Proximo was sitting in the shadow of a tent, observing his most expert gladiators break in a group of new recruits, and deciding who would be marked as promising with the red paint, and who would instead carry the yellow of the plodders, when one of his guards drew his attention away.

"Master, there are soldiers wanting to speak with you. They seem to be all officers and one of them... Well, he looks like the Spaniard, sir."

The lanista's eyebrows arched in perplexity, then leant back on his chair, stretching his neck to look at where the guard was pointing. He saw three men in uniform: two were observing the compound, while the other, who really looked like Maximus was staring in his direction.

Proximo stood up and, after ordering his gladiators to pause, walked to where the soldiers were standing. With each step he took, he realized the man in armour was indeed the Spaniard, and that he sported the ensigns of a general. The other two legionaries instead, while being officers too, seemed to act as bodyguards, by the way they were surveying the place and staring at his approaching figure.

Proximo stopped in front of  Maximus and asked, "What can I do for you...general?"

The man moved closer to him. "I wish to ask you a favour, Proximo."

The old lanista frowned. What could it be? And how had been his former gladiator been restored in the army? "What is it?"

"I am leaving tomorrow for Rome. I would like to ask you to watch over my family while I am away."

"Your family?" Proximo was surprised.

"Yes...Lydah, her brother Titus and our unborn child. They live at the farm, but I will bring them here if you agree to help me."

"Why me?" asked Proximo.

"Because I trust you, Proximo. Despite everything, I believe you are a good man." Maximus looked straight at his eyes, and the older man lowered his head, embarrassed but also pleased someone might consider him worthy to be trusted with his beloved. It was the first time something like that happened in his life and he could not help but feel proud.

"Yes, I will look after them. Bring them here this afternoon, so we can meet."

The Spaniard smiled slightly. "Thank you, Proximo."

He nodded briefly then abruptly asked, "Who are you?"

"My complete name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, General of the Felix Legions and Commander of the Army of the North under Marcus Aurelius," was the prompt answer.

Proximo was not as surprised as he should have been- he had always sensed the Spaniard was not a common soldier and deserter, although he had never imagined him to be so high ranking...To be the famous officer the echoes of whose victories in Germania had reached Zucchabar too.

"How did you end up a slave?"

"When the late Caesar passed away, I refused to swear loyalty to his son for I believed he had killed his own father. Thus Commodus sentenced me and my family to death. I was able to escape and, wounded, I galloped home in Hispania to save my wife and son. I was late, and then I was captured and reduced to slavery."

Proximo nodded, as he got an answer to several of his questions. "And now? I doubt you have regained your position with Caesar's approval," he pointed at Maximus' uniform.

The Spaniard smiled coldly. "I took back what was mine for my army wanted me to do so. I will go to Rome and make sure Commodus does not do any more damages- as his father asked me on the day he was killed."

Proximo breathed harshly and looked away, as his mind returned to a day of almost twenty years before when, in the Colosseum, Rome's giant arena, in front of fifty thousand persons, Marcus Aurelius had stepped in front of him and touched his shoulder with a wooden sword, the rudius.

"You are free now, Antoninus Proximo." The emperor had proclaimed, calling him with his new name. "Congratulations." Proximo had reached out to take the rudius Caesar was handing to him trembling with emotions, before falling to his knee in gratitude and respect for that wise, gentle-eyed man named Marcus Aurelius. The man that had been killed by his own son...

The lanista returned to the present and, facing the soldier he hissed, "When you plant your sword in that bastard's heart, General, do it for me too. Marcus Aurelius was the man who gave me my freedom."

Maximus' eyes widened. "Your freedom?"

"Yes. I too have been a gladiator and the emperor freed me. My name should be Antoninus Proximo, after Marcus Aurelius, but an idiot of scribe wrote it wrongly on the documents- so I am Antonius."

Maximus nodded. "I see." A pause, as he looked hard at the older man's eyes. "I won't forget."

"I am sure of it." Proximo straightened and raising his right fist, he tapped his chest in the military salute. "Hail, General Maximus."

"Hail, Antoninus Proximo." The Spaniard replied to the gesture, before bowing his head and walking away followed by his men.

The next day Lydah and Titus watched Maximus and his legion's departure from the roof of Proximo's school. The young woman's vision was blurred by tears and she gripped her brother's hand so tightly the boy whimpered in protest.

Their parting, the one they had in the privacy of their bedroom, had been agonizing. Maximus had knelt in front of her and, putting his hand over her still flat belly, had recognized the unborn baby as his child, in case he would not be able to be present for the naming day. Lydah had covered his hand with hers and, despite her resolution to be strong, she had not be able to stop her tears. She had made Maximus promise time and again he would return to her, even if it had made little to assuage her worries. She was not really afraid to be left alone - she was resourceful and also Maximus had transferred to her the property of the little farm and given her all the money he had - but she was terrified to not see him again, so much her heart almost broke at the mere thought of it.

