Twenty Second Entry - Revelations and Dreams - A.D. 180

There it was. What I had always wanted to know. What I had given so much thinking to while longing for Maximus... The question that proved how little did I really know about the only man I'd ever love, a question both embarrassing and so personal. And I'd blurted it even before my sleepy mind had had the time to properly grasp it.

The warm, big hand caressing my hair came to a stop and I felt Maximus' body tense as it hadn't since stepping on the Poseidon early that afternoon. It didn't become rigid as it had done in the past while rejecting my advances or shutting me off his grief but it was no more relaxed either.
Then Maximus sighed.
A long, shuddering, deep sigh.
So long and so shuddering and so deep that it left no possible doubt about the intimate, controlled pain behind it.
Now I was drowsy no more but fully alert and awake. Maximus eased his tight hold of my person and allowed me to move away from him as he rested his back flat on the cushions. I raised on an elbow just in time to see him close his eyelids then frown as if he'd been struggling to find the right answer to some specially difficult question...
Suddenly it dawned in my mind that perhaps Maximus hadn't thought about himself for so long that he found it difficult to even remember his own age.
Then he spoke.
"On April 7th," he said softly, "I became thirty three."
His voice rumbled, deep and low but there was neither bitterness nor sadness in his tone, just a hint of melancholy.

April 7th.

Spring.
Warring season.
From fourteen on, he more probably than not had spent most of his birthdays stationed in his army camp or even at the battle front, the chances for a soldier to spend a spring natalis (*) at home more than scarce, be him a humble auxiliary or a general.
And Maximus had spent most of his adult life stationed in Germania, where warring against the tribes had never really ceased during the twenty years Marcus Aurelius had been at the throne.

"On April 7th, I became thirty three."

April 7th.
Just few months ago...
Then I felt as if I'd been hit by a lightning bolt.
On April 7th of that year -- the first of the reign of Imperator Caesar Lucius Aelius Commodus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus -- Maximus had been in Zucchabar. On April 7th of that year, the man who should have been the rightful emperor or Rome had already been sold at the slave market of a faraway, gods forgotten, dusty African province... Or perhaps he had been on his way to Rome and the great arena of the Colosseum. But it really made no difference if he'd been secluded in a dark, small gladiatorial school in Africa or on his way to the Urbs for he had already been a slave and a gladiator, a man who survived day after day killing for the amusement of the mob as he slowly made his way towards Commodus and his vengeance... and his own death. A man who'd been robbed of his rank, his family, his freedom. Even robbed of his name.
A man who was known simply as "The Spaniard".

"On April 7th, I became thirty three."

Thirty three.
So young. So full of life. So many years ahead to even see his deepest wounds heal. To raise crops or breed horses or do whatever he wanted to do... To dare. To hope. To love and be loved again. To have children and see them grow and have their own...

At the sudden realization, I wanted to cry in outrage. To cry at the unfairness of life. At the unfairness of fate. At the unfairness of worshipping deities who remained silent and indifferent at the suffering of the same men and women who worshipped them... But instead, I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat, laid myself flat on my back beside Maximus and closed my eyes.
Then, I spoke. And when I did it, there was neither sadness nor bitterness in my voice. Just melancholy. But, isn't melancholy what replaces both sadness and bitterness when we are so tired of hurting that we have to choose between moving ahead or putting an end to our lives and what hurts us so badly?

"I don't know when I was born," I said as softly as if I'd been talking to myself. "Nobody keeps record of the slaves' birth date, only of their number and gender... same as the cattle. I only know that I was born in Rome... Or at least I don't remember any other place but Rome... I have no memories of my mother... I remember neither a kiss nor a caress..."
Maximus stirred by my side and even without opening my eyes I knew he had turned towards me and raised on his elbow to closely look at me.
"I don't know how old I really am... I have a fairly good idea of my age for I started counting the years as my body... changed... I was about eighteen when I met you in Moesia... so now I'm about twenty four..."
I stopped and frowned in concentration, struggling to find the right words for I had never, ever talked about what I was on the brink of telling him.
"Considering what my early life was to be, not knowing when my birthday was shouldn't be so bad... just a minor nuisance. But... but... it has always been a source of... grief... A source of... anger..."
Maximus remained silent and I went on talking and going on was not easy.
"It may sound stupid but I always resented it more than anything... I was robbed of everything even before I was born but somehow... somehow not having a birthday was specially... hurting..."
No, I had never admitted this to anyone. How could I have done it even to those who knew about my past? How could I have done it without admitting my inability to overcome such seemingly minor grief, no matter how rich and powerful I'd have come to be? No, not even the man who had tutored me and taught me how to keep myself mostly away from bitterness would have understood. Not even the man who had married me despite that soiled past and taught me what power and revenge is about. No, not even them. And not even the man I'd met in Moesia six years before. Only the man quietly lying by my side could. Only this new Maximus could understand the helplessness and grief and anger of being stripped to the bones of your own identity... as I understood his.

Strong, callused fingers lightly touched my forehead as Maximus gently pushed my hair away and I inwardly thanked him for the disguised caress he knew I so badly needed yet hesitated to openly offer for fear of embarrassing me. And both for the disguised caress and the caring that prevented him from openly offering it I loved him even more that I already did... if that was humanly possible.
"I'm regarded as Roman but I know I'm a foreigner... and I'll always be. Or at least, I feel foreigner and I know that will never change... I belong nowhere..."
"Julia..."
I opened my eyes to find Maximus looking at me. There was a hint of concern in his voice and the same concern reflected in his greenish blue eyes making them burn. And in the sound of my name as he softly spoke it and the look in his eyes I knew that he'd have done whatever to protect me from the pain of being forever an outsider... and if he'd failed, he'd gladly share the burden of that pain in the same way I'd have done whatever to protect him from his own pain or share its burden. It was my turn to raise my fingers and gently trace his beloved face and before going on talking, I smiled a little, lopsided smile that I hoped was somehow reassuring. "I was robbed of my people and my family and my past but strange as it may sound, being robbed of my birthday somehow feels more... hurting..."
Swallowing hard, I raised my eyes towards the starry night sky above us. It looked like an immense, dark blue silk canopy studded with tiny diamonds. I had asked to remain for that night under the stars yet I had mixed feelings about them for they are somehow like the gods, their glittering beauty combined with such a cold distance that made them so utterly unattainable that it hurt out of unfairness.
"I don't have a past but one I prefer to forget..." I went on saying as my eyes remained fixed on the distant, cold, beautiful stars. "I don't have my yearly personal festival to celebrate the joy of being alive and make offerings to the gods... I can't have my stars read... It's absurd, you know. I don't believe in augurs so, why should it hurt that I cannot have my stars read? But it does..."

Turning away from the stars, I locked my eyes with his once more. They were the color of a warm ocean and I wanted to lose myself in its depth and warmth.
"My husband didn't either believe in augurs. Not even in the gods... and for sure not the priesthood or the official cult. But his birthday was all important to him... Every year, on that date, he freed the more hard working ones among his slaves and also made lavish offerings to the gods and gave presents to his servants and had a big celebration... He was adamant about it and not even his failing health prevented him from doing so but at the very end..."
I pressed my lips tight to control the mixed emotions that were always awoken by the memories of those specially difficult days when, despite how hard I tried, I'd been unable to avoid being unfair towards the man who had given me so much and accepted so little in return.
"It hurt, you know? Organizing his birthday parties was my responsibility and knowing there would never be one for me hurt... It hurt badly... Apollinarius' mother told him the date of his birth before he was sold away and he celebrates it... And it hurts too... It shouldn't... I should be happy for him... I should be happy to know that he somehow rescued part of his real self but it hurts..."
And when I'd been confronted for the first time with the celebration of Marius Servilius Tibullus' birthday, my bitterness had been so intense that I had had to endure the resulting humiliation of being unable to hide it from him.

"When it came to celebrating his first natalicia after getting married, my husband noticed my... discomfort about the subject and in his no-nonsense way, he simply suggested I chose a date to celebrate mine... We were dinning and he brought up the subject with the practicality that was so much his..."
I didn't add that it had taken me years to understand that the seeming lightness in his tone had been but a cover up to his concern... and also a way to try to spare me the embarrassment of bringing up such a delicate matter.
"And what did you say?" asked Maximus, gently coaxing me to go ahead and speak what had been gnawing at my belly for so long.
I sighed deeply before answering.
"I thanked him for his thoughtfulness but refused to do so. I said it'd have been as fake as the ancestry provided by fake papers... And then he did something unusual. He told me to reconsider... When I said no, Marius Servilius never insisted on a subject. He valued his time too much... As far as I can remember, he only did it three times along the years I knew him..."
Maximus remained silent while I gathered my memories of the man who'd been my husband just in name yet somehow a better one than many real ones.
"When I refused to marry him... When I told him I would never be able to manage the shipping business... And when I refused to choose myself a birthday... He managed to convince me to marry him and to show me I could manage his fleet... but I was adamant about choosing a birthday for myself. "
"He loved you..."
There was neither resentment nor jealousy in Maximus' deep, rumbling voice. Just finality. And, as always, it made it all the more worst.

"He loved you..."

Did he?
Since my husband's death I'd asked myself the question more than once and I'd invariably came to a conclusion that was all the more unsettling that the unsettling question itself.
Maximus was waiting so I sighed again and shook my head no.
"No... No, Maximus. He didn't... love me... He loved his dead wife and his dead son and his ships... I'm grateful that he didn't for I wouldn't have been able to return his affection... But he... respected me... and for that, I'm even more grateful. Some times, being respected is more important than being... loved..."
I turned towards him.
"You were the first man who ever showed me respect, Maximus..."
He smiled a little, sweet smile and softly caressed my face once more. As he did, I raised my hand to touch his, then took it in mine, brought it to my lips and kissed it.
I kissed the hand that the young Lucius Aelius Commodus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus should have kissed during a cold night in Germania as a symbol of submission and loyalty to the man whom his father had appointed emperor of Rome. The hand Annia Lucilla Antonina should have kissed after him and for the same reasons. The hand his legate should have kissed in turn while swearing to defend Maximus' life with his own blood. Yet the three of them had betrayed him and knowingly condemned him to death...

Startled, Maximus tried to move his hand away but I didn't let it go and he reluctantly surrendered.
I kissed his knuckles again, then turned his hand and also kissed the warm, wide, callused palm. "I have been wanting to do this for six years," I said softly. "I love your hands... so strong yet so gentle... the only hands that ever caressed me..." I kissed his palm once more and as I did, I silently added to myself, "Hail Caesar!" my unspoken words the only homage he'll ever receive.

When I raised my eyes it was to see Maximus thoughtfully looking at me and before I knew what I was doing, I already answered the question burning in his greenish blue eyes.
"I will always treasure this day, Maximus..."
He nodded in silence and that was it.
We'd never again speak about the subject but all that needed to be said had already been said and we both knew all we needed to know. Six years ago Maximus had given me my freedom and returned me the right to live my life as I pleased or I could, nor I as I was ordered. A few hours ago, he'd taken me across the final threshold and given me the chance to be cleansed and finally reborn. I'd never know the date when I'd come into this world but nobody ever could rob me of what Maximus had given me that afternoon.
Without uttering a word, Maximus took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, then slid an arm around my shoulders and I didn't need any more encouraging to go back into his arms.

