After the Fall(20)

Randegund frowned at Athaulf, while Alaric and Verica looked amazed by his reaction.

Alaric stepped forward, still holding the goblet. “Senator Attalus, I thank you for your generous offerings. Please, take your ease.” He looked around and found Gigi, nodding to her. “Magnus’s wife will entertain you with her flute, and I shall call for some beer and food. For our part, we shall take leave of you, for we have much to discuss.”

As the people dispersed, Athaulf picked up Placidia’s box. “I will have no one meddling with anything inside!”

He stalked off to join the other leaders, while Gigi set down Berga, who scampered off to find the queen.

“Come, Senator Attalus,” Gigi said. “Come with me.”

• • •

The tent was crowded, already stifling from body heat and shared fervor. Magnus watched as Alaric picked up a skein and started to pour wine into the jewel-encrusted goblet.

“Alaric! No!” Randegund shouted.

Startled, Magnus, Alaric, and the others whirled about to face the old woman.

“Poison!” Her eyes were wide, ablaze with a fearsome blue light. “Do not drink from the goblet!”

Alaric shook his head. “Fear not, Mother. Senator Attalus does not seek to harm, and neither does Galla Placidia — ”

“But Honorius does,” Magnus interjected as he motioned for the goblet. “I would trust Attalus and Placidia with my life, but,” he took the cup and gazed at its interior, wondering if anything had been smeared on the gold, “but Randegund is correct. We must never forget Honorius’s arm has a long reach. If you will, I shall take the first drink.”

Randegund scowled at Magnus, but Alaric nodded.

Sweat trickled from Magnus’s forehead as he swirled the liquid, then put the goblet to his lips. He was glad Gigi wasn’t here, in case things went badly.

He took a sip and swallowed, tasting nothing but red, fruity wine.

Heart pounding, Magnus waited a long moment.

Everyone was silent, watching him, until Queen Verica chuckled. “He looks well, does he not — and he got the first drink! I would ask all here to swear an oath of silence regarding his selfless act, else his wife will be quite vexed, and none of us shall ever hear the end of it.”

She gave Magnus a smile, relief shining in her eyes. He handed the goblet back to Alaric.

The king grinned. “Magnus, I am indebted by your audacious act of courage.” He turned to Athaulf and his captains. “Any objections to Attalus’s offer?”

“I should think so!” Sergeric said as he stepped forward. “My lord, you know he lied. The Roman pigs,” he frowned at Magnus, “are holding back. This is Rome, after all. Their treasure hoard must be vast, much more than two score of wagons.”

Alaric turned to Magnus. “What say you to this, my friend?”

Magnus swallowed hard, his thoughts in turmoil, for he knew the truth. Scrambling for an answer, he opened his mouth to speak, but Athaulf stood and blurted, “Enough! There is enough treasure in the Roman wagons to buy us the whole north of Italia, if a homeland is what we truly seek. We should accept the offer and end the siege.”

Surprisingly, the group affirmed this with the banging of swords on shields, and even Verica nodded to Alaric. Only Sergeric scowled.

Alaric raised his hand. “No more discussion? This is it?” he asked. “Well then, I declare the siege over, and our next move shall be to the north. The noose is around Honorius’s neck now, so let us ride to Ravenna and draw it tight.” He turned to one of the sentries. “You there, go and fetch Attalus.”

As people began to file out of the tent, Magnus felt a touch on his sleeve and turned. Randegund stood there. “If the cup had been poisoned,” she said, “you would now be dead.”

He looked straight into her eyes. “Indeed, I would.”

“I thank you for protecting him,” she added and abruptly walked away.

There was something in the way she’d spoken, a spiteful edge in her tone, which made Magnus smile. He knew what it must have cost her, also knew he could not trust her, could never let down his guard.

She had not changed. She was his oldest enemy, and she would never forgive him for the loss of her husband, whom Magnus had fought beside in battle long ago. Although the death was not his fault, Randegund never wavered in her belief he had been negligent. Her hatred was all still there, despite her show of gratitude.