"Are you well, lady?" A male voice asked and both the siblings turned around to see Proximo standing behind them.

"Yes- I think so," she murmured, still feeling a bit ill-at-ease with the grey-haired, grey-bearded man. It was not his fault; he had been gentle and solicitous in their regards, but his home and his way of living were not exactly what Lydah needed to soothe her strained nerves. Indeed she was concerned Titus might see something shocking, or walk too close to the cages that hosted lions, or touch some weapon...But Maximus trusted the man, and she trusted his judgement.

"Good," commented the lanista and he stared at the horizon, where the long column of soldiers had almost disappeared along the dusty road that led to the coast. "You must not be afraid, lady. He will be back; I am sure of it."

Lydah swallowed hard. "I pray you are right, sir."

"Oh-oh, I know I am." Proximo smiled kindly. "And now, why don't you come down in the shadow of the porch? It is becoming too hot up there."

She sighed, "Yes, you are right. Come Titus, let's go down."

And with a last, longing look to the road, Lydah followed Proximo to the stairs.

The journey to Ostia progressed without problems for Maximus and the Felix Legion. The soldiers, from the officers to the simple enlisted men, had been ecstatic to discover their general was still alive and again with them, to the point Maximus had to use all his firmness to avoid their throwing a celebration in his honour. But he could not stop them from performing an even more important and touching gesture in his regards- a public oath of loyalty, like those that only the great commanders of the republican age had ever received.

Since his return, Maximus had spent each evening, after the legion had stopped for the night and raised the camp, summoning a few centuries at time and revealing to them the reasons behind his "execution" and his plans for Commodus. He had explained to each and every legionary he had no documents to prove Marcus Aurelius' will, and that the risks of being branded as traitors were high, offering to leave behind without any kind of reprisal the men who did not want to take part in the action.

The legion's reply had been most emphatic: one morning, before the column began its daily march, the various centuries had paraded in front of Maximus' horse and each man had stopped briefly to salute him with his right fist pressed on his heart. Maximus had been almost moved to tears by his men's loyalty and trust, and it had left him embarrassed, proud and even more determined not to fail in his task.

During the travel Cicero also gave Maximus his belongings, or at least what he had been able to save in Germania from the Praetorians who had devastated his tent: his cavalry sword, his iron citizen ring and, more importantly, the wooden figurines of Selene and Marcus. Maximus kissed them reverently and whispered to his beloved that even though he had now a new family, he would never forget them and always hold them dear and special in his heart. That night, when he fell asleep on board the ship sailing to Italia, he dreamed about his wife and son, and saw them happy and carefree in Elysium, as they murmured to him to live his life at the fullest and to be happy for them too. Maximus also dreamed of Marcus Aurelius, and the old, wise man was looking at him with affectionate, approving eyes, which he took as a sign the late Caesar had blessed his plan.

However, Maximus spent much of his private time thinking about Lydah, Titus and their unborn child. He missed them acutely, even more than he had thought. His bed was cold and empty without Lydah's small frame cuddling near him or sleeping with her head on his shoulder. More then once he had awakened in the middle of the night because she had not been at his side when, in his sleep, he had reached for her. The memory of that night in Zucchabar was burnt into his mind and made his longing almost too much to bear. And also, his tent was too silent without Titus' childish talk and little cries and his arms already longed to embrace him and his sister again. He had known them for a relatively little time, and yet they had slid under his skin so deeply it was almost impossible to be away from them. More than once the thought of renouncing everything and returning to them had crossed Maximus' mind, but he knew he would no longer be able to live with himself if he did so. And so, he commended Lydah and Titus to the gods every night, praying his blessed father to protect them with ready sword, and to whisper to them he would be back soon.

Once in Ostia, the Felix legion settled in its camp, while a messenger was sent to Camillus' house in Rome to inform him of the army's arrival. 

As predicted - and for once hoped - the man did not bother to go to visit the troops whom he believed to be his, but simply told the courier to inform Valerius and the other officers the Ovation was scheduled four days later. That meant that Maximus and his men had three days to set their plan in motions.

The first step was to send legionaries into Rome dressed as civilians with the task of taking positions near the Praetorian barracks and the gates. The soldiers - whose weapons and uniforms were smuggled inside the city walls during the night hidden in wagons loaded with innocent looking merchandise- had to spend a couple of days studying the lay out of the streets where they might be forced to fight, and to learn as much as possible about the Praetorians' routine.

The second steps, as Maximus had imagined, proved to be more difficult. There was not enough time to organize an encounter between himself and the senators that opposed Commodus. Firstly, even knowing for sure who they were, it would have taken days to gain their trust - and have them earn his own - enough to be able to reveal to them what was going to happen and obtain their support.

