Eleventh Entry - Departure: "Will I ever see you again?"

Dawn came as dawn always comes, be it to bring us joy or a death sentence. As the emperor had told me, Cornelius Crassus came to Marcellus' tent when it was still dark.
"Domina," he said, slightly bowing his head. I flinched at being addressed by the respectful title, then reminded myself that the respectful title was the appropriate one for the woman I had become because of the document packed in my trunk. I nodded in answer while I tried to measure the man standing in front of me. Cornelius Crassus was a thin, wiry man, half a head shorter than me with thick, dark auburn hair and mossy green eyes. I sighed, knowing from experience that short men have a tendency to bad temper and most of them badly resent women who are taller than them, especially if they are slender like me. He stood proudly erect, as it befits a Roman soldier, his shining helmet under his arm, his leather cuirass and military leather kilt neatly
oiled and polished.

"We will be departing in a hour, Domina," he said in a curiously quiet voice. "Am I right if I suppose that you've already packed?"
"It is done," I answered in an equally quiet voice, too spent to rebel against my fate and the will of a man who wanted me yet refused to have me. A man who had also refused the imperial daughter and would soon depart for home and a wife he loved.
I'd come back to Marcellus' tent from my meeting with the emperor only to find there a young man who was in his service. He was quickly followed by other two bringing in my trunks from the slaves' quarters. The man, who identified himself as Romulus, told me that he had been ordered to supervise the preparations of the women who'd travel with the legion to Rome. He instructed both me and Rufa to get what belongings we kept in the tent, pack them and be ready to travel at dawn. We needn't worry about the food supplies, he said, for the legions quaestor would take care of everything. And the quaestor standing in front of me seemed quite capable of managing both petty and important affairs.

"Domina," he said, "I've been told that you're the slaves' leader," he said in his curiously quiet voice.
I shrugged. Leadership and the ability to thrust a piece of iron in another being's flesh are both the most appreciated skills in Roman culture. How ironic that Maximus had risen from his humble, provincial origins thanks to them and that I had gotten my freedom and wealth through them too!
At the mere thought, I felt like laughing but Cornelius Crassus frowned. That, and the knowledge that if I started to laugh I'd go mad, prevented me from doing so. I shrugged again. "Yes, for the lack of a better word, you may say that I am their ... leader," I said.
"Domina, the journey to Rome will be long and tedious, even for the legion. Women are not used to the rigors of the roads and also can become a problem. A serious problem."
It was my turn to frown.
What was the man talking about?
He went ahead.
"What I mean, Domina, is that women may be a distraction for the soldiers and even the officers. I have seen them, Domina. They are young and beautiful." His Latin had a quality of insulting purity and was more adequate for the floor of the senate than the army. Then I remembered myself that he was a quaestor, the office frequently reserved for those sons of the high-ranking families with sharp minds but no love for war. They served the required years dealing with the legion's accounts and logistics till they were of age for the senatorial toga. I could easily imagine the short man standing in front of me wearing the pristine folds of the purple striped toga with the same ease as Maximus carried his battle worn brass cuirass.

Maximus.

His name was like a stab in my heart, the echoes of my conversation with the emperor still in my mind. But Cornelius Crassus was talking, his mind focused on his duty and I was forced to pay attention again to the annoying, little man, even if I only wanted to be left alone with my broken, bleeding heart.
"There is also the problem of the slave girls. They are very young, mere children and the emperor has ordered the legion to go to Rome as quickly as possible so it won't be possible to take them with us. They will remain with the emperor and return later." As he talked, Cornelius Crassus looked at Rufa, who was glaring at us with her big, round, always frightened eyes. The quaestor looked back at me. "Is this girl your personal maid?" I nodded again, not wanting to talk if I could avoid it. "Then, she'll be coming with us. I've been ordered to deliver her to the imperial palace. She can serve you during the journey but the other women will have to fend for themselves."

I heard Rufa's gasp and turned around to reassure her that everything was alright. Then, I angrily faced the pompous quaestor. "Deliver? Did you say deliver?" I asked him in a cold, hard voice. The man flinched. "She's to be given to the Lady Lucilla ...," he started but I interrupted him. "The emperor offered to take care of my maid for I cannot do it personally and agreed to entrust her to his daughter, for she is worthy of serving her and her son -- agreed?" I said flatly. The quaestor held my gaze, then nodded slightly and went on talking, his face unreadable. He could have been handsome if he had not taken himself soseriously or at least relaxed a little.

