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Maximus apparently had the same feeling I did about leaving sooner than planned, for it was still dark when he roused me, to get our things collected and packed on mules. He helped me ready the Spanish horses, and for a while we said nothing, only worked at getting them and the ones we would ride fed and saddled. I knew not when Maximus had finally taken his bed; he had not come to see me after Livius departed. I had left Lucilla and gone to my quarters, not even bothering to undress. He looked like he had not slept well.He finally spoke, as he slung his saddle on the back of his black gelding, “Timothy tells me you know Livius.”
“Aye.”
“You know he came here to see about buying you?” I only nodded affirmation, pretending to check halters for any rents or cracking. He sighed, and rubbed his beard, a gesture I would come to learn meant a hint of frustration, or deep thought.
“Listen. I know you have a great deal of mistrust for me, and frankly, I’m not sure once we are away from Rome, that I can trust you not to take the first opportunity to run away. But sooner or later, you are going to have to depend on me to protect you, and I can’t do that, if I don’t know what to shield you from.”
“I don’t need for you look after me.” It was the first time I had the audacity to speak to him in such a manner. He hardly seemed affronted, but rather, that he had expected it, perhaps been hoping for it.
“Truly? I’ll have to remember that, in case fear or confrontation cause you to fall asleep.”
I drew myself up to full height, and glared at him. It was bad enough to be so debilitated, and I knew Timothy must have told him about the momentary bout with illness from the idea of Livius so near, but I would not be thought less of a warrior- by anyone- for it. “Only after I face my opponents, do I sleep.” I bit off each word, and felt the red heat of anger flush through my body. He cinched the saddle on his mount, and smiled widely at me. I felt foolish, for he had been teasing.
“No offense. I know it bothers you, I’m sorry.” He waited a beat. “I owe Gracchus a good deal of money for you. I didn’t pay for you, to turn around and sell you to a man like Livius. I know a few things about him, and I don’t like what I know. I told you I have need of you, wherever I choose to be stationed. That hasn't changed. I can pay someone else to do it, but I would rather give you the opportunity to earn your freedom. I ask very little of you, other than to care for a few tasks that I don’t have time for, things that I think you will enjoy, or benefit from. The least you can do, is be forthcoming with information I feel I should have, when I ask you for it.” He handed me the saddle for my mare, the brown one that had greeted me the first time I had entered the stable. He held his tongue, and waited for me to gather my thoughts, while I got her ready.
It was a hard thing to have those earnest searching eyes bore through my soul, trying to bend me to his will. I found it difficult to meet them. What was it about the man that left me uncertain of myself, unable to hide behind my protective wall of silence and blankness? I belonged to him, in body only. But he wanted more than that, and it was unsettling. The others, even the kind man that had bought me first, never truly wanted to know what I thought, so long as I did what I was told. Maximus asked me questions, and seemed to care that I had feelings.
More than any other, even Aelius Pontius, the gladiator master, he was my enemy. Maximus was the side of Rome that had made a slave of me, and killed what I loved. And he was the one that was offering me a chance to regain the only other thing that mattered to me- an end to my slavery. All I had to do was be useful, in whatever capacity he required of me.
"You saw the scar on his face?" He nodded. "I gave that to him." No hint of emotion crossed his face, as I wove the tale of how I came to be hunted by Marius Titus Livius.
I stood in the scorching desert heat of Zucchabar Province, watching as though a dream the sale of slaves and animals, to whatever life the gods had in store for them. I had been cleaned, then powdered with lime dust to remove lice and vermin I had accumulated on the way to this dirty, rotting place. All day I had been pinched, patted down, and ogled by prospective buyers, who treated me like stock. In the distance, I could see an arena, where I knew that warriors fought and killed each other, and the mob chanting the name of a favored hero. I knew it for what it was, there was one like it in Londinium, and several others on the eastern side of Britannia, placed there for the entertainment of the Roman settlers.