And secondly, Rome was said to be full of Commodus' spies, and if it were true, they were certainly keeping the men Caesar considered dangerous, or thought might be, under control. No, the only possible solution was to contact Lucilla and hope in her help to act as go-between with the senators, but, as much as Maximus would have preferred to carry out the task himself, he was aware he had to delegate it to someone else. He could not risk having someone spot and recognize him, and he could not predict how Lucilla would react upon seeing him alive: a startled cry or a rash gesture could be enough to ruin both of them. So Maximus gave this ever-important task to Cicero, for he trusted him unconditionally, and because he knew the Celt longed for a chance to redeem himself for his inability to do something to help his general in Germania. He needed to do it, not in his master's eyes, but in his own.

It had been easy for Cicero to know where to start to look for Lucilla: she lived in the Imperial Palace on the Palatine hill, which was easily reachable and its main gate well recognizable. But the second part of his job - contacting the Augusta - was much more complicated. He dressed himself as a beggar and found a nice position in a large, commercial road that ran below the palace and, learnt from the local shop sellers and the inn's patrons about her habits and what her litter looked like; he prepared himself to wait. A wait which proved to be very long and full of disappointments.

Finally on the morning of the third day, the last one he could spend in Rome, Cicero saw the gates open and a litter that matched the descriptions given to him walk down the clivus that lead from the Palace to the street where he was. The little conveyance was preceded by Praetorians who opened the way for it by pushing and pulling the people away. Elbowing his way through the crowd, Cicero ran at the side of the litter, trying to see its occupant. His heart almost jumped when he recognized Lucilla's features, and pulling up the hood of his black cape, he moved forward, wanting to reach her.

"Back!" ordered one of her guards, pushing him away, but Cicero did not relent.

"My lady!" he shouted, trying to attract her attention, "I served your father at Vindobona!"

Lucilla half turned her head to him, but did not show much interest.

"Back!" The guards pushed him roughly away, almost causing Cicero to lose his footing, but he regained his balance quickly and tried again. Too much was at stake and he could not afford to fail.

"My lady, I served your father at Vindobona!" he called again, with a louder tone, but it did not work.

The guard moved toward him to push him away, but this time Cicero sidestepped him and was able to approach the litter.

"And I served General Maximus," he said when he was close enough for Lucilla to hear him without having to shout. "I serve him still!"

It was a gamble, but it worked.

"Stop! Stop!" Lucilla commanded the litter-bearers, who came to an immediate halt. "Stand back!" she then ordered the Praetorians that had tried to come closer.

Cicero rushed to kneel in front of her, baring his head and bowed it in submission- the stance of beggar searching for money. "Thank you, My lady," he said, looking at her. She was as beautiful as he remembered her to be from Germania, but the lines around her eyes and mouth betrayed the constant tension she was living in. The General had been right to try to contact her.

"What did you say?" Lucilla asked quickly, the expression on her face both shocked and hopeful.

"The General is still alive and ready to take control of the city."

Lucilla's eyes widened and Cicero could see how hard it was for her to not burst out with a stunned "What!?" There were also thousand of questions she wanted to ask, but she was smart and she knew it was not the time.

"When?" she whispered, deadly serious.

"Tomorrow. During Camillus' Ovation. The General says to keep yourself and your son away from your brother. He also asks you to alert the senators you trust most to be ready to cope with a critical situation. To prove his words, the General sent you this," and he took out Maximus' citizen ring, which had been a present by Lucilla - from the days when they had been very close and he had lost his old one- and a little piece of papyrus which said:

"Many things change, but not everything." 

Lucilla read the line,then nodded, crumpling the little note in her hand. "Tell him everything will be ready," she whispered, before adding aloud, "For your loyalty, soldier," she handed him a coin.

"Thank you, my lady," he replied, bowing deeply, before backing away as the litter started to move again.

Cicero watched it till it disappeared in the crowded street, before allowing himself a satisfied smile.

Everything was going as planned.

The following day dawned sunny and slightly windy over the camp the Felix Legion had raised outside of Rome's walls.

Maximus had been up since the sun had first broken the darkness, too charged up to stay in his bed a minute more. He had dressed and then walked to a low hill nearby, and lost himself in the contemplation of the town sprawled in front of him, alive and bursting with activities even during the night. As he had stared at the flux of wagons loaded with merchandise riding to and from the city, he had thought that in only a few hours he would know if the day that had just begun would be the first of a new course for the Urbs- and for himself. Then, a robin landed on a low bush and cocked its head in his direction, as if it was wondering why he was so thoughtful. Maximus had looked back at it, unconsciously tilting his head in the same way, and had smiled, as the wind ruffled his hair and the small creature's feathers. He remembered having a similar experience in Germania before the final battle, and that time the omen had been a good one, at least as far as the war had been concerned. He hoped it would be the same that day. The plump bird continued to stare at him for a while, then flew off, and Maximus followed him with his gaze, just as he had done years before in the cold forest of the north. But this time, as he watched the robin disappear, his eyes did not see charred, burned trees and mud-covered roads, but the luxuriant valley of the Tiber river- on green and blond fecund fields. Everything around him spoke of life, not of death as it had been that time, and Maximus took it as another positive omen.

