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The closer we drew to the hills above the tiny village of Trujillo, the more reserved the general became. He was tight-lipped, and when he did speak, it was in short, terse statements, that caused all of us to give him a wide berth. Only his nephew seemed to have the courage to address him, entreating him to take a different path to Emerita. Maximus turned on him, and in no uncertain terms, told him that we were headed to Trujillo, and that was the end of it. Justinius worriedly watched his uncle’s back, as Maximus strode over to his horse, and climbed on. We had to hurry, to catch up.No one had to tell me that the burned remains of what had probably been a charming pink-stone farmhouse were what Maximus had proclaimed home. There was a gate of hardwood that allowed entry to the property, and just to the right, a giant poplar, that rose high and proud into the Spanish sky. At one time, we would have arrived to plant wheat, to be ready for an autumn harvest, as well as tending the now-withered grape vines that I could see from our vantage point, on the south slopes of the farm. But this was the present, and there was nothing left to rejuvenate. As we followed the tree lined path where my master had already gone before us; I could see a wild pony herd grazing on the sparse winter grass. They raised their heads at the sight and smell of other horses, calling out in their equine tongue a greeting to our mounts, then calmly went back to eating.
Two markers sprung up from the earth under the gnarled branches of a cypress, and Maximus knelt before them, lost to the world. He seemed not to care about our presence, so we left him in his lonely reunion with his dead wife and son, and were especially reverent, when we rode by him. My heart went out to him, when I saw the great general’s tears flowing unchecked.
Justinius was pulling his things from his horse’s back, as I dismounted beside him. "How long?” I motioned toward the grieving man.
“Seven years, now. Like yesterday, to him, though.”
“Has he not been back, since?”
Justinius sighed, and frowned. “No. The last time he was in Hispania, he avoided coming this route, altogether. That was a couple years ago. I don’t know why he felt the need to do it, this time. Perhaps he thought it was time to let go of them. I don’t know.” I nodded, then went off to explore, and get an idea of who my master had been, before his life had been altered by loss and great pain.
There was an oppressive gloom that permeated the blackened walls of the villa, as thought the spirits of the deceased still made their abode in the place. My heart wrenched, as I walked under the doorframe, and spied the two sets of nail holes, one more wide set than the other. I glanced back at Maximus, still despondent beside the graves of his loved ones, and sent up a prayer to my gods for his peace of mind.
I looked around at what had been the kitchen garden, noting the shriveled evidence of herbs that had been nurtured there, for seasoning food, and for curing illness. I barely recognized most, but I could pick out valerian, anise, and basil among the charred plants. Maximus’ wife had had a bit of knowledge of how to keep her family in good health. From there, I made my way past the sitting room, to a gaping maw that must have been the bedrooms, the scorched legs of a bed on one side was all that had escaped the flames.
Justinius’ voice from behind startled me. “He built it himself. He adored her.” He indicated the bed legs. I smiled, briefly. He went on. “He hasn’t been the same, since.”
“What was he like, before?”
“He was a farmer. That’s all he really ever wanted to do. Simple pleasures. Home and family. Laughed more. Loved life.”
“And Rome.” I said it off-handedly, and Justinius shook his head.
“No. He was born to be a great man. But it was not what he wanted. He serves in the army, because it is his duty. He is the best at it. He conquered the barbarians, because he was required to. That is all. But Rome and her interests were always second-place, as far as he was concerned. This,” he waved his hand to take in the burned-out building, “was always first with him. They were first.” We both turned to the scene out beyond. Maximus was prone now, Justinius guessed he might have cried himself to sleep.
“That’s how the slavers found him,” he related. “Half-dead, by the graves. They’d have found me all-dead.”
“Perhaps. The gods must have needed him.”
“Oh, they did. Ask him about it sometime. He’ll probably tell you. He seems to feel very comfortable when you’re around.” He grinned, then mentioned that dinner was needed, desperately. We would reach his father’s home before nightfall, the next day, so we had gone looking for hares that were brave enough to venture out. He offered to give me a break from cooking duty, while I wandered. I gladly took him up on it.
I stayed a few more minutes, lost in my thoughts, then started to go and look after Maximus. As my foot marred the dirt, I uncovered the dull gleam of something pearl-like. On closer inspection, I realized it was a shell comb that had belonged to Maximus’ wife. It was finely etched with intricate designs. I turned it over in my hand, letting the dying sun catch its colors, muted pinks and violets, and cream.