I don't know how long we remained like that, holding each other, our hearts steadily beating in unison, my breath softly blowing against his warm skin, his masculine scent flooding my nostrils, his big hand gently caressing my tousled red-gold hair.
"Julia?"
Now it was him who sounded drowsy.
"Hum?"
"What did your inestimable Cornelius Crassus do to make you so mad?"
I couldn't but giggle. Perhaps I was indeed a little drunk for I didn't know if I was laughing at the question or the fact that Maximus remembered the name of the young quaestor or both.
"He isn't my Cornelius Crassus..." I said pleasantly as I snuggled even closer to him. "After settling in Rome, I never saw him again... Regarding what he did... well, besides having a really bitchy sister, he patronized me..."
"Did the quaestor live long enough to dutifully repent from his mistake?" asked Maximus in a carefully neutral tone.
I smiled against his warm neck.
"Oh, yes. He lived even long enough to find himself a wife... I saw them together at the theatre..."
"And?"
I opened my eyes to find myself looking at the depths of two stunning aquamarine colored eyes. At the lack of an answer, Maximus cocked an eyebrow.
"Pretty little thing," I said noncommittally.
"Pretty? Not beautiful?"
"Just pretty."
Maximus remained silent for a moment then kissed my forehead.
"Stupid man," he grunted as he tightened his hold of me and I let myself be wrapped in his warmth, the gesture so possessive, so protective that I felt scalding tears forming beneath my shut eyelids.

Crickets sang their creaking song in the nearby bushes and the sound was as sweetly lulling as Maximus' warmth. The nightly breeze brought to my nostrils the delicious smell of damp grass and it replaced that of the spicy incense but could do nothing to overpower Maximus' male, unique scent.
Sleep was quickly getting me yet, even if I was exhausted, something inside me rebelled against it. Something inside me refused to let oblivion come to me. Something vague yet scary...

"Maximus..."
"Yes, Julia?"
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
He remained in silence for a heartbeat, grasping the hint of fear in my voice. The fear of losing him while I slept. The fear of waking up not to find him by my side as it had happened when I'd fallen asleep in his arms six years before. Maximus caressed my hair and softly whispered, "Of course I will. Go to sleep, Julia..."
And he kissed the top of my head.
"Maximus..."
My hands tightened their hold of his robe.
"Shhh... Sleep, Julia... There's nothing to worry about... I'm here. Go to sleep..."

I slept.
So deeply.
Oh, yes. I had never imagined that happiness could be so exhausting.
Even more exhausting than grief.
I slept in Maximus' arms, my head resting on his chest, the strong, regular thud of his beating heart lulling me as much as the warmth of his body did.
I slept and I dreamed.
And my dreams were vague yet absurdly detailed.
I was walking along a wheat field, the gold colored, rustling stalks undulating in the balmy breeze. They reached well above my waist and even if I know nothing about crops I somehow I knew the wheat was ripe.
Or perhaps somebody mentioned it.
Oh yes, that was it.
A voice inside my mind said the wheat was ready and the crop was good.
A deep, rumbling voice.
Maximus' voice...
There were other sounds. I heard a child laughing... and there was so much happiness and careless freedom and innocence in that sound that my eyes blurred.
The sun was shinning and I raised my face to it, letting it bathe me with it's warmth and it's warmth was sweet but not as sweet as Maximus' yet the blazing, golden light blinded me for a moment.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't at the wheat field but standing by a log fence and the child's laugh sounded so very close...
There she was, my baby, my little girl.
She was a lively toddler and as always she was barefooted, her little feet dirty and her tunic badly rumpled.
Her dark ringlets danced in the breeze as she clapped and jumped and pointed beyond the fence crying in obvious delight...
Then I saw what she was looking at... It was a pony. A little, plump, chestnut colored mare. And somehow I knew her name was Sagitta. (**).
The green eyed boy was there too. He was mounted on the pony and was laughing too but then became serious while he struggled to follow the instructions someone was giving him...
Maximus was showing me his back but there was no way I could not recognize him. He was dressed in a simple, plain tunic and boots, his heavily muscled arms bare under the sun, his deep, rumbling voice encouraging the boy mounted on the chestnut mare when he seemed to hesitate and praising him when he managed to control the little beast.
And somehow I felt vaguely embarrassed, as if I'd had no right to be there.
As if I'd been spying on something so private I was not supposed to see it... Even my little girl who was always so close to me in my dreams seemed to not even notice my presence...
Distracted by the sight and the strange thought, I failed to see that my little girl was getting impatient at being left out of the exciting game and was already climbing the fence, clearly decided to take part in what was happening on the other side.
She was so little and she could so easily get hurt!
I run towards her but, alerted by her excited cries as she managed to make her way towards the top of the fence, Maximus turned and hurried to go to her, scooping her up in his arms as she kicked and squirmed, demanding to be put down... or, perhaps, on the broad back of the little mare.
Maximus said something to her and she quieted then trustingly slid her little arms around his neck and giggled as his beard tickled her petal soft cheek when he kissed her. And when he raised her higher in his powerful arms and sat her on his wide shoulders, her jubilant cries echoed in my mind...

The world rocked beneath me as I read it does when there's an earthquake. Vaguely I thought it was Poseidon's anger because I'd refused to make an offering at the Earth Shaker's altar to keep Luna safe... or perhaps for having being regarded as Julia Dea (***) by two men when I was but a faithless, mortal woman.
The world rocked again and something wet and cold fell on my cheek.
"Maximus..."
"I'm here..."
My eyelids felt like lead and I couldn't manage to open them even recalling all my will. But my hands seemed to have a will of their own and blindly grabbed the fine fabric of his robe.
"It's starting to rain... We have to go inside..."
Maximus' voice vibrated against my breasts and despite darkness and confusion I finally understood why the world was rocking: he had scooped me up in his arms and was carrying me inside the cabin...

He laid me on the bed and raised to go but my hands tightened their grasp of his robe once more, refusing to let him go with the stubbornness of a drowning man grabbing a piece of wood.
"Julia... I have to take care of the lanterns..."
Beyond the rumbling tones of his voice, I could hear the wind in the nearby trees and making the ship's ropes and furled sails creak as the first rain drops tapped on the cabin's roof.

Sighing, I let him go.

I don't know how long he was gone.
At some point, as I wandered lost somewhere between sleep and consciousness, I squirmed and softly moaned my protest at Maximus' absence.
As if on clue, he entered the cabin bringing along with him a damp gust of wind and slammed the door shut. Then I heard his hurried footsteps as he closed and secured the porthole's shutter then padded towards the bed.

"Maximus..."
"I'm here, Julia..." he said softly and I heard a rustling sound... He was taking off his robe and some raindrops fell on my hair and my exposed throat. Then I heard him rummaging somewhere around the cabin and the sound of a chest lid being closed told me he'd been looking for a blanket.

Maximus came back to the bed and lowered beside me. I rolled on my side and snuggled against him, in the same trusting way Rubia did in winter nights when, during lightning storms, she came to my bed and curled beside my belly seeking for warmth and safety. His bare skin seemed impossibly warm through the silk of my robe. I vaguely protested when he covered both of us with the light blanket, but when he took me in his arms and wrapped me in his warmth I forgot everything and quickly went back to sleep.

I woke up in the dark hours close to dawn, the rain rhythmically patting on the roof, the wind gently rocking the ship's hull. I was lying on my stomach, a most unusual position for sleeping for I usually prefer to lie on my left side. I tried to move but something prevented me. It took some time and effort to find out what was preventing me to roll on my side. Then I recognized a big, strong, warm hand gently caressing my neck, moving my hair aside.
"Maximus..."
"I'm here..." he crooned as his other hand moved down my back.
He was peeling off my robe.
I stopped offering resistance.

Maximus softly caressed my shoulder blades, then my back as his hand traced his way down to my waist and described lazy, gentle circles on my buttocks.
I sighed.
He lowered his head and softly kissed my nape and my already naked skin erupted in goose bumps. Then, he rolled me on my back and his lips closed on my neck and throat, nuzzling, nipping, moving so softly on my skin as his beard tickled it.
I let myself go and it was very much like the drugged sleep of six years before but without any hint of doom or desperation or grief.
It felt like floating...
I couldn't swim but somehow I knew that floating was like that weightless, languid feeling I was experiencing in Maximus' arms. Somehow I knew that water could be not the enemy ready to swallow me but very much like the soft feather mattress I was lying on...
Maximus kissed the upper swell of my breasts then his mouth traced a path down the valley between them.
I moaned.
His lips moved towards my nipples, always so softly, so gently.
It was like being fleetingly touched by a teasing, silken butterfly.
"Maximus..."
"I'm here..." he whispered and his warm breath softly blew over my hardened, wet nipples and more goose bumps erupted. Now I could feel one of his arms tightly wrapped around my waist and his other big, callused hand lightly caressing my hip then cupping my softly rounded belly and warmly resting there.
And for a brief, fleeting moment, my belly felt not all softness and slightly rounded as it was but swollen and ripe and something stirred and rolled beneath the taut skin.
My eyes snapped open. Or at least I think they did for I could see nothing but darkness...
Still resting on my belly, Maximus' hand slightly trembled.
Had he also felt it?
"Maximus..."
"I'm here..."
His scalding tongue replaced his hand and toyed with my navel and despite drowsiness and confusion I felt myself smile as his beard lightly rasped my skin for I have always been ticklish there...
Under his lips, my belly felt soft again and gently curved downwards and Maximus kissed the slight hollow beneath the curve, then nipped the spot and kissed it again.
"I'm here..." he repeated as his hands caressed the back of my knees and
I arched against the feather mattress in automatic response.
"I'm here..." he said once more then kissed me as intimately as a man can kiss a woman...
I softly moaned and moaned again as he went on kissing me so softly, so gently, so sweetly that I felt myself melt against his lips...

Then he moved away and before I could protest the loss of his kiss, he came into me.
Swiftly.
We sighed in unison.
He moved.
Languidly. Slowly.
I moaned again.
Louder.
It was so different from what we had shared but a few hours before, not blind need and frenzied passion but a languid, sweet, soft, tender dance. Before there had been neither time nor room for tenderness. Now, I knew I couldn't take anything else... And neither Maximus.

"Give me a child..."

Did I really say those words? Did I really say the words I'd never spoken in loud voice but that had burned in my mind since the first time I'd met him? Was it really me giving voice to my most secret longing, a longing so secret that I'd never even dared admit it to myself?

"Give me a child..."

Or was it Maximus? Was it him who gave voice of his own secret longing, to his hope to have his seed fructify again and go on living free of slavery and pain through his child? Did anyone of us really speak? Or perhaps we both did? Did we really say those words aloud or was it our souls silently talking to each other through our bodies and hearts?

It seemed to go on and on forever as we languidly moved, prolonging our union, giving and taking in that new, completely different yet so absolute way. It was so sweet that I couldn't stand it and burning tears pooled again under my eyelids then streamed down the corners of my eyes.
I sighed and swallowed.
"I'm here..."
Maximus kissed me and as he did, I tasted myself in his lips and tongue, the feeling so erotic that fierce flames burned in my belly.
But there was something else...
My lips tasted his own masculine flavour and my feminine, pungent one but also that kind of saltiness that can only come from tears.
Mine?
His?
Was he as overwhelmed by his feelings as I was by mine? Had the agonizing beauty of our union broken his last, deepest defences as a river swollen by the flood breaks down the strongest dam?
My eyelids refused to open no matter how hard I tried.
I wanted to touch his beloved face in search of tears but my hands weakly raised only to fall on the mattress again.
Soon it didn't matter whose tears they were.
Soon the flames in my belly turned into a burning ache.
I cried against his lips and tried to increase the rhythm of my rocking hips, to raise them and entwine my legs around his waist, bringing him closer, bringing him deeper inside me even if he was as deep as he could be... but Maximus stopped me, calmed me down, his sure, knowing hands touching me in all the right places, forcing me to prolong the sweet, sweet agony...
Sighing deeply, I let him do and lost myself in both the sweetness and the agony.
And when he finally let me go, as I rode the unstoppable wave of release, my sigh turned into a moan.

"I love you..."
"And I love you..."