He would not fail and the gods, this time, would be at his side till the end. He would not fail and he would return to his family to never leave them again. To see Titus and his child grow up to adulthood and to grow old near Lydah. That would be his reward after so many sufferings and nobody was going to take it way from him.

Maximus' gaze hardened. He was ready for battle. He threw a last look to Rome, then turned around to descend the hill, his wine-red cloak whirling around him.

A couple of hours later, a commotion in the camp alerted Maximus of Camillus' arrival. He stood up from the chair where he had been sitting and eating a light breakfast, and walked to the tent flap, pushing it aside to give a look to what was happening outside. He saw the other general being surrounded by his officers and somehow being convinced to enter one of the tents - from where he would not leave alive. Maximus had not thought it necessary to kill the man, but the soldiers were too angry with Camillus, for he had always considered them as animals to send to the slaughter house while he reaped the reward of their sacrifices and their blood. So he had to let them do as they wished, understanding he was not the only one deserving to get his revenge.

When everything was done, Valerius emerged from the tent carrying Camillus' decorated armour and ornate helmet and handed it to Maximus, who put it on with Cicero's help. Once ready, he turned to face the Celt and taking him by a forearm he said, "Be ready to escape, my friend. I don't want to have you on my conscience too if something goes wrong. Escape and go back in Africa, to Lydah and Titus and my unborn child. Tell them I loved them and please promise me you will look after them."

Cicero swallowed hard under Maximus' urgent stare, before he replied. "You know you don't need ask me for this. Of course I would do it. But it won't be necessary: you will win today, Maximus, and you will bring your love to them yourself when everything is ended. The gods are with you today."

Maximus nodded, "Then it will be so." A little smile. "It is time to go. I will see you later, Cicero."

And speaking so he left the tent and walked to where Camillus' grey horse was awaiting. The Felix legion was already in marching formation and saluted him sharply, "Hail General!"

He nodded his head and jumped into the saddle, leading his horse to the middle of the column, where the cavalry was. He took his place in the middle of the group, taking care to surround himself with riders on taller than average horses, so that their big frames would somehow cover him. That precaution, added to the helmet's cheek-guards and a head kept lowered, would help him to keep his identity hidden till the moment to strike arrived.

"Are we ready?" Maximus asked Valerius and Sabinus and the two officers replied in unison.

"Just give the order, General."

Maximus gestured with his head to the road. "Then let's do it. Felix Legion, advance!"

Valrius and Sabinus nodded and hurried to take their positions, repeating the command to move to the centurions, and in less than a minute the column moved forward, proceeding toward the city with determination.

The soldiers' rhythmic steps did not falter even when they entered the Triumphal Gate - which had been opened especially for the occasion - and thus crossed the invisible line after which they could no longer back away- even though, in truth, they had already done it when they had killed Camillus.

As they advanced along the arranged itinerary conceived to give as much visibility as possible to the army, so that all Rome could see the victorious general and his men, Maximus observed his surroundings with quick, attentive glances. The Urbs was spectacular, all marble and gilded statues, tall arches and magnificent buildings, so impressive Maximus felt awed by them. However he did not allow his attention to wander too much, but concentrated on what was going on. Although he had never witnessed a Triumph or an Ovation in person, he had read enough descriptions of such events to know this one was very low-key. Not only was the marching legion not preceded by the Civic Escort or by the flutes and lyres, but there were no spoils of war or captives to show to the scarce crowd he spotted lined along the streets. Maximus was very pleased to notice this detail for, it not only demonstrated the populace knew the event was but a farce, but, more importantly meant there would less chance that some innocents might be caught in the possible battle between the Felix Legion and the Praetorians.

Along the way he also spotted some of the soldiers he had sent forward mingled with the crowd, and each of them nodded at his passage, announcing their readiness to act as soon as a single, flaming arrow would fly in blue sky- the signal that it was once more time to unleash hell.

Maximus felt calm, focused on what he had to do. He was aware that the outcome of the day depended on how quickly he would be able to eliminate Commodus. He hated to kill in cold blood, even if it was his most hated enemy, but he knew there was no other way. Commodus had to die quickly, before any attempted reaction by the Praetorians. Surprise was their best weapon and they had to use it, hoping that the resulting shock would be enough to avoid a bloody battle.