The first day came and went, without anyone wanting to buy me. The fat, dark man that had acquired me off the slave ship chained and led me to a cell, and screeched obscenities- or what I assumed were such- at the men hired to handle his property. My pale skin was burned and painful to the touch. I did not flinch, but he was none too pleased that his precious merchandise was sun-damaged. He examined me, and rubbed some type of ointment on the burns. I was given a pallet to sleep on, and left to myself. I have to confess: that night I thought about wrapping the chains around my throat to cut off my air supply, so humiliated by captivity was I.
I used to wonder why I was not killed, while still in Britannia, but the gods apparently chose a different path for me. The next day, I was brought in front of three men. Two were gladiator owners. One was a man named Proximo, who immediately moved on, explaining that he had no interest in women for his fights. "No profit in it," he had growled curtly. In the end, I was sold to a Greek man, who looked me over carefully, and was quite impressed with my size and build. He paid the two thousand gold pieces asked for me, like it was nothing. He outbid another man, a Gaul named Marius Titus Livius, who was interested in all types of fighters for his matches. At the time, Livius was quite jovial about the fact that he lost me, shaking hands and congratulating my new master. There was no bad blood, then.
My owner would tell me later that he had cheated the little toad, as he called the Bedouin slave trader. He had been looking for someone to mind his four boys. I was treated well, and loved the boys for the three years I was there. My master was a man with enemies, however, as powerful men often are, no matter how beneficient they may be. On his way to his daily observance of worshipping Apollo, he was murdered, and I was confiscated along with all his other property. I do not know what happened to his sons.
Once again, I found myself up for auction on the slave block, and indentured at the Temple Porne by a worshipper of Aphrodite. A wealthy, pious man, as far as the goddess' requirements went, he chose the most beautiful of his slaves to serve her as harlots. Every day, we were led there, to sit on the temple steps and wait for men, or into chambers to perform our task. Most of the men who I serviced were good to me, as was the master. He kept us well fed and dressed, and allowed no bad treatment of us. It was said that his girls were the best of all, and I was in high demand- most of the Celt girls were, for our white complexions, and light colored hair. It was there that I again would meet Livius.
Apollo was making his way in his fiery chariot to the underworld, when I saw my last patron, and bathed myself of the effects of sex. Unlike the prostitutes that worked out of the brothels and on the streets, we of the temple, like the courtesans, were not used as often, and by a higher class of man.
I was waiting for my master to come and get me for the evening meal, when a man entered the room that I was using. He was young, just out of his teen years, and eager to prove his manhood to the world. His mistake was that he felt the necessity to bully those around him, especially those in subservient positions, whether they belonged to him, or not. He ignored my polite request to come back and see me the next day, choosing instead to force himself upon me. He was large, and it was a fight. I was unarmed, for I served a goddess in a sacred place, but I did manage to wrest his dagger from him, slicing his neck open with his own weapon. His blood spilled over me, hot and deep red; there would be no way to hide what I had done. And no one to see that it had been done in self-defense.
There was nowhere to run, that I would not be noticed, either by the other girls, or by the priests, so I calmly waited for my fate. My keeper was there, moments after, and while he believed my side of the affair, there was no appeasing Livius, regardless of the law, that stated that another man's property could not be damaged without retribution. He had come to collect his boy, and upon discovering that he was dead, moved to exact the death price from my life. When he came crashing at me, I cut his face, from the hairline, through his eye, and on down through his chin, creating the scar that distinguished him, now. While he howled in pain and misery, and no doubt heartache, I was ushered out of Corinth, and on to Athens, where I ended up the property of the gladiator runner, Aelius Pontius, who would in turn, sell me to Maximus. The personal vendetta Livius held against me, however, followed me, no matter where I went, and would never be lifted, until one of us was dead. A boy might err, but the father still loves. I could understand that. I hated the Roman army for similar reasons.
Maximus shook his head, as I finished. "Quite an enemy you have made for yourself," he mused, as we began to lead the horses out of the stables. I was curious as to what he knew, since he had heard things about my enemy. I started to ask him, but a red-eyed, sniffling Lucius interrupted us. He had come running from the house at the first hint of daylight to say goodbye, before we could leave the villa, and Rome, without wishing him farewell. We still had things to do before we left, but I knew he was afraid he would sleep late, and miss us. Maximus ruffled his hair, and hugged him hard, then I held the boy to me, trying my best not to cry. Lucius was my friend, but he was also a son to me, like the four boys I had kept close watch over, in my first position. It seemed I was always losing my children.
