Eighth Entry - Aftermath and Maximus' Second Denial

Seventh Entry - Gladiator Stories - Julia's Journal, Part 1 - Julia's Journal, Part 2 - Ninth Entry

My screams spiraled like a flock of bats unleashed by the sudden opening of Hades' gates. Time and again, my voice has been described as husky -- a low, throaty voice highly unusual for a woman and had been as praised as my beauty by those who didn't find it unsettling for the same reasons. I was trained since childhood to use my voice as another weapon of seduction, keeping it low, using its rich, dark tones to infuse my words with a heated promise of unspeakable pleasure. Turia found my voice unsettling and complained to Cassius that my only flaw was my inability to sing. But Cassius dismissed her complaints saying that he preferred a woman who could groan during coupling as huskily and as beautifully as I did than all the perfectly trained singers of the empire. Turia and Cassius, one time lovers who had held my life in their hands for so long and now both dead.

I can't remember having screamed in all my life but for the night at the elderly senator's house when I screamed in vain for help, for somebody to save me from the man who pinioned my twelve-year-old body under his. My screams had led me only to being viciously slapped, a lesson learned in the hardest way for the man enjoyed my resistance and was waiting for it, rape more pleasurable than simple taking. The senator's slaps had sobered me and the abused girl who had left the house carrying a stolen silver dagger hidden under the clothes of an expensive doll had never screamed again for there was no help to be called. Not until that night, when the same dagger had finally put an end both to submission and what little remained of my innocence.

I don't know how long I screamed but suddenly a group of praetorians and officers burst into the tent only to stop dead at the bloody scene. They looked at each other, shocked and disoriented, completely at loss. Martius, a young tribune, recovered quicker than the others and turned around to face me. I had retreated to the far end of the tent, anxious to put distance between the men -- both dead and alive -- and me, my hands pressed against my mouth. He came to me and hauled me by my arm.
"What happened?" he yelled, his eyes wild. He was one of Cassius' most trusted men and he knew what his and Marcellus' death meant: he had supported a man who had tried to seize the throne and now that man was dead. He was in deep trouble. When I failed to answer, he shook me hard but I only looked at him with eyes I knew must be wide and terrified.
"Stupid bitch!" he roared. "Tell me what happened! Was there anybody here? Answer me!" With the same detachment I had felt when I had nearly slit my wrists, I saw Martius raise his hand. He was going to backhand me. I braced myself against the blow...

"What's going on here?"

Maximus' booming voice startled Martius, freezing him in mid-movement. He entered the tent fully armed and wearing his brass cuirass, followed by his two fake guards, his rank and commanding attitude reducing Cassius' officers to silence. Martius let his hand fall even if he didn't release me.
All eyes focused on Maximus, the silence so absolute that it was unsettling. Then, one of the centurions cleared his throat. "We ... we came when we heard the woman's screams and we found the ... we found General Cassius and Marcellus dead, sir ..."
Maximus walked to the corpses and intently looked at them. "Bring in the surgeons!" he ordered one of the praetorians. Then he turned to his own guards. "Take General Cassius' body and place him on his bed ... his actions towards the emperor may be questionable but he was a good soldier and deserves respect". While the guards obeyed, Maximus walked towards me. I was still pressing my hands against my mouth and had started to tremble. "Tribune, release her," he ordered Martius.
"General, she was here when we arrived!" he said, painfully digging his fingers into my forearm. "We have to interrogate her! She must have seen something .... For all we know, she could have murdered Cassius herself!"

