Authors: Morgan O'Neill
“Aelia Galla Placidia, Queen of the Visigoths!” a guard announced.
Athaulf looked up, surprised. Placidia stood in the doorway, her smile hopeful, and her gaze for him alone. He felt a jolt to his gut, because he hadn’t seen such a sparkle in her eyes in a long while.
He rose as she drew near and then took her hands in his.
“Husband,” she spoke softly, “can you be persuaded to put away the things of state for an afternoon? I was hoping we might explore the hills together, just you and me. It is such a beautiful day, and … I’ve missed you so.”
Joy swept over him at her heartfelt words. He spotted a servant just outside the doorway, waiting with a blanket and a picnic basket. “Friends,” he said to his advisors, “our work is done for the day. Please meet me back here in the morning.”
Placidia lowered her head, a blush flaming her cheeks.
Holding her hand, Athaulf took the picnic things from the servant, and together he and Placidia left the castle. Guards joined them, as they must, but they knew enough to keep a respectful distance.
At first, they followed paths beaten into the earth by centuries of use, and the going was easy. Soon, however, the paths gave way to animal tracks, the hillside steepened, and climbing became more difficult.
Placidia hiked without speaking, and Athaulf was impressed with her stamina. Keeping a firm grasp of her hand, he made sure she didn’t falter. Finally, when they reached a crest, Athaulf stopped and pulled her to him, and together, they looked out over the trail they’d followed.
The castle and city lay below them, the azure sea sparkling in the distance, like a blanket of jewels spread out as far as the eye could see.
“It is beautiful!” Placidia exclaimed. “I wanted to seek the beauty of the hills with you, never imagining what we would see from up here.”
“I’m glad you thought of it, my love,” Athaulf replied, delighted by her happiness.
Placidia turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears that spoke more of love than loss. His heart swelled. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d seen that look. His own pain had made him unaware, until now.
“We’ve neglected one another,” he said, “haven’t we?”
Placidia nodded. “It suddenly occurred to me how much I’ve missed you — how much I’ve missed
us
.”
He leaned in and tenderly kissed her. “I, too. But it was understandable. Our hearts were broken.”
“And the scar will always remain, but we must heal, and you are my greatest salve.”
Smiling, he pushed a stray curl off of her forehead. “Do you remember the first time I tried to tame your hair?”
Placidia chuckled. “Yes, but there was no taming our hearts, was there?”
He grinned. “And the things you proposed … ”
“Athaulf!” she scolded, blushing deeply.
“I would gladly take you up on that now, sweet lady.”
She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “That is why I invited you up here, and why I insisted we bring a blanket. There is a bottle of wine in the basket, too.”
“You’ve thought of everything.” He held her close, breathing in her flowery scent.
“My only thought was for our love.”
Her eyes were smoldering, unfathomable depths, and he wanted to dive in. “Then perhaps we should follow this track down the other side of the hill,” he suggested. “I doubt you want us to share our love with the entire city.”
Placidia looked over her shoulder and giggled. “Indeed! If we can see them, the reverse must also be true. I’ll follow your lead.”
Athaulf nodded to his soldiers, who had been following a distance behind. “Take your ease, men. I’ll guard the queen from this point.”
With a smile, he took Placidia’s hand and led her down the other side of the crag.
• • •
Barcino’s open-air market was a glory to the senses, filled with color, gaiety, and captivating smells. Gigi smiled as the girls, dutifully holding on to hands or skirts, moved through the crowd, gawking at ribbons, scarves, and straw hats. She wondered what they would think of an American shopping mall, and decided this place would give one of those a run for its money.
Gigi and Vana held up the flanks, and three guards covered the rear, their eyes constantly moving, checking the crowds for any threat. But the crowds were well mannered, and soon each of the girls had a new hat tied to her head with bright ribbons.
“Gigi!”
She swung around, seeking the source of the familiar voice. The guards surged forward and took up defensive postures.
“Please, I know him!” Gigi exclaimed, holding out her hands. “Lucius! What are you doing here? How are you?”
The guards let him pass, and Lucius quickly embraced Gigi.
