Nobilissima (50 page)

I received several letters from Tertius with updates on the household in Ravenna and news on how everyone was faring.

“Can you believe that Honorius has forbidden anyone to ever mention my name in his presence again?” I asked Marcus and Aurelia, handing them the latest letter.

Marcus perused the letter and gave it back. “And it sounds to me as though Tertius is delicately hinting that it is time to move the household from Ravenna to Constantinople. Your faithful supporters cannot feel comfortable in the court there.”

“The renovation work is proceeding well, so it’s a good time to arrange for the move,” I agreed. “And look, Aurelia, Apollo has been keeping Tertius company in the library, although Tertius has threatened to evict him if he continues to use the desk as a scratching post. We’ll make sure that Apollo comes with the others.”

“I hope he’ll be safe on the sea voyage,” Aurelia said. “After what happened to us…”

“He’ll be fine, as will everyone,” said Marcus firmly. “Placidia, you let us know what we can do to help. It’ll be good to have everyone here.”

Several days later, I received word that my apartments were ready. The move was accomplished quickly and I breathed more easily once there was some space between me and my nephew and niece. My palace was far smaller than theirs but I liked its light and airy rooms with their high, vaulted ceilings. From almost every window was a view of the gardens and, on the eastern side, wide vistas of the Bosphorus.

It was soothing to walk the tiled floors of my childhood, breathe the same air, and smell the familiar scent of the lilacs. As I’d remembered the frieze on the base of the obelisk, so I began to recall other places and events from my childhood years. Some memories were indistinct, like clouds floating against a blue sky, changing shape before I could fully decipher them. I remembered my father, so tall and proud, picking me up and swinging me high above the ground. My memories of my mother were full of softness and silk, warmth and perfume.

One morning, as I explored the rooms near my new apartments, I found myself staring distractedly at a fresco of two white doves drinking water from a blue bowl. Many of the walls in the palace were adorned with paintings and I could not imagine why that particular image had caught my attention. Then I remembered that, on the day my mother had died, I’d spent the entire day hiding behind the columns in this corridor. I was avoiding my nanny, who would have made me go back to my rooms. While I waited, I’d memorized every tiny detail of the painting and held imaginary conversations with the two pretty birds, symbols of hope and peace. Only after the sun had set and the shadows in the corridor were beginning to scare me, did someone find me to tell me that my mother and baby brother were dead.

I traced the shape of the cobalt bowl with my finger, remembering that day. In spite of the tragedy that had unfolded here, I was glad to be back, honoring my parents’ memory. After all the travels and time spent in Ravenna, Rome and in Hispania, I felt I had truly come home.

Chapter 45

Increasingly optimistic for my future in Constantinople, I planned a sailing date for the household and dictated letters to my staff in Ravenna to advise them of the arrangements. Through correspondence with Tertius, he assured me that Honorius had never spoken a cross word to him and that he felt secure in Ravenna.

“I have enjoyed Apollo’s company,” he wrote, “but his claws and my delicate documents don’t mix well. He will be happy to see Aurelia again.”

No one slept for the few days before the ships were due in port. We were all too excited about seeing old friends and familiar faces.
 
When they arrived, we found that Apollo had been transported in a specially built cage that had kept him safe but made him angry. For several days, he yowled and spat at everyone except Aurelia, but gradually came round to his new home, and was soon walking the corridors with his tail twitching and head held high. I welcomed back my staff with an elaborate feast and, over the coming weeks, the household settled into familiar routines. The refurbished palace was more than spacious enough to accommodate everyone in great comfort.

Summer arrived, borne on a wave of heat that kept the gardeners busy irrigating the lawns and watering parched flowers. The children played in the fountains to stay cool and I spent long hours with my scribe, writing recommendations for the expansion of orthodox Christianity in the Empire. Pulcheria seemed content that I had found something productive to work on, and made introductions to the Bishop of Constantinople and several influential priests. I exchanged many letters with Boniface, Governor of North Africa, on the subject, and learned that my former palace priest, Alanus, was doing an excellent job of implementing my legislation in that region.

“It just goes to show that everyone has an opportunity to excel, given the right circumstances,” I said to Sylvia, while penning a letter of congratulations to Alanus on his success.

Sylvia raised my eyebrows in surprise. “That man caused no end of trouble in Ravenna, just in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I couldn’t forget it,” I replied. “But he’s in a place now where his dedication…”

“Fanaticism,” interrupted Sylvia.

“His energy and enthusiasm for his task can be properly directed,” I finished.

“I’m glad it’s all directed at someone else,” said Sylvia. “The memory of him still gives me the shivers.”

“I know it does but I envy him the ability to perform something so well.”

Sylvia put down her sewing. “Are you missing Ravenna?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I admit, though, that I’m struggling to find things to do.”

“You’re doing plenty. Look at all the work you’re doing on this religious stuff.” She gave a quick shudder and that made me laugh.
 

“I’m so happy to have your total support on that, dear Sylvia.”

I managed to stay very busy, in fact, and attended all the functions to which I was invited. These were mostly official dinners and a weekly church service for the Emperor that was held in the city’s new cathedral. I felt I was doing well at walking a fine line between seeing too much of my niece and nephew, and staying close to the core of power they represented.

As the summer wore on and the hot afternoons made it harder to work at my desk, I spent the time instead in the shade of a flowery arbor in the garden, watching the children play and talking with Aurelia and Sylvia.

“No letters this week?” asked Aurelia, who enjoyed hearing news of Ravenna in the regular missives from Tertius and occasional letters from Bishop Ursus and Senator Gardius.

“No, and I’m worried about Tertius,” I admitted. “It is most unlike him to miss the messenger service. I hope he’s not ill.”

