The girl rode her horse beneath the arch which read "Willis Miniature Horse Ranch" where she passed the house on the left and saw the barns and corrals behind. The first person she saw was a short, stout woman who was hanging sheets on the clothes line.

Betty Willis turned at the sound of the horse's hoofs. Her plump face broke into a smile. "Hello, Monica, did you ride over to visit the little emperor?"

The girl swung one slender leg over the pommel of her saddle and dropped gracefully to the ground a few feet in front of Mrs. Willis. Monica was a tall girl, a full six inches taller than the older woman. She tossed her short, blonde hair as she grinned. "How's the little guy doing? I heard him whinnying from way down the road."

"That was because he knew you were coming. George says Marcus always gets excited when you're coming, it seems you're the only one he cares for. He sure ain't crazy about George or me." Betty's accent was very much east London, although she had been here for more than twenty years.

"It must be because of old Duke here." Monica joked.

"I don't think so, dear. Emperor Marcus is pretty straight, besides Duke is a gelding. Come on down to the barn, George and Gary are there feeding the horses."

Monica walked beside Betty, leading her horse. She paused at the paddock to tie Duke's reins to the fence before she followed the older women into the long barn. Inside they found Betty's husband, George, who was fully as stout as she was, but a head taller.

Monica was fond of Betty and George, but she didn't feel this affection for their son, Gary, who stood, holding a pitchfork, leering at Monica in her scanty garb. Seeing Gary, she wished she had worn long jeans and a jumper instead of the tiny cut-offs and the thin tee-shirt. She knew what Gary had on his mind and she wanted no part of him.

The other small horses were in their open stalls munching on the hay. Most of them were about three feet in height with the exact confirmations of a larger horse. These were a special breed from England and the Willis's had only the best, it was a business for them. She heard a whinny from the back of the barn and George grinned at her. "Monica, your little friend, the Emperor, is calling for you."

When Monica stood before the end stall the small, black horse pranced and danced around in circles. He shook his black, white tipped mane and his bushy tail stood up proudly. She smiled with pleasure at the stately, little horse, saying, "I'm happy to see you, too, my handsome Emperor."

At the sound of the girl's voice the little stallion tossed his head and his upper lip curled back over his strong teeth in a grin. Monica reached over the rail to pat the horse's head and beside her she head Gary say to his father, "Dad, if Marcus is going to service the mares we better have Monica over here. He sure don't show any interest otherwise."

She turned to look at the heavy, older man. "Won't he breed the mares when they come into heat."

George grimaced and shook his head. "Seems he acts like a gelding, just ignores them. We paid good money for him because we wanted his blood in our herd, but so far he's done nothing."

Betty had come up and added, "Well, his former owner warned us and we had a vet check him, but Marcus just isn't turned on by our pretty, little mares."

"Maybe he's only turned on by pretty blondes in tiny shorts."

Monica turned to glare at the younger man next to her, then she said to George, "Can I take Marcus out for some exercise? I know he'll follow me."

"Sure he will, luv." Betty said. "Why don't you take a ride down by the creek? It's so pretty there now."

When George opened the stall door the proud, little horse pranced out to follow Monica down the length of the barn and into the sunshine where he watched her mount Duke then trotted happily behind as they headed into the pasture. Without benefit of the reins, Duke headed for the distant poplar trees where he knew there was shade, grass, and water.

It was a picturesque place where the girl reined her horse in. A bend in the small stream provided a wide, grassy bank and overhead were the tall, stately poplars providing cool shade. She slid to the ground and threw Duke's reins over the pommel, knowing the wise, old horse wouldn't wander far from her.

The small horse had come up to rub his flank against Monica's bare leg. The top of his back just reached her hip and his head was no higher than her chest. She put her hand on his head and rubbed her fingers behind his ears. All horses loved this and she found this miniature stallion was no exception. He rolled his eyes to the side in a sign of his appreciation.