Did I really hear him say those words? Or was it just a trick played by my mind? Was it really Maximus' voice? Or was it something my imagination already made up? Was it the wind softly blowing among the trees and the summer rain tapping on the cabin's roof? Or just the conjure of an overwhelmed heart?
Did it matter?
I moaned again.
Louder.
"I'm here... I'm..."
Maximus' voice broke as he reached his own peak and the emotion in his voice was so naked, so intense that it stocked the dying flames of my own, prolonging my release and my seemingly endless spasms claimed his time and again.

No, it didn't matter if he'd said he loved me or not.
It didn't mind if it had really been his voice or just a dream for his body and soul had already said what his heart and mind couldn't even acknowledge.
Drained both physically and emotionally, Maximus slowly let himself slid down on my body, till I was blanketed by the silken heat of his bare skin.
"I'm here..." he repeated, his face buried in my neck, his breath blowing warm and damp against my ear.
The last thing I heard before going into oblivion was the even rhythm of Maximus' breath.
This and the distant rustling sound of the wheat stalks swaying in the breeze...
But there was something more... Something I had heard only in my dreams yet so familiar...
It was the sound of a child's laugh.

(*) Natalis: In Latin, "birthday".
(**) Sagitta: In Latin, "Arrow".
(***) Julia Dea: In Latin, "The Goddess Julia".

Twenty Third Entry - The Swimming Lesson - A.D. 180

But when I woke up, Maximus was not there.

It was no gentle awakening, not the languid resurfacing that could have been expected after the unbridled happiness of the previous day and the tender, sleepy lovemaking in the pre-dawn hours. Instead, my eyes snapped open as if I'd been disturbed by some loud noise. Yet, there had been no noise, just the sudden surfacing from deep sleep. Disoriented, my heart hammering wildly, I sat up and looked around me.

I was lying on the bed in the small cabin of the Poseidon where Maximus had taken me when it'd started to rain. My naked body was covered by the light blanket that had already slid to my waist as I sat up and the cabin had been tidied up with a meticulous care that spoke of military training. My robe was neatly folded on the chair, the hamper and the amphora on the desk, the carpets back in their places and the cushions piled up in a corner. Fulmen's saddle rested against the opposite wall.
None of my maids could have done it more efficiently.
The blind covering the porthole was still in place but a slanted sun ray filtered through a crack between the wood planks and it was obvious that it not only had stopped raining but that it was also late in the morning, probably close to noon.
The cabin's door was closed

And Maximus was not there.

Perhaps it had been the absence of his warmth what had awoken me so abruptly. Perhaps I had crawled across the bed seeking the comfort of his body heat only to find a cold, familiar, dreaded emptiness...
I panicked remembering another lonely awakening six years before...
Where was he? Where had he gone? He wouldn't leave me... not after last night... Not after what had happened between us the day before... He had promised me he'd be there in the morning. That he'd be there when I'd open my eyes... Had something evil befallen him? Had Proximo, angered by Apollinarius' deceit, come back from Rome and taken him away even if the allotted nine days (*) were not over? Or, worst of all, had Commodus sent his praetorians to seek Maximus and kill him? Outside of Rome, far from the protective adoration of the mob, he was a lot more vulnerable to the emperor's attempt to get rid of him... Had I unwillingly made things easier for him? Had I inadvertently given Commodus the chance to kill Maximus as I had inadvertently given Proximo's guards the chance to mock him and abuse him? But if it had been the case, why hadn't I awoken? Maximus would not go down without putting a fight... And why hadn't the praetorians killed me? Leaving behind someone who knew as much as I did simply made no sense...

Pushing those unsettling thoughts from my frantically racing mind, I jumped from the bed, grabbed my robe, then darted outside while struggling to tie the sash.
Sunlight hit me with full force. I closed my eyes against what seemed like a myriad burning blades and staggered but somehow managed not to fall. Yet the deck seemed to rock beneath my feet and I felt queasy. It took a moment for my stomach to settle and my head to stop spinning. Blindly, I grabbed a rope and remained there for a moment, breathing heavily and inwardly cursing myself for leaving the bed so abruptly.

I was still there, gripping the rope and with my eyes still shut when I heard the whinny. I raised my head abruptly, risking another bout of queasiness... and my throat tightened at the sight that welcomed me: Maximus was grooming Fulmen by the pond's shore. He was wrapped in the wine red robe but had rolled up the sleeves to work more comfortably and for the lack of a brush or a currycomb he was using a handful of dry grass to rub the horse's back. As Fulmen whinnied for a second time and vigorously bobbed his head, Maximus raised his and saw me standing on the deck, all pale cheeks and tousled red-gold hair.

He smiled.

I felt myself go faint again and grabbed the rope with renewed force.
Then I let it go and, unable to stop myself, run towards him.
Before setting to groom the stallion, Maximus had already taken down the Poseidon's gang plank to avoid having to use the rope ladder to climb up and down the ship. My bare feet stomped on the wood as I run down towards him and before he could take but a step or two towards me I threw myself in his arms.

Maximus caught me, my momentum forcing him to step back not to loose his balance. His strong arms protectively slid around my body as mine went around his neck and I buried my face in it, frantically pressing myself against his warmth as if I'd wanted to lose myself inside him... which I wanted.
"You're here," I half said, half sobbed against his warm skin, relief at finding him around and safe so intense that I couldn't control the hot tears scalding my tightly shut eyes. "You're here... You didn't leave me..."
Maximus caressed my tousled hair and soothingly kissed my temple.
"Of course I'm here," he whispered.
Unable to stop myself, I sobbed.
"There, there..."
Maximus gently stroked my mane and his deep voice reverberated in the depths of his broad chest, finding an echo in my own as I remained tightly pressed against him.
"I woke up and you were not there," I hiccuped. "I thought... I thought..."
"That I had left you?"
With a supreme effort I forced myself to raise my head and look into his sea-colored eyes. No matter how many times I looked into them, I never failed to find them stunning.
"I was scared..." I mumbled not wanting to admit I'd doubted him even if so briefly. "I was scared something... something bad had happened..."
Maximus smiled and his smile was so sweet, so full of tenderness that I felt faint again and grabbed the fine wool of his red wine robe to prevent my knees from bending under my weigh.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," he said still smiling, the lines in the corner of his eyes deepening. But, like his scars, those lines didn't mar his rugged, all male beauty but enhanced it even more, the proud decorations of a man who's man enough to take his life in his own hands and live it with honor and dignity.
My lips trembled at the tenderness in his voice. I tried to hide it by pressing them tight but Maximus prevented me by caressing them with his callused thumb pad and, on their own volition, they steadied then slightly parted under his touch.
"I'm an early raiser," he went on. "Soldiering and farming do this to you. And if I remain in bed when wide awake, I become restless. You were sound asleep and I didn't want to awake you..."
"You should have awoken me," I breathed. Lost as I was in the depth of his aquamarine eyes and flooded with relief, I could barely form the words.
Maximus smiled again as he cupped my face with his big, strong hand.
"I admit the idea crossed my mind..." he said softly as he offered me a little, cheeky grin. "But you seemed to need your sleep badly. I spent a long time watching you sleep... "
At the mere thought of Maximus observing me while I was unaware, my cheeks became hot as I wondered what had he seen while I helplessly laid asleep by his side. As if he'd read my mind, Maximus used his other hand to push my tousled hair away from my face.
"I like watching you sleep. You look like a kitten, all soft and trusting and warm..."
Feeling myself blushing even redder, I lowered my eyes with a modesty that probably even the Chief Vestal Virgin would have found touching.
Before I could talk, before I could say that I too liked watching him sleep, there was a soft snort and a gust of warm breath fanned my ear.
We turned just in time to allow Fulmen trust his big, silky bay colored head between us and as he did we couldn't but burst into laughter. Maximus took the stallion's halter with one hand as he lowered to reach the handful of grass he was using to groom him and that he had let fall to catch me.
"Hello, precious one," I said as I also grabbed Fulmen's halter and rubbed his velvety muzzle. The horse answered me with another soft snort. "You don't like being ignored, hum?"
The stallion meaningfully rolled his beautiful, brown eyes and I couldn't but laugh again. Oh, yes. When it comes to cats and horses, we understand each other.
"Poor boy," I went on as I rubbed his forehead. Maximus had already returned to his grooming and the stallion gave voice to his satisfaction at the double dose of attention producing a soft, pleased whinny. "Where were you during the rain, uh? Missed your comfortable stable?"
"After unsaddling him, I tied him loosely and close to the trees so he must have taken shelter there. When I found him this morning, he had already managed to get rid of his rope and was leisurely grazing by the pond and fairly dry," commented Maximus as he went on working on the horse's hid quarters.
"I told you Fulmen is a smart horse, " I said as I caressed the animal's velvety neck with proprietary pride. "He has a talent when it comes to escape from his ties. That is how he managed to run away with Luna."
The stallion seemed be following the explanation with his full attention and at the mention of the silvery grey filly, he produced a toothy grin.
I laughed them asked in feigned seriousness, "Will your colt be as smart as you, my beautiful? If so, I will have to order reinforced ropes for you both!"
Maximus raised his head.
"Why did you say that you will be able to see if he stamps his get when Luna foals? Haven't the other two mares you got along with him already foaled?"
"Oh, yes. They foaled two beautiful colts but they are not Fulmen's sons," I said as I looked for another handful of grass to help him rub the stallion. "When Sempronius went to my client's farm to choose the horses, he saw some good stallions there and choose Fulmen and two mares that had been covered by different ones. He said those stallions had already sired beautiful colts and if we were to breed horses, we should seek for different blood lines otherwise we risked quickly falling into inbreeding and having weak animals."
Maximus whistled in admiration.
"Your stable master for sure knows his trade," he said. "Where did you get that treasure?"
I smiled, satisfied that Maximus saw Sempronius under the same light as I did even if he hadn't yet met him.
"My husband bought him as a shipyard slave a couple of years before we married," I explained as I started rubbing the stallion's opposite hind quarter. "He was very young and very strong, barely... broken..." I said hesitating at the use of the word. Maximus went on working as if I had never said it.
"Then, one day, while he was attending some business at the shipyard, there was an accident and an ox they were using to pull a cart was injured..." I explained while I carefully worked the shinny, bay colored coat. "The oxen was hurting bad and scared, so it went wild and the foreman was going to order it killed before it caused a greater damage in the shipyard when Sempronius forced his way towards the animal and managed to control it and calm it down, then tended the wound."
"Oxen are mostly good natured animals but when they are scared or hurting, they can become pretty dangerous," commented Maximus. "It takes lots of physical strength to control them..."
I nodded. Sempronius was strong enough to fall an adult horse with his own hands. I'd seen him do it when it had been necessary to cure a wounded one.
"My husband was very impressed and when the ox recovered from his injure thanks to Sempronius' care, he decided it was a waste to have him working at the shipyard and instead brought him here and put him to work at the stables."
Maximus looked at me across the Fulmen's broad back but said nothing.
"When he was young and healthy, my husband used to ride a lot and kept many horses," I explained in answer to his unspoken question. "Then, he became sick and couldn't risk a fall so he had to give up riding. But he always loved horses... Sempronius did wonders working with the animals and proved to know a lot about their ailments and how to cure them. So, when my husband's stable master died the following winter, he inherited the job... and kept on doing wonders."
"How many horses do you have nowadays?"
"Twenty," I said as I moved to the stallion's shoulders.
Maximus whistled again.
"Not all of them are saddle horses," I explained. "There are two teams to pull my carriage. Fulmen, Luna, Sidereum, Nebula and Lux and their colts. Then come the retired veterans, a couple of them so slow and fat that even Apollinarius dares mounting them!"
Maximus chuckled but said nothing.
"Then there are some old animals that earn their fodder pulling the garden carts while they enjoy a walk in the sun."
"How many hands to help Sempronius?"
"Three... plus the invaluable Simacus."
"And Ferox!" added Maximus with a smile.
"And Ferox, yes," I laughed. "I wonder what Sempronius' mastiff has to say about him..."