“Maybe the service has been disrupted,” said Sylvia, fanning herself. “I haven’t seen any messengers at all this week.”

In spite of her elevated position in the palace, Sylvia still liked to spend time in the kitchens, the best source of gossip, where the couriers were always offered food and drink by kitchen staff eager to hear the latest news from the city and beyond.

“That’s odd,” I said, uneasy at the thought of no news coming into the palace. “We need to find out more.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and the conversation melted away under the intense heat.

The following morning, I had a meeting scheduled with the bishop at his offices in the center of the city and Aurelia offered to go with me. Riding out through the main gate of the palace complex, the carriage had to slow to pass through a large crowd gathered there. I told the driver to stop.
 

“Ask them what they’re doing,” I instructed my lictor.

He jumped down from the carriage and quickly reappeared to report that everyone was looking at the latest proclamation issued by Theodosius. It was customary for the Emperor to post proclamations throughout the city so that the general populace could read them. They usually pertained to new taxes or laws, or announced victories in distant battles.

“I think you should take a look, Nobilissima,” he said.

“Get out here? With all these people?” I asked. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What did it say?”

His eyes darted towards the crowd and back again and a sheen of perspiration glowed on his forehead.
 

“I need you to tell me right now what is going on,” I said.

Aurelia looked nervous; the lictor was behaving very strangely.

He straightened his shoulders. “Theodosius has proclaimed himself Emperor of the Western Empire.”

“That’s impossible,” I said.

He stared at a space above my head, clearly not willing to contradict me.

“Get in,” I said. “Tell the driver to take us to the Emperor at once.”

I tapped my foot impatiently on the floor while the driver maneuvered the carriage through the crowd and turned the horses back towards the palace. This made no sense. Honorius wouldn’t give up his crown to his nephew. There had been no news of discussions between the two of them, no reports of a battle.

I slammed my hand down on the seat. Of course! There’d been no news at all for nearly ten days. The lack of correspondence from Rome and Ravenna was no coincidence. Whatever was going on, I’d been kept in the dark deliberately and I was sure that Theodosius had prevented the delivery of letters to my palace.

By the time we arrived at the entrance to the main palace, I was furious.
 

“Where is the Emperor?” I asked the guards at the door.

“In the throne chamber, Nobilissima, but he is holding is a private audience today.”

“Not anymore,” I said, pushing past them and hurrying along the hallway with Aurelia and the bodyguard in pursuit. More guards stood at the tall double doors of the chamber, but stepped aside at my command. I entered to find Pulcheria and Theodosius on their thrones. The crowd of advisors around them parted to let me pass.

“What are you doing, Theodosius?” I demanded.

Pulcheria stood. “Aunt, we are glad you are here. Please take a seat.”

“No, thank you. I want to know what’s going on. Theodosius has proclaimed himself Emperor of the West. Are you planning a war against Ravenna?”

“Sit please,” said Pulcheria again. “We have news you need to hear.”

I remained standing and waited. Pulcheria glanced at her brother and nodded.

“Aunt,” he said. “Honorius is dead.”

I felt the blood drain from my head and felt dizzy. Someone guided me to a chair and helped me to sit. “Dead?”

“He died of a disease of the lungs, according to his doctors. I can see that you are upset and I’m sorry.”

The fog in my brain began to clear. Honorius was dead and Theodosius had seized the Western throne. He had not conferred with me or discussed Valentinian’s claim to the crown. Anger burned through me and I felt my cheeks flush with heat.

“Yes, I’m upset,” I said, aware of how loud my voice sounded in the silent chamber. “I’m outraged that you would proclaim yourself Emperor of the West without talking to me. How dare you overthrow the mandate of your grandfather, who divided rule of the Empire into East and West?”

“You forget yourself, Aunt,” said Pulcheria with ice in her voice. “These are affairs of state in which you have no say. And you won’t speak to the Emperor in that tone.”

“It won’t work,” I said, ignoring her. “No one can successfully govern the West from Constantinople. My father experienced that for himself and made a wise choice to divide rule between two Emperors. You will fail.”

The advisors murmured to each other, and Theodosius’s guards twitched their fingers over the hilts of their swords. It was madness to confront the Emperor in such a way but I couldn’t stop. Too much was at stake. “My son has a legitimate claim to the throne,” I said.

“He’s eight years old,” said Theodosius.

“I can be his Regent,” I replied, and everyone fell silent.

A thin smile appeared on Pulcheria’s face and her dark eyes glittered. “So, Aunt, you harbor great ambitions. And yet you left Ravenna so willingly. Straying far from the throne is never a good idea.”

Theodosius stood. “Enough. Aunt, if you wish to cooperate with us, we’d welcome your assistance, as your experience in the West can be of value to us. But if you choose to question my authority, the consequences will be severe. As for my ability to rule in the West, Flavius Castinus has agreed to represent me in Ravenna. As you know, he was a favorite of your brother’s and should be well accepted at the court. I have every confidence that this will work.”

Castinus had been appointed Magister Militum after Marcus had resigned. He was a powerful and popular figure and would have the total support of the army. Theodosius had done well to choose him as his agent, but I still believed that the Senate and the people of Ravenna would be unhappy with the Emperor’s action.

I turned and walked away through the crowd. The courtiers’ faces expressed disbelief or horror at the way I had spoken to their Emperor but I didn’t care. Theodosius was despicable, grabbing for power that wasn’t his. I hated him at that moment, and I hated Honorius. Even in death, my brother turned my life upside down, reaching from his grave to torment me one more time. If I were still in Ravenna, I would have claimed the throne for Valentinian and could have been sure of success. But now I was far away and had been outmaneuvered by my nephew.