After the Fall(64)
“Show yourself, or I’ll call for the guards,” a voice warned.
Gigi’s mouth dropped open. “Vana? Is that you?”
The door burst open. “Gigi? Why are you back? I thought you were gone forever.”
“Quiet!” Gigi pulled the girl in, shut the door, and fiercely hugged her. Vana had been her only friend while she was enslaved.
“I have missed you,” Vana whispered, hugging her back. “I was so glad when you escaped.”
Gigi stared into Vana’s eyes, her mind seizing on her last word. “Oh, my God, I have something for you.” She grabbed her Visigoth clothing and shoved it into Vana’s hands. “Change into these, and here,” she gave her the purse of coins, “take this, too.”
Then she stopped, focusing on Vana’s scarred forehead, the branding inflicted by Honorius years before. What could be done about it?
“Vana, hold still. You’re going to escape tonight. I’m going to fix your hair to hide what that bastard did to you, and you’re going to get out of here.” Gigi pulled out her dagger, grabbed a handful of hair above Vana’s brow, and cut her friend some bangs. When she was done, she stood back and assessed her efforts, then grinned and nodded. “Good enough. Besides, no one will recognize you all bundled up against the cold. Now hurry. You must leave right away. The Visigoths are at Hadrian’s Villa. You can get directions from villagers along the route — five days south at most. Galla Placidia is with them. Tell her I sent you. She will take you in.”
Gigi made a move to go, then glanced back at Vana. “Placidia’s husband is named Athaulf. Have him remove your slave collar and melt it down. He should make a knife from the metal, a dagger, and you can carry it to protect yourself.”
“I understand.” Vana gave Gigi a smile and a hug, fierce and strong.
Gigi smiled back. With a bit of luck, Vana would make it.
Quietly closing the door behind her, Gigi left the room. Looking both ways, heart thumping, she picked up a tray, a flagon of wine and cups and two loaves of cooling bread, then headed for the palace. There were several dozen slaves sweeping the huge terrace and stairs, and a few looked up with curiosity as she hurried past, but they made no move or comment before returning to their chores.
The guards at the main entrance waved her through, and once in the great hall, Gigi got only cursory glances from others as she moved purposefully, remembering only too well the route she had to take. When she reached the corridor leading directly to Honorius’s rooms, her knees started to quake. The big Germans were there, but they hardly took notice, until one, nearest the double doors, blocked her way and glowered.
“What is your business?”
Gigi kept her eyes downcast and smiled, trying to ignore her pulse-pounding fear. She bobbed a curtsey. “Our most worthy emperor requested I bring a late night snack when I was done with my chores. He promised he would wait for me, and, er, I have bathed as he asked.”
“He didn’t speak of it to me,” the guard countered. “Besides, he has received another, uh, guest, and I’m sure he does not want to be bothered. Be gone.”
Pouting, Gigi looked up at the man and blinked several times. “It was an order, and I would not care to ignore such a direct request. If he doesn’t want to see me anymore, I’m sure he’ll say so, but please, I don’t think either one of us should presume to know his mind.”
He hesitated, looking uncertain and uneasy, and Gigi’s thoughts veered to what might be happening behind those doors.
“Go on then,” the guard huffed, letting her pass. “Be it on your head alone if he takes it ill!”
Gigi headed for the second set of doors, where a pair of bored-looking sentries stood. Through the walls, she could hear yelling and laughter and recognized Honorius’s voice at once. Her arms started to shake, but she put her chin up and forced her gaze down.
“At the emperor’s request,” she said, holding up the tray.
To her relief, the men stood aside and let her in, and the doors shut behind her. Honorius was across the room, pacing, ranting, paying no attention to her, and Magnus was on his knees before the emperor, bare-chested and bloody, head bowed, arms bound behind his back.
Gigi gulped back a cry and crouched behind the large bed. She put the tray on the floor, then pulled off the palla and drew out her dagger and Magnus’s short blade. Just as she was about to rise, she heard footsteps approaching from the opposite side, and something heavy landed on the bed. The footsteps receded, and Gigi rose slightly, to see what was going on.