After the Fall(49)
“Don’t make light of this,” Athaulf said seriously. “I want to marry her before our next move, and since officially she is our enemy, I feel I need your blessing upon the union, for the good of all. Otherwise, some might take it as an insult, and she might not be welcomed as she should.”
“Do you refer to our mother?”
“Among others.”
Alaric grimaced. “My blessing on your marriage will do nothing to placate Randegund. In truth, I fear nothing will placate her now that her mind is tortured by … demons,” he sighed, “but I — ”
“King Alaric,” a sentry interrupted from outside, “there is a Roman soldier here with a package, one which must be delivered in person to your brother. May he enter?”
“If he is unarmed, of course,” Alaric called out, “let him in.”
Wary, Athaulf stood, wondering who among the Romans might send him something, and Magnus and Alaric rose to stand beside him.
A common soldier entered, looking haughty and unabashed at being at the very center of his enemy’s encampment. He glanced at the three men, his air of disdain obvious when he recognized Magnus. Then, assessing height differences between Athaulf and Alaric, he turned to Athaulf and held out a small crate, bound with leather straps and sealed with wax.
“You are the shorter of the two, so I take it you are Athaulf?” he asked.
Athaulf acknowledged the fact with a slight nod. “Who sends this, and what is it?”
“As to what it is, I wasn’t informed,” the man said coolly. “The sender is none other than Flavius Honorius Augustus, Emperor of Rome.”
Troubled, Athaulf glanced at Alaric and Magnus, then took the proffered box. He pulled out his knife and cut the straps, then pried off the lid. The interior held a glass jar, tightly packed in straw.
Magnus stepped forward. “Leave it, Athaulf. This is some twisted jest.”
“There is a note,” Athaulf said.
Magnus reached in, snatched the small piece of parchment, and read it in silence.
“What does it say?” Alaric asked, stepping toward him.
Magnus’s lips tightened. “When you f*ck Rome, Rome will f*ck you.”
Furious, Athaulf spun around to demand an explanation, but the Roman soldier had already slipped out of the tent.
Athaulf pulled forth the jar and peered at its contents, then recoiled and cursed in anger. A shriveled, blackened head floated inside, a young boy’s head, and a tag read, “Eucherius, son of Stilicho.”
Magnus grabbed the jar and quickly put it back in the box.
Alaric’s gaze was filled with disgust. “Truly, Honorius is deranged.”
“Eucherius must be buried,” Magnus said emotionally. “It is little enough we can do to honor the poor child.”
“I shall marry her, Alaric,” Athaulf insisted. “Placidia must never fall into the hands of that monster. Never! I will not allow that beast to have sway over her again. I will protect her with my love, and with my sword.”
“Say nothing to her about this,” Magnus warned. “Nothing — ever. She must never know.”
“Tomorrow, brother,” Alaric said quietly. “I will tell Verica to make everything ready. You may wed the girl tomorrow.”
• • •
Placidia felt breathless with joy. Athaulf had come in late in the night and held her so closely, so tenderly, as though she might slip away without warning. Then, as dawn lightened the sky, he’d asked her to marry him — without delay — and now, here she was, looking at her bridegroom through an orange veil.
The Arian bishop had just made the pronouncement, declared them wed. Never again would she be beholden to Honori — no! she scolded herself. She mustn’t even think the name, not on this perfect, perfect day. It was a time for new beginnings.
Athaulf lifted the veil and smiled at her.
My husband! To think we found love amid the ashes, after the fall of Rome. Together, we will make a future, together always …
She smiled back. “I love you, Athaulf. I am so proud to be your wife.”
He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then scooped her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and kissed her more deeply.
When he set her back down, everyone was cheering and applauding, Gigi and Magnus most of all. Placidia reached out and took Gigi’s hand.
“I’m not jealous of your love any longer, Gigi,” she cried out, smiling through tears of joy, trying to make herself heard over the noise. “My heart is so full!”