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Robin
Roberts
2001
You Have to Decide…
Lucilla studied the knife in her hands, and her thoughts were clear: the nightmare had to end somehow, because she could not take this any more. A knife seemed as good a choice as any, and that night seemed to be the most convenient time. She took a deep and shaky breath, finding courage within herself to end it all. Suicide was never an easy thing, even though she had contemplated this option before now. Grief lined her face as finalized her decision and the blade rose.
“Don’t do it,” Maximus whispered. He could barely form the words, he was so afraid… He had stood there watching her, praying that Lucilla would change her mind by herself, in fear of even saying a word, and so ashamed to speak to her at all, until there was no other way. He had done so much wrong…yet he had to do this one right.
The princess gasped and spun toward him in surprise, then resolve hardened in her eyes. In a flash of silver, the dagger regained motion, but Maximus stepped forward to grab her wrists and to pull it away in time. “Don’t,” he pleaded.
Not looking in his eyes, Lucilla struggled against him, and asked the floor, “Why not?”
“Please,” Maximus whispered.
Trying to pull away, Lucilla grew even angrier as he held her tightly, and asked bitterly, “What right do you have to ask me to live?”
Had a hammer smashed what little remained of his heart, more damage could not have been done. Maximus’ throat constricted painfully at the simple truth; indeed, what right did he have to ask that: he, whose actions had all but killed her already? But then there were so many reasons, still so much in this otherwise cold and cruel world… He could not bear to see her give up. Life could not always be as such, and there had to be something he could do or say to change her mind. Finally, though, Maximus settled for a half-truth. “It isn’t worth it,” he said quietly.
Again, she tried to pull away; Maximus held her firmly but gently, not letting the hurt princess escape. She shook her head violently in reply, her loose golden curls almost touching the general’s chest because they were standing so close. “You do not know what my life has become,” Lucilla snapped.
“Yes, I do,” Maximus replied tenderly, throwing his broken heart on the line and caution to the wind; if there was no other way to stop this, he would bare his own wrecked soul. His only response, however, was her disbelieving snort.
Fear warred with love for but a moment in his mind; this was worth the risk, any risk. Now, though, he was jeopardizing far more than her life, because he was endangering everything he had ever held dear, especially her love. Now he had to betray himself, and tell the truth he had never wanted to even consider speaking of. But Lucilla deserved to know. Even though she would hate him in the end, perhaps he could still save her live. And then he would have at least done the right thing, and he would be able to live knowing that she did, no matter how gaping the hole inside his heart would become.
“Lucilla,” he said quietly. “Lucilla, look at me.” When she still did not raise her head, he did so for her, gently lifting the princess’ chin with his fingertips. Finally, her tear filled eyes searched his face for answers. “Do you see the bruises on my face?”
She nodded quietly, the anger gone, and now much like a frightened and hurt child. In so many ways, Maximus knew how she felt, so he continued before he lost the courage to do so. “Your brother and his men did this to me,” he explained, “when I tried to fight them.”
Confused, since she had heard him say repeatedly that he served Commodus, Lucilla wondered, “Fight them?”
The general nodded and quickly blinked emotion back. Slowly letting a breath out to steady himself, he went on. “I fought them because I did not…” Maximus swallowed, and the words came hard as he relived every horrid moment of the past. “I did not want to watch you be hurt.”
Her blue eyes locked on his. “What do you mean, Maximus?” Lucilla whispered, and suddenly, he had to pull away, unable to bear touching the woman he had hurt so much. But now she grabbed his hand, casting the dagger away along with any chance he’d had for her love. Still, though, he spoke, the words coming in a rush even as her touch sent waves of remorse through his soul.
“After I was captured, Commodus had me tortured,” the general said quietly. “Then he came, and demanded that I serve him. I said no… But then he threatened you-”
Maximus closed his eyes against the old pain, and did not dare look at her. He resumed the story quickly though, afraid he would lose the courage to tell it all. “I could not refuse…so I gave him my loyalty. But I made a mistake,” his voice cracked, and he swallowed once again, struggling for control. “And he made me watch what he did to you.
