After the Fall (16 page)

“Stop it,” Gigi demanded. “You can’t talk like that. What can be so bad, so shameful? You spent months looking for me. I don’t see the shame in that. It sounds courageous and noble.”

“Perhaps it was … I was … at first. I did search, endlessly, but to no avail. Never to any avail.”

“That’s because Randegund lied to you,” she said, her anger flaring over the witch’s deceit. It was a good thing Alaric and Verica were keeping her well out of sight these days.

“True, it wasn’t my fault, but at the time I blamed myself, and because of that, I did things, I allowed things to happen, I even pursued … ” Magnus paused. “I used it as an excuse for all manner of excess, because I didn’t want to know any more. I didn’t want to think, or remember, or feel anything. It hurt too much.”

Gigi shook her head, uneasy.
I finally have him talking
, she thought ironically,
and now I don’t want to hear another word.
Apprehensive about what was coming next, she held her breath for a moment and then asked, “Such as?”

“Drinking, at first. Nearly constant drinking,” he muttered. “I visited with my uncle and his family for a time, and he was very gracious and encouraging, but he was whole, and I was not. I didn’t want to see his contentment again, so I left without saying a word.

“Once I was on the streets, my money held out for a time, but after weeks of debauchery, I did what I had to, to keep the drink coming. I sold my armor — I remember that — but then my memories fade.”

Gigi had wondered about his missing armor, but there was an even greater question, and she feared the answer. “What happened to Agrippa?”

Magnus swung his legs out of the bed and sat up, his back to Gigi. He shook his head as if loathe to speak. “One morning, right toward the end, I woke up sick from too much drink and realized Agrippa was gone. I couldn’t remember if I’d sold him, or if he’d been stolen. I still don’t have any idea, but I had money in my pocket for the first time in weeks, so I must assume I sold my old friend. I keep imagining him strapped to a plow somewhere, whipped and abused, where once he’d been so proud and strong.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat, struggling to finish. “He saved my life more than once, and now, frequently, I wake up fearing I might have sold him to a … to a meat vendor.”

“Oh, no,” Gigi whispered in sorrow. She placed her arm around Magnus, hugging him, wanting to reassure. His skin felt cold, and he was trembling. “What can we do? Is there some way to find him?”

“No, he’s gone.”

It was what she expected to hear, but she went on anyway, “But what about your uncle? Couldn’t he — ”

“No, Gigi, no. Agrippa’s gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Gigi shuddered, as much from his bitter tone as from the chilly air. Reaching for the blankets, she said, “Get back under the covers, Magnus. Come back to bed.”

“No.” He stopped her hand. “There’s more, much more. For a time, I thought perhaps you’d gone back into the sparkling mist that brought you here, and I was desperate with the pain of losing you forever. So, I did things, things I’m not proud of.”

Magnus’s voice was so devoid of emotion, she realized she did not want him to go on, feared he was just getting to the crux of his heartache.

She looked into his eyes. “No more, please. It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. Please, Magnus, I don’t — ”

“You must know everything, Gigi. I won’t live under a falsehood. Afterward, the decision will be yours, whether to stay or go.”

“What? No! Stop it, Magnus,” Gigi said, sudden tears filling her eyes. “Don’t you dare! I made my choice when we married. How can I — you thought I was dead, and I get it, but I don’t want to hear it. Not another word.”

“Gigi, I will not lie — ”

“Stop!” She took his face in her hands. “I love you, and I’m no idiot, and I love you. That’s all either of us needs to know. If you say another word, I swear I’ll start screaming.”

They stared at each other for several seconds, then, still holding him, Gigi took a long, calming breath. “It isn’t lying and it’s obviously no longer your dark secret, but I don’t want specifics. I don’t want details. If you unburden yourself, if you insist on this, then I am the one who will carry the burden forever. I have a vivid imagination, Magnus, and it will be inside my head for the rest of my life. Did she do it like this? Did you get turned on when she — ”

“Gigi!”

“So, now you don’t want to hear it,” she persisted.

“No,” he admitted.

“Good,” she dropped her hands and forced a smile, “and please understand, given the circumstances there is nothing to forgive, but I do understand. I really do.”

