Nobilissima (21 page)

“We don’t have enough supplies to get us through the winter,” I said. “Unless we can bring food in by road.”

“I thought of that,” answered Ataulf. “I’ve sent agents out to check. Nothing can come in from the north because of the continued fighting in northern Gallia but, if the coast road is open, we can order supplies to be brought in that way.”

Later that day, one of Ataulf’s stewards arrived. Several of the ships’ captains had been happy to accept the bribes and say who had given the orders and the money for the blockade.

“It was Constantius,” the steward told us.

“Constantius did this?” I asked. “With the Emperor’s approval or on his own?”

“It’s not clear yet, Nobilissima,” replied the steward. “They were given orders that the ships should maintain the blockade all winter if necessary. And the coast roads are blocked, manned by Roman units.”

I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. “We need those supplies if we are to survive here.”

“There’s more, my lord,” said the steward, turning to Ataulf. He was trembling, terrified to be the bearer of such news. “General Constantius has sent a message promising to lift the blockade as soon as…” His voice trailed away.

“Yes?” prompted Ataulf.

“As soon as Queen Placidia returns to Ravenna,” he said.

“I can’t believe that he would do this,” I exploded. “This is a personal attack on me yet he punishes the Goths.”

Ataulf threw his wine goblet against a wall in a rare show of temper.

“You will not return to Ravenna, Placidia,” he said. “But I will, at the head of my army. We’ll march on the palace and take it by force. I’ll tear our settlement agreement into pieces and drop them into the lap of the Emperor. My men will take whatever food we need from the Roman cities we pass through. Constantius will soon wish he had acted more wisely, when we unleash the great Goth army against the Empire yet again.”

“No,” I said. “You cannot declare war on Rome. Our people do not want war. They are tired of fighting. It goes against everything we have struggled for.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Ataulf. “We sit here and wait while the children out there die of hunger?”

“Not those children, nor the one I’m carrying,” I said, standing and pushing away Sylvia’s proffered hand. “We’re going to convince Constantius to lift this blockade.”

Chapter 19

“I must go to Ravenna and talk to my brother,” I said, standing near the window and feeling the last rays of sun warm against my back.

“Never,” said Ataulf. “I won’t allow you it. Don’t you see? If you go, they won’t let you come back.”

“My brother wouldn’t hold me hostage!” I said and then grimaced at my choice of words. I hadn’t meant to remind Ataulf that he’d done that very thing.

“He would,” interrupted Sylvia. “How can you forget what he’s like?”

I glanced at Ingenuus, who sat on the edge of a couch, looking tired and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know we shouldn’t speak ill of the Emperor, but I do fear that he would find a way to keep you in Ravenna. He has the power to do that, and could make it look innocent enough.”

“Exactly,” said Ataulf. He’d walked to and fro across the room a hundred times but now he stopped in front of me and took my hand. “That is not the solution.”

“So then what? We fight? We can’t do that,” I said. “Our child is destined to become the first sovereign of a united Goth and Roman nation. We have to make it possible for that to happen.”

“We can’t stay here,” Ataulf said, letting go of my hand and resuming his pacing around the room. “It’s not just our supplies that are being blocked but also the grain and wine that the rest of the province needs. We are endangering the good citizens of Narbo as well as ourselves by staying. If we leave, Constantius will lift the blockade and Ingenuus will receive the supplies his people need for the winter.”

“Leave?” asked Ingenuus. “But where can you go?”

“Hispania,” said Ataulf. He paused by the window and took a deep breath. “We can go to Hispania, where there is land that no one in Ravenna cares about. They wouldn’t bother to come after us there. And if we don’t like it when we get there, we can move on to northern Africa.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Hispania is in disarray. The Franks and the Vandals are running amok there. It’s madness, Ataulf.”

“I agree,” said Ingenuus, getting to his feet. “I cannot wish that fate on you.”

A long silence fell, disturbed finally by a timid servant who scurried in to light candles to fend off the encroaching darkness.