While talking, we had already finished grooming the stallion. The tail and mane would have to wait till we went back to the villa to be combed unless I offered one of my brushes. Maximus slapped Fulmen in the rump and the horse bobbed his head before trotting towards a succulent patch of grass and returning to his grazing. We looked at the horse in companionable silence for a moment then Maximus slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards him. With a sigh I slid both my arms around his waist and again buried my face in his neck, avidly sniffing his male scent now mixed with a hint of leather and horse... and suddenly conscious that I was naked under my silk robe and smelled of sleep and sex, something Maximus must have had already noticed.
"You haven't breakfasted, have you?" asked Maximus.
I shook my head no. My awakening had been too abrupt and too troubled to think about breakfast. And now, at the mention of it, my stomach churned. It was very much unlike me. I usually woke up thirsty for my honeyed, lemon flavoured water and never missed my minced fruit or cooked cereals. Breakfast was a time of the day I enjoyed very much, usually a time to quietly talk with Apollinarius, be it politics, business or simple, mundane gossip. But that morning, the mere thought of food not only sounded unappealing but also vaguely sickening.
"Do you want to have something before we go ahead?" he asked.
My stomach churned again.
"No," I said. "I think I ate too much last night. I still feel... full..."
Maximus used his index finger to raise my chin and I found myself once more lost in the depths of those eyes the color of a warm ocean.
"Good," he said. "It'd be a pity to waste such a beautiful day..."
It was indeed beautiful, the turquoise colored sky like a silk canopy above us and the sun shinning like beaten gold, its warmth enveloping us like the softest blanket.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked, snuggling against him once more.
"Well, it's a perfect day to fulfil a promise," he said.
A promise? What was he talking about?
I raised my head and arched my eyebrows quizzically.
Maximus smiled.
"The perfect day for your first swimming lesson..."

I felt as if I'd been splashed with a bucket of cold water.
A swimming lesson?
No way.
"Maximus..." I started.
He stopped me with a finger pad against my lips.
"Julia, I made a promise six years ago and I failed to fulfil it. I always keep my word..."
I squirmed in his arms, trying to free myself.
Sensing my turmoil Maximus let me go.
I took a step back then looked into his eyes.
"Alright, Maximus, I free you from your promise..."
He remained silent for a moment, then nodded.
"You can free me from my promise, Julia, but you cannot free me neither from my responsibility nor my worry..."
"What do you mean?"
"Knowing how to swim is like knowing how to ride. It can save your life..."
I wrung my hands nervously.
"Maximus, my life takes place here and in Rome... I never go on the ships... and when I travel -- which I seldom do -- I do it by land..."
"What if you have to travel by ship? How do you think you'd feel if you'd have to spend weeks at the sea not knowing how to swim?"
At the mere thought, my stomach churned one more time but I dismissed the notion with a gesture of my hand.
"Nonsense. I don't plan to go anywhere by ship. As for the business... I pay people to do the travelling... And I pay them handsomely."
"Journeys are not always planned. Sometimes you simply have to take them..."

He moved towards me and when he took me in his arms, I didn't offer resistance.
"Julia, do you remember what you told me when you asked me if I'd teach you to swim?"
Did I?
Oh, yes. The events of that night were burned in my mind as every single word we had exchanged and every single moment shared with Maximus was. Heartbroken and drugged with opium, my naked body barely wrapped in a sea-green tunic so flimsy that it seemed but a handful of foam, I'd begged him to take off his leather cuirass and hold me in his arms. I'd begged him to hold me really tight then crawled onto his lap and, burning with the primitive urge to couple, to have him plant his seed in my womb, I'd tried to have him take me. But he'd denied me once more and I'd wept my misery away in is arms, babbling incoherence and asking him if he'd teach me to swim.
His last words before I fall asleep echoed in my mind.

"Yes, Julia. I will teach you how to swim..."

But when I'd woke up, he hadn't been there and during the next days, I hadn't seen him but once and from afar, while he walked across the camp with the emperor. And then had come our good bye in an early, summer dawn, while I sat on top of my mount and he stood by my side, dressed in the full regalia of his office.
Maximus rumbling voice brought me back from my reverie.
"You said you were afraid of water, afraid of drowning... and that you didn't like being afraid. That you didn't want to be afraid anymore..."

My throat tightened at the memory of the pain that had filled my heart when I'd spoken those words... and the violent surge of emotion at knowing he remembered them.
"Julia," he went on softly, "it worries me to know that you are still afraid of drowning..."
I relaxed in his arms.
"Maximus, it's not really necessary..."
He kissed the top of my head.
"Julia, if you don't want to do it for yourself, would you at least do it for me? Please?"
"I'm scared..." I blurted before I could stop myself.
"There's nothing to be scared of..."
I buried my face in his shoulder.
"Of course there is," I protested.
"Julia, did you ever get a foot in the pond?"
With my face still buried in his shoulder, I shook my head no.
"It's very shallow... at the deepest point, it barely reaches my chest..."
"It's deep enough to drown!"
My words were muffled by his robe.
Maximus chuckled.
"I won't allow anything bad happen to you..."
I tried another opening.
"The water must be cold..."
"Trust me, it's warm enough. I took a swimming earlier and it was fine..."
I shifted my weigh from one foot to the other.
"The bottom must be muddy... I don't like stepping on mud..."
"There's no mud, Julia, just sand and smooth stones..."
Running out of objections, I tried a time honored female gambit.
"I don't have adequate clothes..."
Maximus burst into laughter. He cupped the back of my head in his big hand and gently forced me to look at him.
"Julia, you don't need clothes to learn how to swim!"
As soon as the words left his lips, he sobered and added, "Well, I guess that would not be a good idea... Don't you have a little tunic like that one you wore at the beach at hand?"
"No!" I retorted, pointedly ignoring the word "little", "I wear those tunics only at the villa's pools or the beach..."
Maximus seemed to give some thinking to our wardrobe problems.
"What about an old tunic? Something you don't mind tearing, so you can shorten the skirt?"
"May be..." I offered sullenly.
Maximus cocked an eyebrow.
"I have an old ridding tunic..." I admitted grudgingly, my mind still racing frantically, trying to find a way to escape the unwanted swimming lesson... and the embarrassment of making a fool of myself in Maximus' presence. "I tore it when it got caught in a thorny bush on my way here and left it at the ship after changing into another..."
"That will do," said Maximus with a smile then freed me and lightly pushed me towards the Poseidon. "Go and put it on. You will also have to coil your hair or it'll be very uncomfortable. I will wait for you here..."
I looked at him with wide, begging, puppy eyes but he just smiled and pushed me again towards the ship.
"Go," he repeated and I forced myself to do as he told me, resignedly dragging my damp, bare feet towards the gang plank.
I had already mounted it when Maximus called me.
"Julia?"
I turned around to find him standing on the stones.
"Thank you," he said softly and offered me the same loving smile he'd offered me the night before while talking about horses and I couldn't but feel that my heart was going to burst then and there. And, risking to drown seemed a fair price to pay for that smile.

I delayed my return as long as possible but there was not much I could do to postpone the inevitable. And I already knew that when Maximus got something in his mind, he could be as inexorable as Fate itself. So I washed, put on the torn ridding tunic, coiled my heart in a makeshift bun the usually stubborn tendrils did their best to escape from and went back on deck with the enthusiasm of a condemned marching towards its own execution.

I found Maximus still dressed in his robe, sitting on the gang plank, his legs dangling above the pond as if he'd been a boy quietly enjoying a moment of peaceful solitude.
When he saw me, he smiled but didn't stood up.
"Good," said Maximus, "Very good. Come closer, Julia", and he patted the gang plank beside him.
I took a couple of steps and stood beside him. Maximus fingers traced the tearing at the tunic's skirt, where it had been caught by the thorn and seemed to consider it for a moment. Then, he took the fabric between his strong hands and ripped it. After some more tugging and ripping, the tunic sported a drastically abbreviated skirt that ended about four inches above my knees, about the same length of the cotton one I had worn at the beach.

"This will do," said Maximus obviously satisfied with his handy work. As he talked, one of his callused hands caressed my calves making me shudder.
"Beautiful legs," he commented casually then stood up. "Hardly news, isn't it? Everything about you is beautiful..."
I thought he was going to kiss me and my lips parted on their own volition but, instead, Maximus took off the robe, folded it tidily and hung it on the rail, then took off his sandals and threw them on the deck. Taking my hand, he walked down the gang plank as I grudgingly followed him.

When we reached the stones, he helped me plant my feet on them and, before I could guess what was he going to do, he jumped into the pond splashing me in the meantime.
Reflexively, I shut my eyes.
"Come, Julia," he said and I warily opened them.
I was standing on the stones, drops of water running down my legs while Maximus stood in the pond. It was shallow indeed... The water barely reached the upper part of his powerful thighs...
"Come," he said smiling encouragingly. "The water is delicious..."
I didn't move. Maximus came closer and caressed my right foot.
"Come," he coaxed as his fingers traced my ankle and then the contour of my calf.
I wanted to retreat but there was not enough room for such manoeuvre.
"Jump, Julia. It's fun," said Maximus as he went on caressing my ankle.
"I can't," I mumbled.
"Of course you can!"
"I'm scared!"
I was close to tears and Maximus noticed it. He gave up caressing my calf and raised his hand to touch mine. Despite my unwillingness to take part in the swimming lesson, I lost no time to entwine my fingers with his.
"Julia, children can swim even before they can properly walk..."
"I'm not a child!"
"Every living being can swim," he insisted. "You are not different."
"Animals are born knowing how to do it... I was born scared of water!"
Maximus smiled.
"Julia, you have learned to do many difficult things like managing a fleet. Compared with this, swimming is but a children's game. Come..."
Again I tried to take a step back and again had to remind myself there was no room enough. The only possible way out of the situation seemed to be running up the gang plank and barring myself in the cabin. Compared with the resulting humiliation, drowning seemed a better choice.

I jumped.

I had the grim satisfaction of taking Maximus by surprise but his lightning speed reflexes allowed him to catch me and prevent me from falling on top of him. I threw my arms around his neck and frantically hugged him, my toes barely touching the mysterious, scaring bottom of the pond.
"There, there," he said as he hugged me in return. My heart was hammering so wildly I was sure Maximus could feel its beating like little blows against his own chest.
"See?" he went on in his most reasonable tone. "The pond is very shallow. Water barely reaches your hips... And it's not cold, isn't it?"
"No," I mumbled grudgingly. He was right. The water not only wasn't cold but delicious.
"Now, we will go into the pond itself, where it's little deeper..."
Whatever little confidence I had managed to gather vanished like a puff of smoke in the blowing wind.
"Why can't we do it here?"
"Because it's too shallow and a little crowded with all these statues and their pedestals besides the ship. We need some more room, alright?"
Freeing himself from my embrace, Maximus took my hand and gently tugged at it.
"Come. Don't be scared, the pond is shallow and I will be beside you..."

We took a few steps and I stumbled on a smooth stone. Maximus' powerful arm immediately came around my waist and when I regained my balance he steered me towards the center of the pond. Halfway there, water covered my buttocks and I hesitated.
"You're doing fine, Julia. More than fine..."
But the next six steps took all courage I could gather and all the considerable persuasion Maximus could master.
Finally, when water reached my waist, Maximus seemed satisfied.
"Now, we are deep enough but it's not dangerous, you see? Do you feel comfortable?"
I nodded grudgingly.
"Well, now I want you to relax. There is no secret to swimming, Julia. Just relaxing and letting the water support you..."
"Water cannot support you!" I protested. "If you throw a stone in the water, it goes down!"
Maximus chuckled.
"Stones go down, but people who's smart enough to relax, float... And floating is the first step to swimming."
That caught my interest. Maximus noticed it and like any good teacher would have done, wasted no time in pursuing the line. Apollinarius would have clapped in admiration.