“He did that because of me,” Maximus whispered.
Stunned silence was her only answer, and the general could not bear to look at her and see the inevitable hatred in her eyes. What Commodus had done tore her apart; what would Lucilla’s reaction be now that she knew it was his fault, that he caused her all that pain? More importantly, though: would it drive her to do what he was trying so desperately to stop? Finally, she spoke.
“The second time was because you refused to murder that boy, wasn’t it?”
Those were not exactly the words he’d expected, and he ventured a glance at her face, which, somehow, was not yet angry. “Yes,” Maximus whispered, at last looking her in the eye for one brief, last instant. “I am so sorry…”
Unable to withstand the pain in her eyes, he studied the floor once more, not really seeing it at all, but at least he could only feel her eyes that way. Silence reigned for several long uncomfortable moments, and Maximus felt his heart dissipating. Now, truly, there was nothing left… Some idiotic part of him had held out hope, before – but for what irrational dream, he did not know. Now, though, even that was gone.
“Why did you not just save Rome?” Lucilla suddenly asked. “My death means nothing compared to that.”
Did she know how wrong she was? The truth rushed from his lips. “Because I love you,” Maximus blurted. “And I cannot bear to see you hurt.”
A small gasp escaped her lips, and suddenly she was standing very close to him, her voice gentle. “But you keep trying not to betray your dreams, yet every time you act, Commodus makes you pay. You are torn between love and loyalty to my father, and it is breaking your heart.”
He swallowed with difficulty. At that moment, there was nothing he would have rathered done than run from the room to escape his shame. “And yours.”
Her hand, still grasping his, squeezed gently. “I understand,” Lucilla said quietly. “And I do not hate you, Maximus.” Surprised, he looked up at the princess as her hand caressed his cheek. “I cannot.”
“But you are so hurt,” he found himself whispering in wonder, almost lost in her eyes, and in the second chance that was staring him in the face. What had he done to deserve this…?
“Not by you,” Lucilla replied tenderly. He could see it in her eyes; the sense of purpose had returned now that it all made sense. “I can’t hate you.”
Blinking back sudden tears, Maximus struggled to ask, “Why not?”
“Because I love you.”
A sudden wetness trickled down his cheeks. “I am so sorry,” he repeated, unable to move past the fact that for some insane reason, Lucilla forgave him for everything. How could she, after what she had been through? He could not believe that life was suddenly changing color again, but once for the better… Or was it merely that he was now receiving that fabled second chance that he had no longer believed in… Until now.
Lucilla placed a gentle finger on his lips. “I know,” she said quietly in reply. “And I do not blame you, Maximus. I just…” the princess faltered for the first time, her own vulnerabilities showing through the strong exterior once more. “I just do not want to be alone anymore.”
Quickly, he grasped her hand in his own. “You are not alone,” Maximus whispered, pulling her close. “Never again.”
As their arms wrapped around each other for the first time in far too long, Lucilla replied into his shoulder, “Neither are you.”
They stood there for uncountable long moments, each finding solace in the love they had always shared, and in finally being able to reach out and be held. Both had known so much loneliness and fear that they had almost forgotten existence without either feeling; only now were they realizing that life mustn’t be so cruel, and they did not have to face the darkness alone. Without thinking, both threw caution and hesitation to the four winds and just let go. In an undeniably true and sudden process, the princess and the general began the roads of healing – together.
Tears of joy, pain, despair, and relief flowed from their eyes, but neither found a reason to hide their deepest secrets from one another. There had been enough secrets and enough lies to last a lifetime – now they willingly opened up to one another because each knew that the other needed closeness the most. Neither, of course, thought of themselves, but in the process of loving each other, their own injuries would eventually mend. Time bled into one long blissful moment, until Maximus finally whispered from the depths of his heart, “I love you.”