"I've ordered three caravans to transport you and the other women with speed and as much comfort as possible," he said. "As you're my personal charge, you and your maid can have the smaller one for yourselves alone. The other women will have toshare the other two."
"I don't want to travel in a caravan," I snapped.
Cornelius Crassus frowned again and then added with a touch of impatience in his cultured voice, "Domina, how do you intend to travel to Rome? On foot?"
His patronizing attitude did it. I squared my shoulders, ready to fight. He was neither Maximus nor Marcus Aurelius. "No, quaestor," I said. "On horseback."
He gasped. "Domina, you can't be serious!" Despite his efforts, Cornelius Crassus was loosing his composure and I bitterly enjoyed his obvious confusion.
"How do you think I came here? Flying?" I demanded. "I don't want to travel in a caravan for I'm not a piece of merchandise. Not anymore. I want a horse. And a good, spirited one for I'm as good a rider as you ... or perhaps even better. Quaestors don't do a lot of soldiering, do they?"

I was not bragging. I was a good rider and I still am. Cassius himself taught me how to ride when I was still a little girl, long before sending me to the senator's bed. He liked to ride around the country surrounding his villa and used to take some of his girls with him. Riding is probably the only pleasant, innocent skill I learned under his mastery and nowadays I still like to ride.
Sometimes I go riding with Apollinarius but mostly I ride alone, my husband unable to come with me.
When riding alone, I like to set my horse on a gallop on the beach, the wind singing in my ears, the waves gently splashing both my horse and me. And when I ride, I can easily lose myself and become one with the wind and the sea and even sometimes forget. Forget that I was born a slave. Forget that I lived most of my life as a whore. Forget that the scared little girl still lives inside me despite the twists of fate. Forget that despite freedom and wealth and marriage I still feel as lonely as I have always felt. What not even riding and the sea and the wind can make me forget is that I love Maximus, that I long for him, ache for him ... and I always will.

Mercifully silent, Cornelius Crassus looked at me for a long moment then nodded again, the stiffness of his gesture a clear sign of his raising disappointment with his "personal charge" as he had called me. "I will give orders that a horse be prepared for you--"
I interrupted him again. "Order four horses, quaestor. There are other women in the slaves quarters who can ride and will enjoy the opportunity to do so." Even if the presence of Aelia, Ariadna and Eugenia would force me to endure their incessant, childish chattering during the long march, I had no heart to confine them to the wagons, knowing as I knew that they would enjoy the freedom of the dusty road.

Cornelius Crassus was not happy with my demand. Not happy at all.

"Domina, having to bring fourteen women along with the legion is problem enough. Having four of them riding among the soldiers could be a threat to the legion's discipline! If you insist on having them riding instead of traveling in the wagon, I will require your help to keep them apart from the soldiers and officers, Domina, even if you are my personal charge." I arched my eyebrows as Cornelius Crassus went on. "I will not tolerate breaches in the discipline of the army and you must help prevent the women from becoming a source of distress. I will not tolerate them consorting with the soldiers or the officers."
"Why? Because they were born slaves and used as whores all their lives?" Only when I heard my words did I notice that I had voiced them. And that my tone was hard and bitter. Cornelius Crassus flinched, obviously not used to being questioned. Specially by a woman. He recovered quickly but I was quicker.
"Have you ever been to a brothel, quaestor?" I asked in a cold, hard voice. He was taken aback. Surely the high ranking women he was used to talking to did not know anything about brothels and whoring.
"You like women, don't you? Or is it that you don't like to share and prefer to keep a secret mistress?"
Cornelius Crassus blushed furiously and was clearly at a loss of words. I pushed him. "You didn't answer, quaestor. Have you ever been to a brothel?"

He composed his face and answered, "Yes, Domina. I have been to a brothel."
"Good," I said briefly asking myself why I was doing this, why was I bringing my anger and bitterness on this man whom I had nothing to blame for but being narrow minded, no matter how much Marcus Aurelius trusted him. But I couldn't, wouldn't, stop myself. "And I suppose you went to a lavish one and enjoyed yourself a lot, then returned home and went to sleep without a second thought for those women who serviced you and many others. You never gave a thought to those women who endure humiliation, degrading acts, even being seriously hurt for the sport of others like you. And they endured all of these day after day and night after night. Those women in the slaves' quarters were born in a brothel, quaestor! A private brothel. They have known no other life but humiliation, degradation and pain. I seriously doubt if they will ever want to bed another man in their lives, least of them Roman soldiers!"