“Give that to me.” I had not heard Maximus’ foot steps. I whirled and simply stared at him. His eyes were flat, and haunted. They were red-rimmed and swollen from weeping, but they hardened a bit, when he reached out and snatched the comb from my hand, scratching my palm with one of the sharp teeth. I did not cry out, but I was shocked and confused. This man had my master’s body, but this man was soulless.
“Go help my nephew with supper,” the doppelganger snarled, and marched with me out of the building. Through the meal, he ate nothing. No one bothered him. He spent the night between the graves. I sent Lupa to guard him, and remind him that the living needed him, still.
The next morning, we woke under a blanket of light snow, and hurriedly packed. I had tended Maximus’ fine black gelding the day before, and had him saddled and ready, when the general joined us. He barely acknowledged me, when I handed him his reins, and the men passed nervous glances back and forth, for there were no morning wishes forthcoming from their friend and leader. I could not explain the sickness in the pit of my stomach.
During the noon rest, he finally called me to him. “You are not to ride away from us, anymore.”
“There is no need, Sir. We are almost to Emerita.”
He turned a cool eye to me. “Ever. Not today, not when we leave for Germania. You are to stay with me, or with Justinius, at all times. Understood?” I acquiesced. I had done nothing to make him distrust me, and I could not see what he was thinking. I had no right to ask him, either. I doubted if he would tell me, anyway. He repeated the directive to Justinius, who only agreed, meekly. When the initial disappointment wore off, I found myself angry.
Justinius noticed, right away. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” I had learned that I could freely speak my mind, with the centurion.
“He’s behaving like a typical Roman. Makes a friend of his slave, then when he is hurt, makes me suffer for it, and tightens the leash. I’m fine. I just won’t forget my place again.”
Justinius had also discovered that he had equal voice, with me. “That’s not fair. He’s in pain. It won’t be forever. He’s just afraid he will lose us, too. He’ll be a bear, for a while, but he’ll get over it, soon enough.” I wished I could share Justinius’ hopeful attitude, but it eluded me. I could not explain what, but something was changed, between Maximus and me. We were back to the start, for he only talked to me after that, when he had a task for me to care for, and I only responded when I was spoken to. My heart was closed to him, again, for a while after. Or at least, tried to be.
The home of Antonius Decimus Meridas was everything his brother and son had claimed it to be. His lands stretched as far as the eye could see, over the rolling hills and on into the horizon. The actual city of Emerita Augusta lay some ten miles south. I would learn later that while Maximus’ farm had originally been just as large as his sibling’s had, Antonius had bought out some of his neighbors’ properties, to grow his to the proportions that it reached, at that time. Justinius twisted in his saddle to gauge my reaction, as we slowed to a walk, the last league of our trip. The place was a small piece of paradise, without doubt. It was dry, because of winter, but I could already see in my mind’s eye how it would look, clothed in spring and summer vegetation. As if they had already budded out, I could smell the sweet fragrance of cherry blossoms, and taste sweet-sharp apples would be ripe the next autumn. Sheets of white-golden wheat would cover the fields as far as the eye could see, and would provide bread and ale for the large number of people required to work the farm. The house was huge, but inviting, and fronted by a small rose garden, that I hoped I would get to see bloom, before we rejoined the legions in Germania.
If the two sides of a coin were called austerity and magnanimity, then Maximus’ brother was the latter, to his younger sibling’s former. Antonius swept Maximus into an embrace that nearly crushed the breath out of the general. It was returned, however briefly, and with far less of the emotional outpouring the older man displayed, for the joy of having his kinsmen home, brother and son. Justinius was next, for while he was obviously much loved and held in esteem by his sire, he was not the prodigal that Maximus was. All the men were addressed by name, and given a warm welcome by our host.
Servants were sent to find them appropriate lodging for the night, which meant two set up in the numerous bedrooms on the upper level of the house, in warm beds. Most would go on into Emerita the next day, to their own homes. Tonight, there would be a feast to celebrate their arrival. As for me, I was appraised with soft green eyes that held no contempt, but interest, as Antonius casually glanced from me to his brother, then back again to me. He smiled, and made me welcome.
From behind Antonius appeared a petite, pretty woman with dark auburn curls to her waist. It was impossible to guess at her age, though I supposed she was at least Maximus’, in her mid- or late thirties. Her smile and laughter made her young, but she had ancient wisdom. I liked her immediately. She fussed over her brother-in-law, and coddled her boy. Justinius rolled his eyes, in mock agony over his mother’s ministrations. I did not smile, but thought it wonderful. Then she spied me, behind Maximus, holding his and Justinius’ horses, and raised an eyebrow at Maximus.