Lucilla pulled back, and for one heart-stopping moment, the general’s entire soul clenched in fear. But she smiled, lightly, looked deep into his eyes, and kissed him.
The first rays of the morning sun flooded in through her window and found them wrapped tightly in each other’s arms and finally at peace. That night had been the most restful either had known in over a decade, not because they had made love, which they had not, but because together they somehow managed to banish all their demons. The darkness was no longer their enemy; the previous night had held comfort and love, nothing more. Each had their nightmares, but in waking together, those old fears vanished as quickly as they had risen.
As if from a dream, Maximus awoke first, and found himself smiling as he gazed on her peaceful face; a moment went by before he realized that it had been far too long since he had. Lucilla stirred slightly in his arms. “Good morning,” he whispered.
She awoke beaming. “I thought this was only my imagination,” Lucilla said in wonder.
“So did I,” Maximus replied truthfully. “But sometimes dreams come true.”
Snuggling closer to him, Lucilla whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being here,” the princess replied quietly. “For fighting. For giving me hope.”
The general tenderly kissed her forehead. “We are living the dream.”
“And what of another dream, Maximus?” Lucilla suddenly asked. “Does it still live?”
Her words did not shock him, yet still he felt a chill run down his spine. Yes, Maximus, you made the choice, an inner voice taunted him with gentle sarcasm. In giving his heart to her, he had precipitated many actions. Now there was so much more at risk than there had been even twelve hours before. This means you must carry it out… You cannot fail him now. “We fight,” he finally replied. “If we must.”
“We will have to.” As always, the voice of truth came from her. Indeed, Lucilla knew Rome far better than he could ever hope to, but they both knew her brother, and Commodus would never relinquish his prize without a full-scale war. Maximus’ job, however, was to prevent things from going that far.
“I know,” the general sighed, reluctantly freeing himself from her grasp and sitting up. Now he had to think strategically…always a hard thing to do when in love. Also, now he had to consider objectives he had never thought of in the past. “Will the senate support me?”
Sitting bold upright in surprise, Lucilla repeated, “You?”
“Someone has to stop him, to stand against him,” Maximus explained, wishing the world were otherwise. He swallowed for moment, remembering the dream he’d betrayed, but now determined to fulfill it once again. He owed it to Lucilla, and to Rome. The answers, though, he only gave her. “Your father asked me to do so before he died.”
Her eyes locked on his with understanding. “They will follow you,” she said quietly. “They have been waiting for a living, breathing, alternative to my brother, an that is you. You are the champion who can do everything they cannot.”
If only it weren’t so… His heart grieved for a moment, but it had to be done. Rome desperately needed a hero, as did the woman he loved so much. Inwardly, he resolved to never let her be hurt again. He could not change the past, but in the future, he could assure that she was not alone, and that was a start.
Quintus rubbed his eyes tiredly and then returned to the reports he’d been reading. Oh, he could count the ways in which he hated the Praetorian Guard, and many were more mundane than his disgust with his current boss. Paperwork and making rounds were high on that list, and, as usual, he’d just come back from the latter to do the former. He sighed wearily; if there had been a torch nearby, he might have been sorely tempted to take it to those infernal forms documents. It was way too early in the morning for such poorly written crap.
He groaned aloud. Stupid as it was, he truly hated this inaction, and Quintus had always grown bored easily – one of the reasons why he and Maximus had always gotten along was that neither could sit still for any longer than they had to. This was quickly growing on his last nerve. Letting his eyes slide shut, the general decided to ignore the mounds of dead trees and hope they would just go away. Besides, sleep was more entertaining that this…
“Ahem.”
Quintus nearly hit the roof when someone spoke behind him. Spinning, he glared irritably at the trespasser, who turned out to be none other than his superior officer. A crooked grin decorated Maximus’ face, though, and the praetorian had no doubt that Maximus had been watching him for some time, just waiting for the right moment in which to scare Quintus out of his wits. Arms crossed and almost snickering – he recognized the look of old – the senior general seemed to be waiting for his friends to recover.