Maximus turned an icy glance to the tribune. "Of course she may have seen something and I will interrogate her," he said in a voice as cold as his eyes. Martius opened his mouth again but Maximus'guards' hands went to their swords and the flap of the tent opened again to admit two of the legion's surgeons, a man I later knew was Gallienus and a dozen cavalry men. " .... not that I think it'd be useful," continued Maximus still looking hard into Martius' eyes, "She's nothing but an hysterical woman. As for your commentary about her being the murderer of three trained soldiers ... I'll pretend I didn't hear you. Now, release her as you were ordered ... and in the future, tribune, I expect to be obeyed without delay or questioning."
Martius exchanged a desperate glance with the other officers but no one reacted or backed him, all of them more concerned about their immediate future. The tribune did as ordered and I staggered, nearly falling. No one stretched a hand to steady me. Not the officers who where exchanging concerned looks. Not the surgeons who were examining Cassius' body. Not Maximus, whose attention was fixed on the other corpses.

He crouched beside them and separated the bodies with his own hands, completely disregarding the blood that smeared his hands and boots. Gallienus moved beside him but did not crouch. Instead, he remained standing, his hand on his sword, ready to snap into action if one of Cassius' men tried to move towards his general. They didn't. They knew perfectly well that their actions had damaged their careers beyond hope and probably put their lives in danger and didn't want to worsen their situation.
"So, this is it," said Maximus emphatically after turning the praetorian's body on his back. "Marcellus attacked Cassius while he was distracted writing but this brave guard must have heard something and tried to save his general. They struggled and he managed to wound Marcellus but was wounded too."
He raised his head and looked into the eyes of the expectant men, daring them to contradict him. No one uttered a word. He stood up, and taking a piece of cloth one of the surgeons offered him, carefully cleaned his hands, his eyes never leaving the officers.
"Gallienus"
The master of the horse snapped to action. "General?"
"As the highest ranking officer not only in this camp but in the whole Northern frontier, I'm taking command of this legion."
Some of the officers gasped. Maximus continued as if he hadn't heard them.
"I do it in the name of the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius, and with the authority he gave me to act in his name. I want the guards at the gates and on the walls immediately replaced by your men."
Cassius' officers exchanged quick, frantic glances.
"Yes, sir!" answered Gallienus.
"I also want all military documents and letters in this tent and those of all the officers in this camp requisitioned, sealed in a coffer and delivered to mine. I want two of your men guarding it night and day."
Gallienus nodded and two officers rushed out. Maximus went ahead.
"Serious crimes against Rome and the emperor were committed in this place. Until I can establish what exactly happened here and who is involved, the gates are closed: no one comes in and no one gets out. I also want the stables' and the armory's guards doubled."
"Yes, sir!"
Maximus' eyes never left the faces of Cassius' officers. "The emperor is on his way here and he will decide what it is to be done. In the meantime, all officers present here or not, will remain under arrest. I suggest, gentlemen, that you don't worsen your situation by resisting."
The officers looked pale and bewildered.
"I also want the quaestors and praetors of the legion under arrest and the books confiscated. This will be all for the moment. Gallienus, you have your orders."
"Yes, sir!" Gallienus nodded again and his men rounded the officers.
"What about the whore?" snapped Martius. All glances turned to me and I cowered but not before seeing the thunderous look in Maximus' eyes as he glanced the tribune. Then he looked at me and for a brief, fleeting moment, I saw the conflicting, changing emotions dancing in his piercing blue eyes. I saw bitter anger and concern, guilt and sorrow, blazing fury and tenderness. The burning intensity of his gaze sent shivers down my spine for his was the tormented gaze of a man dealing not only with dangerous circumstances but also with his own demons. And then, it was over. He mastered his feelings once more and was all general again. Flaming anger turned into icy determination, all caring and tenderness erased from his eyes. He was all general again and I was no more the woman who had raised his concern and sorrow and tenderness but a pawn in a dangerous scheme, his ultimate goal to accomplish his mission and fulfill his duty to his emperor. I was no more the woman who had raised his passion so badly that he had nearly betrayed his wife. I was even no more Julia but simply "the whore".

The whore.