“We can’t fight, we can’t stay and we can’t leave,” said Ataulf when the servant had gone.

“I’ll write to Constantius,” I said. “I’ll offer to meet him in Rome to talk with him as long as he lifts the blockade immediately. In Rome, I’ll have the support of Marcus and the senators. He wouldn’t dare to harm or imprison me there. We’ll talk and then I’ll leave. Even if he reinstates the blockade, we’ll have bought time enough to receive sufficient supplies for one winter. Then we can work out what to do next.”

Ingenuus looked at Ataulf, who shook his head.

“It might work, Ataulf,” I said. “If I lead Constantius to think that I am considering a return to Ravenna, he’ll come to Rome to meet with me, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t like it,” said Ingenuus. “I’ve met Constantius on several occasions and find him to be a ruthless and ambitious man. He won’t take kindly to being lied to, Nobilissima. Even if your friends can keep you safe, he’ll find a way to avenge himself on the Goths and…”

“And on Narbo as well,” I said, finishing his sentence for him.

“That’s it then,” said Ataulf, calling a servant to bring his cloak. “We must leave for Hispania. I’ll talk to my generals and plan for our departure. We’ll take the Via Domitia as far as Declana, and then join the Via Augusta to reach Barcino. Following the coastline will give us the best possible chance of good weather for the journey. Ingenuus, do you have a map that will provide us with distances?”

“I do,” replied Ingenuus. “Come with me and we’ll find it together.”

He bowed to me and followed Ataulf from the room.

I shivered and ordered the shutters to be closed. Sylvia rushed to my side and wrapped a stola around my shoulders. “Come and sit please,” she begged. “You look exhausted and you mustn’t forget that you have a baby to care for. I’ll call for some food.”

Obediently, I sat. Fierce waves of emotion battered me but I felt numb, as though I had stood for too long in freezing water.

Sylvia rubbed my hands. “You’re cold,” I said.

We watched the servants bring in trays of food. I was always hungry now that I was carrying a child but the sight of food made my stomach turn.

“Will it be as dangerous in Hispania as you said?” asked Sylvia after a while.

I shook my head, anxious to reassure her. “No,” I said. “The Vandals are moving south to Africa. We probably won’t see any of them at all.”

Sylvia nabbed another piece of the meat pie that she liked so much, appearing satisfied with the answer. I broke a piece of bread into crumbs, pushing them one at a time into my mouth. The thought of Hispania filled me with dread but I had no idea why.

One week later, I sat with Ingenuus and Ataulf. Taiga had joined us, which was unusual. I was worried about her. She had always been thin but now her face was gaunt, the skin pulled tight over her high cheekbones. Her blues eyes glittered as though she had a fever. She sat next to her brother and listened while he described the imminent journey.

“Where is Barcino?” she asked, stumbling over the name.

“Right on the coast,” said Ataulf. “You’ll like it there, Taiga. There will be plenty of space for our people to spread out and build homes. We can grow olives there, and grapes for wine.”

“And oranges,” I said. “I love oranges.”

Taiga smiled at me. “Yes, I’ve seen you eating them by the dozen. You’re looking even more beautiful than ever. Being pregnant suits you.”

I felt sad for Taiga. She and Alaric hadn’t had any children and she seemed so alone. A child would have given her someone else to care for and think about each day. And now this. Yet another displacement, after everyone had been so excited about the prospect of settling. I glanced at Ingenuus. His lined face looked old and worn and his kind eyes were darkened by lack of sleep. The blockade was already affecting his city and the price of bread had risen sharply as grain supplies began to dwindle. I knew that Ataulf was right about leaving. We had no choice.

A scratching noise at the window made me jump but Ataulf smiled and squeezed my hand. “It’s just the wind,” he said. “See, there is the branch of a tree scraping at the glass.”

A minute later the sound was drowned out by the clatter of boots on the stone path outside, and then two guards opened the doors and announced the arrival of several of Ataulf’s generals.