Magnus shook his head, then kissed her brow. “I need some fresh air.” Getting up, he slung one of the furs over his shoulders for warmth and headed out of the tent.

Gigi watched him leave, and when the flap fell back into place, she started to shake, but not because of the cold. Silent tears fell, and she dropped onto the bed, his words and their significance running through her mind.

With sudden insight, she knew that for now he needed her to be strong for both of them. And he needed her forgiveness, wanted to hear the words, even if she couldn’t listen to what he’d done, who he’d been with …

Another thought jolted her back to the moment.
What is he doing? Could he … ?

Gigi got up and shoved her feet into her boots, grabbed her cloak and went out into the cold, wet night. Constantly wiping her face clear of pelting rain, she searched the common gathering places, then the alleyways between nearby tents. Running wildly, she splashed through puddles, looking everywhere, growing more frantic with each empty turn. Where was he?

Gigi halted at the edge of the camp, gasping for air. She saw his silhouette, black against the mist of rain, looking north over the Bay of Naples toward Capri, a place he loved. He must have heard her approach, for he glanced at her, but made no move in her direction.

“Magnus, why are you out here?” she asked. “Why are you punishing yourself like this? You can’t just say stuff like that and then leave when I get upset. Give me a few moments, at least, before you run off to fall on your sword.”

He looked at her curiously, then crossed his arms and turned back to the sea. “I did not kill myself when I feared you were lost to me forever, Gigi. I hadn’t planned on killing myself now.”

“Damn you, Magnus! Are you feeling sorry for yourself? Don’t tell me — you’re mad because I’m not letting you tell me every crude detail?” She got in his face and forced him to look at her. “Go confess your sins to Victoria if you want absolution on specifics, but don’t expect it from me!”

“I’m not expecting absolution, Gigi. I have hated that you looked at me with such love, love I didn’t deserve.”

“But … ” She took a deep breath, trying to focus her thoughts, because her next words were critical to their future. “You’re not the one who gets to decide whether you deserve my love or not — that’s my prerogative.” Gigi drew the sodden cloak around her and then reached up to touch his face. “I’m sorry your grief drove you so far. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you. Please, Magnus, I forgive you. I love you.”

She fell quiet and he gazed at her, then nodded slightly, his expression relaxing into the barest of smiles.

“As you will,” he said, “but the next time you run after me, all worked up and in a fright, first look to my weapons. Both my blades are still in the tent and plain to see. Besides, I made you a promise never to fall on my sword, and you may rest assured my oath binds me forever.” He took her hand and kissed her ring. “I believe Victoria has guided me from the day you arrived in the baptistery, Gigi. It was my goddess who caused you to have the ring and brought you back in time. It was also Victoria who extricated me from a vile and unworthy emperor, whom I served because of a deathbed promise to his father, a good man who never guessed his young son would grow into a murderer without conscience.”

“Magnus, I can’t pretend to know why I’m here, but if it freed you from Honorius, then I’m glad.”

He took her into his arms. “It was more than that, so much more.” He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that warmed her to her core. “I know now that my mission in life is to protect you. You are my wife, the only woman I have ever loved, and I will always stay by your side, no matter what happens. Shall we escape to the ends of the Earth, to that unknown continent of yours? Victoria will surely help. I shall make sacrifices to her at dawn. I will seek her guidance for a new start, asking the Fates to smile down upon us now and forever.”

“Whatever happens, I love you, Magnus. I always will.”

She nestled against him, willing herself to happiness, hoping it would turn out like they wanted, and that fate would be kind.

• • •

Honorius held his bird in his lap, cooing into her ear, “Ah, Rome, dearest pet, the city for which you were named has been destroyed. We must ask our astrologers what it portends, for you are precious to us.” Hollow-eyed, he looked up at Sarus. “General, we would ask that you fetch our conjurers on your way out of our chambers.”

Sarus stood there, feeling the crushing weight of contempt for Honorius, for much still needed to be discussed, including what should be done about King Alaric.

“Rome sacked!” Honorius started sniffling. “We would blame Olympius for this, but he is dead … dead. Oh, who is to blame? Who failed us?”