I was standing dressed only in a translucent tunic in a room full of Roman officers, a room full of men who at sometime had enjoyed me in bed, Maximus the only one who had not sullied himself. Maximus, the only one I had wanted. Maximus seeing me for what I really was.
I knew that everything -- even our lives -- depended of the charade we were playing and my part in it. I was more than ready to go ahead no matter how painful it was and would have gone ahead, would have endured everything, even Martius' blows, if not for the last, brief, fleeting emotion I saw in his dazzling, blue eyes before he took them from me. For it was the most terrible
emotion any person can see in the eyes of another, especially a woman in the eyes of the man she's fallen in love with. And it was far worse than hate, for it was pity.
Silently, I pleaded with him ... I pleaded that he did not judge me. That he did not despise me. But most of all I pleaded that he did not pity me.
"Gallienus?"
"Yes, sir?"
"This woman is under my personal protection. Have her placed in a tent near mine and post guards at the entrance. No one is to talk with her until I allow it. Not even the other women. I will interrogate her later."
"Yes, sir!"
Maximus lowered his voice but not enough for me not to hear his next words.
"And look for something to cover her before she's taken out. I don't want her putting on a spectacle for the soldiers."
Something snapped inside me.
Big, gulping, dry sobs erupted from my throat, my hands pressed to my mouth unable to muffle them, my eyes fixed on Maximus. He rushed to me, grabbed me by my shoulders and forced me to sit down. "Don't be afraid. Nobody's going to hurt you," he said softly, a warning look in his eyes. But I was beyond warning. Trembling uncontrollably, I reached for him babbling words that even I couldn't understand.
Maximus gestured to Gallienus to take Cassius' officers out of the tent, their arrest interrupted by my emotional outburst. Then, he turned towards me again.
"You're safe," he said. Warning was replaced in his eyes by alarm and only then I noticed the wild, screaming sounds I was making. I felt like my heart was going to burst, the pain in my chest so bad that I couldn't breath. I pushed Maximus and tried to stand up. I wanted to run away, to hide myself in a far, dark corner, curl into a ball and die.
"Surgeon!"
The man rushed to our side and helped Maximus force me to sit down again while I blindly struggled against both of them.
"I need to interrogate her but she's beyond herself. Can you do something?"
The surgeon looked at me dubiously. "She's but a girl, general," he said. "She's had a nasty shock."
"I know she's badly shocked," said Maximus with a touch of impatience in his voice, his eyes never leaving me. "I can interrogate her later but if she shatters she won't be a reliable witness ... Can you give her something to sooth her?"
"I can give her some opium," said the man. "It will put her to sleep and--"
"Do it."
The surgeon hesitated, then called for his assistant and gave his orders. "Are you sure you want her put down, General?" he asked Maximus. "She'll feel poorly when she awakens. You must know she'll be less than coherent."
Maximus nodded. "I'm a lot more worried about her damaging herself." The assistant had returned with a cup of something that looked like milk and gave it to the surgeon. "Please, General, move aside and let my assistant hold her while I make her drink this," he indicated. A strange smell drifted from the cup to my nostrils and I struggled even harder against the two men.
"I'll hold her myself," said Maximus. The surgeon looked at him quizzically and Maximus added, "She's badly scared. I don't want her to go through more manhandling and harassment."

The surgeon looked at me, then again at Maximus and nodded, gesturing his assistant away. He raised the cup to my lips and I averted my face only to find Maximus' very close to mine. I looked into his eyes and felt my heart swell painfully, for they were blazing with a fiercely protective gaze. This did it. I stopped struggling and sagged against him. Tentatively, Maximus eased his hold and I rested my head on his shoulder. The surgeon looked at us for a moment, then brought the cup to my lips. I closed my eyes and drank.

I was immersed in darkness, a hot, throbbing darkness that seemed to have engulfed both me and the surrounding world. I heard some muffled sounds but couldn't distinguish them. The darkness was so deep that it was suffocating. I tried to move but my body seemed to have drifted away from my mind. Little by little, the darkness was replaced by a blazing crimson, the colour so intense that it hurt my eyes even if they were closed. Again I heard the muffled, anguished sounds and then I realized I was moaning. Darkness receded but the throbbing remained, only now it was inside my head and not around me. Panting, I struggled against my body's decision to surface but I lost.