“My lord,” said one of them, approaching and bowing to everyone at the table. “We’ve returned from Narbo, where there are reports of Roman troops massing on the road to Hispania. It appears they plan to block it so that we cannot pass.”

I gasped as Ataulf stabbed his dagger deep into the wooden surface of the table and jumped to his feet. “Constantius goes too far,” he said. “So we will fight back. Prepare the units. We’ll march at dawn and dispatch these Roman cowards. I won’t be treated in this way.”

“Ataulf, please may we talk alone?” I asked. He hesitated and I nodded my head in the direction of the courtyard that adjoined the tablinum where we sat. I didn’t want to contradict my husband in front of his men.

“Give me two minutes,” he told his generals. “Ingenuus will call for wine to be brought for you.”

The minute we were out of earshot, I seized his arm. “Ataulf, we cannot fight the Romans. We agreed on this before and the situation remains the same. We are the symbols of the united Roman and Goth nations. If we fight, we lose everything. The two sides will be at war again and your people will not be safe anywhere.”

“But he goads me beyond my endurance, Placida. If we run from him now, he’ll come after us.”

“No,” I insisted. “He has no interest and no resources to send an army into Hispania. We leave Aquitania in peace and when we are settled in Hispania we will begin a campaign of diplomacy to convince Honorius of Constantius’s perfidy. I’ll have Marcus on my side, and the Bishop and Senate will support me. We’ll get what we want by negotiating, not by fighting.”

“Spoken as a woman,” growled Ataulf. “My generals won’t take kindly to running away.”

“They will do as you tell them,” I said.

“And how do you propose we get to Hispania with the road blocked?”

“Through the Pyrenees.”

Half an hour later, Ingenuus echoed the words. “Through the Pyrenees?” he asked incredulously. “It’s almost November. The mountains are impassable in the winter. How will you survive?”

“Our people are hardy and resilient,” said Ataulf. “We are from the north, don’t forget. We can cope with ice and snow. But we’ll make a start immediately and hope to get through the pass before the worst of the weather comes in. We’ll go in convoys. I’ll go first with Placidia, Taiga, and a unit of soldiers. The generals’ wives will travel with bodyguards. If the weather is good enough for us to travel, it is good enough for thieves and assassins to be at large as well.”

Despite Ataulf’s warning, I felt my heart lift a little. I despised Constantius for what he was doing, and hated Honorius for allowing him to do it. Hispania offered freedom, a safe haven from the crawling tentacles of power that emanated from Ravenna.

Chapter 20

With the strength and pragmatism that always impressed me, the Goths were prepared to move out at dawn three days later. The sky was overcast and the air fragile with an icy chill when I said my goodbyes to Ingenuus. I hoped that that I would see him again. His kindness and generosity had touched my heart.

The long column of carts and carriages creaked along the roads that led to the foothills of the Pyrenees. The people were quiet, their dreams of settling in these gentle hills shattered, but they marched with energy, aware of the need to move fast. Sylvia and I shared a carriage with Taiga and passed the time by sewing swaddling clothes and tiny slippers for the baby. Ataulf seemed cheerful enough, cajoling his commanders into moving faster, and riding up and down the column to encourage his people.

After several days of hard travel, the peaks of the Pyrenees loomed high above us. Ataulf and his generals conferred over the maps and found the pass that would take us through the lowest point in the mountain range. Ataulf had warned me that once we took the road that led to the pass, we would have several weeks of arduous travel ahead of us. The pass was at a high elevation, a challenge for the people on foot and for the heavy carts that held their possessions. I was nervous, knowing that my mobility was hampered by my pregnancy. I would ride in the carriage for most of the journey but the roads at the highest altitude were barely more than goat paths and it was likely that I would have to walk part of the way.

My anxiety increased when the weather took a turn for the worse. The large fluffy white clouds that dotted the blue sky began to bunch together , passing in front of the pale sun and casting long shadows over the crowds of people below. Over the course of the day, the clouds merged to form an iron-grey veil that obscured the high mountain peaks.