Read The Songs of Slaves Online
Authors: David Rodgers
The cavalry leader cast aside his shield and sheathed his
spatha.
Valia sheathed his sword. With a chiding cry of joy from both men, they embraced.
Connor
watched,
mouth open, as the two men slapped each other on their armored backs and laughed. Now that he was dismounted and had put his sword away, the cavalry leader did not look much bigger than Valia. The general was the first to turn towards his men and make the universal sign to lower their weapons. He then unstrapped his magnificent helmet and pulled it off his head. Blonde hair tumbled down, and as he shook it out of his face Connor saw what might have been a
vision of a future Valia – a few years older, a few more scars, but the familiar aspect of thoughtful confidence even bigger as the stranger smiled broadly.
“
Salve
, Lord Valia,” he boomed. “Welcome to Italia, little brother! It’s been a long time.”
“
Salve
, Lord Ataulf!
” Valia cried befor
e bear hugging his brother once more
.
XXIV
“Alaric arrived outside the walls of Rome October of last year,” Ataulf said, swaying atop his white charger. “Immediately his forces seized the ports and sealed off the city. No one and nothing could get in or out.”
It was uncanny how much like his brother Ataulf was, Connor thought as he listened to them talking. It was not just their appearance, but also their voices and mannerisms. Though the elder Ataulf did seem to be just a bit prouder, a bit more confident – though before Connor had met him he would not have thought anyone could outshine Valia in these qualities. Connor wondered how much of this came from the few extra years of experience Ataulf had and how much was simply nature. While the twenty-two year old Valia was leading a small band of less than a hundred and fifty warriors, the twenty five year old Ataulf said that the
alae
of cavalry that now rode behind them was only a fraction of his force. Connor glanced back to the column. Together there were nearly six hundred and fifty well-armed men on horseback, positioned around the wagons and the families that moved slowly with
them. It was an awesome sight to a man raised in rural Eire, where twenty men might be considered a formidable war band. With a group like this, Connor thought, he could almost go to Tara to take on Niall of the Nine Hostages.
“But what happened next was inexplicable,” Ataulf continued.
“What happened?” Connor
asked,
when it seemed that he was not going to immediately continue.
“Absolutely nothing,” Ataulf said, shrugging his broad shoulders. “There was no response from Honorius.
No army, no envoy of peace
–
nothing.”
“Rome is the heart and soul of the
Imperium
,” Valia said. “How could the court at Ravenna not respond?”
Again Ataulf shrugged. “That is what Alaric thought. That is why he led his army there in the first place – to force action. But there
was no action from the pitiful E
mperor. Meanwhile, in the city itself, they had already publicly executed Stilicho’s wife Serena, and anyone else that they wanted to make scapegoat. It is rumored that as the bread rations were cut from one half
to one third and the things the complacent Romans had always taken for granted and often got for free began to dry up, the Senate considered breaking the law by making Pagan sacrifices
–
as if the old gods would strike us all with lightening to defend the Eternal City the Emperor had abandoned. Other rumors said that as the people began to starve and disease broke out in the stinking slums that fill the city, there were even cases of crazed people eating human flesh. But I do not believe this happened – at least not at that point. We are only talking about October through November. But whether true or not, what was evident was just how quickly our armies could bring Rome to its knees. From the richest to the poorest they are privileged and dependent on the outside world for everything. Once that was cut off it took only days for things to fall apart within those impenetrable walls. ”
“Indeed,” Valia said. “How many cities survive months or even years under siege?”
“Indeed
. But Rome, in its incredible complacency, overburdened by a people with a creed of entitlement and used to others suffering for them, was
brought to the bargaining table in a matter of weeks. Though when they came, they came arrogantly.”
“How so?”
Valia said, checking his horse as the grade became steeper. They were descending deeper into the valley. The winter sun was low in the sky, shining pale white through the branches of the trees. The air was turning colder as it blew in from the icy mountains they had left behind.
“The senate met with Alaric outside of the walls. They rebuked him for attacking the Holy City and told him that all the citizens were armed and had been drilling constantly, preparing to rush out and attack his thousands of Visigoths and
foederati
defectors
.
”
“I hope he laughed in their face,” Valia said.
“Oh, he did. And he said, of course, ‘The thicker the grass, the easier it is mowed’. They asked him what his demands were, and he said that his armies would withdraw once they were paid all the gold and silver in Rome, all the movable property, and the release of every barbarian slave in the city.”
Valia and the others laughed their approval of the king’s demands. This was the type of story they loved – a man like them standing up to the pompous authorities of the
Imperium
. Connor was silent, surprised by the harshness of the demands. If you want peace, why not offer the other party something they could accept?
“So when the senators in their best togas drew themselves up in indignation and said ‘What would we then be left with?’ the King smiles and says ‘Your lives’.”
Valia and his men shook in their saddles as they laughed.
“High bloody time,” Gaiseric said.
“So what did they do?” Connor asked.
“What could they do?” Ataulf said. “What do you do when tens of thousands of warriors demand money at sword point? You pay up. The terms were sketched out, and the Senate delivered five thousand pounds of gold, thirty thousand pounds of silver, four thousand silk tunics, three thousand sheets of scarlet-dyed leathers, and three thousand pounds of pepper.”