"People who's afraid of water -- as you are now but will not be any more after I teach you how to swim-- become tense and that is why they go down. When you become tense, you stop breathing evenly and that also helps you go down..."
I frowned.
Apollinarius had taught me some basic scientific knowledge but I preferred philosophy. Maximus went on with the implacable logic and precision of a Roman military engineer. Or a legionary commander.
"If you are relaxed, water supports you and you float. If you breath deeply and evenly, you float even better. Swimming is just a matter of relaxing and breathing deeply and evenly then making some few simple movements... There's no secret to it, Julia. Anybody can do it..."
As he talked, Maximus scooped some water in his hand and poured it over my shoulders. Then scooped water for a second time and poured it over my breasts. My nipples tightened in automatic response and I visibly shuddered.
"If you remain standing here and don't get your body wet, you are gonna find getting into the water a little uncomfortable... By the way, in order to learn how to swim, you have to get into the water..."
I offered him a ferocious glare and he answered with a cheeky grin, then thoroughly poured water all over my upper body and I let him do. When my tunic was all damp and plastered over my breasts and water dripped down my arms, Maximus quickly dived into the pond. Before I had time to gasp, he resurfaced, water dripping down his tanned, taut skin and beautifully delineating his well developed muscles. At the sight of it, I nearly forgot my fear of water...
"Now, Julia, I will wet your face..."
"No!"
Brusquely brought back from my blissful contemplation, I turned my face away.
Maximus gave me time to calm down.
"Julia, there's no way you can learn to swim without getting your face wet..."
Still showing my back to Maximus, I hugged myself in a time honored gesture of intense misery. Sliding an arm around my shoulders, he gently forced me to turn around and I let him do.
"It's not so bad... you get your face wet when you bath and wash your hair..." he said softly, his lips against my temple.
His voice was so low, so soothing that not even my primal fear was able to resist it. I offered him a nervous, little smile. Maximus returned it with a dazzling one.
"That's better. That's a lot more better..."
As he went on talking, Maximus scooped some water in his hand and raised it.
"Close your eyes. I will do it slowly..."
I couldn't but obey him and as I closed my eyelids I felt the first drops on my face. They fell on my cheek and run down my neck. It was not unpleasant. The second scoop wet my other cheek and the third my forehead. As water run down my nose I stuck out my tongue to catch a few droplets.
Maximus chuckled again.
"See? It wasn't so bad, was it?"
He went on till my face was completely wet and some tendrils that had escaped my makeshift bun plastered on my damp skin. Maximus pushed them aside and I opened my eyes just in time to see him scoop me up in his arms in his usual, effortless way.
Then, he took a few steps more into the pond.

"What are you doing?" I cried, a renewed surge of panic gaining me, my arms frantically closing around his neck.
Maximus kissed my temple.
"Shhh, Julia. Relax. Close your eyes and relax as much as you can... "
I bit my upper lip, then the lower one.
"Come, Julia. You can do it..."
"I can't..." I said in a little voice.
"Of course you can," said Maximus in his most reasonable, most patient voice as he slowly walked around carrying me. "Breath deep and relax..."
I took a deep, tremulous, shuddering breath.
"Good," he crooned as he went on walking. "Very good but you can do better... Try again..."
Torn between fear of water and fear of making a fool of myself in Maximus' presence, I swallowed hard and took another, shuddering breath.
"It won't work... I can't do it," I whispered but Maximus pretended not to hear me.
"Julia, what did you feel the first time you got on top of a horse?"
I blinked then opened my eyes to look at him. Maximus' head was bowed towards mine and his greenish, blue eyes were all softness, all gentleness.
"It... it was like nothing I had experienced on the ground... It was exciting..."
"And you were not scared?"
I shook my head no.
"Not even a little?"
"May be a little," I admitted, "I was a child about eight years old... and the horse was not exactly a pony... Even if I was tall, the horse was a lot more taller..."
As I talked, I eased my hold of his neck and rested my head on his shoulder in a more relaxed way.
"Did you ever fall from a horse?"
I giggled.
"A dozen times... and not always when I was a child but mostly when I tried to learn how to jump..."
"You jump?"
My giggle became louder.
"I haven't given a try in years... I'm not good at it... I taught myself... I was about fourteen and I did it in secret..."

I smiled at the memory of the pains I had gone through to hide my makeshift self teaching and the resulting soiled clothes and bruises after falling from my horse... and Turia's rage when those bruises prevented me from attending one of Cassius' parties. She had slapped me but hidden the fact from him, arguing I was unwell otherwise he'd had slapped her in turn for being lousy enough to let me risk my precious neck jumping over his villa's fence. Too distracted both by the memories and the excitement of sharing them with Maximus I failed to notice that, for the first time in my life, I was not grieving at the past but even enjoying the episode.
"My... guardian... forbid me to do it but I escaped now and then and did it again... I was punished a couple of times and then we went to Moesia and I had no more chances to do it..."
"Why did you do it despite the falls and the punishment?"
I arched my back and closed my eyes.
Then I spoke and my voice sounded dreamy to my own ears.
"Because when I rode I felt free as I never did... but when I flew with my horse over the fence I felt... powerful... I felt unstoppable..."
Suddenly, Maximus bent his body to the right and my back abruptly descended towards the pond's surface as my legs raised in the air. I shrieked in surprise but not exactly in fear. The movement brought his face closer to mine as he kept me suspended above the pond's surface.
"Swimming is very much like riding, Julia... There's a special kind of freedom to be found in it... and also a special kind of power..."
He raised keeping me high above the water again.
I frowned and one of my fingers absently toyed with the leather thong around his powerful neck as I pondered his words.
"Water is not an enemy..."
My frown deepened.
"But it can kill you..."
"It can kill you if you don't know how to behave around it..."
My finger went on toying with the thong as if on its free will.
"You can drown even knowing how to swim..."
"And you can break your neck in a horse fall even if you know how to ride..."
I raise my eyes to look at his.
"Water is not your enemy, Julia," he insisted, "unless you make an enemy of it... Same happens with horses. They are big and strong and they have a mind of their own and they deserve respect... but nevertheless, you can ride them..."
The logic of his words startled me and I searched his eyes seeking for what burned beyond their beauty and color and warmth.

"Trust me," said Maximus softly.

And that did it.
I took a deep, deep breath and closed my eyes as I rested my head on his shoulder again.
I took a deep, deep breath and that time I didn't shudder.
I took a deep, deep breath and allowed his warmth to engulf me.

I don't know how long we remained like that but at some point Maximus talked again and his voice seemed to come from a long, long distance...
"Now, I'm going to lower you into the water... Don't worry, I will be supporting you. It will be not very different from putting you on your bed..."
"Hmmm?"
A deep, deep languor seemed to have taken me. In the distance, I heard Maximus' softly laugh and it was like listening to a far away rumbling thunder.

He carefully lowered me into the pond and I didn't protest when the water surrounded me, wetting my hair and raising as high as my ears. One of his big, warm hands supported my head, the other my lower back.
"Good... Good..."
The water was neither cold nor warm but something intermediate and delicious. If felt like liquid silk and gently rocked. I think I was smiling...

"Spread your arms..."
Without opening my eyelids, I obeyed with the blind, eager trust of a child who knows herself protected and safe despite the strange environment. Once spread, my arms seemed to move on their own accord, gently swaying in the rocking, silky water.

"Julia..."
"Hmmm?"
"Open your eyes..."
I vaguely resented being called back from my lulled, comfortable state but
I did as he bid me and saw Maximus towering above me. He was smiling his sweet, boyish smile and I couldn't but return the gesture.
Then he softly caressed my face and I noticed he was not supporting me anymore... I was floating on my back, utterly relaxed, the pond's water gently cradling me...
I was floating.

Floating!

I had done it and it hadn't been so hard.
In truth, it had been not hard at all.
Astonishment was replaced by elation.
Oh yes, he was right.
So very right.
It was very much like riding.
Very much like jumping over a fence.
You only had to let yourself go...
I burst into laughter and Maximus laughed along with me.

I sunk.

Unbalanced by my own exhilaration and merriment, my fledging skills were not enough to keep me afloat. The last thing I saw before sinking was Maximus' panicked face as he hurried to grab me but he couldn't reach me before I had already gone down and the pond's surface closed above my head muffling the sound of the chirping birds and cicadas and replacing it with the gurgling one of the bubbles clustering around me. Absentmindedly, I noticed that my eyes were open and somehow it seemed natural...
Then, in a flurry of water and bubbles and splashing, Maximus frantically grabbed me and scooped me up in his arms, water dripping from my hair and splashing him as he searched for my face...

Blinking and spitting, I burst into laughter

Maximus scared look turned into one of comic relief that added to my hysterical merriment. Then he grinned and started laughing too as he put me on my feet and his hands pushed the dripping tendrils off my face.

Unable to control my excitement, I forcefully grabbed him by the nape, brought his head down and kissed him hungrily.
Taken by surprise, it took Maximus a moment to recover and return my kiss.
I pressed my wet body against his, absentmindedly noticing that not even the time he had already spent in the water had been enough to cool his body's heat. Water dripping down his bare skin made it even more silkier than usual and added to the sensuousness of sliding against it.
When we broke apart we were both panting and burning and Maximus' painfully throbbed against my belly, urgency turning his greenish blue eyes into sapphire colored pools.
"Yes," I panted against his mouth. "Yes..."
Lightning flashed in the depths of his burning eyes and I felt myself become liquid.
"Here... Now..."

Maximus took a quick look around then grabbed me by my waist and dragged me along with him as he hurriedly stepped towards the Poseidon's stern. Before I could ask him what he was doing he'd already steered me towards the pedestal where the siren's statue sat and I needn't know any more.
He pushed me against the stone none too gently while he fumbled with the ties of his loincloth, need making his hands tremble.
He had barely rid himself of his scant garment when one of his strong hands darted beneath my shortened skirts seeking to rid me of mine...

His eyes widened.
I blushed crimson.

"I... I... f-forgot... packing..."
Maximus' roaring laugh put a stop to my embarrassed babbling.
Then his urgent hands grabbed my thighs and he guided my legs around his waist and I had no more time to babble or be embarrassed as his swift, total invasion of my body made me gasp, my own arousal making his way free of any possible obstacle or resistance.
Tightening his hold of me, Maximus pressed my back against the pedestal, trapping me between his warmth and its coolness and he closed his eyelids, fiercely reigning his own need, his biceps bulging with the effort.
Heavily panting, I arched against the cold marble bringing his throbbing heat deeper inside mine, avidly licking my dry lips as I gasped for air, my breasts heaving with the effort.
He remained quiet for a long moment and suddenly I couldn't stand the wet, shortened tunic that prevented me from feeling all the glory of his nakedness against mine anymore. I frantically tugged at it, squirming and writhing to take it off. My movements brought him back to reality... and close to losing his grip on himself.
"Julia..."
A few more tugging and the offensive garment flew into the pond as my hands grabbed the combs and pins that kept my hair coiled and threw them into the water, where they sunk among soft, plopping sounds.
Dripping, naked, my wet hair a heavy mass over my shoulders and back, my back pressed against the marble pedestal, Maximus' hands supporting me under the water that covered our lower bodies, I locked my eyes with his.
"Now..." I urged him. "Now..."
This time it was Maximus who was lost in the depths of my eyes and I knew the wild fire that burned there was as intense as the familiar flames the burned in his.
Suspended in his arms, filled to bursting yet hungry, I braced myself with a hand on his shoulder, tightened my legs around his waist and slid my other hand to the back of his head, firmly cupping it. Then, I guided him towards my breasts, set high in front of his face...
He didn't need more encouragement and his hungry, hot lips closed on my pebble hard nipple at the same moment his hips flexed and started the manly rhythm while mine answered launching the female, rocking one.
Naked in the water and under the sun, we were lost to everything but our own need to be as close as man and woman can be, oblivious to everything but the perfect, maddening rhythm of our union as we climbed and climbed towards our peak.
And that time, when we reached it, it was in unison, our hoarse cries joining into one and so loud that it sent the startled birds in the nearby trees away in a flutter of feathers and frenzied squeaking.