"You like that, my little man." She told him. "Who was it that named you Emperor Marcus, and why? Was it because you are so fierce looking and proud, like a Roman warrior? Or is it because you have the blood of the ancient Romans in your veins?"

Marcus gave a soft whinny and turned his head to nibble on Monica's bare arm in a gentle horse kiss.

She continued her conversation, "Why is it you're not doing your duty and breeding the little mares? You're disappointing George, you know. You are so capable of fathering strong sons and beautiful daughters, so why aren't you? Is it because the little female horses are commoners--not of the royal blood?"

Monica bent down to kiss the top of his head, "You must not be so particular, my proud, little warrior."

Marcus raised his head to look up at her with his big, liquid brown eyes and whinny again.

The running brook looked inviting and Monica slipped off her canvas runners to wade into the cool water. This early in the summer it wasn't comfortable enough for swimming, but, wearing her cut-offs, she could wade in up to her thighs. She turned to see that the small horse stood on the bank, with his forefeet in the water, watching her. Duke was placidly munching the lush, spring grass further up the bank.

She heard Marcus whinny once again and she came out to the water to give him a pat on the head. The green grass felt so nice on her bare feet so going barefoot was an appealing thought. She held her shoes and giggled as she looked at the small stallion. "Goodness, Marcus, you're an awful horny, little fellow. Why are you getting so excited? None of your cute little harem are around."

When Monica sat on a large rock to put on her shoe the small stallion moved closer to her. She was tying the laces as she glanced over at the lengthy, dark staff that arched from the horse's belly. It was impressive and Monica surveyed it a moment before she rose to her feet and admonished, "Now, Marcus, you put that thing away and save it until you get back to the barn where the mare's will appreciate it."

Marcus whinnied.

When Monica returned home she rode Duke into the open corral where she unsaddled him, then rubbed him down with a curry comb before she released him. One her way to the house she saw her father in the garage and paused, "Hi. Dad."

Harvey Barett turned, "Hello, Monica, what's up?"

"Dad, where can I get some information about a Roman emperor named Marcus? The encyclopedia maybe?"

Harvey thought about this. "Pretty vague description, honey. Why don't you see Father Garcia at Saint Mary's? He's an expert on Roman history."

After supper Monica took her father's suggestion and asked his permission to drive the pick-up into town. Her knock at the door of the rectory behind Saint Mary's church was answered by a short man with skin like cordovan leather and dressed in a priest's habit. He peered at the pretty girl through thick, rimless glasses. "Ah, Miss Barett. For what do I owe this pleasure?"

Monica was amused, she liked this priest, but she found him strange. She said, "Father Garcia, I need some information on a Roman emperor who lived long ago and Dad said you would know."

The priest smiled. "Perhaps, but there were so many Roman emperors. Some quite minor and others nothing but pretenders. Come in and share a pot of tea with me."

When they were seated at a small, round table and Father Garcia was pouring the tea Monica told him what she sought.

"Ah, Emperor Marcus. It must be that you refer to the great Marcus Aurelius, the scourge of the Christians of Rome."

The blonde girl brightened. "Yes, I'm sure. Do you know anything about him, Father?"

The priest's dark eyes showed bright through his thick glasses. "My dear, any man of the cloth is most familiar with Marcus Aurelius, but at the age of seventy- seven I find my memory not altogether trustworthy. Bring your tea and we will consult an infallible memory--the computer."

Monica followed the priest into the front office where he sat down before a computer to turn the machine on. As the monitor lit up, the girl asked, "Is this information in your computer, Father?"

"On the Internet, Monica. We are consulting the prime source of information on ancient Rome--Notre Dame University. Give me thirty seconds and we shall have what you seek."

When he had logged in and the text came on the screen the priest studied it intently. He murmured, "Ah, yes, the Emperor Aurelius appears to have been a very wicked and powerful man. This is for your history at school? Shall I make a full printout?"

"Just the important parts, Father. Was he a general?" She was thinking of the mannerisms of his namesake, the little horse.

