After the Fall(36)
• • •
Stunned, Alaric stood over the inert, nearly unrecognizable body, and then looked at Athaulf and Verica. “And you say Magnus arrived on foot?”
“There is no sign of his horse,” Athaulf muttered. “What shall we do with him?”
“Let him sleep it off right where he is,” Verica said. “Give him a blanket and leave the food, but I won’t have him inside. He’s covered in lice. We can get him cleaned up once he’s awake.”
“What about Jolie?” Athaulf asked.
“Gigi,” Verica reminded him. “She asked us to start using her real name.”
“Ah, of course. We must tell him about her at once,” Alaric said, bringing the conversation back to what mattered.
“Certainly, wake him up,” Athaulf agreed.
“No! He’s in no state to know just yet,” Verica said. “He would never forgive us if we sent him off in such a decrepit state, filthy and drunk, and he will certainly leave the moment we tell him.”
• • •
Bathed and dressed in fresh clothing, his hangover nearly dissipated, Magnus felt good as he walked back toward the campfire, and smiled as he recalled Verica’s scolding, and insistence he get clean. By the height of the sun, he knew it was nearly noon, and he expected Alaric would be joining him for the midday meal.
He recalled how angry he had been when he first reached the Visigoth camp, but now he felt more relaxed, more forgiving. He would question Alaric about his intentions and then help with the diplomatic negotiations, serving as Placidia’s go-between.
Without fail, he must serve Placidia.
Alaric, Athaulf, and Verica were all waiting for him. They looked nervous but pleased, and ready to welcome him. Embracing each in turn, he gave Verica an extra hug.
“I’m sorry for how you found me, truly. It won’t happen again. You see — ”
Alaric raised his hand, cutting him off. “Magnus,” he said. “Let’s not speak of it.”
Magnus bowed his head in acknowledgement. “You must know, old friend, I’ve no intention of staying here. My place is with Placidia, and it is for her I returned from Constantinople.”
“We understand completely.” Alaric clapped him on the shoulder and then frowned at Verica. “At least take a few moments to sup with us before you go.”
After the king and queen were seated, Magnus took the chair next to Athaulf. Alaric clapped his hands, and three servants appeared. One poured beer into Alaric’s gem-encrusted goblet, while another filled drinking horns for everyone else. The third set forth a platter of roasted meat and flatbread.
The servants departed, and Magnus studied the platter. Feeling queasy, the effects of his hangover were resurrected by the smell of food. Tasting his beer, he sought to quiet his churning stomach, but the drink was bitter and not to his liking.
Verica exchanged another long look with Alaric. “Magnus, please, take your ease before us. There is goat and mutton — ”
He felt the bile rise in his throat. “No, no, I cannot stay.” He glanced around for somewhere to place his horn, then remembered a refusal to drink with them would be seen as an insult. “I’ve lived with a single purpose long enough — to serve the princess,” he took a sip, “but I would ask a hard question, if you don’t mind.”
Alaric’s eyebrows shot up, and he made a gesture toward Athaulf, who nodded and dashed off. “As you wish, Magnus,” Alaric said smoothly.
They were behaving strangely, Magnus realized. Was it guilt? And why in Hades had the king sent Athaulf away? “I wonder why you besiege Rome, yet again. More booty? You surely must still have enough to satisfy even a Visigoth appetite.”
Alaric glanced at his goblet, then shrugged. “I must fill you in on what has transpired in the past, what, year and a half?”
“But — ”
“Magnus, we must talk before you depart.”
Alaric’s deep frown caught Magnus by surprise. He had gotten some news through his family while in Constantinople, but as he listened to the details of what had transpired since the ambush, since the fire, since the day his life ended, he could hardly believe his ears.
There had been another march on Rome that first spring, and Alaric proclaimed Senator Attalus to be the emperor. Alaric and Attalus then moved north and threatened Ravenna. With his back to the sea, Honorius agreed to split but not cede the Western Empire, yet he ultimately reneged when Constantinople sent four thousand troops to his aid. Alaric was forced to retreat to Rome once more, only to find the city on the verge of starvation because the grain supply in Africa was in the hands of Honorius’s supporters. Because Attalus refused to attack Africa, Alaric was forced to strip him of all titles and power, and now the Visigoths were back where they had been, at Rome’s very gates.