The emperor started blubbering and Sarus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He feared his life teetered on a knife’s edge. Olympius had been cruelly executed on a whim by Honorius, his ears cut off before he was clubbed to death in front of the entire court. Stilicho had been killed, too, as had so many others, too many.

Am I next?
Sarus wondered, knowing full well once Honorius was done with his weeping, he’d lash out, placing blame on …

He let his breath out slowly, and then lowered himself to one knee, his hand over his chest. It was time to play his hand.

“O, Great Honorius, I have heard through my brother, Sergeric, that much more has happened in Rome. Prepare yourself, my lord, for the news is dire.”

Honorius gaped, his fears unmasked. Sarus clung to his hope the little worm would finally give him leave to wreak vengeance against the man he blamed for the death of his wife and children, the one who had stolen the kingship from him, that bastard, Alaric. But would Honorius act against the news, or lash out against the messenger?

“What more?” the emperor’s voice was a raspy whisper as he placed his bird on the floor and shooed her away. “Tell us, Sarus.”

“Quintus Magnus returned to Rome just before the sack.”

“Magnus?” Honorius’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

Sarus nodded. “You know I had spies tailing him in Constantinople.”

“Indeed, and we were quite vexed when your men could not find the right moment to slip him poison.”

“
Venerabilis
, for that I apologize, but they lost track of Magnus after he sold his stallion to the horse master of the royal court. Magnus disappeared for months after that, only to show up in Rome. He and Gigiperrin were with your sister when she was taken hostage by Alaric’s brother-in-law, Athaulf. It is said Magnus and the bitch flute player engineered your sister’s capture, and Sergeric told me Athaulf and Placidia now share a tent — ”

With a howl, Honorius grabbed Sarus by the throat. “What did you say? Is she fucking him?” he roared.

Sarus couldn’t speak, tried to get hold of Honorius’s hands, to push away and free himself. Suddenly, several of the imperial guards rushed into the room, and Sarus was knocked flat to the floor. Axes flashed, swam before his eyes, and he felt icy-cold metal pressing against his neck, the sting of the first cut. He was dead.

But Honorius blared, “Idiots, stand down! Let him go!”

Sarus was freed, then pulled to his feet by one of the guards.

Fingers trembling, he rubbed his neck, wiping away a trickle of blood.

Honorius was smiling as if nothing untoward had happened. “Come, General,” he said, “we must put our heads together and hatch a plan. We were thwarted once before, but now it is time. We must kill our enemies —
all
of them — without delay. As for our sister, well, once she’s brought home … in chains, perhaps, indeed, chains would be appropriate, we shall mete out her punishment. And then we’ll hand her over to Constantius for marriage.”

Honorius nodded, an exultant look in his eyes. “For too long our sister has acted willfully, not keeping to her place, and now she is no longer chaste. We intend to bring her low,” he grinned, “by finding a way to cleanse her of the barbarian seed, perhaps supplanting it with the purity of Rome.”

The emperor’s gaze grew unfocused, and he touched himself.

The blame had been passed on to others. Sarus swallowed heavily in relief, but then shame swept over him as he recalled young Placidia’s sweet gaze.

He closed his eyes, trying to force visions from his mind, depraved visions.

Heaven help the princess!

• • •

Athaulf stood outside his brother-in-law’s tent, listening to him cough. As with so many in camp, it had gone on for weeks, although his fever had abated some time ago. “Alaric, it is Athaulf. I would have a word.”

“Come — ”

Another fit of coughing interrupted the king’s words, but Athaulf didn’t wait. Asking leave to enter was only a formality. He found Magnus inside with Alaric, looking contented and thoughtful, but Verica and his mother were elsewhere. Perfect.

“Take your ease before me, brother.” Clearing his throat, Alaric smiled and raised his golden goblet. “Get something to drink, and then pull up a chair.”

Athaulf grabbed some beer and sat next to Magnus, then toasted the health of both men.

They all drank in silence, until Alaric wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “So, how goes the, er, peace negotiations between the noble Visigoth prince and Rome’s fairest, er, maid?”

“Don’t make light of this,” Athaulf said seriously. “I want to marry her before our next move, and since officially she is our enemy, I feel I need your blessing upon the union, for the good of all. Otherwise, some might take it as an insult, and she might not be welcomed as she should.”