"Odd you should ask because, yes, he was one of the great Roman generals, which was why he became emperor in 168 A.D." The priest laughed. "It seems all of Marcus Aurelius's competitors died an early death; his co-emperor, Lucius Verus, died mysteriously at the age of thirty-nine. The Emperor of Rome was a high risk position, many met an early, violent end."

"Was Marcus Aurelius married?"

Father Garcia studied the screen and nodded. "Not much is known about his wife, Aridne, who is said to have been mentally unstable. Their one son, Lucius, finally succeeded his father as emperor in 180 A.D. Lucius left a long line of Roman emperor's with the given name of Marcus."

Monica was digesting this information as she thought of the little stallion. "Father, is there much on his personal life?"

He smiled benignly at the girl. "My dear, we're discussing the history of nearly two thousand years ago. There wasn't the media coverage then that there is today. We do have one thing; at the age of fifty, Marcus Aurelius, had a young mistress named Flavia, a royal court attendant. Flavia died a mysterious death of poisoning at the age of twenty-six and suspicion fell on Aridne. Aurelius, himself, was poisoned two years later, at the age of fifty-eight."

Monica finished her tea and rose. "Father Garcia, you've been marvelous. I don't know how to thank you."

He gave her two sheets of a printout. "Thank the information super highway, my dear. If you need further data, feel free to drop by here any time."

When Monica left the rectory she felt better now that she know about the namesake of the little horse. Whoever had named him had certainly made a sound judgement of his personality, for his stature and psyche spoke of nothing less than an emperor. It was too bad the Emperor Marcus couldn't speak.

That evening when the four members of the Barett family were at supper the oldest child, Monica, broached an important question. "Wouldn't it be nice to have a miniature horse on the place? They don't eat much."

Her younger brother snickered and her father laughed. "One of George Willis's little horses? What for? They're too small to ride, too big to have in the house, and you can't eat one. Besides, you kids have old Duke."

That seemed to put an end to her quest. Monica knew her father and she would have to approach him alone. She looked at her mother. "Mom, have we any Italian ancestors? Maybe a long time ago?"

Pamela Bartlett smiled across the table at her daughter. "I don't think so dear. My family was all from Wales and your father's family from the north of England."

"But didn't the Roman's conquer and occupy Wales?" Monica urged.

"Yes, they did." Pamela laughed. "There may have been a Roman in the woodpile, one never knows."

Harvey looked quizzically at his daughter. "What's on your devious brain, young lady? First Roman emperors and now miniature horses?"

Two days later Monica got the chance to ride Duke to the Willis ranch. When she rode into their yard she saw the station wagon was gone--they must be in town. She tied Duke to the corral fence and went into the barn where the first thing she saw was Gary Willis sitting on some sacks of grain with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He grinned at her.

"Gary, you're smoking in the barn. That's dangerous." She admonished. She had worn her shorts again and it bothered Monica how Gary ran his eyes slowly up her longs legs, focusing upon her pelvic area.

He took a long draw on his cigarette and expelled a cloud of smoke into the air before he spoke. "You sound just like the old lady. Did you come over to see me or Marcus?"

Monica was about to give him a curt retort when a familiar whinny came from the back of the barn. Marcus knew she was here and she left to go to his stall with Gary following her. As she approached, the miniature stallion tossed his head and stamped his fore feet as he came to the rail.

"I'm happy to see you too, my little emperor." She reached over to pat his head. She said to the man standing next to her. "Has Marcus shown any interest in the mares since the other day?"

"None. 'Course we haven't had any mares come in heat, but even if they were he wouldn't pay any attention. The only female he pays any mind to is you." Gary giggled. "And you ain't even in heat."

Monica gave the man a hard look, glad to see that he no longer had his cigarette. "Gary, you keep all the records of the miniature horses, the pedigrees and all that. What's Marcus's full name?"

He lifted his gaze from her bare legs to say, "It's Emperor Marcus Aurelius."

She felt a sense of elation. "Why was he named that?"