And that time it was me who collapsed on top of Maximus, burying my face in his damp neck and he grunted softly while forcing legs that I knew were still shuddering with the force of his release to steady in order to be able to support my weigh. Little by little the furious beating of our hearts calmed down as our panting gasps turned into even, deep breathing.
The sun was high, close to the zenith and warm on my naked skin.
Minutes passed and none of us seemed inclined to move.
"We better get you away from the sun before you get red as a lobster," murmured Maximus, his warm breath gently fanning my ear.
"You sound like my maid," I murmured in answer and Maximus' giggled, a surprising sound coming from the depths of his wide, strong chest.
"The gods protect me from your maid's anger if I bring you back sporting some freckles," he said then sighed and added, "Can you walk or should I carry you?"
I bit his neck and Maximus softly yelped then giggled again and I couldn't but giggle in return.
"Of course I can walk!" I said indignantly. "And I also can float..."
But when Maximus put me back on my feet I wasn't so sure about it. As I wrung my waist long hair to rid it of some water, he fished our clothes from where they were floating then dived to rescue my combs and pins. And as he did, I couldn't but admire the unimpeded view of his taut, glistening buttocks.

By the time he had recovered most of my pins, I had managed to regain my strength and we padded hand in hand towards the ship. And when the water became too shallow to cover my hips, I couldn't but feel more than a little conspicuous. From the shore, Fulmen looked at us with interest then offered us a high pitched whinny that sounded too much like a sarcastic horsy comment about the peculiarities of human behaviour to my own comfort.
Turning my head around towards him I stuck out my tongue.
The stallion was not impressed.

We dried up with towels I produced from the armoire in the cabin and returned to the deck wrapped up in clean ones. It was warmer than the previous day and, at high noon, too hot to remain in the cabin while outside the blazing sun left no room for a hint of shade. I suggested we moved under the nearby trees but Maximus did some rummaging around the ship while I hung our wet clothes from the rail and recovered his red wine robe, taking it into the cabin. By the time I came back, Maximus had already found an extra sail and some rope and was industriously dealing with the logistics of setting an improvised awning above the cabin's door. It took him but a few minutes to have the canvass spread and firmly tied to create a roof that provided delicious shade. Then, he went into the cabin and came back carrying the feather mattress.
"Your Eastern rugs are beautiful," he commented "but a bit too thin to pad the deck..."
I smiled and went back into the cabin to bring some silk covered cushions. He was right. The deck was indeed hard and my lower back was a little sore.

We set comfortably under the awning and that time I didn't protest when Maximus took my comb and helped me disentangle my damp, tousled hair.
When that was done, we ate a succulent cold lunch but after a couple of tries I was forced to leave the piece of roasted meat I was trying to eat.
"Do you feel alright?" asked Maximus taking notice.
"Yes," I said as I took instead a cooked artichoke. "It's just that last night I ate too much."
I nibbled the artichoke tentatively and as my stomach made no objection, I went on eating just vegetables.

After lunch, we laid under the awning some times talking about little things, some times just enjoying the companionable silence. In between one and another, I fed Maximus the remaining pine nuts and raising biscuits.
In due time we napped only to awake half way into making love.
And when it was over, we napped again.
It was long past mid afternoon when we raised and Maximus suggested a new trip to the pond. That time, I didn't object.
My second swimming lesson was shorter the first one, partly because Maximus didn't need to coax me into relaxing and partly because having ventured into the pond without a stitch on our bodies proved to be highly distracting.

Light was fading when we returned to the ship, tired yet splashing like children. Once back on board, we dried and dressed without uttering a word, then Maximus set to dismount the improvised awning. Still without uttering a word, I tidied up the cabin, cleaned the dishes and by the time he took the saddle and went down in search of Fulmen, I was already packing.
When he came back it was to find me standing at the stern, looking at the sun set blazing above the glass like surface of the quiet pond. He stood at my back and his arms lightly wrapped around my waist. Closing my eyes, I rested my body against his broad chest.

I didn't want to leave the Poseidon. I didn't want to leave the enchanted, little world of the timeless pond and the ship trapped in its still waters feeling as if we'd been the only living humans in the world. I didn't want to go back to the villa... I didn't want our time together to come to an end.
"We can come back tomorrow..." whispered Maximus against my temple, then softly kissed it.
Opening my eyes, I forced myself to turn my face and look into Maximus', managing in the meantime to offer him a little, tremulous smile.
Tomorrow.
Yes, there was still "tomorrow" for us.
"Tomorrow" and a few more days.
Real world was awaiting for us but that beautiful, blazing sunset, that sweet intimacy, that little moment suspended in time was ours and ours alone and I didn't want its beauty marred by the brutal ugliness of the world.
"Of course, my love..." I whispered in return then turned completely in his arms and kissed his beautifully sculpted mouth.
It was a long, long kiss and as it went on and on I felt it was not only our lips that were touching but also our hearts and souls.
And I knew Maximus also felt it.

Then, it was over and after locking the cabin we went hand in hand towards the bay stallion, that looked at us with the undisguised curiosity that's so common in smart horses, cats and dogs.
Maximus helped me mount, then mounted behind me and I wasted no time to accommodate my body against his spread thighs and strong chest. Taking the reins in one hand, his other arm wrapped around my waist, he steered Fulmen towards the dirt road and the villa.

Maximus didn't urge the horse but instead let it walk at leisure, prolonging the sweetness of our time together in a world away from the world. A couple of times Fulmen stopped to graze the succulent, summer herb and when Maximus failed to steer him ahead, he turned his head to look at us over his glossy shoulder, obviously intrigued by the lack of discipline of the being who was supposed to be in command.
Failing to impress either Maximus or me, Fulmen finally opted for a lazy step, only his tail moving briskly as it swept the nightly insects away.

It was a good thing the bay stallion already knew the way back to the villa for Maximus and I were too busy with each other...

(*) The Roman week was not seven days long as modern ones but nine, extending from market day -- called in Latin nundinae -- to the next market day. The resulting period of nine days received the name of nundinium. The habit of measuring the time in seven days periods comes from the East and was used by Hellenistic astrologers. There's historical proof that Romans knew about this Eastern method as early as the reign of emperor Augustus (27 BC to 14 AC) but it took centuries till it became uniformly accepted all along the empire and replaced the original, nine days one.

Twenty Fourth Entry -The Butterfly - A.D. 180

The first thing I noticed when I woke up and even before opening my eyes was the soft warmth at my back. I was laying on my left side and the warmth spread all along my body, following the natural curve of my hips and my slightly bent knees. It was nothing like the warmth you get from a blanket. Not even from the finest furs. It had a completely different, live quality and involved that special kind of sweetness that only comes from equally sweet satiation.
Sighing, my eyes still closed, I smiled what I knew to be a blissful, lazy smile.

Maximus.

Little by little and despite my closed eyelids, I took notice of other details. The freshly pressed linen under my cheek that faintly smelled of roses but also of man and woman and love; the soft, regular blowing in my hair, the strong, muscled arm wrapped around my waist, the big, warm hand gently cupping my belly…

I sighed again. Deeply. Contentedly. And while at it, I must have moved because the living wall at my back gently shifted to better accommodate my body with a delicious ripple of heavy muscles and warm, silky skin.

Maximus.

My smile became broader.

Still laying on my side, my eyes closed, I went on taking notice of my surroundings. And while at it, I was vaguely surprised to discover that in the same way intense grief brings along a new kind of awareness, intense happiness makes us all the more perceptive. But while intense grief makes us mostly take notice of the grim details and the ever present ironies of life, intense happiness enhances our senses in a way that allows us to discover, perceive and enjoy the beauty that lies hidden inside the simplest things, making us marvel and wonder why we never noticed it before or how could we have lived so long without discovering them.

In my mind's eye I saw my bedroom not as it had been every single day of the five years passed since I'd arrived in Ostia as a bride but the night before, when Maximus and I had returned to the villa...

We had come to the main entrance of the house to find a group of servants diligently lighting lanterns. They had welcomed us in their usual, respectful way but a stable boy appeared to take care of Fulmen with such swiftness that it was obvious they had been alert and waiting for us for some time.
Maximus dismounted and helped me do the same, then took the bag he had tied to the saddle and while he exchanged a few words with the stable boy, Nicia materialized at the top of the stairs and hurried down to greet us. My Greek maid's round face was a perfect mask of respectful politeness but she could do nothing to prevent her brown eyes from sparkling with a mix of mischief, delight and female complicity. At any other circumstance, I'd have frowned at the blatant familiarity of her knowing gaze but in the same way it had happened that morning two days before, there was something oddly comforting in her attitude and before I could do anything to prevent it, I found myself offering Nicia a radiant smile.

Always conscious of his importance as my steward, Athenodorus hurried down the stairs as quickly as his lame leg allowed him and offered me a deep bow and a few welcome words. Unlike his wife, the former shipyard foreman had never mastered the art of subtlety and his was such a broad and delighted smile that indeed would have had me frowning hadn't it been for Nicia's quick and determined intervention, as she took the bag and entrusted it in his hands then pushed Athenodorus back towards the house. Nevertheless, she didn't move quickly enough to prevent me from recognizing in her husband's eyes a hint of something that took me a moment to identify. And when I realized that it was the closest thing to fatherly delight that I'd ever come to know, my cheeks burned so badly that for a moment I hoped I had spent more time under the sun so it could be blamed for their high colour.

Clumsily nodding my thanks to Nicia and eager to escape to the sanctuary of my apartment, I turned towards Maximus as he climbed the stairs and stretched out my hand. Automatically, his fingers intertwined with mine.
Fully conscious that all the gazes were on us, I swallowed then raised my eyes to his. I was half expecting to find in them some hint of embarrassment once he took notice of the audience's attention. Public displays of affection are not the Roman style, dignity and respect always favored above gentleness and caring. In their public appearances, even married couples act either businesslike or solemn, never in a loving way. I suppose that such a tradition is helped by the fact that most Roman marriages are arranged and love plays a little role in them if any. For most couples, marriage just means wives dutifully bearing children or dying at it while their husbands take their pleasure in the many brothels of the city or against the walls of the dark alleys of the Urbs.

But if Maximus took notice of my servants' curiosity, he didn't show it and instead offered me his sweetest, boyish smile and I felt my cheeks blush again, this time out of absolute delight. We remained there for a moment, holding hands at the top of the marble steps while I returned his smile with a shy one and we could perfectly have been the only living people in the world for we were oblivious to everything and everyone. It was one of those unique, perfect moments when time seems to have stopped and everything seems possible. One of those unique, perfect moments when you feel you cannot only spy eternity but grab it and make it yours… for it's in those simple yet perfectly happy moments that you get a hint of things huge enough to humble you as life and eternity are.
A discreet cough at my right forced me to sober and I opened the march towards my apartment where we arrived without further incidents but a few furtive, curious looks from some servants who quickly averted their eyes. I knew Apollinarius had to be somewhere around but he remained invisible and I silently blessed the man who had been my tutor but was above all the best friend any one could ask for.

As we entered my private apartment, I didn't stop at the sitting room but marched towards the bedroom, fully conscious that I was on the brink of crossing another threshold even if a symbolic one. But for a faithless woman like me symbols are powerful as augurs are not and the threshold I was on the brink of crossing hand in hand with Maximus was as important to me as that we had also crossed together in the Poseidon's cabin.
No man had ever been admitted to the sanctuary of my bedroom but Apollinarius and even him no more than a few times. Neither husband nor lover had ever entered the room where I barricaded myself against vulnerability with the only company of my books, my cats and my memories of Maximus. Neither husband nor lover had ever shared the huge canopied bed where I slept -- cold and lonely -- night after night, dreaming awake about the only man I had ever loved and some times being lucky enough to dream with him while asleep. Neither husband nor lover had ever kissed me awake in the soft light of the early morning or hugged me in the darkest hours of the night when despite freedom and riches and power I suddenly felt so empty, so vulnerable, so fragile that I was afraid the simple weigh of a feather would be enough to crush me.