The men crooned as each of these amounts were mentioned.
“And to think, at that time we were shivering our arse off chasing around Briton legions and Frankish war bands through the thickets of Gaul,” Gaiseric said. There was a murmur of unhappy assent.
“Pepper?”
Connor said.
“Pepper.
You know – rich people put it on their food. Makes things taste better,” Ataulf said.
“But why would we want it – I mean, why could they use it to pay us?”
“You see – the payment wasn’t just a payment,” Ataulf explained. “It was a statement to the whole
Imperium.
Think about it – the Romans think that they are superior and that we are just barbarians. The only good use for those of us who come from outside of their conquered lands is as fighters or slaves. The payment defies that – we too are worthy to walk around in silk and fine leathers as they do and to eat good food instead of the dog carcasses they gave our fathers. It says that we are equal to them and deserve their respect.”
“So that was it, then?” Connor said. “They got the payment, and their kinsmen were released from slavery. You said all of this happened a year ago.”
“Ah – from here the story gets complicated; much too complicated for me to go into it all now. We will be home soon – none too soon from the look of this sky. The payment – massive and symbolic as it was – does not solve our underlying problem. We need a treaty with the
Imperium,
the same treaty more or less that we have always asked for. The siege was lifted for three days while the Senate tried to get Honorius to sign it. During that time the people of Rome resupplied their city. Their starving time was over for good – we all thought. But we were to be proven wrong. When the Senators arrived in Ravenna they found Honorius celebrating a personal anniversary in grand excess. He had apparently lost little sleep over them. The witless young man refused the treaty, vowing to never make peace with us.
“Over the months that followed there was a lot of back and forth political maneuvering going on. Near the beginning of this year, Honorius finally had the balls to try to do something about our people. He
sent
five legions of Dalmatians
, alleged to be pretty battle-hardened, to attack Alaric’s armies near Rome. But the fools marched down the fucking Flaminian Way – a road well known to us, of course. It was an easy matter for the King to just ambush them in a mountain pass. Of the six thousand soldiers that marched, only a hundred reached Rome. They rushed inside and huddled there in fear like everybody else.”
Again the newcomers hooted and cheered.
“Oh, the next attempt was even more pathetic,” Ataulf continued. “My men and I arrived here in Italia in the spring, coming from our campaigns in the east. Near Portus Pisanus we were attacked by Olympius – the chief eunuch of Honorius’s court, the same viper who orchestrated the betrayal of Stilicho and so many of the other things that brought all this about. He only had three hundred Huns. Now, his Huns did well – though he had no idea what he was doing – and attacking us in our sleep, as vipers do, they killed a number of good men. But when the sun came up they realized how many of us there were and they fled. Soon thereafter, Olympius was recognized for the diseased sack of filth that he was and cast out of court. He fled
for Dalmatia, not realizing that my men are patrolling this whole area. God damn his bones.
“Now we have patrolled northern Italia for the year, as Alaric wished; but no more troops have come, besides Sarus. Any troops Honorius has are fighting Constantine – which makes no sense because Constantine was fighting the Germani invading Gaul. But Honorius is more worried of losing the Purple to a usurper than in protecting his own people and saving the honor of their spiritual home.”
“So it was several days ago that Sarus passed through?” Valia asked.
“Yes. It was three days. I just wished I had known what you told me earlier. The bastard – he was always envious of us and our family, Alaric most of all. He told me that you had separated and that he did not know where you were.”
“You let him through?” Valia asked, dispassionately.
“He and his men are Visigoths. He is one of us. I had no reason to mistrust him.”
“There is no sense in worrying about it now, brother,” Valia said. “You could not have done differently.”
“And there is no sense in you trying to follow him further,” Ataulf said. “You cannot take revenge on him now. Not for the time being anyway. He will be in Ravenna long before you catch him. Perhaps he left the fight a
gainst Constantine at Honorius’
summons and never intended to join us.”
Valia nodded. “Let us hope that their arrival does not embolden Honorius.”
Ataulf laughed. “I don’t see how it could. You should have seen them. They were much the worse for wear. When Sarus rode out of Pannonia to follow that campaign some years ago he had several thousand men, and looked like the hero of a bard’s song. The few hundred I saw the other day were just glad to be alive.”
“So the rest of the year has been quiet?” Valia said, changing the subject.
“In terms of military action it has been quiet,” Ataulf corrected. “In terms of political action it was anything but. There was at least one other treaty hope,
which again ended in the petulant fool Emperor denying us and insulting us. Then last month something occurred that was the last thing that any of us would have expected a year before. Pushed too far, denied at every turn, Alaric decided that the best way ahead would be to depose Honorius. Alaric forced the Senate to appoint a new emperor of Rome. The Senate has no such authority of course, so the new
Imperator
– a senator named Priscus Attalus – is a usurper.”
“Now there are three emperors of Rome?” Connor said.
“Four
. You forgot the late Arcadius’
son, Eutropius in the East – who is easy to forget as he has played no part in any of this. So you see
,
you are now riding in the cohort of the official Roman Cavalry – at least according to the Senate of Rome.”