Wait a moment… His mind suddenly alerted him to something amiss. This was Maximus standing before him smirking, the same man who had tried not once, but twice, to commit suicide in the most dramatic of manners. What had made him so happy that he could forget his pain?
“General?” Quintus asked in confusion.
The smirk vanished as soon as he spoke, seriousness rising in its place. “A little while ago, you told me that when I decided to act, I had your support,” he said calmly.
The praetorian’s heart leapt into his throat, and for one cruel moment, he hoped “Yes…”
Maximus’ eyes, determined, cold, and hard, met his evenly as he clasped his hands behind his back, the outward look of a calculated and collected general. “I need the Felix.”
Unable to speak from shock, Quintus merely let his jaw drop open. What did he just say? His mind desperately tried to assimilate the information. It was as if he was living in a sudden dream world that could not at all be real… Could it be so?
“I’m ready to make that move, Quintus.”
Ready? The man looking out behind those words was more than ready. He was able, and now, finally, acting – this was the Maximus of old, the man that Quintus and so many others would gladly have died for one thousand times over. However it had happened, he was back. This was the hero that Rome craved. Quickly swallowing his excitement back, the praetorian managed, “What are my orders?”
“I need you to find Lucius,” Maximus replied immediately.
That, fortunately, was easy enough, even though he’d finally recovered from his shock. Finally, the gods were being kind to this great man… What would that mean, though, when this was over? Surely, Maximus would win, but then what? What of Rome – who would rule? Quintus knew his friend was not ambitious, but he had the courage, and in the eyes of the army, Maximus had more right than Commodus could ever claim. Even the people of Rome were beginning to think that, the praetorian recalled; rumors of how close this extraordinary general had been to the old emperor ran amok throughout the city every day. For a moment, Quintus’ heart seized, and he wondered: What if…?
“Can you do that?” his general interrupted the pounding of his heart, and forced Quintus’ mind back to the matter at hand.
He nodded quickly. “Lucius is in Capri. The praetorians there are good men and will not harm him.”
A small smile of appreciation quirked on his old friend’s face. “I won’t ask how you know that, but good work,” he said. “We will send Presario to get him and bring him here.”
“And what will you do?” Quintus had to ask, his heart doing jumping-jacks in anticipation. This was sure to be good…
“Take the city.”
Even though he’d known the man for years – and had known that was the inevitable result of his plan – the praetorian commander still found himself flabbergasted to hear the words come so simply and easily from Maximus’ mouth. Rome was a virtually impregnable city, and had not fallen in hundreds of years… It could not be nearly as uncomplicated as his general made it seem with his confident words. Seeing his silence, Maximus was continuing.
“The men are camped halfway between here and Ostia,” he said easily. “I can return at the head of four legions by noon, if I leave within the hour.”
“And if you almost kill yourself getting there,” Quintus pointed out, uselessly fighting a smile. Oh, yes, Maximus was back. Even the reckless courage had returned, as usual. Damn the man for making so much sense while being so stupid… even now, the general was only raising one eyebrow, and the look on his face was one Quintus knew all too well. You know damn well it’s necessary, the stare replied. So don’t even bother arguing with me. It’s not worth the effort because you’ll lose, and I’ll get my way anyway.
The praetorian sighed helplessly as Maximus voiced what the look had already said. “I’m going. And I need you here to protect Lucilla.”
Suddenly the risks dawned on Quintus. Whatever, the reason, Maximus was still risking so much… Was it worth it? But something about him had changed; now he did not seem so hurt. What had healed those gaping wounds? The praetorian was unsure he should ask, so instead he said, “You are trusting me a great deal, Maximus.”
“Yes.”