When I finally could open my eyes, it was to find Rufa looking at me. Vaguely I noticed that her round, big eyes didn't show the scared look that was usual in her but the curious look of a child intrigued by something mysterious and fascinating. My pounding headache was only surpassed by an agonizing thirst. I tried to speak, to ask her for some water but my parched lips refused to articulate any word. I was so dazzled, so confused, so weak!
"Mistress Julia?"
Her voice drummed in my fogged brain. I winced and tried again to speak but couldn't. I saw a jug on the table near the couch and vaguely gestured to her to give me some water but the girl didn't pay attention.
"I have to call," she said in her hesitating, guttural Latin. "General said when you awoke I was to call". This said, Rufa rushed out, leaving me alone with my pounding head and sore, parched throat.

Slowly, painfully I raised my head and looked around. I was in a tent which seemed vaguely familiar yet I couldn't remember how I had arrived to it. I was lying on a couch, covered with a light blanket and somebody -- probably the surgeon -had loosened my tunic by taking off the sash. My head reeled and I let it fall down, closing my eyes.
I first heard footsteps, then movement close to me. I opened my eyes to see Rufa had returned followed by Maximus. "Leave us," he said softly to the girl and when she had gone, he took a stool and sat down by my side.
"Julia?" he asked. "How do you feel?"
I swallowed hard, then sighed my head pounding relentlessly.
"Julia?"
Weakly, I tried to smile, then gestured to indicate that I wanted some water and Maximus poured some in cup while I struggled to sit up right. He put the cup in my hands and closed my fingers around it, his eyes darkened with concern. I brought the cup to my lips but my hands trembled so badly that I couldn't drink and instead poured some water over myself, soaking the front
of my tunic and plastering the translucent sea green silk over my breasts. Disgusted with myself, I couldn't avoid a sob.
Swearing softly, Maximus sat on the couch and gathered me into his arms, bringing the cup to my lips and holding it as I drank greedily. When it was empty, I rested my head on his shoulder and murmured "Thanks ..." before my mind drifted again.
Maximus laid me on the couch and returned to the stool where he remained silently looking at me until I could gather enough strength to open my eyes again.
"What happened?" I whispered.
"Things are under control but we are under permanent alert and will be till the emperor arrives," he said. "The main problem is that I have very few men here and I don't know how long will it take the emperor to arrive. I have all the officers under arrest but I still have to determine if there are other traitors among the men. The danger is not over."
I nodded and he went on talking.
"Julia, I'm sorry about the drug but I had to do it. I know you've been through much but I couldn't risk you saying something that could compromise my plans, do you understand?"
I sighed and nodded again, not sure if I could master my own voice.
"You have been very brave and I couldn't have accomplished my mission without your help, Julia. Buy I need you to be strong and help me some more." He looked into my eyes as if to asses if I was following him. "You are in Marcellus' tent. It's in the praetorium and close to mine. There are two guards outside and they have been ordered not to allow anybody to get in or talk to you but me. I'm supposed to interrogate you and then keep you under my protection till the emperor arrives and decides what will be done."
My eyes must have shown alarm for he smiled wanly and added, "You have nothing to worry about. When Marcus Aurelius arrives, I'll talk to him privately and everything will be settled. Cassius died as a traitor so according to the law his estates and possessions are to be confiscated by the emperor. But Marcus Aurelius is a compassionate man and will set you and the other women free." He moved his hand as if to brush my hair off my face but restrained and, after a brief hesitation, went on talking.
"I need you to remain here, under custody, till the emperor comes with reinforcements. It's going to be hard for you, Julia, for you will be isolated but it's necessary. I will release you as soon as possible. It's for your own safety as well as my men's... and mine."
I managed a wan smile and nodded again.
"You need to rest, Julia, and I have a lot of things to take care of," he said softly. "I'll leave you now. Sleep. You'll feel better in the morning. I'll send your maid in and if you need anything, send her to me." He looked at my disheveled state and added, "I'll have your maid bring you some clothes."
Then, he stood up and briskly walked towards the entrance.
Somehow I found the strength to call him. "Maximus!"
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"Maximus, would you do something for me?"
He slowly turned on his heels and looked at me warily, not moving from his place near the entrance, waiting for me to talk and probably fearing what I was going to say.
"Would you hold me, please?" I said in the little voice of the scared girl who still lived inside the grown up woman and the seasoned whore. "Would you hold me really tight?"
He opened his mouth to voice a protest or a denial but refrained. Then, he smiled wanly and came back to me, sitting again on the couch by my side and trying to gather me in his arms. But he was wearing his cuirass and I refused to lean against its cold hardness for what I was asking for was the warm strength of his body.
Our gazes locked, mine pleading, his confused.
"Please..." I murmured.
Swearing beneath his breath, Maximus stood up again and fumbled with the buckles of his cuirass. It was not an easy task to accomplish without help and I saw him impatiently struggle with them until he finally could get it off, dumping it on the floor where it landed with a muffled sound.
He sat back again on the couch but before he could take me in his arms I crawled from under the blanket and onto his lap, my breasts nearly spilling from my loosened tunic, which bunched up my thighs. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I buried my face in his neck. I felt him stiffen, I knew it was more than he had bargained for ... and I knew that if he pushed me away I was going to die of loneliness and heartbreak.
But little by little Maximus relaxed and his strong arms came around me. Whimpering, I snuggled closer to him, breathing his musky, male scent, his body heat enveloping me like a warm cloak. I closed my eyes and sighed in abandon when I felt his fingers first arranging my tunic and covering my bare legs, then caressing my hair.