I didn't add that I had been born in the same brothel, endured the same kind of life and would never, ever bed another man. Only Maximus. If he'd have me. It was not Cornelius Crassus or any other one's business.

Cornelius Crassus remained silent for a long time, holding my angry gaze, looking at me as if he were looking at a strange, exotic, fascinating beast like those paraded in the Roman triumphs or slaughtered in the great arena. Then, his mossy green eyes warmed little by little, his features softened and he respectfully bowed his head.
"Accept my apologize, Domina", he said and his voice was not only quiet and educated but his tone sincere. "I've been extremely rude. Even if it's no excuse, please understand that I've spent the last three years in the frontiers, dealing only with soldiers," he smiled a little, shy smile. "It seems that I have completely forgotten my manners."
I sighed, only wanting to put an end to the annoying meeting with the man in charge of taking me to Rome. "Your apologize is accepted, quaestor."
"Thank you, Domina. I will have the horses ordered. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No, quaestor, thank you. Just leave me alone till its time for departure."
He remained looking at me, as if he were lost in his own, private thoughts. Then, he bowed and turned to go out. But he stopped at the entrance of the tent and turned to face me.
I held his gaze for a long moment.
Then, he smiled and said, "I should have known the emperor was right ... He always is."
I looked at him quizzically.
"He said you were not only beautiful but also smart and brave ... brave enough to help save the empire."
"Does it bother you, quaestor?" I asked.
His smile broadened. "No, Domina. It doesn't bother me in the least. And my name is Cornelius. Cornelius Crassus." He bowed respectfully, turned on his heels and left the tent.

"Mistress Julia?"
Rufa's voice forced me to turn my attention to her.
"Yes, little one?" I asked wearily.
"Mistress Julia, we going?" she asked in her guttural, halting Latin, her tone as anguished as her dark, concerned face.
"Yes, Rufa. We're going to Rome."
"Don't want!" the girl cried. I flinched. I had never, ever heard Rufa voice a protest or cry.
"Little One--," I started but she refused to hear me, clearly beyond herself with fear.
"Mistress Julia, don't want go! Don't want go!"
I gripped the girls shoulders and shook her slightly. "Rufa, listen to me!" Big, fat tears rolled down the ebony cheeks. Her pouty, scarred mouth trembled in anguish. I took the girl's hand and sat on the couch, forcing her to sit by my side. "Listen to me, Rufa. As I explained you, we ... the other women and me have been freed by the emperor. You and the other girls are too young to be freed and left by yourselves. So you will be put in the households of the emperor's relatives."
Rufa sobbed and I felt my heart ache. She had been at my service for the last two years and I had never been able to obtain anything from her but obedience, guttural, spare answers and the ordered services. Seeing her so distressed and tearful was unexpected. And painful.
"Rufa," I went on. "You will be placed at the emperor's daughters service. The... the Lady Lucilla is a beautiful woman and also the highest ranking one in the empire. Serving her and her little son is a great honor. She will be a good mistress ... you must serve her well."
I felt my own tears strangling my throat at the mention of the powerful, beautiful woman who loved Maximus. Yet, I had no right to blame her for she had been denied him first and then being offered to him and rejected. She had been born in the imperial palace and I at the slaves' quarters, yet we had more in common than Marcus Aurelius had admitted. For it was not strength and courage what made us equals but our love for the same man ... and his rejection.
Rufa was noisily sobbing, weeping like the child she was.
"Wanna go with you, Mistress Julia!" cried the poor girl. "Go with you!"
Taking Rufa in my arms, I hugged her tightly and the girl buried her face in my bosom. She trembled and I rocked her, trying to soothe her, whispering words of encouragement till she quieted. I caressed her riotus black curls. How could I explain to a ten-years-old girl who had been the lowly servant of a seasoned whore that from now on she'd serve a former empress and a
possible future emperor?
"Listen to me, Little One. I cannot keep you with me but the emperor is a good man and has agreed to place you with his beloved daughter and grandson," I said while I went on caressing her hair. "You have been a very, very good servant and I'm proud of you. You must serve the Lady Lucilla well."