Finally, announced by the resounding hoof-beats on the paved road, the procession turned into the large road that led to the Capitol Hill and Maximus allowed himself to raise his head to give a good look in front of him. Although he was still far away, he could see Commodus awaiting at the top of the marble stairway, with some black-clad Praetorians nearby, but not too close...Good.

Maximus lowered his head again as the legion covered the last tract of road and lined up in front of the steps. The soldiers' armour shone under the sun after a thorough polishing, an impressive spectacle for the onlookers, who would have been even more impressed if they knew each man had spent an much more time sharpening his weapons than taking care of his cuirass.

Maximus reined his horse to a halt in the corridor created by the two wings of soldiers and jumped down from the saddle, having taking care to position his steed in a way its body covered him from Commodus' sight. In this way he was able to give unnoticed, silent orders, to his men, who nodded in acknowledgement. Then he circled the horse and moved to the stairway as Valerius, Sabinus and other officers surrounded him in what looked like an honour-guard but was instead a protective shield. All the men put their right hands over the hilt of their swords in a way that seemed mostly choreographic and began to mount the steps. Maximus' hand was not poised over his gladius, but gripped the hilt of his dagger, but the move was not visible to the onlookers for he had pulled a fold of his cloak to cover it. He was calm and focused as the distance between him and Commodus decreased. His heart was beating steadily and his breath was controlled, but he was like a lion ready to jump over his prey.

When the group reached the top, Maximus' officers created a little circle around him and the emperor. Again it looked like an innocent manoeuvre, but the men had effectively interposed themselves between Caesar and his Praetorians.

Maximus found himself in Commodus' presence for the first time in more than four years and tensed his muscles, ready to strike. But first he wanted his enemy to see who really was the man in front of him and to know why he would soon lose his life. He did not want it to be a mere revenge - he needed it to be an act of justice.

Ignorant about what was going to happen, Commodus walked closer to the man standing in front of him, his head bowed.

"Welcome back, General Camillus. Rome is happy to salute Her hero's return." Caesar's voice sounded slightly bored and annoyed. He had obliged the Senate to grant an Ovation to Camillus because of the money offered to him, but he did not like to give honours to other people. "My friend," he went on, when the only reply he got from the soldier in front of him was an even deeper bow. "Raise your head and remove your helmet, so I can crown you with the golden laurel befitting a hero."

Maximus turned around and removed his helmet, throwing it to the ground as his hand went back to the dagger.

Commodus and the Praetorians were startled by the sudden clang, while the Felix Legion's officers understood it was time to act, and so did the soldiers down in the street, unsheathing their swords as a single man, while a flaming arrow crossed the sky.

"What is happening?!" screamed Commodus, "How dare you to show me your back and not answer me?"

Maximus turned slowly around, the hand gripping firmly the dagger, and raised his head to look straight in Commodus' eyes. Caesar gasped aloud and his eyes widened in surprise, then in understanding, and finally in fear, but before he could open his mouth, Maximus was on him, grabbing him and pushing the dagger against his throat.

"The time of honouring yourself has come to an end, Highness. You have finished causing death and destruction." A pause, as their eyes locked and Commodus understood what was going to happen. "Your father's wish shall be realized," Maximus concluded with solemnity, before thrusting his blade in the back of Commodus' neck, in an approximation of a military execution.

The lifeless body crumbled at the soldier's feet with a loud thud, which was followed by silence and stillness. Maximus looked down at the youth: he felt no pleasure in seeing him dead just relief and regret- regret for everything had happened and had led to that moment. He even felt pity for Commodus, for the rage with which, years before, he would have gladly pulled his enemy's heart out with his bare hands, had disappeared along the way.

Maximus then raised his head to look around him, as he unsheathed his sword. He was expecting the Praetorians to attack at any moment, but instead they remained still, staring at the soldiers, at the body lying on the pavement and at the enlarging red stain on the marble. The guards seemed to not know what to do, including their Prefect. Maximus watched impassibly as Quintus' gaze moved from him to the assembled army and back to his former commander. He was not stupid; he knew how deadly the Felix Legion was and probably also realized how angry the men were. So he chose to do the best possible thing for everyone involved: he let his sword fall to the ground and surrendered, as he ordered his men to do the same.

They did.

At Valerius' command, the legionaries ran up the steps and took care of the Praetorians, pushing them in a corner and carrying away their weapons, as Quintus tried to lock his gaze with Maximus'. The Prefect was afraid for his life, but his former commander could not answer his silent question- not yet. Maximus felt no desire to take his life too, for he did not wish to have any more blood on his hands, but he knew Quintus would have to pay for what he and his men did under Commodus' reign- but that would be a decision the Senate would have to take care of.