“My prospects were rather damaged in Vada Sabatia,” he shrugged with a grin. “It seems my assistance in your matter did little to soften the impact of what I had done. Despite the fact that I returned the boat to its owner, as Magnus requested, I am a wanted man — yet not at all wanted by my mother. She prefers we correspond via carrier pigeon until the antagonism dies down.”
Gigi laughed. “Well, I think we may find something for you to do around here.”
“No need,” he replied, glancing at Vana. He straightened to his full height and ran a hand through his unruly blond hair. “I am making a name for myself in more legal ways, these days. I have spent the winter plying routes in my new ship — it’s bigger than the other, and one I purchased. I’ve been able to make a very good living.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Gigi replied, sneaking a peak at Vana, and noticing a touch of heat on her cheeks. The kids had gathered around, too, curious about the new face.
“Let me introduce you. This is Magnus’s cousin, Lucius.” Gigi went through all of the names, and was pleased when Lucius nodded respectfully to each girl. She saved Vana for last, and was delighted when Lucius bowed.
Vana’s cheeks were deeply crimson by now, and Gigi was jolted back to caution when she noted a spark of fear in her eyes. Of course she was afraid! Gigi recalled only too well how badly she had suffered after her attempted escape from Honorius’s palace: gang rape by his guards, torture, and then the horrible branding.
“Is Barcino your homeport, Lucius?” Gigi said taking his arm and steering him to one side, in order to give Vana some extra breathing space.
Lucius seemed to have noticed Vana’s reaction, too, and he turned his full attention on Gigi. “For a time my homeport was Portus, with the larger islands being so close,” he said, “but a shipment brought me here last week, and,” he cast a glance at Vana, “I think I may stay. It is safer for me, and commerce is more reliable.”
Gigi smiled. He was smooth; she had to give him that. “Would you like to join us for a meal? The girls are getting hungry.”
Lucius turned to the girls and put his hands on his knees. “Do you like spicy or mild? I know a fellow who serves wonderful
lucanica
, just a few booths from here.”
Gigi’s stomach growled at the mention of the delicious pork sausage. Delighted, the girls began jumping with excitement.
“Well, then,” he said, “come along with me. I’ll buy each of you a sausage!”
He held out his hands, and Berga and Marga instantly took hold.
“Do you know any songs?” he asked the girls. “I’ve always thought food and singing should go together. Perhaps you could teach me … ?”
Gigi smiled at his easy, winning manner. No doubt he’d sensed Vana was shy, although he couldn’t possibly understand why.
The guy is wiser than I gave him credit for,
she thought happily, as she and Vana followed in his wake.
• • •
They had long since come down from the hills, seeking refuge on their private balcony overlooking the sea. It was a balmy night, the air salty and fresh, yet the light breeze also brought the wonderful scent of flowers blossoming throughout the gardens of Barcino.
Placidia let her gaze drift to the ocean. It was dark except for swaths of sparkles dancing in sea froth, a luminous counterpoint to the summer stars, fixed and twinkling above.
She smiled as Athaulf wrapped his arms around her and she nestled against him.
Placidia’s glance traveled back to the sky. “All of my life,” she said, “I have been captivated by the heavens. Do you suppose I was foreseeing this very moment in my heart? Is this why the stars have always called to me?”
Athaulf lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. “Until this moment I thought only
I
captivated you.”
She smiled. “I had one of the ceilings at my home in Ravenna tiled in mosaics of deepest blue, inlaid with golden stars, because they spoke to my heart, as if they were a part of my very soul. I know I will never see my ceiling again, but I can still look at the sky and pray, as I have since I was a child.”
“And what did you pray for at such a tender age, my love?”
“That I would one day find a man who treasures me.”
“And you have, for I do.”
Without another word, Athaulf lifted her up, his arms strong, his body powerful with intent, as he carried her off to their bed.
He settled her among the pillows and took her hands, kissing one palm, and then the other. “Sweet Placidia,” he said as he leaned in and softly kissed her lips.
“Sweet Athaulf.” And Placidia felt a new hope rise between them, their love as strong as ever, splendid and deep, yet more heartfelt than before.
As he moved upon her, she prayed the seeds sown this day would take hold and blossom, giving them more to love and cherish, so much more.