“You didn’t tell us you’d found a bride!”
She seemed so overjoyed to think that Maximus might have fallen in love again, that I was almost disappointed for her, when the general corrected her, rather stiffly, "I didn't. Boadicea serves me as an adjutant, and as interpreter for the army." He spotted the crestfallen look in the liquid brown eyes that studied him at the same time, pointedly. He added softly, "But it's good to know you want to see me happy, Julia." He gave her an extra, affectionate squeeze, then directed me to bring his brother's gift. As I turned, I did not miss the questioning glance from Julia to Justinius, about Maximus' behavior. It was obviously out of the ordinary, even for him. Justinius only shook his head, mouthing 'later', as he followed me to where the Spanish horses were being held.
It was dark, so Antonius was not be able to really see them, but he was nonetheless ecstatic with the animals Maximus had ridden over most of Gaul and Italia collecting for him. The older man clapped Maximus on the shoulder, and waved off apologies over small imperfections in this one, or that one, that would make little difference, to the untrained eye.
“Little Brother, I will look them over carefully tomorrow. But I have no doubt they are the finest to be found anywhere. You have always had the best eye for horseflesh. The greater gift is that you’re here.” Maximus made no reply, but he seemed glad his present was well received. We watched as the horses huddled together at a corner of the paddock. They would get used to their surroundings soon enough, and spread out, to graze. Our mounts had been taken away for grooming and feeding. They would have a good rest, before we needed them for much else.
Justinius broke the silence that fell over us, with a remark that he was tired of watching horses eat, and was going where there would be food for him. Antonius agreed, adding that he was short of freezing to death, and if spring did not arrive soon, he was going to move to Africa.
“Getting old, Father?” Justinius ribbed, falling into his sire’s easy gait.
“Keep a civil tongue in your head, Boy, or I will have your mother send you to bed without any supper.” Antonius was laughing, and threw an arm over his son’s shoulders. Sadness stole over Maximus’ countenance, as he looked on; he missed not having his own offspring to share moments like that with.
Inside the great, carved doors of the villa, I balked. They were going to the hall where Antonius and Julia entertained guests, to celebrate the reunion of family and friends. But I was not kin. I was, as my master had bluntly told Julia, still only a slave. For a moment, I stood there, uncertain where to go, or what to do, finally deciding that I might be useful in the kitchen. There were many people to feed, this night, and I wanted to earn my keep. And I needed to take my mind off the gnawing emptiness that threatened to rip my still-delicate heart in two.
The kitchen was not hard to find- all I had to do was follow the sound of platters and trays being carried to and from the dining room. In there, Julia was in control, tasting the meat roasting over the pit, checking the softness of the bread going to her company, sending a server out with yet another pitcher of ale or wine. She never raised her voice, but everyone heard her. She had guests, and they were to be treated like royalty, it was clear. When she saw me, she smiled, with a glint of humor.
“Did you get lost?”
“No, my lady. I came to work.”
She was at first confounded, then a bit angry. “Did Maximus make you come in here?” She looked as though she would go in and give the general a good tongue-lashing. I assured her he had not, that I was there of my own accord.
She snorted, indignantly. “Not tonight. You’re tired, you’ve been riding for days, and Maximus is being a boor. You will go out there, and eat with us. Tomorrow, the next day, for as long as you are here, you can work to your heart’s content. And tell the general if he doesn’t like it, he can come speak with me. I am Master, in this house.” She made sure things were settled in the kitchen, and took my arm, clucking about the state of my clothing, and my hair.
The banquet hall was a cacophony of male voices shouting to be heard above one another, as they reveled in the end of the journey. Most of them hailed me, as I made my way in. Julia seated herself near her son, and I was placed on the other side of a lovely young girl I understood to be Olivia, Justinius’ sister. She was the image of her mother.
Soon, she would be a bride. I had heard Justinius tell Maximus he hoped the young soldier that Antonius had picked out to wed his only daughter would be worthy of her. Maximus had pointed out that Antonius, while friendly with most, also had a keen eye for the bad apples in the orchard of humankind. He was also a doting father, and would never jeopardize his child’s happiness with poor judgement in mates for her. She gaped openly at me, and I assumed it was because of my size, for she was no taller than Julia. I fixed a gentle gaze on her, and was rewarded with a shy smile. Maximus seemed not to notice I was there, only spoke in hushed tones with Antonius, and played with his food. Well enough, I thought, and finished my supper quickly, before excusing myself, and followed a serving woman to the room that would be mine for the next four months.
