Music filled the basement as Nero's fiddle played accomanied by Maximus' screams. The general was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Several men sat around waiting for the music to stop. The end of the song was coming up, Maximus thought. That meant more pain.
It had started inocuously enough. Nero had asked Maximus if he liked music. He then asked him to listen to him play. While Nero was no Meistro, he could play the notes well enough to recognize the music he was playing. When the music stopped, Nero went to find the sheet music for another piece. That was when the other men in the basement began to beat him.
His fingernails had been torn off. The bones in his left foot had been broken several times over. Blood had pooled below him from cuts throughout various parts of his body.
This time it would be electricity. One of the men attached a wire to the skin on his left hand, and another to his right. No longer able to protest, Maximus waited for the switch to be pulled. He then felt his body jump, but no longer felt the pain. Looking down, he saw that the skin on his hand had turned a dark purple - even black in some parts.
Finally the music played again, and his torturers sat down. Nero was a very sick man. He made his audience enjoy his music. The alternative was pain. It was beginning to work, now. Maximus, while not enjoying the music itself, at least was able to relax a bit when the music played.
"Stop," came a soft voice. Maximus looked up to see Commodus dismiss Nero. "I've heard enough of that racket." Nero gathered his sheetmusic, placed his fiddle in its case, and began to leave the room.
"You were a wonderful audience, Maximus. I hope to play for you again sometime." Maximus did not look at Nero, nor did he acknowledge what the man said. He heard the door slam as Nero left the room.
Commodus turned a chair around and sat facing Maximus, not more than six inches from the man. He stared at him, and Maximus returned his stare. Eventually, he spoke.
"Do you miss your brother, Maximus?" Commodus asked.
"Of course I do," he replied.
"Yet you killed him. You said so, yourself."
"I know I did. It was an accident."
"Was it? You and your brother had quite a rivalry."
Maximus began to wonder where Commodus was going with this. "No more than any other brothers."
"When Dominic died you became the primary heir to your father's wealth and position, didn't you, Maximus?"
"I would give up everything that I ever accomplished to have Dominic back with me."
Commodus looked at Maximus sternly. "Would you?" he asked.
After a brief, dramatic pause, Commodus continued.
"Why did Caesar favor you so? Was it because of your father's untimely death?"
"Caesar rewarded loyalty, not the position of one's father," replied Maximus. He then narrowed his eyes at Commodus. "A position that many have benefited from."
Maximus's remark was rewarded with a slap across the face. He had hit a sour spot with Commodus, who's position was a direct result of Marcus Aurelius' position.
"Do not speak of my father," said Commodus. "He is not important here."
Maximus continued. He may be going out, but he would go out leaving a few seeds in Commodus' limited brain.
"Caesar loved your father, Commodus. He loved him like a brother. Everyone loves your father, it seems, but you."
Commodus quickly grabbed Maximus by the collar and pushed his chair down to the floor. Maximus' fall was cushioned by the ropes that still bound him. He now had a chance. One of the ropes had loosened a bit in the fall.
Maximus watched as Commodus dropped to his knees in front of him. The senator began to speak softly again to Maximus, and moved his head but two inches from that of the general.
"You speak of things that you don't know, Maximus. My father was loved by all. Especially me."
"Loved?"
Commodus had slipped, Maximus thought. The senator stopped abruptly and stood with his back turned to Maximus. After a few moments he began to clap. "Very good, Maximus. You've figured it all out. Yes, Marcus Aurelius is dead. I'll not speak of his death with you.
"But what of you, Maximus?" Commodus continued. "Where does your story end? You've lived almost your whole life with the guilt of killing your brother. Soon you will join him. What will you say to Dominic?"
"That is between him and me. Dominic understands that it was an accident. Your father knows that you murdered him, though."
"Me? Murder my father?" laughed Commodus. "Certainly not. It was most likely a common thief. Wasn't it, Anthony?" He turned to one of the men who had tortured Maximus.
"I believe so, sir."
"Anthony, why don't you and your crew go and arrest the thief now. He's probably out in the forum as we speak."
"Yes sir." The torturors stood and left the room.
Maximus had almost managed to get his right hand free. He had no feeling in this hand, as the electrocution torture had killed all of its skin. It was then that Commodus kicked him.
"Speaking of fathers," Commodus began. "What of your father? One of Caesar's finest generals. Killed in action in the Northern Province."
"That was years ago," Maximus replied. He felt Commodus lean down. The senator spoke from behind him.
"Time does not change things. Do you think it odd that your father was buried at sea when he died on land?" Maximus said nothing. Commodus continued.
"Do you find it striking at all that I was your father's second in command? An appointment, I might point out, that my father arranged." Commodus kicked him again to emphasize and acknowledge the position given him by his father's influence.
Maximus began to fill with anger. It was then that he began to feel a sharp poke in his back. Commodus was pushing a dagger into his lungs.
"There was nobody left at the time to lead your father's army. I supose somebody had to be placed in command. Caesar had no choice. But I never disapointed."
Maximus could hardly gather the breath to speak. "You...are a complete disapointment, Commodus. You are a coward."
"A coward? Maybe. But you don't need to worry about that anymore." Maximus felt the dagger in his back become firm. He had to act.
His hand now freed, Maximus swung himself around and with what strength remained, hit Commodus accross the face with his now fleshless hand.
Commodus fell back and over a chair as Maximus struggled to stand. The general reached around his back and painfully pulled the dagger out. Pain was no longer an issue. He had felt enough pain since yesterday for a thousand men.
He approached Commodus, who was on his back, stunned. As he leaned down with the dagger, Commodus was able to recover enough to kick Maximus away. Both men took a few moments to recover, and Maximus rose first. He stumbled over and fell beside Commodus, who's skin had been stripped from half of his face by the bones in Maximus' hand.
"We'll soon meet our makers, Commodus. I doubt, though, that we will be going to the same place." With that, Maximus plunged the dagger in the chest of Commodus.
Maximus rolled over. He thought of trying to write some kind of note, but did not have the strength. Already he was blacking out from the lack of oxygen due to his pierced lung. Soon he would be dead.
He would see his father again, and Dominic. He could finally apologize to Dominic after all of these years of guilt. Maximus hoped that the life of integrity and loyalty that he had lived would prove his worth to his father and brother.
With his last breath, Maximus pulled the dagger from Commodus' body and placed it across his chest. This was the salute to Caesar. Maximus closed his eyes and slipped away.