Rufa raised her face and looked at me not with frightened eyes but with innocent, hopeful ones. "You go with General and take me. Why not go with General?" she asked and I felt as if salt had been rubbed over my bleeding heart. "It's not possible, little one," I said forcing myself to remember that the girl was too young to understand what was in the hearts of men and women even if at her tender age she had heard and seen more than many a woman hears or sees in her entire life.
Desperately, I looked for something that would comfort her and ease her anguish. Then, I remembered the emperor's ring, well hidden in my sash.
"Rufa," I said in a low voice, "Listen to me. I will tell you a secret. A very important one you must not repeat, no matter what happens."
She was but a little girl and that caught her attention.
"There is a reason why you must go to the Lady Lucilla and her son. The emperor needs someone to take care of them, for he spends a lot of time far away and is worried about his daughter and grandson."
The girl's eyes widened in surprise.
"He needs you to be close to Master Lucius and take care of him while he grows up. The emperor does not trust his other slaves and servants for he wants someone who really cares for the boy and someone Master Lucius can trust. Will you do this for the emperor? Will you take care of his grandson?"
Rufa looked puzzled. Then, her face brightened. She nodded vigorously. "I take care," she said with conviction.
"Good," I said and, up to this day I don't know why, I added, "Rufa, some day I may need your help too. Some day I may need you to give an important, secret message to the Lady Lucilla or her son. The Lady Lucilla knows about the message. But if something happens to her, you must tell Master Lucius that some day someone you and his grandfather knew may send him a very important message through you and that the emperor expects him to honor a debt he swore to pay. Will you do it? Will you tell him? And, if the time comes, will you help me and deliver it?"
"Yes, Mistress Julia. I will."
"You must not tell this to any other person but Master Lucius. It will be our secret. Only you, the emperor, the Lady Lucilla and I know about it, Rufa."
The girl nodded her understanding.
"Then, it's settled. We will go to Rome together and once there you will go to the imperial palace and settle with your new masters."
Rufa nodded again. Then she smiled, the first time I ever saw her smile. I couldn't but smile her back, even if my heart was broken and the time was running out, the first rays of sun indicating that the departure was imminent.
"Mistress Julia?"
"Yes, Little One?"
She gazed innocently at me. "Who take care of you when I gone? General?"
My sight blurred, my throat tightened, my heart ached as if it was going to burst. But I forced myself to smile again and answer a ten-year-old girl's question. "Yes, Rufa. He will take care of me."
Before she could speak again, I gathered her in my arms and buried my face in her ebony curls.

"Domina, it is time."
Cornelius Crassus' voice brought me back from my private thoughts. I stood up and slowly walked to the entrance of the tent. The quaestor moved aside to allow me to get out, then followed me across the praetorium's yard. The horses were ready and Aelia, Eugenia and Ariadna were already there and sitting atop their mounts, excitedly chattering and giggling. They turned around to look at me and offered me their broad, happy smiles but my somber, tight face forced them to silence.

Cornelius Crassus helped me mount, the horse I'd been given -- a beautiful, strong one, its glossy, coppery coat and golden mane and tail shinning under the first rays of dawn. It snorted gently as I sat on its broad back and I absently patted its strong, warm neck.
From my perch atop the horse I saw that everything was ready for departure, the banners gently moving in the breeze, the golden eagles shining, the soldiers in formation, the long train of baggage and supplies stretching behind us.
At the sound of footsteps I turned around and found myself looking down at Maximus. Despite that it was a warm day, he was dressed in his full general's uniform, the dark ribbon artfully tied over his leather cuirass proclaiming his high rank, his cape undulating around his strong, muscular body, the silvery wolf furs dangling from his broad shoulders. It was the first time that I had seen him up close in full uniform.
He was magnificent.

My hands tightly clasped the reigns as we remained silently looking at each other for a long, painful moment. His blue eyes were soft and warm yet they were unreadable, his emotions well guarded.
The silence stretched unbearably, my heart pounding wildly, my throat tight with anguish and unshed tears. "Will I ever see you again?" I asked, even if I knew the answer. Why did I insist in hurting myself?
"No," came the simple, expected answer. Even if it was expected, it hurt badly. Or perhaps I should say that it would have hurt badly if my heart had not been so numb with pain.
But Maximus' voice had been soft and kind and even if I didn't know how I managed to do it, I smiled at him. "I didn't think so," I said quietly.
He returned my smile with his sweet, boyish one. "You'll be busy establishing your new life."
A new life?
Oh, yes. I was young. I was free. I was no more a whore. I was wealthy enough to buy myself fake documents to erase my past. And hidden in my sash I kept the emperor's ring, the family seal of the most powerful man in the world, the symbol of a debt owed to the woman who helped save the empire and had saved Rome's most important general's life. Yet I had nothing and my new life ahead was but loneliness and pain for there was no wealth or power in the world which could give me the only thing I wanted: the love of the magnificent man quietly standing by my side.

