Nobilissima (8 page)

“How dare you touch me? I am the Emperor’s sister,” I shouted at him. “Leave us alone!”

The man just laughed, baring large, yellow teeth. In the strange light, his eyes burned red. He bent his head towards my face but I pulled back and managed to scratch his cheek deeply with the ruby ring I wore. Distracted by the gleam of the stone, he let go of me and grasped my hand, sliding the ring from my finger.

“Any more where that one came from, girl?” he asked, in Latin. His accent was strong and it was hard to understand him, but his meaning was clear. I nodded, hoping that my chest of jewels would distract him. Moving towards my dressing table, I indicated a large inlaid box. The soldier still gripped my arm tightly while placing the ruby ring in a rough hide pouch he wore on his belt. He reached out his hand greedily to take the box. His stench was overpowering: a mix of sweat, dirt and blood. There were red stains on his tunic and spatters on his arms and face. I was gratified to see that the scratch I had inflicted was bleeding as well, but it seemed to give him no trouble.

Suddenly, the vile soldier let go of me and stood straight. A tall man had entered the room, and all the soldiers stepped back to let him pass. Outside, the clamor of iron against iron continued unabated, accompanied by screams and shouts of anger and pain, but the room fell silent.

The tall man came closer until I could see him clearly in the red glow. It was Alaric and he was followed by his brother-in-law, Ataulf. Both of them were dressed in Roman uniforms and held unsheathed swords in their hands.

“Get out!” Alaric yelled at the men. None of them moved. His companion turned and waved his sword towards the door.

“Go,” he said in a low voice.

Reluctantly, the barbarians started to move towards the splintered doors. My captor let go of me and started to walk away but Alaric held out his hand.

“Give me the box,” he said. “There’s plenty more for you to take. Go find it.”

The odiferous Goth glared at me and then at Alaric but gave him the coffer without saying a word. Alaric handed the box back to me.

“It’s too heavy to carry with you,” he said. “So take out what you want and leave the rest behind.”

I started to speak, but he interrupted me. “Your tribune did well to find us and you are lucky we came so quickly. We must take you with us to a safe place. I can’t control the passions of my men indefinitely. We’ve waited for this night for so long.”

I stared at him in contempt. “Yes, waited to kill, loot and rape. Is that all you are capable of, finally?”

Ataulf took a step forward as if to defend his leader, but Alaric put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “It is only right for you to be angry. I am angry too that it has come to this. But we can talk another time. Now, we must leave and take you and your companions to a safe place.”

“What are you going to do with us?” I demanded. Neither of the men spoke for a minute. Outside the room, close to the door, there was a clatter, the rattle of metal on stone and a volley of shouts.

“Bring what you need and come quickly,” commanded Alaric urgently.

Aurelia ran to bring Sylvia, and the three of us grabbed several cloaks and a few robes. I took a handful of jewelry from the box, including the diadem my father had given me when I was a child. Sylvia rolled it all into a bundle and took my hand. Aurelia snatched up a few things, and wrapped them in a cloak. Huddled together, we followed Alaric and Ataulf, who were deep in conversation. Outside the great doors, the halls still teemed with barbarians, who slashed at a few remaining Roman guards.

We made our way through the great central hallway that led to the atrium. I saw two bearded giants pushing at a great statue of my father, heaving against it until it fell with a gut-wrenching crash to the floor. They laughed and ran further down the hall, swiping at busts and urns with their swords and whooping with joy when their targets fell in an explosion of shattered marble. Hurrying after the Goth king and Ataulf down the main hall, I stepped over bodies and chunks of stone and tried hard not to look at the blood on the floor, at the severed limbs and heads. I wanted to stop and be sick, but fear helped to keep me moving. A piercing scream from somewhere near the kitchens made my heart pound even harder and I felt the blood throbbing in my temples.

At last, Alaric stopped and turned to us. “Go with my brother, Ataulf, and he will take you to safety in a villa close by. I’ll join you there.”

He saluted, spun on his heel and disappeared into the darkness at the end of the hall.

I looked at Ataulf, who smiled wryly. “As if I have nothing better to do but nursemaid you three,” he said. “We can’t risk walking out the front way, so one of you’ll have to tell me how to get out.”

Sylvia spoke, and her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “I can show you.”

Ataulf unsheathed a dagger and followed Sylvia, a weapon in each hand. The corridors were dark, all the lamps broken. Here and there, furniture or drapes had caught fire and the crackling flames provided the only light. We passed the top of a stairway that led down into pitch blackness and Sylvia whispered to Ataulf to stop. Her voice trembled when she spoke.

“It is a back stairway to the kitchen gardens. There is a door down there, but it’s usually locked.”

Without a word, Ataulf descended the steps and we followed close behind him. When we came to the narrow door at the bottom, he turned the handle but it was locked as Sylvia had said. He told us to back up a few paces, and then ran at the door, pushing hard with his shoulder until the door gave way with a crash that made us all jump. We crept along a cold stone passageway that dripped water and was covered with green moss, and finally emerged in the gardens near to one of the great ponds.

The glow from the fires illuminated the garden and it was lighter outside than it had been in the palace. I immediately recognized where we were and pointed to a small gate in the exterior wall, the one I had used to steal out to the meeting with Alaric just a few days earlier.

“That gate lets out on to the road,” I said.

We hurried towards it, our steps echoing on the stone paths. Something caught at my gown and I shuddered with terror, but it was only a branch of a rose bush and I pulled the fabric clear, hurrying to keep up with Ataulf.

The gate was already broken from its hinges and Ataulf kicked it aside so that we could pass. As we were about to step out into the narrow alleyway, he pushed us back roughly. Two horses galloped by, their hooves striking sparks on the cobblestones. On one, a Goth soldier held a terrified looking woman in front of him, clasping her tightly. They turned a corner out of sight and Ataulf gestured for us to follow him. Quietly, he led the way to a path that wound up to the villa that belonged to Gardius.

