Nobilissima (11 page)

Aurelia gave a small nod of acknowledgement and I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it hard for me to speak.

“You spoke of a plan,” I said after a long silence. “I can’t imagine what you intend to do with all these people. There’s no food. How can you sustain them?”

Alaric chewed on a piece of bread before answering. “There’s no food here, it’s true, but we’ll soon have control of the grain supplies from Africa and then we’ll not only have food for my people but an excellent bargaining chip with which to negotiate with the Emperor for the territories I have asked for.”

“Africa?” I said in surprise. “Africa is a well-defended province that won’t easily give up its food supply to you. How can you expect to succeed?”

Alaric took a gulp of wine. “In Sicilia I have more troops waiting with arms that we have secured from previous engagements, and a flotilla of ships that will take us to the north coast of Africa. My men are ready to fight and the stakes are high. I am confident of our success there.”

I played with a crumb of bread, rolling it between my fingers and looked up at him. His face was scarred from some previous skirmish and there was weariness in the way he held his head, but his clear blue eyes were sparkling like those of a young boy and held no sign of fear or defeat. He had survived years of battles, fighting alongside the great armies of Rome.

I had many questions for him, but was interrupted by the arrival of several soldiers. I noticed that they saluted Alaric politely and treated him with deference in spite of their rough dress and rude manners. They talked together in German.

“Some of the ransoms have been paid,” Alaric explained when the men had left the room. “And we are making arrangements for those hostages to be accompanied back to Rome. This is good news for them and for us and I hope to be able to release you two ladies as well, very soon.”

“You need more than ransom money, or even food, to look after your people,” said Aurelia, speaking for the first time. “You need a place to settle. You can’t continue this nomadic existence forever.”

“As you know, I’ve made demands for such a place,” he said bitterly. “If the Empire won’t grant me one, then I’ll take it for myself. Perhaps Africa will be to my liking.”

“Will you continue to negotiate with the Emperor for your settlement?” I asked.

Alaric laughed humorlessly. “Your brother won’t negotiate now that we’ve attacked Rome,” he said. “I knew I was taking an irrevocable step when we entered the gates, but I had no choice. I had been alternately ignored and insulted by the Emperor and his council to the point where it had become insupportable. And now, I fear, there is nothing to do but continue my battle against him. Unless you are able to persuade him to see my point of view?”

“Honorius is not inclined to be persuaded,” I answered. “And I certainly can’t see why he will change his mind now that, as you say, you’ve sacked Rome.”

Alaric looked pensive. “Commander Stilicho was a great man. Everything would have been different had he lived. His death was a tragedy for us all.”

“He respected you,” I said. “He would have paid your settlement and assigned the lands of Aquitaine to you. Which is why Olympius had him killed.”

I paused and could not help asking. “Is it true that Serena was working with you to enable you to take Rome?”

My stomach lurched as I asked the question. Aurelia looked at me sharply and I was reminded of the bitter quarrel we’d had over Serena’s death warrant.

“No,” said Alaric. “I haven’t spoken with her since Stilicho died. I knew that she supported the settlement plan but I was in no position to make contact with her.”

I felt sick and couldn’t look at Aurelia.

“I see,” was all I managed to say.

I was saved from further contemplation by the arrival of a group of people. One was Attalus, the pretender to the throne. He looked embarrassed when he saw me and bowed so low that his hair swept the floor.

“Nobilissima,” he stammered. I was puzzled. I hadn’t heard what had become of him after that meeting in Alaric’s tent, but hardly expected him to be traveling with Alaric.

“King Alaric has kindly taken me into his household,” Attalus explained. “I had nowhere else to go when, well, when I was no longer Emperor.”

I found myself smiling. Being Emperor for a week must have been a heady experience. Reduced now to being a retainer to the Goth king was quite a fall from grace.

“Alaric is very kind,” I said.

Alaric stood and presented the others. One was Ataulf, who had led us from the palace to the small room in Gardius’s villa. Holding his arm was a beautiful, fair-haired woman, dressed in a long blue linen tunic with an engraved gold pendant around her neck. Alaric took her hand and introduced her as his wife, Taiga. I didn’t catch the names of the various commanders and tribal chiefs who made up the rest of the party.

Ataulf and Taiga sat next to Alaric and began to talk in low voices, while the other men gathered around the table and poured themselves goblets of wine. After a few minutes, Taiga looked over at me. “Will you stay and eat with us? There is not much food, but we’re doing the best we can and there’ll be fresh-baked bread tonight. Our men have the oven fired already.”

“I think we should leave,” I began, but Aurelia interrupted me.

“We’d be delighted to eat with you,” she said.

Aurelia leaned over and whispered to me. “I think it’s best to cultivate Alaric’s friendship and that of his wife,” she said. “We aren’t in a position to be rude and refuse their offer of a meal. You must watch out for yourself and stay close to Alaric and his family for safety. Even your father would have recommended such a course of action.”

“Very well,” I agreed. She was right.

Talk at the table stopped, interrupted by the sound of horses’ hooves and an outburst of shouting and laughing. A short time later, seven or eight barbarian soldiers entered, led by a huge man with long fair hair left unbound. He wore a tunic made of animal skins stitched together, and the long trousers favored by the Goths. A number of gold bracelets encircled his arm. From his belt hung a sword in a jeweled scabbard that had certainly been stolen from a wealthy Roman, and an assortment of short knives. His face was crossed with several scars including one that ran from his eye to his chin, giving him a leering expression that only made him more terrifying to look at.

He found a place at the table and laid a silver dagger down in front of him. His hands were huge, with dirt ingrained in the skin. A servant came in with a plate of bread and he leaned over and took a piece without waiting for anyone else.

“Sigeric,” Alaric said. “Meet Aelia Galla Placidia, daughter of our late Emperor Theodosius.”