I turned his tear-streaked face up to mine, and smiled. "Perhaps someday, if I am free, I will come serve in your guard," I offered. He grinned, and nodded. "Remember the things we talked about. Remember them, when you are emperor," I reminded him, then whispered something in his ear. He gawked at me momentarily, then solemnly bowed. Maximus' curiosity was piqued, but I knew Lucius would never tell him our secret. A confidence, for a confidence. The boy stood by, as we made ready to go, mounting our horses, and checking over the Spanish herd.
Gracchus and Lucilla came, as we were starting to move, along with Galen. The physician handed me a small bundle of carefully chosen herbs, and gave me a brief description of them, and their uses. I thanked him for the gift, and for giving me my life back. He patted me, telling me it was nothing. I had the pouch for years, before I ever used it, but every time I cared for a sick or dying body, I thought of Galen, and his healing hands and heart. His voice would always sound in my conscious, with bits of wisdom and knowledge that he imparted to me.
Lucilla and Maximus spoke, while Gracchus and I exchanged last words. Lucilla and I had said all that was necessary between us, the night before, there was no more need to talk. Gracchus was sorry there were no more limes, but he did hold my hands in his, and assured me I would always have a home with he and his. They were my family, I realized, as we rode out from the gates, driving the horses before us. I was a captive, but had rarely been made to feel like one.
I remember looking back over my shoulder, as the gates swung shut behind us, feeling very lonely, because somehow I knew, I would never see the villa again. If Maximus felt that way, he did not show it, and I did not let on to him, either. I was alone with him, now, and could only wait to see how the will of the gods unfolded for us.
The day's ride to Ostia went without event. There was always the specter of Livius hanging about, and we kept our eyes sharp, but we left early enough, that we avoided problems with him. Maximus had told him that I had not survived the mauling I had received from the bears, dying a couple days after, from the severity of my wounds. Livius had responded by telling Maximus and Gracchus that he wanted to visit my grave, in hopes of paying his last respects to me. Maximus lied that I had been cremated, but he had no illusions that Livius believed him. His impression, supplemented by word about of my adversary was that Livius was a vicious human being. He was a rich man, with political connections to the Senate, which I supposed was how he found out Maximus' whereabouts. He lived off the pain of others, searching the known world over for the strongest warriors for his fights. And the types of battles he pitched required more and more gladiators, for his mind never seemed to stop thinking of new and different ways of killing them off. Most of these things I was aware of, but it seemed that Maximus had a friend who had once been matched up against one of Livius' champions, and had won, though it left a scar on his face, ever after, similar to the one my enemy carried, now.
"You were fortunate," Maximus was saying, as we came within sight of Ostia, the light of the dying sun casting a soft glow that silhouetted the buildings and temples. "You'd have been dead years ago."
"I sometimes wonder," I confessed.
"The gods knew. Although, you would have been cared for well by Proximo, as you were by your first owner."
"You know him?" I remembered my guard-friend's tale of the general having been a gladiator. I was intensely curious, now. It would explain his acquaintances with those who were generally not invited to the meals of nobles, but entertained them, nonetheless.
"Knew him, yes." He was looking off toward the distant horizon, but not really seeing it. I thought I saw the hint of a fond smile on his face, but could not be certain. The setting sun plays tricks with the eyes.
"When you were in the arena?" I ventured, and he glanced at me, obviously taken aback that I knew that, when none of Gracchus’ household had told me. I waited, unyielding, and he grinned.
"How did you know?"
"You're not the only one who hears things." At the raising of his chin, and the cock of an eyebrow, I acquiesced. "They still remember you in the cells. The guard told me, the day you came to see me." He was satisfied with my answer, and nodded.
"You remember me." It was months, over half a year, since that day. I would have remembered him decades later, had I only seen him once. It was not necessary to tell him that, though. I had a feeling he probably suspected.
"Aye." He only smiled, and we were silent over the short distance left to the encamped Felix legions, where they waited patiently for the return of their general.