I don't know how long I remained like this, lulled by his warmth and strength.
But suddenly I was not simply snuggling against him. My hands roamed up and down his broad back, tracing the well defined muscles under the light wool of the wine-red tunic. I kissed his neck, the stubble of his beard erotically rasping my lips while I pressed my breasts against him, desperate to feel his body against mine.
I heard him gasp and uncomfortably shift under my thighs, trying to avoid the contact between our most intimate flesh. I was naked under the foamy silk tunic, naked in his arms and my skin felt feverish as it had never felt before. I wanted to straddle him, to wrap myself around him, to take him inside me as deeply as I could. My lips and tongue caressed his neck, then his throat and my hands came down his back, searching for his firm, rounded buttocks. I was drunk in his heat and strength and scent. I felt alive, desperately, painfully alive. I burned with the primal need to couple, to have him claim me as males have claimed their mates since the dawn of time and spill his seed inside me in a white hot rush. I moaned, bunching his tunic in my hands ...

Maximus' whole body became rigid, his hands painfully gripping my arms, his tense muscles creating a cold, forbidding distance between us even if our bodies were hot and touching. I tensed myself and we remained like this for a long moment, like two statues frozen in a lifeless parody of loving intimacy.
Then, I sagged against him in defeat. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, silently begging him to let me remain in his arms. Slowly, very slowly he relaxed again and I sighed, ready to submit to what little he'd give me rather than to loose his warmth.
Maximus sighed too, a long, tired sigh. Then, I felt his fingers caress my hair again and my tears silently started to flow.
"Maximus?" I asked. Again my voice sounded like that of the scared little girl who had grown up in Cassius' villa, the scared little girl who had neither known her mother nor had a doll, the scared little girl who had grown up to become a beautiful, lonely, sad whore.
"Yes, Julia?" he asked in his deep, rumbling voice.
"Will you teach me, Maximus?"
"Teach you what, Julia?" He sounded puzzled.
"How to swim," I felt so tired, so desperately tired. Somehow I managed to go on talking. "You know, Maximus? I'm scared of water. I'm scared of drowning." Absently, my fingers tugged at his tunic. "I don't like being scared, Maximus. I don't want to be scared anymore... Will you teach me how to swim?"
"Yes, Julia. I will teach you how to swim," he said softly and I felt his light, tender kiss on the top of my head, filling me with sweetness despite sadness and exhaustion and defeat. I struggled to raise my head, I needed to look into his beautiful blue eyes once more ... but my head seemed to weigh too much. I fell asleep.