"Damned if I know." Gary took a swig of his beer. "He was born in Italy, you know. He was sold to a miniature horse breeder in England, then to a man in New York. We got him from a woman in Texas and I got an idea that little devil has brought nothing but a headache to any of his owners."

The horse looked up at Monica with his big, dark eyes. She gave him an affectionate pat. "I don't think Marcus has ever considered he had an owner. Does he look like anyone's chattel?"

"He sure don't. You going to take him out for a run?"

Monica nodded as Marcus lifted his handsome head so she could scratch him beneath his chin. She opened his gate and the little horse pranced with expectation and trotted beside the girl on the way out of the barn. In the sunlight Marcus gave Duke a cursory glance as Monica jumped onto the larger horse's back, as if he only considered Duke a mode of transportation for his pretty, young mistress.

When they were out in the pasture Marcus let out a loud snort and broke into a full gallop to dash in circles around the plodding Duke. Monica laughed with glee and dug her heels into Duke's flanks, sending the old horse into a sedate trot. Marcus reached the glade on the creek first and waited with his head held high watching the girl dismount and release the big horse.

"Whew, you are so fast, my proud emperor." She told him. "Isn't it such a lovely day? Almost warm enough for a swim."

Monica went to the edge of the creek where she dipped one foot into the water. "Burr... A little too cold." She sat on the short, dry grass. "Aren't you eating this fresh, green grass? Look at how Duke's enjoying it."

Marcus came over to stand beside her, he wasn't much taller than the seated girl's head. She smiled at him. "You're such an affectionate little man. I don't think you were so affectionate when you were an emperor except, perhaps, to the women you loved. Or was it only one woman? Because Father Garcia tells me you were a very bad man--cruel and harsh with your enemies."

The small stallion stood close, watching the seated girl. She put her hand on his foreleg, stroking the soft, short hair, as she continued her conversation with him. She talked to him almost as she thought he was capable of understanding what she was saying, for his large eyes were focused upon her as if he could.

"In your other life, long ago, did you love a young woman with the name of Flavia?" Monica looked for a reaction at the mention of this name, but the horse was still watching her steadily. "Was Flavia very beautiful? Yes, she must have been and she was half your age, wasn't she? Marcus, you were not only a wicked man in your former life, you were an old rake, as well."

The little horse lowered his head. Did he know she was reproving him? She pressed, "Well, old men can love as well as young ones, perhaps better. But what of Aridne? Was she mad? If she was, Marcus, why did you keep her? After all, you were the emperor and you had the power. You regret that now, don't you? Because your neglect allowed Aridne to poison your true love. You were too busy persecuting Christians and in far fields conquering the Goths to be at home taking care of your women. Your macho image cost you your one true love, did it not?"

Marcus uttered a soft snort and Monica thought how weird it was because this small stallion almost seemed to comprehend what she was saying. She moved her caressing hand to his belly to rub the soft fur there.

Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm sorry, Marcus, I shouldn't blame you for Flavia's death. You have had that cross to bear for eighteen hundred years and it has been a great burden for you. Aridne was a very wicked woman, wasn't she? You knew she murdered Flavia, yet you didn't have her put to death. Was it because she was the mother of your only son, Lucius?"

She looked into the large, brown eyes. "Yes, that was it. Lucius had to succeed you as the Emperor of Rome, the most powerful nation on earth, hadn't he? It would have been bad policy for you to kill the mother of your only son. But you made a mistake, my little emperor, because two years after your love's death, the wicked Aridne, gave you poison. Perhaps you didn't care and you consumed Aridne's potion willingly, for you wanted to join your true love for eternity."

Monica continued to rub the horse's belly as she talked to him. "Marcus, did you join your true love to spend eighteen centuries in bliss? Or did you spend that time in frustrated loneliness, waiting for the day you would see Flavia again?"

She cocked her head and looked at him uncertainly. "Were you reborn in Italy as the handsome stallion you are? To travel half way around the world in search of your Flavia?" She sighed. "Oh, Marcus, how I wish you could talk. I am dying to know if you think I look like Flavia. Is this the reason you always want to be near to me?"