And there was no more reply than that. No questions, no mentions of a past betrayal. Just total, unconditional, trust. For the blink of an eye, it seemed as if years had not passed and lives had not changed – and ended. Maybe there was a dream left after all. Quintus rose. “I will protect her with my life,” he said.
“Thank you.” For the first time, the general’s voice held a measure of emotion other than confidence… was he worried, or was it just love? Maximus stretched out a hand in his direction. “Strength and honor.”
The very words shot a chill up Quintus’ spin. The dream of Rome did live in his friend, after all. “Strength and honor,” he repeated, firmly grasping his general’s hand in a silent pledge of loyalty. Then he added, “I will open the gates to you if I can.”
Maximus smiled. “The Felix and I will be waiting.”
He strode quickly down the marble hallway, knowing that the palace was waking up now and he hadn’t much time. Fully armored and ready for war though he was, Maximus could not help but hesitate before one door. The yearning to enter was unbelievable; his soul cried out for the human touch only Lucilla could provide, and his heart longed to tell her, just one more time, that everything would be all right. But there just was not the time, and if he were found there, it would all be over. He could not endanger her now, not when he was so close. Without looking back, he moved on.
I will be back, he vowed silently. I will come back for you, Lucilla. You are not alone.
And suddenly, he realized, Neither am I.
A lighting strike could not have electrified the city faster than the site of four Roman legions on the horizon. Proudly flying the standard of the lion, and with their general again at their head, the men of the Felix Legions marched onward toward the jewel of the empire, now not to protect it, but to take it and everything it stood for. Each man knew what he was doing, and every one had volunteered to be there. They would follow their general to hell and beyond; if he wanted Rome, he should have it. Besides, many had noticed the differences in him against Austria. Rumors had flown, and though Valerius had quieted them immediately, everyone knew that something was wrong. Instinctively, they all blamed it on Commodus.
Only Maximus knew how right they were, and he was still awed by their loyalty. Not one man had turned away when given the opportunity; each and every one of them had chosen to march on Rome, the heart of the empire they were sworn to defend. Were they breaking that oath? He knew they were not, and his men had the faith to trust without explanation. But Maximus just was not that type of man. Raising his right arm, he called for the halt and battle formation.
He glanced over his shoulder to Valerius. “Command and staff,” he said, meaning for the colonel to gather all the officers and senior enlisted men together. He generally used such an assembly for last-minute, crash-planning sessions, but not today. This afternoon, he knew exactly what he was doing; now he only had to explain why.
Within five minutes, his key staff had gathered from the far reaches of his legions, and his men were battle-ready. He grinned for a moment as he assessed them and found no fault. They were truly the best in the world, and he again felt proud to lead them in pursuit of a great man’s dream. Dreams only die if you let them, a voice whispered in his mind. Nodding, he turned to his men.
They were mostly his old friends, these handpicked officers, and the finest in all of Rome’s armies. He’d pulled a lot of strings over the years to keep them with him, often driving Marcus Aurelius crazy in his tenacity. Yes, there were others almost as good, but none like these. Now he was glad for those long years and the trust they had borne. Maximus studied them all, one by one, the confident and ready faces. Yes, they deserved to know what they were fighting for.
“Before we go any further,” he began, “you all deserve an explanation from me. I have asked you to fight against your own home. Moreover, I have asked you for unquestioning loyalty. I guess what surprises me the most is that you never asked why.”
“We never needed to, sir,” Valerius said, accompanied by the others’ nods. Maximus pushed his next words through the unexpected lump in his throat.
“Maybe not, but you deserve to know,” he replied, and took a deep breath before continuing. Was he nervous, or was it just anticipation that pounded in his head? “As many of you are aware, I spoke to Marcus Aurelius before he died. That day, he told me that Commodus was not to be his heir.”
A falling sky could not have shocked them more than the general’s evenly spoken words. Simultaneously, his officers’ eyes widened and their lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. One by one, they looked to each other in shock; it made sense as the truth yet was still incredibly stunning. Before they could ask the inevitable question – or he could lose his nerve to bare this secret he had kept for so long, Maximus continued.