Sigeric glanced at me as he pulled the piece of bread apart with his teeth, and he grunted but did not stop chewing. The conversation round the table resumed and eventually Sigeric stopped pushing handfuls of food into his mouth and took a long gulp of wine. He belched loudly and turned his chair to look at me, gazing at me from head to toe as though I were a slave for sale at the market.

“Nice,” he said, nodding approvingly, and I hoped that would be the full extent of the conversation.

“Married?” he asked. I pretended I hadn’t heard him and moved to pick up my goblet of wine. To my horror, he grabbed my wrist and held it tightly.

“I asked if you are married,” he said again. There was a sudden silence at the table.

“No,” I replied. “Please let go of me.”

Ignoring my request, he squeezed my arm and continued his open appraisal of me.

“You’re a virgin then?” he asked. Horrified and shamed, I stared at him and jerked my wrist away, knocking over my cup of wine. For a moment, I watched, mesmerized, as the dark red liquid ran across the table and dripped over the side on to my gown.

Coming to my senses, I stood. “We’re leaving. Come on, Aurelia.”

“Don’t go,” said Sigeric. “It’s just a little wine. I can lick your clothes clean for you.”

“Enough,” said Ataulf, standing suddenly. “Sigeric, get out, unless you can behave in a more civilized way.”

Sigeric picked up the dagger from the table and held it in front of him, point upwards. It glinted in the candlelight.

“I’ll fight you for her,” he said. Ataulf pulled out a knife from his belt and held it up for all to see. Several soldiers appeared from the shadows behind him and drew their swords.

I took a deep breath. “Stop it, both of you.”

Alaric put his hand out to touch his brother’s arm.

“Put that away. There’ll be no fighting here. Sigeric, leave and make sure the men are told of our plans for tomorrow. Ataulf, sit down and stop snorting like a mad bull.”
 

Sigeric stood up, pushing his chair back so hard that it fell to the floor. He stared at Alaric.

“I’m sick of you protecting your brother-in-law,” he snarled. “I should kill you both and lead this army the way it’s supposed to be led. We should be turning back to fight the Romans, not running to the south and worrying about food.”
 

“Get out,” ordered Alaric again, holding up his hand to stop one of his guards from lunging at Sigeric. For a few seconds, there was silence before Sigeric threw one last furious glance at Ataulf and strode out of the room, followed by his henchmen.

“I am sorry for his behavior,” Alaric said. “Sit down, everyone.”

“Who is he?” I asked.

“A problem,” said Ataulf.

Alaric interrupted. “He’s a general in our army and the chief of a tribe of men who are very loyal to him. He’s a good warrior and does more than his share of fighting on our behalf.”

Taiga looked worried, her face pale. “He’s out of control. Every day, he spreads rumors and gossip through the camp. He’s bad for the morale of the men, and he’s dangerous.”

Alaric stroked her cheek gently. “You worry too much,” he said.
 

As everyone sat down again, Alaric continued. “Sigeric and his men rode ahead today and have found some farms that still have a few crops growing, so we’re going to move on tomorrow after all.”

“The people are exhausted,” I said. “They could do with a rest before marching again.”

Alaric either didn’t hear me or pretended not to. He was soon deep in conversation with Ataulf and his generals and I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me. When I stood to take my leave, Ataulf told two of his men to accompany me back to the carriage. I was grateful, nervous of another encounter with the hateful Sigeric.

When we reached the carriage, Sylvia was awake and waiting for us.

“Did you eat dinner?” she asked. “I thought of you tucking into a feast fit for an Emperor. Was there roast pig, fish with sauce, and tiny grilled sardines?”

“We had bread and cheese,” I said. “And if you talk about food any more, I’ll have to throw you out of the carriage.”

Together, we arranged the pillows and rugs to be as comfortable as possible and pulled the curtains across the windows.

It was hard to sleep with the constant noise of thousands of people talking, coughing and moving around outside. Even so, I managed to doze for a few hours, waking as the first rays of light showed grey in the east.

An hour later, Septimus came by. “I heard that we’re moving on,” he said. “But several hundred hostages are to start heading back north under escort. Their ransoms are paid. That includes the lady you’re traveling with, if you would be good enough to tell her.”

I was puzzled and then realized he was talking about Justinia.

“She’s dead,” I said.

Septimus looked shocked. “I’m sorry to hear that. Not of disease, I hope? I would dread to think of her being so close to you?”

I shook my head. “She died of grief.”

Soon, the carriage lurched into motion again and we settled into the now familiar routine of the journey. When we arrived at the fields where Sigeric’s men had found the crops, a party of men and women were dispatched to pick everything. The procession moved on at a snail’s pace, along roads that were now little more than dusty tracks through a landscape that was brown and parched from lack of water.

The days began to merge together, the road like a giant scroll gradually unrolling ahead of us. We were constantly hungry, thirsty and bone-tired from the jolting and rattling of the carriage. As we traveled further from Rome, I wrestled more and more with my emotions, feeling the distance from my beloved city as a tightening in my chest that almost stopped my breathing. But I kept up a pretense of cheerful optimism for the sake of Sylvia and Aurelia, and also for myself. I didn’t want to give into the dark thoughts that kept me awake at night.

The procession slowed as it climbed a long winding road that bypassed the great city of Naples. The guards were more in evidence and groups of Goth soldiers on horses patrolled back and forth. It was obvious that they were expecting trouble of some kind and I prayed that the garrison in Naples would launch an attack. As I leaned out of the carriage to look for any sign of an assault, I saw the massive cone of Vesuvius looming over the beautiful bay. A thread of smoke rose into the blue sky, but it was impossible to imagine the devastation the volcano had unleashed on the citizens of Pompeii just a few hundred years earlier.