Looking again at his striking, blue eyes I thought briefly that if Maximus had taken me at least once, I'd have the hope that his seed had rooted in my womb and in due time the dark haired baby girl I had cradled in my dream would be born, a flesh and blood link between me and her father no matter how much he refused to have me again. And even if it hadn't, at least I would have had that hope to keep me going ahead for some weeks... and when it was over, there'd be still the memory of his body to warm my bed as no man would ever warm it.

But he had refused me and what little I had then to offer, stubbornly denying himself the possibility of being loved by a woman who was neither his wife nor the emperor's daughter but loved him as much as it's possible to love someone.
Maximus touched my foot, once again as if his hand had a will of its own, his callused fingers lightly caressing my skin between the leather strips of my sandal. "You're sure you wouldn't rather travel in the caravan?"
I shook my head, the early morning sun kissing the rows upon rows of white canvass tents and making the brass of the shields and armors shine. I sighed. "No, it feels too confining and I've had enough of being confined."
Maximus nodded to indicate his understanding. But, what could a man who has known nothing but freedom understand when it came to being a woman and a slave? What could this proud, commanding man understand about the degrading subjugation I have endured all my life?

Yet, he was looking at me with a gentle, warm gaze and I had to restrain myself from bowing and caressing his short cropped hair and softly bearded cheek. I hesitated, then said, "You don't need to worry, Maximus. I won't tell anyone that I personally know the great Roman general."
A frown puckered his brow. "Why should that worry me?"
He was a fierce warrior, an army leader beloved both by his men and his emperor. Yet he was so naive when it came to certain things! I averted my face and stared at a point outside the camp gate, anything to avoid having to look at him while I acknowledged my own shame and my determination not to sully him with it "I don't want to embarrass you."
"Julia." Maximus shook my foot. I refused to look at him and he shook it again, his fingers digging in my flesh. "Julia, look at me."
I did so reluctantly, fighting the burning tears I felt glistening in my eyes.
"I am proud to know a woman of such character, strength and intelligence. What Cassius did to you was beyond your control. If you had fought him he would have killed you. You know that."

My heart swelled painfully. Maximus! Oh, Maximus! So strong and virile yet so gentle and sweet! Even if he couldn't love me, even if he wouldn't take me, he still cared for me and tried to protect me... his comfort and protection the only warmth I have known in my life! I felt like throwing myself on my knees as I had done in front of Marcus Aurelius. I felt like wrapping my arms around his legs and pleading with him not to send me away, to let me stay with him and drink in his goodness and compassion.

But I knew there was no hope for he'd soon led his gleaming black stallion down the same road on his way home to Spain and his wife and instead of pleading, I steeled myself, nodded and drew an unsteady breath then looked into the distance again. "I wish you a very long and happy life, Maximus."
"You too," he said, his deep, rumbling voice sending shivers down my spine. He nodded at the praetorian who was standing at attention nearby and the man shouted the order to proceed. Maximus stepped back as my horse started to move. I heard him salute Aelia, Ariadna and Eugenia as I crossed the camp's doors. I longed to look back, to look at him once more but I forced myself to go ahead, my eyes fixed in the horizon, my back straight. For I knew that, if I turned, I'd throw myself from my mount and run to him, imploring him to keep me as desperately as I had implored the emperor to give me to him the night before. But I also knew that, if I did it, I'd be rejected as I'd been rejected the night before and I wouldn't survive another rejection.

Sighing, I raised my head and looked at the sky, the sun gently warming my flesh even if it couldn't warm my heart. I heard the birds singing in the branches. A blue butterfly danced in the air in front of me. A squirrel darted from brush to brush chattering excitedly. The road stretched ahead, a road built decades ago by generation after generation of Roman soldiers, soldiers so alike the ones who marched in front of me and behind me. Life went on with the magnificent indifference with which it always goes on, be it to mercifully erase the scars left by war or to sweep away fleeting human joy.
And suddenly, I knew it. I knew that I'd survive, that I'd go ahead, that I'd go on living for I was strong as the emperor had said I was, the woman who had helped save an empire and also saved Rome's most powerful general's life. And even if Maximus had rejected me, he couldn't forbid my love for him and I'd love him forever.
"Will I ever see you again?"
"No."
My words and Maximus' answer echoed in my mind. But this time they did not hurt. At least not so badly. I smiled and my smile was neither fake nor bitter even if it was sad.

"No, General," I whispered. "You're wrong. I will see you again. Oh, yes... I will."