As for him, his entire attention was now concentrated on two figures that had just emerged from the Palace: one was Lucilla, the other was a white-haired, white bearded man wearing the purple-striped toga of a senator. They walked straight to Maximus' position then they stopped and threw a look to Commodus' corpse. Lucilla briefly closed her eyes, as if she mentally recommending her brother's soul to the gods, then she nodded her head, and turned to face Maximus.

He bowed his head in salute and she did the same. Then she reached out to take his hand and, before he was able to understand what she planned to do, she brought it to her lips and kissed its back.

"Hail Maximus...Caesar..." she said aloud and the Felix Legion erupted in a thunderous roar of jubilee at the realization it was indeed a new day for Rome.

Lydah was on the roof of Proximo's school, sitting over the low wall that delimitated the area. She was hugging her bent knees as much as her belly, which was beginning to show signs of her pregnancy, allowed her to do. She was dressed in the white stola she had worn the first time she had visited Maximus' farm, and the breeze coming from the desert made the light linen fabric whirl around her, as her long, uncoiled, hair continued to fall over her face. But she did not mind the slight annoyance, as she kept on pushing the tendrils away, her green eyes fixed far away, on the winding road that led over the mountains toward the sea. On the road along which Maximus had disappeared a little more than two months before.

Lydah had taken to spending much of her free time staring at it, either from the top of the school or inside the room Proximo had assigned to her and Titus in his house. And her free time was plentiful in those days, for the old lanista had taken very seriously his role of guardian and did not let her do anything more strenuous than sew or tidy her room. He had insisted she and Titus move to live with him and allowed her to spend some time at the farm but, concerned about her condition, he always went with her and together they would observe his slaves do the jobs Lydah instructed them to do. She appreciated the old man's attentiveness for, in the past two months she had come to like him very much, learning that behind that hard exterior he had a soft spot for women and children, but having little to do allowed her too much time to think- and worry.

She tried to busy herself in Titus' play and studies, but her heart was not there; it was in Rome, with Maximus.

That late afternoon was not different. Lydah was looking at the landscape, but her mind was far away. What was Maximus doing in that moment? Was he all right? Was he thinking about her?

She suddenly snapped out of her reverie when she saw a cloud of dust appear far away along the road, and she straightened her back and squinted her eyes to have a better view. However her shoulders soon slumped as it turned to be only a Bedouin riding a donkey.

Lydah sighed in disappointment, adjusted her position and returned to stare at the road. A few minutes later, the sight of another rider - this time mounted on a galloping horse - alerted her, but again her hopes were crushed. It was not Maximus. The young woman was about to let her gaze wander more at north along the road, when she noticed the rider was coming in the school's direction. Lydah stood up and leant forward over the wall, looking downwards, seeing the rider stop his horse in front of the gladiatorial compound's gates.

"I have a letter for Antonius Proximo," he called, and one of the guards let him inside. 

Curious and more than a little hopeful, Lydah followed the messenger's progress in the courtyard by walking parallel to him on the roof, stopping when she saw Proximo came to receive the man.

They exchanged a few words then the courier took a scroll from his leather bag, handed it to the lanista and walked away.

From her position, Lydah watched Proximo break the seals and unroll the papyrus, causing a little sheet to slide down and fall on the sand. The lanista bent to retrieve it and started to read. She observed his eyes move back and forth the lines until he stopped and raised his head, scanning the roof until he found her and his gaze locked with hers. They stared at each other and Lydah's heart began to race when a big smile appeared on his face as he indicated the scroll.

"Good news from Rome!" he shouted, then added quickly, "Stay as you are lady, I will come to you."

Lydah nodded, but could not prevent herself from walking to where the stone stairway was located and wait there for the old man, all the while willing him to be as fast as possible. And when he finally was in front of her, he did not say a word, but simply handed the scroll to her.

Lydah unrolled it with trembling hands and her heart seemed to skip a beat when she read its contents.

From Maximus Decimus Meridius to my beloved Lydah, salutem dicit!

 

Light of my eyes, I trust this letter finds you and Titus well. How are you feeling? Are you getting rounder with our child? I wish I could see you now! Is the pregnancy causing you problems? I hope not. I pray the gods each night to keep you healthy and comfortable. As for me, I will try to ease your worries regarding myself with this letter.

It is ended, my love. Commodus is no more. He died by my hand yesterday morning. It was quick and painless and now he can no longer hurt people. I feel as if a great weight has been taken away from my shoulders and I am now free to begin a new life with you, Lydah. I will marry you on my return, my love, and we will always stay together- I will never leave you again.

However, and it pains me to say it, the time to return to you is still far away. I am afraid it will be months before I can leave, there are so many things I have to do here. I must ensure that Marcus Aurelius' wishes will be respected and, from what I have seen till now, I have the feeling it will not be an easy job.

