The First Book of the Pure Read Online Free PDF

finally outlived his time. He took slow,
careful steps to deal with that issue. His wife was getting older,
and he wasn’t. He was a soldier and lived a hard life, yet didn’t
age. Nor did he display any scars from his many wounds, which he
knew perplexed his wife. She was an intelligent woman, but knew
better than to question her husband much. His wife lived a good
life from what he earned, but seemed to have aged noticeably each
time he returned from a campaign. His last wife, in a city a great
distance away, had died by his own hand as he left, for she had not
pleased him. This wife was different, and he grieved that he
wouldn’t see her again. He had moments of sorrow as he watched her
age and knew her life would be short. Already having determined
that this was to be his last battle, he didn’t have to think about
love, now or ever again. It was so desperately painful to love
someone you knew you would outlive by many lifetimes. Still, he had
arranged for her life to be as comfortable as possible after his
departure. He had stockpiled gold and silver from his campaigns and
from his private fights, which he always won, and put them where
she would find them fairly soon. There were stacks of salt also,
since often it was with salt that he and the other soldiers were
paid. And Maximus was always worth his salt. He kissed her goodbye
as he left to join his legion for a new campaign against the
southern barbarians.
    One night in the moonless dark of the
campaign trail, he rose after the moon had started to hide behind
some clouds. A denarius , he thought, picturing the coin of
his empire, dropping into the slot of tomorrow . He saluted
the sentry he passed on his way, and took a sizable pouch of gold
he had saved, in a tough leather bag, and started walking. A day
later he found the caves he remembered from a campaign years
before. He went in and climbed down as far as was possible into the
cave system. It was dry for a cavern system, and thick with dust.
There he used his great strength and the staff he brought with him
to move some rather large stones. Dead or not, he had no intention
of being some animal’s supper. Beneath one stone he placed his
leather bag. It was beneath the farthest stone past the narrowest
area that allowed a body to pass. He committed it to memory and
turned away. In the battle they marched to in three days, he would
die.
    He marched with his companions, telling
coarse jokes and passing the time as military men had always done,
and still do. Each man knew he could be marching to his last
battle. But they were Romans, and they were soldiers in service to
Caesar, so they marched.
    Sergius Paulus was on his horse at the front
of the column, and Maximus marched next to him. Sergius sat tall on
his horse, even though he was barely over five feet tall. Horses of
late were a rare and coveted commodity, for most had been sent with
the legions fighting the great Hun hoards. It seemed the empire had
no lack of enemies. So Maximus marched. “Ho Maximus,” called
Sergius. “Another glorious battle for the Emperor.” He looked at
his old comrade shrewdly. “Or is it just another day to fight?”
    “Glory to Caesar,” called back Maximus to his
old friend. “I’ve a bad feeling about this one though. It could
well be my last. I’m not so young anymore, my captain.”
    “Nonsense,” shot back Sergius. “No man of
this six thousand can outfight you, no matter your age. You’ll
fight and kill, and have the strength to go whoring with the men
when we return.” He laughed as he said it, believing it to be true.
“Is your arm well enough from that deep wound you took last
season?”
    “Aye it ‘tis, sir. It wasn’t so deep as you
thought. And as to how we fare today, your will, my lord.” Maximus
displayed the faintest of smiles. In that age, he had phenomenal
teeth, straight and white. Maximus gave a rare, toothy grin. “About
that whoring comment, you know my wife, right? Ha-ha, those days
are