One of the few, small mercies the gods have blessed me with is the fact that, when I sleep, I usually don't dream. That is good because it means that I don't have nightmares. For if I'd have them, they'd be so terrifying that I'd have happily submitted to drowning a long time ago.

But that night, asleep in Maximus' arms, I dreamed. In my dream I was not the frightened Julia who had begged him not to leave her alone but a proud, strong woman. I was older and I wore not a translucent silk tunic but a light wool, decent stolla. I was sitting on a wooden bench, in the garden of a country estate like I had never seen before for it was not a lavish villa like Cassius' but a simple and comfortable provincial house. My hair was coiled as it befitted a respectable and free woman and I looked around in wonder at the wild beauty of the garden and the surrounding hills. But my attention was dragged to what was happening inside my body, for my breasts felt heavy and full and a sweet, nice warmth radiated from my middle. I turned my eyes down to see my rounded belly, swollen and distended as Eugenia's had been years before. My hands caressed it lovingly and then I pressed it as she had taught me to do and I felt the baby inside it gently roll and kick in answer. I hugged myself but I didn't do it in loneliness and desperation as I used to do but in loving, sweet contentment.
Then, the scene changed as they only change in dreams. I was in the same garden, not sitting on the bench but standing beside the road, my body slender again, my arms cradling a baby girl. She was so small yet so beautifully perfect, her creamy skin identical to mine. But she had not my red-gold hair for hers was soft and black like her father's. The baby yawned with the wild abandon only babies can master and brought her small fists to her perfect, rosebud mouth. Then, she opened her eyes and looked at me and her eyes were blue, not dark blue like mine but the greenish, sparkling, unique blue of the man who had sired her.

I raised my eyes from the living wonder that was my daughter and I saw him. He was coming to me, walking up the road with his easy, self-assured stride, his broad shoulders proudly erect, covered with his cape and the silvery wolf furs that proclaimed his high office. He was wearing his battle-worn muscled cuirass and his sword dangled at his side, a seasoned warrior coming back home, coming back to his woman and the daughter she had given him.

Maximus stopped only two or three steps from me and I raised my arms, offering him the little, fragile treasure we had created between us and I saw his big, strong, sword-callused hands tenderly take her and claim her as his. He smiled at me, his beautiful, boyish, sweet smile and I smiled back and we embraced, gently cradling our daughter between us. I rested my head on his shoulder and he wrapped one of his arms around me, lovingly pressing me against his strong, warm body. And during this wonderful, unique moment, the three of us were one, as one we had been in the wonderful, unique moment when we had conceived our daughter. And I, Julia, the slave and the whore, came to know what it was to feel truly loved and happy and complete.

I was drowning but this time it was sweet and beautiful, for I was drowning not in tears and sorrow but in love and happiness. I moaned and tried to hug Maximus closer to me... but my arm caught nothing but emptiness. The dream started to vanish. Terrified, I struggled against consciousness, against loneliness, against reality...
I lost.
Slowly, painfully I opened my eyes. I was not in a country garden but in Marcellus' tent. There was no baby, no warmth, no love, no happiness... no Maximus. I was alone, utterly alone as he had left me while I slept.
I closed my eyes to avoid the pink rays of dawn, buried my face in the cushion he had put under my head and for the last time in my life, I wept.

Seventh Entry - Gladiator Stories - Julia's Journal, Part 1 - Julia's Journal, Part 2 - Ninth Entry