But that was the past and the only thing that counted was the present, the now and then, for it was for those now and then that I had lived every single minute of my life. Opening the heavy, carved, oak door, I turned towards Maximus and smiling to him once more, entered my ultimate sanctuary hand in hand with the man that should have aged by my side if only the world had been a fairer place and the gods just a bit more human…

Maximus stopped dead.
I turned around.
My eyes opened wide.
I think we both gasped even if we did our best to conceal our surprise.
I swallowed hard.

It was my bedroom, yes, but at the same time it wasn't.
Somehow it looked familiar but at the same time completely different.
Of course, it was the same, big, airy, sunny room that opened to the terrace, the marble floors covered with rich, Eastern rugs, the walls devoid of murals and painted instead in panels of warm honey beige ribboned with gold, the high ceiling decorated with stylized garlands of flowers in soft, pastel colors...
It was the same, big room, richly furnished with magnificent armoires and coffers collected from merchants and antiquarians all around the empire, my dressing table covered with exquisite perfume vials and lacquered boxes, the polished mirror where I absentmindedly studied my reflection day after day, the comfortable reading couch where I curled with a good book and a warm cat. The same room with delicate chairs and stools that remained empty of visitors month after month, a couple of tables and the huge, canopied bed that had hosted my sleep and my dreams and memories and loneliness for five years.

I had loved my apartment from the same moment I had entered it for the first time and along the years I had furnished it with things that were beautiful but above all meaningful for, as I said, even for faithless beings like me symbols are important. And, for those of us, things not only have to be beautiful in order to be cherished but also have significance or something to tell us.
I loved my apartment and I specially loved my bedroom, the beating heart of that corner of the house where I could retreat whenever I needed to think, rest, plan or simply look back, be it in anger or -- more and more frequently -- simple melancholy. It had always been an exquisite room, a place that spoke of riches and taste and carefully guarded privacy, a temple erected as much to appease a troubled heart and a restless spirit as to celebrate mortal beauty and a regal solitude chosen to disguise painful loneliness.

There had always been something magical about my bedroom but now that magic was stronger and from a different kind. The room was ablaze with the golden light of several lamps. Dozens of magnificent blood red roses filled exquisite glass and alabaster vases and their perfume flooded the room along with that of the fragrant woods that burned in gilded braziers. The translucent silk hangings that gracefully fell from my bed's canopy had been untied and floated in the light, salty, evening breeze. On a nearby table, purple and golden-green grapes shared a silver bowl with velvety peaches and polished apples. Two goblets and a matching silver and gold jar shared a lacquered tray awaiting for our thirst. A cream colored silk robe delicately embroidered in gold was displayed on the reading couch and a pair of matching silk slippers could be seen beneath it. On the lid of the coffer I kept at the foot of the bed, the same where I had hidden Maximus' slave tunic, the clothes I had bought for him were tidily folded…

Letting Maximus' hand go, I warily padded towards the bed, darting furtive glances towards the translucent hangings. No matter how tired I was, I always read in bed for an hour or so, so I kept the hangings tied at all time to avoid risking an accident, the perfumed smoke of the braziers more than enough to keep the night's insects at bay.
Now, with the hangings untied and gently floating in the evening breeze, the bed looked as different as the room itself or even more. It looked like a soft, shimmering cocoon ready to protectively wrap itself around something utterly beautiful and fragile, isolating it from the grimness of a menacing world. Or like some magical barge escaped from the fogs of a legend and ready to take us away if we only dared to climb on it…

As I looked at the bed in silence, I could feel Maximus' eyes fixed on it too. There was something more about it but my mind refused to grasp the idea.
Something special.
Fascinating.

And then, suddenly, it dawned on me.

It was no more my exquisite yet cold, lonely bed.
It was neither a cocoon nor a magical barge.
It was, instead, a marriage bed.
And with the same, striking lucidity, I knew that Maximus also knew it.

Biting my lower lip, I spied through the translucent hangings to find the usual, bronze colored bedspread taken away and fresh linen sheets invitingly turned, the many feather pillows plumped and waiting to be used.
Biting my lower lip harder, I took another step towards the bed half fearing to find rose petals showered on the pristine sheets, inwardly swearing to wring Nicia's neck if that was the case… and feeling oddly disappointed when I discovered it wasn't…

I was brought back from my reverie by a light caress on my cheek. It was a brief, fleeting sensation but definitively no product of my dreamy mind. I frowned. At my back, Maximus remained immobile, his breath warm and even, blowing in perfect rhythm with the purring surf. Used as I was to the sounds and smells and rhythms of the sea, the salty breeze told me it was a little after dawn. If I gathered enough will and strength and opened my eyes, I would see the sky set afire by the early sun, the horizon shimmering in a red gold hue, the same of my hair…

"You still have hair like... like a sunrise?"

Oh, yes. Maximus himself had compared my mane with the flames of an early sun…

Relaxing again, I sighed and, as I did, I felt drowsiness closing on me once more. It was so sweet, so good to be there, in that bed wrapped in gauzy, dancing, silk hangings enjoying Maximus' closeness and warmth…

I was on the brink of falling asleep again when the fleeting, soft touch on my cheek came again.
It couldn't be one of the hangings moving in the breeze for I was laying close to the center of a bed big enough to shelter six people. And also couldn't be Rubia for no loud thud had announced the big cat's landing on the mattress. Besides, when the huge green-eyed creature wanted to awake me or coax me out of bed, she butted her head against my chin and if that proved not to be enough she went for my hair.
Warily, I cracked an eye open.
The room was flooded with an intense pink light that, seen through the translucent hangings, turned the delicate hue of a flame seen through a piece of the best alabaster. Even if my household should have been already engaged in their daily tasks for some time, that side of the villa remained silent and quiet but for the chirping of the early birds in the gardens below and the ever present purr of the nearby surf.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement.

My eyes opened wide… and I found myself facing a butterfly as it gracefully danced in the air merely inches from my face.
I held my breath.
The butterfly pirouetted in front of my eyes, then circled above my head while I struggled to follow its movements without alarming the little creature or awakening Maximus. For a moment, it seemed to remain suspended in the air then delicately landed on the translucent hanging directly in front of my eyes.

Frowning in concentration, I studied the little creature. It was but a scrap of golden brown silk, the wings barely two inches wide, each one sporting a perfectly round, greenish blue spot the same colour of a peacock's feather.
The same colour of Maximus' eyes…

I blinked.
The butterfly batted its wings seemingly in answer.
I couldn't but giggle.

"What's so funny?" asked a deep, rumbling voice at my back.
A shiver run down my spine.
"You were awake?"
"I have been awake for a while…"
Maximus sounded slightly sleepy but mostly alert.
As if he had read my thoughts and to confirm how alert he was, he pressed his body against my back.
Another shiver run down my spine.
Seemingly irritated by my distraction, the butterfly batted its wings again, imperiously demanding my attention.
"Open your eyes…"
"How do you know my eyes are closed?"
At the playfulness in his sleepy tone, I couldn't but smile.
"If your eyes were opened, you wouldn't be asking me what's so funny…"

Maximus softly laughed in my hair, kissed my nape then raised on an elbow, his other arm still around my waist. At the soft, rippling movement of his muscles, I instinctively arched my back against the warm silk of his broad chest eliciting a growl of approval that vibrated in its depths. Then, he caught sight of the silky creature gently rocking on the delicate fabric as the breeze moved the bed hangings.
"Oh," he said, the deep rumble of his voice so full of young, innocent wonder that I couldn't but think about the laughing, lively, beautiful children in my dream. Those dreamed children who shared his blood…
"Isn't it beautiful? " I whispered.
"Indeed, " said Maximus as he better accommodated at my back, his bearded chin resting on my bare shoulder. "And how did your little friend ended up here?"
There was something oddly arousing about listening to that heated rumble, about feeling it vibrate in the depths of his broad chest pressed against my back and enjoying his body's warmth yet not seeing him.
"It must have come from the gardens and get trapped in the bed's canopy when Nicia untied the hangings…" I said, my eyes focussed on the butterfly that kept on batting its wings with majestic regularity. As I talked, I carefully, slowly moved my hand towards the winged creature.

I needn't see Maximus to know he was following my movements with full attention, obviously intrigued by what I was doing but knowing better than to ask.
Holding my breath, I slowly raised a finger towards the butterfly but stopped dead when it shuddered delicately and seemed on the brink of taking to the air.
The silky wings bated warily, the greenish blue spots like suspicious eyes studying me.
I let a heart beat pass.
Two.
Three.
Raising my finger again, moving with infinite care, I reached the butterfly then traced the delicate contour of a silky wing…
At my back, Maximus softly gasped.
The creature remained immobile.
I stopped, giving it time to get used to my touch, fully conscious that an abrupt movement would send the butterfly flying… and that in the frenzy to escape, it could easily break its fragile silky wings.
The butterfly didn't move but for the regular batting of its jewel-like wings.
I traced their contour again.
The creature lightly shuddered then bated its wings once more, the greenish blue spots like blinking eyes looking directly into mine.
Biting my lower lip, I caressed it again.
The shuddering abated and the little thing indulged me for another moment then suddenly darted towards the canopy's heights where it settled in majestic solitude, a golden brown triangle directly above our heads.

"You tickled it…" murmured Maximus, his callused fingers gently toying with my navel.
I giggled.
Maximus' fingers stopped in mid movement. I didn't either need to see him to know his left eyebrow was cocked.
"Ticklish?" he breathed against my ear and my skin wasted no time erupting in goose bumps.
"Maximus…" I warned him but it was too late for he already had me writhing and squealing under his hands.
As I struggled against the tickling, he lost no time to roll me in his arms and, breathless and panting, I found myself trapped against the warm, living wall of his massive chest and looking into stunning greenish blue eyes that sparkled with humour.

"Good day, Domina…" he breathed and my heart missed a beat.
"Good day, General…" I breathed back and rubbed my cheek against his bare shoulder, "Did you sleep well?"
Maximus sighed then kissed my forehead.
"What do you think?"
I smiled back and buried my face in his warm neck, avidly breathing his male scent.

There had been an awkward moment when it had been time to go to bed.
We had spent what remained of the evening in the terrace, enjoying the balmy night, sharing a light meal and some wine, feeding the cats and playing with them. There had also been small talk and those intimate silences during which our hearts and souls felt so close that it was nearly painful.
Little by little, the villa had fallen silent while, lying on the couch I kept there, we looked at the moon sailing across the starry sky, lulled by the surf's purring and the shared warmth of our bodies.
It had been Maximus who at some time had suggested we should retire and it was only then that I noticed how drowsy I felt. Not trusting my voice, I nodded my sleepy agreement. Oh yes, happiness can be exhausting.
Smiling, Maximus stood up then helped me do the same and we returned to the bedroom hand in hand to find out that Nicia had been there while we remained at the terrace. She had turned down most of the lamps and a dim, golden, intimate light had replaced the blazing one that had welcomed us. A flimsy, cream-colored nightgown awaited on the reading couch and Maximus' robe was a red wine pool on a nearby, gilded chair.

Feeling suddenly shy, I averted my gaze from my maid's intimate arrangements for our first night in my bedroom only to find myself facing the huge canopied bed. Under the dim light, the translucent hangings softly glowed like the nacreous inside of a seashell and I couldn't but think again about Aphrodite, clean and renewed, sailing back towards the celebration of love.