The horse only answered by lifting his head high and snorting. Monica was looking at his face and saw that Marcus was visibly excited, when she glanced back at where her hand stroked his belly she saw why. The small stallion had a rapid, growing erection. What was the reason? Had her hand or her talk intrigued him to this sexual urge?

"Marcus, what's the matter?" She giggled. "Why are you showing me your affection for me in this manner? I do love you, but this is ridiculous."

The horse stamped his forefeet to show her this demonstration was in no way ridiculous and the appendage protruding from his lower belly grew to even larger proportions. Monica was a country girl and she had see all sorts of animals breeding. This was nothing new to her, yet she watched with fascination.

"My goodness, Marcus, you are tremendous." Monica stated in awe before she giggled. "If your little mares saw this I'm sure they would run and hide. It's little wonder they named you for an emperor."

The miniature stallion stood like a statue as if he knew Monica stared at his manhood and he took pleasure in displaying it to her. She had stopped rubbing his belly, but she couldn't take her eyes off him, it was as if she was mesmerized. Monica felt her interest was somewhat wicked, yet her conversation with the stallion had been so intimate, as if they had a great deal in common.

Her hand went back to the horse's belly and she continued to stroke when a rasping voice, thick with sarcasm, alarmed her. "No wonder the Emperor likes you, you sure got him a wanger there, baby."

Monica guiltily jerked her hand away and turned so rapidly she nearly fell off the rock she sat on. Gary squatted on his heels six feet behind her. His close-set, beady eyes were intent on her and there was a smirk on his alcohol puffed face. Monica's surprise turned to indignation and anger. "Gary, you're such a little rat, how dare you sneak up on me this way?"

He moved closer to her, laughing. "Well, aren't we indignant, my cute, little blonde. Sneaking up on you? Hell, I wanted to find out what perverted game you was playing with our horse." He put his hand on her shoulder and snickered. "Now I found out--they call it bestiality and it's a crime."

Monica knocked the man's hand off her shoulder determined not to be intimidated by him. She had always avoided Gary Willis, considering him an annoying alcoholic. She now looked at him with distaste, taking in his ferret-like face and his rotund beer belly. "Gary, what I do is none of your business. Now, get out of here and leave me alone."

Gary moved in closer with a smirk on his face. "Come on, don't be that way, Monica. You'd be wise to be nice to me. Suppose I tell around town what you take the emperor out to the woods for." He laughed nastily. "You're sure going to be a joke around high school."

"You're already a joke, Gary. Who's going to believe you?"

Gary's face clouded in anger. He put his arm around the girl's shoulders, his fingers biting into her upper arm. As Monica began to protest Gary pulled her down on the grass and planted a wet kiss directly on her mouth.

Monica sputtered and stammered, "Damn you, Gary. What do you think you're doing?"

He tried another approach. "You're a cute chick, Monica. I don't care what you're doing with the Emperor if that's the way you get your kicks. But, honey, you ain't going to do anything with that hunk of salami." He gave her a lewd grin and grabbed his crotch with one hand. "But you'll like what I got here. What say you slip off them little shorts?"

Monica tried to shake off his grip and rise. "Are you crazy? I wouldn't let you touch me. Now let me go."

Gary wasn't about to comply--he had reached the point of no return. "Not likely--you and I are going to waltz."

The teenage girl made a valiant struggle and got up to one foot nearly getting away from the man, but not quite. Gary held on to her arm and his other hand, reaching for her breast, tore her light shirt. "Goddamnit, now I'm serious, you little bitch."

Up to now Marcus had stood steadily with his head lowered watching this pantomime with a look of slight puzzlement on his horse's face. His disposition had changed when the girl took her hand away from him and he hadn't welcomed the intrusion of the man. Marcus's ears lowered and drew back in a true sign of his wrath. He turned so that he faced the two humans struggling on the grass and pawed the ground as he whinnied.