The Ides of August,
A.D.
415, Barcelona, Spain
Sergeric felt the summer heat radiating off the walls of Barcino. Surrounded by an escort party, he and Eberwolf rode toward the main gate.
He’d originally thought he would part company with the little man before entering Hispania, so no one would know they were connected. But his plan had been foiled when they’d encountered Frideger and Queen Verica crossing the pass into Hispania. From that moment on, they’d been escorted, with a courier sent ahead to let Athaulf know of their coming. Regardless, Sergeric was convinced their plan would still work. He just needed time and a bit of luck.
So far, so good,
he told himself.
He heard the jangle of jewelry and turned to see what Eberwolf was doing. A shift in his saddle and a glare were the man’s only responses.
Sergeric laughed and turned back to the gate. Eberwolf looked ridiculous in the
mimi
costume, but making him wear the clothes of a comical and womanish character was a stroke of genius. Constantius’s clowns had taught him the basics, and he’d quickly, if not enthusiastically, settled into his role. Sergeric was convinced no one in Barcino would guess the extent to which Eberwolf, too, lusted for Athaulf’s downfall.
Or suspect his skill as an assassin.
The city gate opened and they passed through, arriving moments later at the castle, where Athaulf, Magnus, and a strong bodyguard awaited his arrival.
The corner of Sergeric’s mouth twitched in amusement. As he’d expected, Athaulf-the-Soft gazed at him as though he’d recovered a lost dog, and Magnus-the-Slave-Fucker looked like he wanted to do murder on the very steps of the castle.
He dismounted, unsheathed his sword, and bowed low, placing the weapon at Athaulf’s feet. “My lord king, your most humble servant has returned. I am, as ever, at your service.”
• • •
Desperate to speak with Athaulf, Magnus paced the king’s private study, relieved to get him alone for a meeting. The attack could happen at any time. All the players were in place. He had to make his friend see the urgency of the moment, had to convince him to do something, anything, to keep Sergeric from acting.
Magnus swiped a nervous hand over his mouth, as Athaulf came in and shut the door.
“I think I can guess as to why you requested this conversation,” Athaulf said, putting a hand on Magnus’s shoulder. “But truly, you need not worry. I do not trust Sergeric any more than you, and my guards have been tripled for months, on your insistence.”
“And despite my months of warnings, despite the fact I told you he would come back, you welcomed him home!”
“I did not ‘welcome him,’ as you say. I allowed his return and took the sword he offered. He has ever been one of the Visigoth captains, first for Alaric, then for me. He is part of our inner circle, and yet now he has neither weapons nor power, and he is watched at all times. Until there is evidence of some crime, I cannot simply lock him up, or banish him.”
“Athaulf, you cannot be serious!” Magnus raged, and resumed pacing. “He is slime, a faithless cur! I assure you Sergeric is doing everything in his power to see you dead. Do you really think he can’t find himself a blade? How can you be so blind to the threat?”
“I am not blind to the threat, Magnus,” Athaulf replied. “Calm down.”
“How can I be calm when I know,
I know
, Sergeric is plotting your murder at this very moment.”
“You’ve claimed this for months, and yet you give no proof in your assertions. Are you holding back some information that would convince me, or might your hatred of the man be coloring your thoughts?”
Magnus stared at Athaulf. Of course he had information. He had
knowledge
, because somewhere in the future, it had already happened. “Please hear me,” he spoke quietly. “Think of all you have gained for your people. Think of your family. Think of Placidia, and the unbearable pain it would mean for her if Sergeric succeeds. And then think of the day after. The Visigoths destroyed. Your family, destroyed, and Placidia, in her grief, once again a pawn in Honorius’s evil game.”
He saw the muscles flex along Athaulf’s jawline, and hoped he’d finally gotten through, but when Athaulf responded, his voice was dark with anger, his eyes glinting.
“Don’t, for a moment, think I don’t hold my wife and family first in my considerations, or that I don’t realize that her protection is only as strong as the breath I draw.”
Magnus bowed his head. “I know you are not taking this lightly, I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. It’s just that I feel we are standing on the edge of a steep cliff, and even the most insignificant moment of inattention could prove fatal.”