The climb up the path seemed to last forever. The din of fighting still rose from the city streets, punctuated by screams and oaths. I was breathless from the fast walk, jumping at every shadow and at the sound of the little stones on the path that skittered away under my feet.

We entered the garden of the villa through a small gate similar to the one at the palace. The gardens were illuminated by lamps and the windows of the villa also glowed with light. I saw hundreds of soldiers, all Goths, bustling to and fro, many of them laden with loot from their assault on the city. Some of them eyed us curiously when we walked past but none spoke to us.

When we entered the villa, I saw that the hallways were almost blocked with piles of furniture, gold plate and other valuables. Servants ran from room to room, carrying jugs of wine and platters of food but there was no sign of Gardius or his family.

“Whoever lived here knew how to live well, even in the midst of siege and rationing,” commented Ataulf.

“It was one of the senators. What has happened to him and his family?” I asked, fearing the answer.

Ataulf shrugged. “I didn’t see anyone. They must have fled before we got here. Many of your neighbors here escaped. I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“I chose to stay,” I said coldly.

I was surprised at how well he spoke, like his brother, with barely a trace of an accent.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said. “Follow me.” He started to walk down a long hallway and motioned to four tall Goth soldiers to accompany him. Their hair hung in long blonde braids and their tunics were torn and filthy. Together, we reached the end of the hallway and Ataulf stopped outside a closed door. Pushing it open, he waited for us to enter.

The room was small, poorly lit with a few oil lamps, and sparsely furnished with a bed and a couch. There was a shuttered window, and a tiny square opening high in the wall that showed the sky still orange from the fires. I guessed it had been a steward’s room. Shivering, I watched as Ataulf murmured some instructions to the guards. Then he turned to us again. “The guards will allow no one to enter but Alaric and myself. I will send food up to you.”

“But,” I started, and stopped when his expression turned to one of deep suffering.

“Yes, my lady? “

“What are you going to do with me? I am Galla Placidia, sister of the Emperor.”

“I am aware of that, Nobilissima. You don’t think we would give such grand quarters to just anyone, do you?” He smiled, but I could not smile back.   

“You are to be a hostage,” he said. “Your brother will pay a good ransom for you and you will be returned unharmed within a few days. Your friends here will be hostages too, and I’m sure that your brother will pay for their release also.”

Hostages.
I was outraged.

“You can’t take Roman nobility as hostages. “

“Indeed? There you are quite wrong. We have hundreds of hostages held all over the city. Their friends and families will pay the ransoms and they’ll go free. As long as they all meet our demands, none will be harmed.”

“But wait, tell me more. What about the Bishop and the priests? Have you harmed them? Have you taken them hostage?”

“We have not harmed the clergy. Most are safe in their churches and monasteries. Now, I beg your pardon but I have some urgent matters to attend to.”

I sat on the bed and Aurelia wrapped one of the cloaks around me. In spite of the summer heat, the room was chill and I felt numb to the bone. It was a strange anticlimax to be suddenly alone in the quiet room. Noises from outside were muffled and indistinct.

On a sudden impulse I jumped up and went to the window but the shutters were locked from the outside and there seemed to be no way of breaking them open.

“Pull the couch over here,” I said to Aurelia and Sylvia. They looked at each other briefly but quickly pulled the couch under the window. Standing on it, I could just reach the sill of the opening above but it was too high for me to see out or pull myself up. Despondent, I hitched my gown up so that I could jump to the floor. Noticing that there was blood on the hem, I let it go suddenly. The sight of the blood brought hot tears to my eyes.

“Poor Rome,” I said quietly. “Our noble city sacked and despoiled, her streets awash in blood.” I put my hands in front of my eyes to try shut out the images of violence that I had seen while Sylvia and Aurelia held each other in silence.

Chapter 10

We pushed the couch back away from the wall and Aurelia and I sat together while Sylvia paced the room as though measuring the dimensions, muttering under her breath.

There was a loud knock at the door, and a Goth soldier opened it without waiting for an answer. He said something unintelligible and allowed a young girl to enter. She was carrying a tray of wine and food. Her face was pale, her eyes round and large and there was a smear of soot on one cheek. She curtsied delicately and put the tray on a small table near the couch. I recognized her as one of the senator’s servants.

“Are they treating you well?” I asked her and the girl looked at me in astonishment, as though I had just materialized from the wall. I guessed that she wasn’t used to being spoken to by her employers.

“Yes, Nobilissima,” she stammered. “My father is a German, though he has fought for Rome for nearly ten years. The Goths are taking anyone of German birth into their household and army. They told me I’d be safe here.”

“I am glad of it,” I said gently.

“I hope you enjoy the food,” replied the girl. “It’s running out quickly, but they said you were to have as much you wanted.”

I thanked her and waited for her to close the door.

“Sylvia, Aurelia, eat something,” I said. “We’ll need all our strength to survive the coming days, I suspect.”

“Marcus will come to find us,” said Aurelia. “We will be free soon, I am sure of it.”

Sylvia poured some wine into the three goblets on the tray and we each took one.

“I drank from this goblet once before,” I said, looking more closely at the etched glass. “I was invited to a banquet here to celebrate Gardius’s daughter’s betrothal. There was music and poetry reading and everyone talked of the great philosophers of Rome. It was just last year and now it seems like a century ago. Is that life going to disappear forever?”

Aurelia put down her goblet, and embraced me. “I doubt that our lives will ever be the same again,” she said. “But Honorius will send his armies when he hears of this insult to Rome. We’ll drive out the barbarians and reinstate law and order. We just have to be patient.”