Monica saw the dark missile hurdling directly at her and jerked desperately away from the man who held her. Gary also saw the dark shape and released his hold on the girl to side step and avoid being hit. He yelled out just as he realized the charge was being directed at him, but it was too late--the fast moving little horse's forehead hit Gary directly on the chest, propelling him back ten feet. The snap of two of Gary's ribs breaking was plainly audible.

The horse stood pawing the earth as Gary rose to one knee with a mixed expression of fear and bewilderment on his face. When he tried desperately to get to his feet the three hundred pound stallion was on him again. This time Marcus gave forth a long, loud whinny and rose nearly vertically on his rear legs to come down on the stunned man with both fore feet. One sharp hoof raked down Gary's face, cutting open the flesh on his cheek. The other hoof struck the man's shoulder, breaking his collar bone. Gary screamed.

Monica had fallen onto her back on the grass, not knowing Marcus had struck Gary. As she got into a kneeling position she saw the small horse stand on his rear legs and she heard Gary's scream. She jumped to her feet, yelling, "No, Marcus! No!"

The Emperor Marcus stood ten feet back from the fallen man. When he heard the girl's voice his lowered ears came to erect attention and he turned his head to look at her.

Monica came up beside the horse where she saw Gary lying on the grass with blood over one side of his face? Oh, God, he isn't dead... he can't be. No, his his lips opened to omit a low moan of pain. He was hurt badly, but she was unable to help him--she must get help. She sprang into action, dashing for Duke who munched grass a hundred yards away.

A moment later she was on Duke forcing him into a full gallop across the pasture. The little stallion galloped beside them, keeping up with his head held high and his dark mane flying, like the true little warrior he was.

They tore into the Willis yard throwing up gravel from the eight flying hooves. George Willis and Igor Minsky, a neighbor, were in the yard. George yelled , "What's your hurry, Monica?"

"Gary's hurt pretty badly. He's down by the creek--I'll show you." She took Duke's reins, rushing both horses into the nearby corral, then ran to jump onto the back of the pick-up truck George was driving.

They found Gary where she had left him. He was now making a futile effort to sit up and he appeared to be in shock, unable to talk. The two men got him into the back of the truck, both agreed they must get him to a hospital. George took a moment to cast a practiced eye over the site of the accident, then he came up to Monica. "The Emperor Marcus did this?"

It wasn't really a question, but Monica answered it as such. "Yes, he did."

George only nodded with no change of expression.

At the Willis house, Betty phoned for an ambulance. Monica felt distraught and helpless. She could do nothing and when the ambulance came she left, saying she would be back later.

George Willis's pick-up truck drove into the Barett yard towing a horse trailer, just before dark. Monica went to the kitchen door and saw the heavy-set man go to the back of the trailer and lead out a small, black stallion who immediately gave out a loud whinny. George led the horse over to the corral fence where he tied him.

Monica joined her father to go outside and the senior Barett inquired with concern, "George, how's Gary?" His daughter had told him of the incident, omitting the reason for the attack.

"Two ribs broken and he's banged up some." George turned to the blonde teenager. "Monica, you're crazy about the Emperor Marcus. Want to buy him? We can't keep him after what happened, besides he won't breed. You can have him for a hundred dollars. We're losing nine hundred, but it don't matter."

Harvey Bartlett opened his mouth to protest, but his daughter quickly interjected, "Oh, Dad, please, yes. Marcus is a perfect, little horse and he's so gentle around me. Besides, we have plenty of pasture."

Harvey relented grudgingly. "Well, Monica you're going to have to pay for him, as well as his feed."

The girl was elated. She hugged her father, then turned to George, extending her hand. "It's deal, Mr. Willis. I'm very sorry about Gary, I hope he's well soon."

When her father went into the house and George backed out of the driveway, Monica turned to the horse. He had his head turned, watching her with, what she thought was, a quizzical expression on his face. Monica leaned down and put her arms around his neck, hugging him, "Oh, my little emperor, I'm so glad you're here with me. How strange--they're branding you a criminal because you defended your lady's virtue."

[END]