Nobilissima (52 page)

Silence fell as a horn blared and everyone turned towards Theodosius.
 

“Our first order of business is to formalize our appointment of Placidia as Empress and to reinstate her title of Augusta,” he said. “Her son, Valentinian, will from now on be named Valentinian Caesar.”

Everyone in the chamber applauded, and I gave a small nod of thanks.

“Secondly, we are here to make preparations for war against the usurper. Ardabur, our most able Commander, is stationed in Thessalonica and will sail with an invasion force to Italia’s eastern coast. And his son, General Aspar, will lead his cavalry units overland, south through the Alps. We will force Johannes to separate his units into two armies, and that will give us the advantage. Victory will be ours.”

Chapter 48

The sea voyage to Italia was fast and uneventful, if uncomfortable. The memory of the black water invading the doomed vessel on our last voyage still haunted us all and I slept very little. Honoria cried incessantly and Valentinian wouldn’t leave his bunk. At the port he’d screamed and refused to board the ship and I couldn’t help noticing the raised eyebrows of the statesmen who had come to see us off. A war was being launched to save the throne for this child, and he was balking at the first step. I’d picked him up and carried him up the gangplank myself, while he kicked and beat his fists on my back. Little Claudia had tried to distract him by making faces at him, but nothing would halt his tantrums.

I’d decided to travel with only Aurelia, Marcus and Sylvia and a unit of bodyguards.
 
The rest of the household staff were to stay in Constantinople until the outcome of the confrontation with Johannes was known. Our ship was due to land within a few days at a port a day’s ride north of Ravenna. We were sailing a day or two behind the fleet of Ardabur, and would join him there once he had set up camp.

Despite our worries, the voyage passed smoothly enough and soon we were in the western Adriatic. But there, vestiges of a storm prowled overhead as our ship neared land. Black clouds scudded past and heavy rain soaked anyone who ventured up on to the deck. With great relief, I heard the shouts of the crew that land was in sight.

Pulling our cloaks around us, we disembarked and huddled together on the stone dock. No one was there to meet us, and Marcus went to find the harbormaster. He returned some minutes later accompanied by a rotund, red-cheeked man who worked in the harbormaster’s office. His face was somber and Marcus looked worried. “This is Basso,” he said. “And he has bad news.” He nodded at the man, giving him permission to speak.

“Augusta, it is an honor,” began Basso. “Three days ago, there was a big storm off the coast here and General Ardabur’s fleet was blown off course. Several of his ships were lost.”

“Lost?” asked Aurelia. “With the men on board?” She crossed herself. “Deus misereatur,” she said.

Basso nodded. “May He have mercy indeed. So many were drowned.”

“And Ardabur?” I asked, with fear roiling my stomach.

Basso looked down at his booted feet. No one wanted to give bad news to a member of the imperial family. “His ship and two others survived but were forced to land at Ravenna. We’ve been told that they were all taken prisoner by Johannes’s forces.”

I looked at Marcus. “Now what do we do?”

“For now, we will stay here and send for news both of Ardabur and of Aspar and his forces. Basso, we’ll need help in finding accommodation and in hiring couriers. Can we count on you?”

Basso nodded vigorously, clearly happy to be able to help after bringing such terrible news. “Please, come to my office so you are out of the rain. I’ll need just a little time to make all the arrangements.”

Before the sixth hour had tolled on the harbor bell, our group was escorted to a stately villa on the edge of the town. It was the home of the Prefect of the province, and he was delighted to offer us lodging and the use of his secretary and servants. Over dinner that evening, he made his feelings about Johannes quite clear and said he would be willing to do anything to assist me.
 

“Johannes has the support of Castinus, and therefore of the army,” he told us. “There has been little resistance from the general populace, and the Senate is divided. Several senators have resigned. I believe that many who have stayed on remain only in hope that you will succeed in regaining the crown, Augusta. There are a few, of course, who bend like reeds in the wind and pledge themselves to whomever is in power.”

He did all he could to make us comfortable but time passed slowly, the long days punctuated only by sporadic news. All attempts to negotiate Ardabur’s release had been met with blunt refusals, but a letter from him indicated that he was being treated well by Johannes, presumably in an attempt to ingratiate himself with Theodosius in Constantinople. Meanwhile, Aetius was traveling south with the Huns to join Castinus and his Roman army in preparation for battle with Aspar and his troops.
 

There were times when I felt I couldn’t bear the inaction any longer. Every day that Johannes sat on my throne was an insult that infuriated me. To be so close to Ravenna yet not able to return home was painful. I filled the time by corresponding with the senators who would support me and to the Bishops of Rome and Ravenna. I wrote letters to many of my former advisors and issued gifts of lands and titles to those who would most likely be in a position to help my cause.

Finally, we received news that Aspar had arrived in northern Italia and had taken the town of Aquileia in a surprise attack. Castinus and his army had mobilized and were heading north towards him from Ravenna.

“We must be there for the battle,” I said as soon as the courier had left. “We have at least a day’s advantage over Castinus. We can reach Aquileia before he does if we leave immediately.”

Marcus tried to dissuade me but I was adamant.

“We’ve come this far,” I said. “We can’t sit here in the countryside waiting for brave Aspar to fight on our behalf. We must be there to offer our support.”

“You were planning to go, but without us, weren’t you?” Aurelia said to Marcus, who looked guilty. “We won’t slow you down and we can be ready to leave within the hour.”

Filled with both dread and excitement, I hugged the children and said goodbye to Sylvia.
 

“Will I be the new ruler when you come back, mama?” asked Valentinian. “Will Marcus get rid of the bad man who is pretending to be Emperor?”