The Senate held a meeting just after Commodus' death, during which I explained to the senators why I acted as I did, and made clear I am not interested to take the power for myself. I told them I intend to remain in Rome just the time needed to establish a new government then I will leave and retire to private life - for good.

Many a senator was sceptical about my words, for they did not believe I can renounce the power now that is firmly in my hands, but the Augusta, Lucilla, (Marcus Aurelius' daughter - I have known her for a long time) and a senator named Gracchus (the one who led the opposition against Commodus) supported me.

After a long discussion, too boring to be reported here and that confirmed, if there were any doubt, that I am not suited to politics, the Senate declared my actions had been legitimate and that there would not be any disciplinary action against the Felix Legion or myself. The assembly restored me to my previous status, clearing my name of any accusation of treason. And more, they awarded me the Triumph for my victories in Germania and for freeing Rome from a tyrant. I don't really care about this honour - I never sought glory for myself, only for the Empire -but I am happy for my men, who deserve to be publicly praised, admired and cheered.

Instead I am much happier about something else that was returned to me along with my social status: my properties and my estate in Hispania. It is mine again, Lydah! The place where I was born...The Augusta Lucilla - whom I suspect had a hand in this - informed me the house had been rebuilt and the land is thriving again.

Oh, Lydah, I can't wait to be there again. I hope it will not sadden you to leave Zucchabar, but trust me, Hispania is so much better than Africa. The climate is milder and the water always plentiful.

My lands are set on the hills above Trujillo, in a territory enclosed between two rivers. The vegetation is green and luxuriant and varied: wheat, barley, figs, apples, pears, olives, vines- everything you can imagine is there! Well- almost: there are no palms there. But the soil is black like a starless night and so fecund...perhaps we will be able to grow palms too, if you should miss them. Also there are wild ponies roaming the hills nearby and I am sure Titus will love to play with them!

Ah, let's return to the present. As I wrote above, I don't know when I will be able to return to you. For the moment I must remain here to keep peace between the senators and guarantee order and control as they decide how best organize the Empire.

I promise you to leave as soon as I can, but unfortunately I cannot predict when it will be. However, I will write to you often and keep you informed about how things are progressing.

Now I must go. I must dine with the Augusta Lucilla and Senator Gracchus. I am living at the Palace now and the bedroom given to me is larger than our home...and yet I would give much of my fortune to be there with you, lying on our narrow bed...

Soon my love, soon.

Vale,

Maximus

Lydah rolled up the scroll and looked at Proximo, who was still standing in front of her, apparently without having moved a muscle while she read. He raised a calloused finger to gently brush her damp cheeks, and thus she became aware she had been crying.

"I hope these are tears of joy," he chided her with a smile.

"Yes, they are." Lydah's lower lips trembled as she spoke. "Maximus did it. And will return as soon as he can."

"This is wonderful, Lydah," Proximo said, then tilted his head to look at her better. She was shaking with suppressed emotion, and his heart softened. "Come here, young lady," he murmured, opening his arms wide, "You need a good hug."

Lydah let out a sob and ran to press her body against his, releasing months of tension and worry in the fabric of his tunic, as he embraced and cradled her like a father with his daughter.

Epilogue - Nine months later

It was already dark when Maximus knocked at the door of Proximo's house, dirty and sweaty after a long ride along the road from the coast to Zucchabar. At his side, his horse was standing, equally tired and dusty. Maximus patted its neck in thanks with one hand, while knocking again with the other. He knew it was very late and that perhaps he was going to wake up the household, but simply he could not wait till the next morning. He HAD to see Lydah that evening. After three months without receiving letters because of the winter season, Maximus was frantic to rest his eyes again on her beloved face, hoping to find her well and with a healthy child in her arms. He did not care if it was a male or a female, he just prayed for both mother and baby to be all right, for all the rest was dust and air.

As Maximus was about to knock a third time, the bolt began to slide away and Proximo's voice, loud enough to be heard from beyond the thick wood, said irritated, "Whomever you are, I hope you have a damn good reason to disturb me at this hour." The door opened a little and the dangerous-looking lanista peered outside, his rage deflating as soon as he gave a good look at the visitor. "General!" He exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"Is it safe to come inside?" joked Maximus.

"Of course! Come in!" Proximo opened the door wide and he stepped into the atrium looking around curiously for he had never been in that part of the house, he had always accessed to it from the inner yard.

Proximo bolted the door then turned to face his guest, finally allowing him to see he was carrying a bundle in his arms. A small, squirming bundle.

Maximus stared at it, mesmerized. 

The older man smiled at the other's expression then approached him, adjusting his grip on the blanket-wrapped infant and allowing the weary soldier to peer at the tiny face that was staring at him with equal curiosity.