“The emperor asked me to ensure that the power of Rome was restored to the people. He wanted Rome to be a republic again.” He paused for a moment, remembering those last moments with the one father he had ever truly loved, and grieved once more. Maximus would have given anything to have the old man’s guidance now. But he would have given even more to be able to thank Marcus Aurelius for all he had done over the years. However, he knew the time for that was past, and it was time to move on. Waiting several moments more, the general let his words sink in, admiring the calm and ready faces. Finally, he spoke the last and necessary words.
“Commodus found that out and killed him.”
Shock played over their faces – Maximus’ “death” made sense now; finally, Valerius spoke for them all. “We are with you, sir,” the infantryman said quietly. “We always have been.”
“And now you know why,” Maximus replied, nodding acknowledgement of their loyalty – what else could he do, save accept it? They would give nothing less. His eyes scanned their faces for doubt, but there was none. Let my men see me alive and you shall see where their loyalties lie… Once that had been a source of pride to him, then a shameful reminder of his past, but now it served Rome once more, and that was enough.
“Questions, gentlemen?” he asked quietly, but there were none. They all knew the plan; now they only had to finish what should have been started long ago. He allowed himself a confident grin for the first time in… too long. “Then get back to your men,” he ordered. “And tell them we fight for Rome.”
There was no battle; and this would not be the last time in Roman history that the beautiful city’s gates were opened from within. However, no invaders marched through the streets, and the Praetorian Guard had been ordered to stand down. Most obeyed, though some chose not to, and the streets began to bleed as praetorian met legionnaire in the very heart of the empire. The action was fast and furious, but horrendously one sided. The guard might have known the city well, but Maximus’ four legions overran them through sheer force of will and training. Lives were spared when possible; even on opposite sides of this battle, the warriors were still brother Romans.
Many of the praetorians changed their minds as the conflict wore on and they spotted the figure at the head of the main Roman line, and they did not only stand down; when necessary, they turned and fought side by side with the legions. Over the past few months, even Commodus’ personal guard had grown to love and respect the great general, almost as his own men did. The emperor had never noticed this before, nor could he have understood why his own men were drawn to his mortal enemy. He could never have understood great leadership.
With absurd quickness, the head of the column moved upon the Via Appia to the palace steps. Incredibly enough, Commodus was waiting there with – Maximus’ heart leapt into his throat and threatened to choke him – Lucilla standing nearby. Until he spotted Quintus behind her, the general saw red; then he realized that Quintus had still not shown his hand. Commodus did not know that his Praetorian Commander held a royal flush.
Maximus dismounted at the bottom of the stairs and moved forward without hesitation. The young emperor’s eyes widened in shock, but he did not retreat. In fact, he was foolish enough to move his hand to his gladius’ hilt in an all too clear acceptance of the unspoken challenge.
Their eyes locked, each cold and calm. Commodus was especially confident, knowing that he held the one thing dearest to Maximus in the world, and could take that away any time. The younger man’s eyes suddenly danced with glee as he realized that there was an utterly easy way to win this battle, and to reclaim all the power the general held over him.
Then Maximus smiled, and Commodus faltered.
“Lucius Commodus Aurelius Antoninus,” Maximus announced in a loud and clear voice, fully aware of the crowd lining the streets. “I arrest you in the name of Rome –”
“What?” the younger man cried. That was certainly not what he had expected to hear, but Maximus just plowed right through and went right over his screech.
“–For the murder of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius,” he finished, only then noticing the nearby gathered senators, and the shock on their faces.
Commodus threw back his head and laughed madly. He is insane, the general thought. But the emperor only kept laughing, so Maximus looked directly at Quintus.
“General?” he asked, and Quintus stepped forward willingly.
“Highness, you are under arrest.”
