The only light in the Emperor's tent came from oil lamps. Marcus sat with his back to Maximus. He was writing his diary and at first he did not realize Maximus had arrived.

"Caesar. You sent for me," said Maximus. Marcus, lost in his thoughts, did not reply. "Caesar?" Maximus repeated.

"Tell me again, Maximus," Marcus said. "Why are we here?"

"For the glory of the Empire, sir."

At first he thought Marcus had not heard him. Then Marcus slowly got up from his desk and softly said, "Yes, I remember..."

He walked over to a large map of the Roman Empire and waved a hand across it. "Do you see it, Maximus? This is the world I have made. For twenty years I have tried to be a student of life and of men-but what have I really done?" He touched the map. "For twenty years I have fought and won battles. I have defended the Empire and increased it. Since I became Caesar I have only had four years of peace. And for what?"

"To make our borders safe," said Maximus. "To bring teaching and law."

"I brought the sword! Nothing more! And while I have fought, Rome has grown fat and diseased. I did this. And nothing can change the fact that Rome is far away and we shouldn't be here."

"But Caesar ..." Maximus started, but Marcus interrupted him.

"Don't call me that," he said. "We have to talk together now. Very simply. Just as men. Can we do that?"

"Forty thousand of my men are out there now, freezing in the mud," said Maximus. "Eight thousand are wounded and two thousand will never leave this place. I won't believe they fought and died for nothing."

"What do you believe, Maximus?"

"That they fought for you-and for Rome," he replied.

"And what is Rome, Maximus? Tell me."

"I've seen too much of the rest of the world and I know it's cruel and dark. I have to believe that Rome is the light."

"But you have never been there," said Marcus. "You have not seen Rome as it is now."

Maximus had heard stories about Rome. People in the cities were hungry and food prices were much too high. Some Romans had become very rich, but most were poor. Bridges, roads, and ports all needed repairs, while tax money went into the pockets of the rich. There were many things wrong at the heart of the enormous empire.

"I am dying, Maximus. And I want to see that there has been some purpose to my life." Marcus sat down again. "It's strange. I think more about the future than the present. How will the world speak my name in future years?" He held out his hand to Maximus, who took it and came to sit next to Marcus.