"My - my baby?" Maximus stammered, moving closer.

"Yes." Proximo's smile widened and he reached out with his arms, handing the child to the younger man. "Her name is Lavinia, after Lydah's mother."

Maximus took his daughter from Proximo and cradled her with his arms, looking down to admire her perfect features. Her eyes were green, the hair chestnut and her chin was pointed. She was her mother's portrait. "Lavinia," he murmured, his voice choking, before raising her to the ceiling and claiming her as his daughter. He then moved a hand to caress her cheek and feel how soft it was but, giving a good look to how dirty his fingers were, he opted to lightly kiss his little girl, hoping she would not be disturbed by his beard. She was not- Lavinia smiled toothlessly and even moved a tiny arm, as if she was trying to touch him.

Her father was still staring enchanted at her when someone else stepped into the room. "Has she stopped crying?" asked a well-known voice, and Maximus whirled around, blood pounding in his ears.

"Lydah..." he whispered.

"Maximus ...Is that you, my love? I cannot see you well..." her voice was tremulous and hesitant.

"Yes," he replied softly, leaving the shadowed corner where he had been standing to walk closer to her. His gaze swept over her long-dreamed-of figure, caressing each detail of her beloved face and body, until it stopped over the infant she was holding against her breast.

Maximus' eyes widened in shock and his breath caught in his throat, as he looked from Lydah and the child in her arms to little Lavinia, now sleeping peacefully cradled against his chest.

Proximo, who had been observing in silence all the time, enjoying the scene, decided it was a good occasion to have some fun at the Spaniard's expense.

"So General," he said walking near the couple, "You don't do anything by half-measures, uh? Conquering countries, freeing empires from tyrants, siring twins..."

"Twins?" Echoed Maximus, as soon as his stupor waned away a little.

"Yes. I hope you are not going to tell me you are one of those men that believe twins are a bad omen." The lanista added, his eyes narrowed.

"What? No, I believe children are always a blessing - a double one in this case." Finally regaining his control, Maximus smiled broadly at Lydah, and approached her. "Thank you my love, this is the best surprise I ever received."

The pair exchanged a loving, proud gaze as they watched their children, then he murmured "May I hold--?"

"Maximus, like you." Lydah grinned as his eyes widened again in surprise, for he had thought the infants to be both girls. Then she took Lavinia in her arm and handed her son to his father.

Maximus smiled then raised the boy to the ceiling, claiming him as his own as he had done with his sister. Then he observed him, amazed that the little boy seemed to have taken everything after him. It was like the gods had wished to give them two tiny copies of themselves.

With his heart full of gratitude, Maximus turned his attention to Lydah.

"I love you," he whispered, filling those three words with all the longing and loneliness accumulated in almost a year of separation and that the long letters they had exchanged had done little to assuage. 

"As I love you," she murmured back, her green eyes shining and burning with her inner fire- like during that never-forgotten night in their cottage when her passion had escalated so high he had almost been afraid to be consumed by it... Maximus felt desire course along his spine and tried to shake it away. His gaze fell over her full lips and he felt the need to kiss her, to taste again her sweetness- and Lydah wanted him to do exactly that. Angling their bodies so to not crush their children, they drifted together, and their mouths met in a kiss that was tender and passionate, an ardent dance of tongues, a prelude to what would soon happen...

The sound of someone clearing his throat with intent recalled Maximus to reality- he had completely forgotten Proximo! Embarrassed, he turned to face the lanista, who gruffly said, "I will leave you alone now." A pause and his expression softened. "Welcome back, Maximus."

"Thank you." Maximus smiled, somehow surprised by the feelings of ...affection he sensed for the older man. 

Proximo waved them good night then started to walk away. But before he reached the door, he suddenly stopped and turned around. "A last thing, you two: try to not make too much noise, I want to sleep!"

Maximus and Lydah stared at him, blushing to roots of their hair, and Proximo left the room, satisfied to have caught the Spaniard off-guard another time.

Once alone, Maximus turned to look at Lydah. "What now?"

"Well, I suggest we first put our children in bed. Then I will help you to bathe while you tell me everything that happened in Rome during these months. After that, we could eat something together because I suppose you are hungry, and you will need strength for the dessert..." Lydah's voice died in a sultry whisper, as her face widened in a cheeky grin.

"The dessert?" Maximus enquired, his own voice low and throaty, as he stepped even closer to her.

"Yes- our dessert in bed. Taking care to not make too much noise, of course!"

Maximus burst in a booming laugh, quickly decreasing to a giggle to avoid waking his son and daughter.

He was still giggling when he followed Lydah out of the room, not knowing that, from behind a column, Proximo was watching them like a proud father, his lined face widened in a smile.

Ah, life could be so good, even if such flea-infested place like Zucchabar...