I told him yes, although it was impossible to guess what would happen in the coming days. All I could do was pray for success. I gave my son a last embrace and told him to be good and to look after his sister and Claudia.
 

The Prefect provided us with a light carriage that could move fast, and a small contingent of soldiers for protection. By mid-morning, we were traveling north, on roads that were little more than country trails of hard-packed earth, mostly used by farmers. But we made good progress, through countryside dotted by occasional villages where the residents came out to stare. We stopped once to change horses and reached Aquileia by early evening. There, we were escorted to the camp on the outskirts of the town.
 

At the gates of the camp, I got down from the carriage. The smell of the goatskin tents and of burning wood in the heating braziers instantly brought back vivid memories of my travels with the Goths. I felt at home in the familiar surroundings and strode between the rows of tents, each one precisely the same distance from the next. Our escort stopped in front of  the praetorium, the commander’s tent, over which flew the purple and white standard of the Eastern cavalry. There we waited for the guards to announce us. I looked towards the sun, which was setting over a dense forest beyond the camp.
 
As I watched, the golden globe was snared in a tangle of dark branches and held captive until its light faded. I shivered in the sudden chill of the evening and tugged my cloak closer around me.

The guards pulled back the flap of the tent to allow us to enter. Inside, several soldiers were leaning over a small folding table, which held a lamp and a map. The glow of the lamp illuminated colorful rugs and wool hangings and a few wooden stools and two chairs with seats of leather were arranged around the table. When the guard announced me, the soldiers looked up and stood to attention, and one of them came forward to kneel in front of me.

“Augusta, I’m Aspar. It is an honor to have you here,” he said.

“Please stand,” I replied. I introduced Marcus and Aurelia, and Aspar saluted them both.
 
“It’s a privilege to meet you, sir,” he said to Marcus. “Your reputation precedes you. My men will be excited to hear that you’re in the camp.”
 

“I hope I can be of some assistance,” replied Marcus, and Aspar gestured towards the table. “We can review the area maps and talk about the disposition of my units together,” he said. “But first, you must have some refreshments.”
 

As if by magic, servants appeared with goblets of wine and trays of cheese and figs.

Aspar was younger than I had imagined, but he was tall and well built, with heavily muscled arms. In spite of his youth, he exuded authority. His men seemed to hang on his words and he appeared to be completely at ease in his surroundings. He waited until everyone had a goblet of wine in their hand and announced a toast. “To Valentinian, our future Emperor.”

I was gratified by the enthusiasm of the soldiers, who shouted Valentinian’s name and downed their wine in one swallow.
 

Aspar finished his wine. “Augusta, we will find accommodations for you in the town. There is one inn of good repute and I can send my men to make arrangements for you there.”

“No, thank you,” I replied. “I am used to camp living and will be more than comfortable out here.”

Aspar bowed his head. “As you wish, Augusta.” He gave instructions for a tent to be prepared for Aurelia and myself, but he looked a little perplexed. Aurelia glanced at me and her eyes were dancing with amusement. My behavior often surprised people who didn’t know me well.

Two soldiers left to make the arrangements for my tent. Minutes later, a shout from outside and movement at the flap of the tent caught everyone’s attention and Aspar pulled a dagger from his belt with a barely perceptible twist of his wrist. A man entered and it was only when he walked into the circle of light cast by the lamps that I realized who it was.

“Felix!”

“Augusta,” he replied, bowing his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You’d better have the guards announce you next time or you will be dinner for the crows,” Marcus said to him, putting a knife back in his belt.
 

Felix clapped a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. Even a gentle tap from Felix could wind a man, and Marcus flinched under the impact.
 

“What are you doing here?” Marcus asked, after introducing him to Aspar.

Felix sat down on a small stool that quivered under his weight. “I was fighting in Glanum,” he said. “Nothing more than a little skirmish. We won of course. Then we heard news that General Aspar here was on his way to fight for Her Imperial Highness and I decided to come to offer our services. I’ve got a unit of five hundred men with me and thought we might be of some use.”

“I’m happy to see you again,” I said. “I have so much to ask you, about the Goths and how everyone is doing. But that can wait for some private time later. For now, thank you for being here.”

“Yes,” said Aspar. “We are grateful for your offer of assistance. After dinner, you, Marcus and I can go over our plans. My tribune will help you settle your men first.”

“Let’s do it quickly then,” said Felix. “Dinner will be welcome. I’m as thin as a pole.”

Marcus laughed. “If you’re thin, I’d hate to see a fat man.”

The following morning, I woke before the sun had risen. I had slept, but my rest had been disturbed by nightmares. I’d dreamed of knives and pools of blood and of men screaming in pain. And then Serena had appeared, pointing at me and shrieking that their deaths were my fault.
 
I rationalized that seeing Felix again had brought back buried memories of the night he had rescued me from the cell in Barcino and I hoped my dreams did not bode ill for the battle to come.

Chapter 49

The sun was inching its way up over the horizon when Aurelia and I made our way to Aspar’s tent. The camp was bustling with activity and we had to step aside several times to allow columns of armored soldiers to pass. The men marched quickly, their eyes straight ahead, and their shields and swords gleaming in the nascent light.
 

Marcus was already with Aspar, moving lead counters around on a map while Felix looked on, munching on a piece of bread.
 

Aurelia settled herself on a stool and watched, her chin on her hand. “Castinus and his troops are here,” Marcus said, moving a disc to a large open area on the chart. I went to peer over his shoulder.

“How do you know they are there?” I asked.

“We have patrols out in every direction,” he replied. “They bring back information on enemy locations, numbers and movements. They’re our ears and eyes. Without them, we’d be operating in the dark.”