tell you something, sir." Her tone was decisive and he closed his eyes, already dreading her next words. He was sure she was going to tell him she wanted to leave the farm.

"I have come to explain my reaction to your kiss." At that his eyes widened even more as she continued, taking a few steps in his direction, her face serious as she was wringing her hands nervously. "I hope you will forgive me for my boldness, but my people are not used to long-winded speeches. We prefer to come directly to the point."

Maximus nodded, as he waited breathlessly for her next words, a little spark of hope burning inside him. 

Irmgard took a deep breath, then advanced some more. "I have the impression you think I did not like your kiss, and thus you had been avoiding me for the past eleven days."

Maximux snorted bitterly, "It was not difficult to guess how you felt after my advances. I thought it was better for both of us if I stayed away. No sense in embarrassing both of us even more."

"Good reasoning," Irmgard was now standing just in front of him, the desk separating them, "but totally wrong, I am afraid," she leant forward, posing her hands on the table, "for I loved your kiss, Maximus."

At that and at the intense way she was looking at him, Maximus slumped back on his chair, too stunned to be barely able to articulate words. "But-but you did not react...you trembled..."

"Indeed I did so. But how would you react if you were suddenly granted your freedom and then you learned the person you had fallen in love with, the person you had always believed out of your reach, told you he loves you and then kissed you? It would be too much, too soon. As it was for me." Irmgard concluded, her eyes fixed on his face as he digested what she had just said.

"You love me?" Hope and incredulity mixed in his tone.

"Yes. I have loved you for many months."

"But I thought you hated me, despised me..."

"In the beginning it was so, I cannot deny it. I considered you the evil incarnate and my enemy. But then, I saw how gentle you were with Frea during her illness, and I stopped seeing you as a Roman, but I considered you just a man and I was impressed by what I saw. You are like no man I have ever met..." Her tone was full of awe and Maximus could not help but smile, only to sober and feel a shiver run along his spine as her expression became deadly serious.

"I want you," Irmgard murmured, switching to her native German, "I want you now. I am tired of waiting."

He watched her circle the desk and close on him, almost paralyzed by her predatory, burning gaze. He had never imagined something like that was going to happen to him. None of the women he had known in his life had ever been so bold, so alluring so- Maximus grunted in surprise as she sat on his lap, pressing against his already aroused manhood, and circled his neck with her arms. Her closeness, her perfume and warmth were startling and heady. He had not expected her to do this, not even in the back of his mind.

"You are beautiful," Irmgard whispered in her language, before slipping her hands into his hair and pushing his head forward, claiming his mouth with a kiss. He responded as she suckled at his lips, parting them to taste his mouth and he replied to her actions with equal ardour, feeling her shudder as his tongue grazed along the roof of her mouth.

Maximus' head was spinning as they separated to catch some air. He could not believe he was doing this in his study, with all his household gathered in a nearby room. But it felt so right, so good he could not stop. Leaning forward, he captured her mouth again, his hands no longer still at his sides but buried in her long, silky mane. Irmgard's hands too were moving, as she caressed his neck and then tried to insinuate beneath his tunic, to touch the skin of his back and chest.

Maximus groaned aloud and took her by the waist, pressing her more closely to himself. He wanted - needed - more contact between them.

Irmgard read in his mind for, between kisses, her hands dropped to his lap and unbuckled his belt, throwing it away when she was done. He did the same with the slash of her dress, then he began to pull at the fabric. A frustrated moan escaped Maximus' lips as it refused to loosen.

"Stand up, please, I can't do anything in this position."

Irmgard nodded and rising on shaking legs, she freed herself from her clothes, finally standing naked in front of him, excited and unashamed. Maximus' eyes drank in her beauty roaming over her rosy-tipped, proud breasts to her wide hips and tiny waist, stopping at the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs, to finally return to her face.

"You are beautiful." He repeated her words in a murmur, and she smiled, before straddling his thighs as he remained sitting on the chair. Luckily the seat was large enough to accommodate her bent knees without much difficulty, although they could not care less in their aroused state.

Irmgard took the lower helm of Maximus' tunic and tugged at it, peeling it away from his body, exposing his bare flesh in the lamp light, as he caressed her back and nibbled and licked at her neck, savouring the taste of her skin. She pushed his face away just for the time needed to free himself from his bunched tunic, which she tossed carelessly aside. Finally they were naked, his loincloth the only remaining barrier between them, her soft feminine curves pressed to his male solid form.