It had been an awkward moment for neither the blazing, frenzied passion of our first couplings nor the languid, dreamy lovemaking while the rain patted on the cabin's roof had prepared us for the ultimate intimacy of that moment. Suddenly, the ease we had experienced at being together even six years before evaporated leaving in its place a mildly embarrassed self-consciousness. This was not simply about giving ourselves to each other and the urges of our love-starved bodies. It was not about sharing our bodies as men and women are born to do it. Instead, it was one of those little, simple, domestic things that are no matter of lovers but of husbands and wives.
And both of us were painfully aware of it.

It was Maximus who broke the silence.
"Which one is yours?"
Grateful for the interruption but not grasping the meaning of his question, I turned towards him blinking in puzzlement.
He offered me one of those little smiles that always made my heart jump.
"Your side of the bed," he said softly. "Which one is yours?"

I blinked again now seeking for an answer, no matter how lame for, how could I tell him that even if a ghost can sometimes bring a certain warmth to an empty bed it requires no room and thus I had never come to prefer any side of the canopied bed? How could I tell him about nights spent tossing and turning on the wide expanse of the feather mattress as I chased in my dreams his remembered, elusive warmth? Or how could I tell him about those other nights when I awoke hot and panting after reaching it?

But Maximus was waiting for an answer so I forced myself to talk.
"T-The left," I babbled not because it was true but because it seemed plausible.
"All right," said Maximus.

None of us moved.

All around the Roman Empire be it in the wealthy homes of the Palatine Hill, the dirty warrens of the Esquiline or the faraway provinces, husbands and wives got ready for bed. In senatorial bedrooms and tiller's huts and the damp boatmen's shacks in the muddy banks of the Flumen Tiberis (*), men and women undressed and got into their beds, be them canopied ones like mine or a mere heap of rotten straw and a soiled, damp blanket. Perhaps they talked while at it, the familiarity born of a shared life closing the gaps created by the absence of love. Perhaps some joked as they went over the events of the day while others quarrelled over the same things.
All around the empire, couples went on with their daily lives yet in my bedroom, Maximus and I remained in silence, hand in hand at the foot of a massive, luxurious bed. And for once that silence was born not out of ease and mutual understanding but out of hesitance.
"I-I'm sorry," I babbled feeling that it was my turn to say something and grabbing the first thing that passed through my mind, "I-I f-forgot to get you a sleeping shirt…"
Tenderness and amusement mixed in Maximus greenish blue eyes.
"I don't wear sleeping shirts…" he said as he used his other hand to gently push some tendrils away from my face, his big, warm, tanned hand as soft as his voice. Perhaps in the same way I felt I had to say something he felt that he had to do something and that something was touching me in his soothing, reassuring way.
"Never?" I blurted.
Maximus chuckled.
"Only in winter…" he added with mock gravity, "which is not exactly the case…"

Silence fell on us again and for another long moment we remained there, looking into each other's eyes. His burned with the usual, aquamarine fire and by the look in them, I knew mine were trembling, dark blue flames.
Yet none of us moved.
In the blaze of long denied passion, instinct and need had taken control and there had been no time for hesitation. Now, standing at the foot of a bed that looked like a marriage one, standing hand in hand in the middle of a room that seemed a wedding chamber, I felt shy as a virgin bride.
Never before had I felt more at a loss about what was expected from me. Should I undress there, in front of him, or instead modestly retire to a dark corner? Should I offer to help him undress before taking off my own clothes? Should I put on the flimsy nightgown or get in bed naked? Would Maximus get between the sheets ahead of me? Or should I wait there for him as a bride does in her wedding night? And once in bed, what would it be expected from me?
In the same way being a whore had taught me nothing about making love, just about giving pleasure, being a wife who was not desired by her husband had taught me nothing about simple, domestic intimacy. Men don't sleep with their whores. They just use them and want them out of their beds before they wake up. Wives who are not desired just go to their beds alone.

"I-I'm sorry..." I babbled again, not knowing why I was apologizing for, if for not knowing what a decent man like Maximus expected from the woman he choose to share himself with or for not being a decent woman myself. Or perhaps I was apologizing for not having other virginity to offer him but that of my own bed.
Maximus buried his fingers in my hair and caressed the back of my head.
I shuddered.
"I-I'm..." I started again, lowering my head and allowing my hair to fall on my face and hide my confusion and my trembling lips but he grabbed my nape in a gentle yet firm way and slowly forced me to raise my head and look into his eyes.

"I will wait for you in bed…" he whispered then brought our intertwined fingers to his lips and gently kissed my knuckles, the caress so brief, so soft, so loving that for a moment I thought my knees would give way. I remained immobile for a moment, fixedly looking at our fingers, his blunt and mine slender. His strong, mine delicate.
His looked like those of a bronze statue. Mine, like those of a marble one. In Rome, where public displays of affection are not the style, when it comes to sculpture, a man and a woman holding hands symbolize a married couple.

Swallowing hard at the realisation, I retrieved the nightgown from the reading couch and hurried towards the sanctuary of my bathroom.

By the time I returned -- freshly washed and wrapped in the delicate, cream colored night garment I couldn't remember having bought or at least ordered -- Maximus was in bed, his darkly tanned skin a stark contrast against the pristine bed linen. The upper sheet covered him to his waist and he had already discarded all the pillows on his side but one. His hands were clasped behind his head and he looked intently at the heights of the canopy. Before getting in bed, he had extinguished all the lamps but one set at a table near enough to light the bed but not so close as to be dangerous for the gently moving hangings.

Padding barefooted, I moved aside the gauzy fabric and hesitatingly entered the silken cocoon that was my bed. Maximus took his eyes from the draped canopy and turned them towards me and the flames in the greenish blue pools that were his eyes leaped as he registered the way my silk nightgown adhered to my breasts, revealing not only the tight buds of my hard nipples but even the shadow of their coral tinted aureoles. Fully conscious of the way it also revealed the dark bronze triangle at the juncture of my thighs, I shyly perched on the bed, crossing my hands on my lap.
The aquamarine flames remained steady for a moment then turned into a deep, sapphire hue.
I bit my lower lip.
"Do you want me to tie the hangings?" I asked mostly to cover my nervousness and managing only to make myself feel even more foolish.
Maximus' eyes softened into ocean colored pools.
"No, leave them as they are," he said as he briefly looked at the hangings then back at me. With his hands clasped behind his head, his biceps bulged even more than usual and the cinnamon colored curls of his exposed armpits looked like woven silk under the dim light. There was something oddly arousing about the pose and I felt the urge to touch him. To slide my palms over that broad expanse of living, warm silk.
Instead, I bit my lower lip again.
"Should I turn down the lamp?"
This time, he offered me a boyish grin.
"Do you want to turn it down?"
"I'm not afraid of darkness!" I blurted in a tone that was more defensive that I cared to admit.
The grin became wider, a flash of ivory on the dark gold of his face.
"Me neither, Domina, but it's nice in here with that soft light. Why not let the lamp burn out by itself?"
"Oh… Oh yes, sure…"

Silence fell on us but I didn't move. Instead, my fingers toyed with one the bronze colored silk sashes used to tie the hangings to the bed's posts.
"Do you think you will be comfortable?"
Maximus chuckled.
"In a bed big enough to host a minor battle? Well, it's quite an improvement from a narrow military cot and a ship's deck… I think I will survive."
I let out a short laugh but quickly sobered.
"I'm sorry… I…"
Moving with that feline swiftness that never failed to surprise me, Maximus unclasped his hands, rolled on his side and grabbed my arm.
I gasped.
"Come here…" he said in a husky tone.
I swallowed.
Hard.
"Come here..." he repeated and for a moment I feared my silk nightgown would go up in flames under his smoldering greenish blue gaze.

Gingerly, I climbed on the bed and slid under the cool linen sheet that faintly smelled of roses but didn't move any closer to Maximus. Instead, I remained there, tense and lost despite his nearness, fixedly looking at the draped canopy, my heart racing so madly in my chest that I though he must be able to hear the wild thudding. Was this what a virgin bride felt in her wedding night? How could it be possible to feel so shy, so confused despite the blazing intimacy we had shared at the ship's cabin?
"Won't you come closer?"
Startled, I turned to find Maximus intently looking at me.
I opened my mouth but no words came from it.
From his side of the bed, Maximus offered me not a boyish but a cheeky smile.
"I never slept in a bed so big..." he went on, "It feels a bit lonely..."

At the absurdity of his words and the sheer absurd of the whole situation I couldn't but return his smile with a tremulous one then nervously giggled.
Before I could move towards him, Maximus grabbed me by an arm.
I yelped.
Ignoring me, he dragged me across the bed then rolled me on my side and spooned at my back, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me closer till I rested against his broad, bare chest. As he did, his warmth enveloped me and with it came the sweet, familiar soothing feeling of being safe and cared for.
The feeling that nothing bad could happen to me while I was in his arms.

Cocooned by the warmth, the silence and the translucent hangings, our heads resting on the same pillow, I relaxed little by little then tentatively touched the strong hand that rested on my belly. Automatically, his fingers intertwined with mine in the same way they had done at the house's entrance.
My eyes blurred at the tenderness of a gesture that spoke of the sweet familiarity of long time lovers and husbands and wives married out of love or that at least had learned to love each other along the years of their shared life.
At my back, Maximus sighed then buried his nose in my mane.
"I like your perfume…" he softly said and his warm breath caressed my nape. "It is like nothing I ever sniffed before…"
"It's myrrh oil with a hint of lotus…" I whispered, unwilling to raise my voice lest it disturb the sweet quietness that had fallen on us.
"I like it," he repeated. "I always did…"
My heart missed a beat.
"Did you remember it…?"
The words left my lips before I could stop myself.
"From Moesia? Oh, yes. I remember it from the first time I saw you…"
I shuddered not only at the nature of the revelation but at the easy, unguarded way he had offered it.

"Julia. Julia. I recognize your scent now -- your perfume."

The confused, exhausted man who had blurted those words while chained in the dark atrium had barely being conscious of what he was saying. But the man warmly spooned at my back was perfectly aware of what he was saying and equally at ease with his own admission.

"How couldn't I?" went on Maximus, sounding very much like a man talking to himself, "I could smell it on my tunic for days on…"
His voice drifted in the silence of the night, the soft, low, soothing rumble mixing with the loud purr of the surf. Then, I felt his warm lips on my nape as he gently, softly kissed the sensitive skin.
I shuddered.
Maximus kissed my nape again then a third time.
"Sleep, Julia," he whispered, his breath now caressing my ear. "It's late and you are tired..."

I knew he wanted me. There was no way he could hide it from me, lying as I was with my buttocks resting in the big cradle of his hips.
He wanted me yet he was ready to give me the time to get used to his presence in my bedroom and my bed, another threshold to cross together and a major one despite blazing passion and easy intimacy. He was man enough to neither hide his desire nor to press it on me. And, most of all, he was man enough to treasure what little remained of my long lost innocence.

As scalding tears rolled down the corners of my eyes, I buried my face in the pillow.
"I love you, Maximus," I whispered in such a low voice that I couldn't even be sure if I had talked or it had been just a trick of my mind.
Anyway, there was no way he could have heard me.
Yet his arm tightened around my waist.
And that was how and when I learned that a man could make love to a woman in many ways and not merely coupling.
I should have known better.
Not so long ago I had been a whore and nobody knows better than a whore how little coupling has to do with making love.

I awoke at some time during the night, feverish and throbbing under Maximus' hands and lips. The lamp had already burned out and the fevered silk of his bare skin had replaced the cool silk of my nightgown, shyness forgotten and another threshold left behind as we were swept by the need to be as close as a man and a woman can be.
The only light in the bedroom was that of the few slanted moonbeams entering through the archway that opened to the terrace, hardly enough to distinguish the contours of the furniture much less to penetrate the silk hangings gently rocking in the night