That stopped the laughter, and Commodus’ mad face quickly turned to confused despair. “Quintus?” he gasped.
The praetorian only met his gaze evenly and proudly, and Maximus bit back a smile for his friend. Finally, they were both returning to what was right. At Quintus’ signal, several praetorians moved forward and took Commodus away. The unfortunate young man fought them uselessly, carrying on about how he was the rightful ruler of Rome, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Not even the crowd cared for him now; they were too enthralled with the presence of their general on the steps. Somehow, he looked as if he belonged there.
Maximus’ eyes quickly scanned his surroundings; he had senators to the left, Lucilla to his right, and his army at his back. There were no threats left – then movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and suddenly Lucilla flew into his arms. Not caring about protocol, the crowd, or even the senate, Maximus willingly returned the embrace, burying his face in her long curls. “It’s over,” he whispered.
“No,” the princess said in his ear. Then she pulled back to look at him, her beautiful eyes shining with tears he longed to kiss away. Lucilla smiled. “It’s only beginning.”
The crowd roared as they kissed passionately, not caring a wit about their surroundings or those watching them – the war was over; the pain had ended; and now, finally, they were free to love and be loved. There was no monster to torture them and keep them apart. The twin emptiness in two souls had been filled by another, and suddenly, neither feared what the future might bring. Now they were free to follow their dreams, together, and after the hellish paths they had both walked, nothing was more crucial than love.
Finally they parted, faces flushed and eyes glowing. Only then did Gracchus’ voice, stiff and filled with mistrust, reach them. “Rome is yours, General.”
Together the general and the princess turned to face the old senator, their hands joined and their thoughts aligned. So much had been lost… including humanity for them, and justice for Rome. How either could be rekindled was yet a mystery, but both knew that not every battle could be won. In the end, one crucial element would never be attained, and no matter which it was, Rome would suffer. Without a human and compassionate leader, the republic would never survive, yet to heal Rome, neither would ever be able to heal themselves; each knew that, in the end, fighting the system would only break them further, and eventually, tear them apart.
Neither needed to speak for the decision to be made.
“Marcus Aurelius had a dream that was Rome, Senator,” Maximus responded evenly. “And he died because of it.
“He wanted to give Rome back to the people as a final gift. He wanted Rome to be free. The emperor entrusted that dream to me before he died.” The general looked the senator in the eye. “And I give it to you.”
The crowd grew deathly silent. Everything they had known of the past had just been thrown topsy-turvy and jiggled upside down. Even Gracchus looked shaken, but he spoke sincerely.
“The crown is yours if you want it.”
Quickly looking at Lucilla, Maximus was glad to see her nod, a slight smile on her face. More importantly, though, her features held hope, and he shared it in his heart. He would have no regrets.
“No,” he replied quietly, knowing what the old senator was offering, and how great a gift it was. “My dreams lie elsewhere.”
Slowly, he turned toward Quintus even as the praetorian commander approached once more. From the look on the other man’s face, Maximus knew no explanation was necessary. He extended his right hand to his old friend. “Protect the Senate,” he said. “They are the people’s only voice.”
The praetorian’s handshake was warm, but he seemed unable to find his voice. Their eyes met, and Maximus smiled to reassure him – yes, this was everything he wanted, and just what he needed. “Good luck,” Quintus finally managed.
“And you,” the general replied. “I will look for you in Spain.”
“I will come,” the other confirmed, and then bowed to Lucilla one last time. “My Lady.”
She smiled as he kissed her hand. “I thank you, General, for your courage.”
Quintus only nodded, but Maximus knew that Lucilla understood. Sometimes words were too much. He looked to Gracchus one last time.
“Take care of her, Senator,” he said. “I will always be watching.”
“We will do our best, General.”
The Protector of Rome nodded easily. “Of that I have no doubt,” he said, and without looking back, Maximus and Lucilla walked away, leaving the city of dreams and nightmares in their wake.