He was so strong, his frame broad and sculpted, and Irmgard loved him, first with her hands, circling and lightly pinching his nipples, then with her mouth, licking and nibbling at the wide expanse of his chest, as he groaned and threw back his head, eyes closed in sheer pleasure. Then Maximus took control again, his hand sliding along her bare thighs, trailing closer and closer to the liquid heat between her legs, and kissing her breasts, his tongue lavishing attention on the stiff nipples. It was now Irmgard's turn to moan aloud, as she closed her eyes and tightened her hands around his bare back, digging fingertips into the lines of muscles to avoid falling down from the chair so weak with desire was her body now.

"Maximus..." she moaned in desperate need.

He grunted, understanding all to well what she wanted. Wrapping an arm around her back, he unbound his loincloth, freeing his hips and straining erection, his muscles taut with tension that demanded release. Maximus trailed a path of fire with his tongue from Irmgard's shoulder to her mouth, claiming it for a last, deep, searing kiss before he looked at her, a burning, urgent query in his eyes.

"Yes...." Was her reply as she rose on her knees and spread herself on top of his thighs, and he guided his hard manhood into her slit. There was a momentary pause, as they stared panting at each other's face, capturing that moment of ecstatic anticipation, then she lowered herself onto him, impaling herself with a loud moan.

Only when he felt engulfed by her hot, slick sheath, her inner muscles milking him, Maximus seemed to finally regain control of his brain. His gaze lucid and serious, he whispered, "Look at me."

Irmgard obeyed, her eyes hooded with need and desire.

"I love you," he murmured, wanting to say it again before he made her totally his.

"I love you too," she replied, her voice choking with emotion. Then a wicked smile appeared on her lips, "and now I am going to ride you, my beautiful Roman stallion."

They began to move in unison, she rocking and him thrusting, moaning and panting as they chased after their pleasure, bodies slick with perspiration and fingers dipping deeply in each other's muscles, as their carnal rhythm increased.

Suddenly Maximus embraced Irmgard hard and rose to his feet, walking two steps forward and lying her with her back on his desk. She wrapped her legs around his hips, moaning in approval as the new position stroke fresh nerves for both of them, and he began to thrust in earnest, not minding the objects that fell off the table as it rocked under his powerful pushes.

Maximus was rapidly losing his control as Irmgard arched underneath him, lips parted, her fingernails scratching his back as she spurred him to give her more. He kissed and nipped at her exposed throat, everything to distract himself and stave off his climax. He could not resist much longer... it had been so long since he had really made love...so long since he had longed to create life in the womb of a woman...so long...Maximus drove himself harder and faster inside Irmgard, whose body was now shaking with unreleased tension, her legs clamped around his buttocks and thighs. As he felt his body reach its breaking point, he slipped a hand where they bodies joined and grazed her most sensible flesh, having the satisfaction of feeling her tighten around him and scream in ecstasy before his orgasm crashed over him and his lustful cries joined hers.

When he recovered his senses, Maximus became aware of how uncomfortable Irmgard had to be, pressed as she was against the hard desk, with his body slumped over hers. He pushed himself up on his hands and tried to back away, but Irmgard crossed her calves behind his thighs.

"Don't move," she murmured softly, her eyes still closed, "stay a little more."

Maximus smiled. He too wanted to remain inside her, even if his sated flesh was already softening. He bent forward again and rained her eyelids, cheeks and nose with gentle, affectionate kisses. Then he moved to her mouth, she opened it, and they kissed long and deeply.

Maximus finally slipped outside Irmgard causing her to pout. He grinned and whispered suggestively into her ear, "Give me some time to recover, and I will be back."

The German woman opened her eyes and smiled, "I will make sure you do so!" 

"But not in the study! I can't believe we made love only a few feet away from the room where the entire household is gathered."

Irmgard's hand rose to caress his lips and he used the occasion to kiss her fingers. "I agree, it is not the best of places for certain activities, but it is somehow exciting to know they are so near..."

"Perhaps, but don't expect me to repeat this!" Maximus tried to assume a serious expression, but failed miserably and his face widened again in a grin. "Well, at least not this evening."

They both laughed, then Maximus straightened his back and helped Irmgard to sit on the edge of the table. They sobered as they looked at each other, saying with their eyes things their lips could not, silently sharing their happiness and the communion of their souls. Then they embraced with strength, pressing one against the other in a way that was no longer lustful or urgent, as they basked in the knowledge they were now together, a beautiful future stretching in front of them, despite the difficulties a match like theirs was going to meet.

Finally, after having seen the destruction of their homes; after having lost everything they held dear; after having tasted the bitter flavour of slavery mingled with that of their tears, the gods, be it her German ones or his Roman ones, had granted them their reward.

They had given them freedom. 

They had given them peace. 

They had given them love.

Forever.