After the Fall(38)

“We both did what we could.” She searched his eyes, trying to convey her feelings, then reached out and touched the thin line of a scar on his cheek. “This is new.”

“I got it before the fire, during the ambush. We nearly died that day, you and I.”

“But we didn’t, and now you’re back.” Gigi dropped her gaze and nodded toward the wine. “May I pour you a glass?”

Magnus glanced at the amphora and then shook his head. “No. No wine. You are all I need … will ever need.”

Again, there was a pause, this time more awkward, and their eyes met and held.

Magnus shifted, uncomfortable. “Gigi,” he said, “I know it’s been a long time. I can’t assume … ”

“Intimacy will come when we’re ready. I just need you to hold me.”

He took her into his arms and she nestled against him, breathing deeply. Olive oil, hints of pine and spice, new fragrances, but there was more, something she’d dreamt about these long months, the scent of his skin, his essence.

“I am home,” he murmured, “at last, I am home.”

“Magnus,” she whispered back, “I love you.”

“It goes far beyond love, my sweet,” he said. “You are my life.”

They clung one to the other, the ache of their separation still keenly felt, never to be forgotten.





Chapter 11


24 August, A.D. 410, Rome

Sergeric sat on a log near the campfire, close to Alaric’s chair. He looked around, confident he was out of earshot of the other chieftains.

Settling in, he studied the king’s face, seeing lines where none had been before, his hair now streaked with gray. He mulled these tidbits, then tucked them away, guessing they would be of interest to his brother, Sarus.

“Alaric, have you considered what we discussed at supper?” Sergeric asked.

“I have, but I am not yet convinced.”

“I tell you,” Sergeric insisted, keeping his voice low, “the Roman woman — Proba — is as sick of this siege as we, and she will command her servants to go to the gate, overpower the guards, and let us in tonight.”

“We’ve been camped outside of Rome barely two weeks,” Alaric argued. “Food can’t have run short already, not in the summer. I mistrust this woman.”

Sergeric shrugged. “You are correct — she is not hungry, except for my cock. She may be rich, of the merchant class, but she has a taste for earthier things. She has come to me many times already, and does not seek our downfall, I can assure you. In fact, she will do just about anything I ask of her. Truth be told, she fears those who tasted human flesh during the first siege far more than she fears us. She worries they will use our presence outside the city as an excuse to revisit their old ways.”

Sergeric watched Alaric study the ground between his feet. He waited patiently, guessing it would not take long for the king’s response — and certain of the outcome.

Alaric looked up, a familiar glint in his gaze. “We must have firm rules. Sanctuary is to be granted without exception, and no rape or setting the city to flames. The palaces on the Palatine must remain intact, as must the churches. Athaulf will want to go to the princess immediately, I am sure. Also, Magnus and his wife are to be allowed quarter. They are to be left unharmed.”

Sergeric smiled and nodded. “Agreed.”

He saw a softening in Alaric’s expression, the look of trust. That was his weakness, his great failing. The king did not suspect he and Sarus would never forgive him for the deaths of Sarus’s wife and children, or for the loss of their father’s kingship. They were simply biding their time.

“Good. Send word then,” Alaric said, standing, “so our armies will be ready, for this night Rome will belong to the Visigoths.”

• • •

“Mother,” Alaric said, entering Randegund’s tent, “the decision has been made. Tonight, we will enter Rome.”

Randegund bade him sit by her side. “My son,” she said as he settled beside her, “this day I consulted the runes, and it is a fortuitous time for our people. You know, even-numbered days bode ill for the Roman scum.” She smiled. “But did you also know today is a cursed anniversary for them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Their great mountain, Vesuvius, erupted on this day over three centuries ago, killing many Roman citizens. I think tonight we shall kill many Romans, too.”