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Authors: Carrie Bedford

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I found Aurelia waiting in the hallway outside the audience chamber.

“What has happened?” my friend asked. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Chapter 46

 

 

“You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Marcus remarked.

I stopped pacing and looked at him.
 
We’d been waiting for the past half hour for the meeting to start. Aurelia sat quietly, threading her handkerchief through her fingers.

“I wish you’d sit down,” suggested Marcus and I did, drumming my fingers on the arms of my chair.

“Johannes is just a civil servant,” I said for the hundredth time. News had arrived several days earlier that Johannes, previously Honorius’s chief secretary, had seized the throne. As I’d predicted, Theodosius’s attempt to rule the Western Empire had failed. There had been riots in the city and dissension among the advisors and senators. As the situation deteriorated, Theodosius’s representative, Castinus, had lent his willing support to Johannes in a move to save his own skin.
 

 
Since the news had been received, Theodosius and Pulcheria had held a series of meetings with their Supreme Council and there’d been flurries of correspondence, with couriers arriving at all times of the day and night. Theodosius hadn’t invited me to any of his meetings until this morning.

But I hadn’t sat quietly by. I’d begun my own campaign to put forward Valentinian as Emperor, writing letters to my friends in Ravenna and in Rome, and to Boniface in Africa. My old friend, General Felix, had promised to bring the Goth army from Gallia to support me if it came to military action.
 

A bell rang somewhere in the city, marking the hour. “They’ll be here in a few minutes,” Marcus said. “Are we all ready?”

I jumped up. Aurelia stood. The doors opened and Theodosius and Pulcheria entered, followed by their retinue of ministers and advisors.

Theodosius opened the meeting without mincing words. “We will not accept Johannes as Emperor of the Western Empire,” he said. “The throne belongs to the house of Theodosius the Great, my grandfather, and it is an affront to his memory that an administrative functionary usurps it. Our duty today is to prepare our appeal to the Senate to reverse his appointment.”

“Will Johannes resist?” asked one of the ministers, looking at the floor and not at the Emperor.

“Undoubtedly,” said Theodosius. “He has the backing of General Aetius, who brings with him an army of Huns.”

The room resonated with gasps of shock and indignant murmurs. “Huns?”

“Aetius is backing Johannes?” I asked in disbelief. This was the first I’d heard of it. The courtiers muttered to each other, and Marcus quickly explained.

“Aetius was a hostage of the Huns for several years and finally befriended his captors,” he said.
 
“The imperial court encouraged his friendship with the Huns as it was an effective way of reducing any risk that they would attack the Empire. Aetius has used them before in fighting against rebels in Gallia.”

“Yes, and we believe that he would now use that army against us if we confront Johannes,” said Theodosius. “So we must plan for military action in addition to a diplomatic envoy.”

“War,” murmured Marcus, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said.

I knew what he was thinking. Anything that hinted of civil war was anathema to him. His great mentor and predecessor, Stilicho, had died rather than risk factional fighting within the Empire.

Marcus nodded his agreement, and looked at Theodosius.
 

“Your Imperial Highness,” he said. “I understand your desire to displace Johannes, but who do you intend to put in his place? Castinus has already failed to hold that position secure for you.”

“As I said, the throne belongs to the house of Theodosius the Great. Therefore, we have decided to support the claim of Valentinian.”

I heard the words but could hardly believe them. This was what I had hoped for, and what Theodosius had so adamantly refused a few months previously.
 

“Nephew, I’m delighted to hear that,” I said.

He looked at me with his dark, expressionless eyes and no hint of emotion on his face.

“It’s the only solution,” he said. “Valentinian is the logical choice and we’ll do all we can to support him.”

“With myself as his Regent,” I said.

Theodosius nodded. “Yes, with you as Regent until he reaches the age of sixteen.”

I wanted to throw my arms in the air and hug everyone in the room, but Pulcheria was staring at me with her lips pursed in a thin, pale line, and I opted to stay calm.

“My preference is to win the crown by presenting our complaints and appeals to Johannes and the Senate,” I said. “I have no desire to fight Johannes if we can avoid it.”

Theodosius inclined his head in agreement. “That is our wish also. We’ll send four ministers to the court in Ravenna to present our complaints to Johannes,” he said, pointing to the men he had chosen.
 

“Nevertheless, we’ll meet again soon to begin our plans for a military campaign, in case it should be required,” added Theodosius.

Anxious to be alone with my friends, I requested permission to leave, and the three of us returned to my rooms. Accompanied by several of Theodosius’s guards, we said nothing during the long walk back. My mind whirled with jumbled thoughts. My dream of ruling the Western Empire was within my grasp but I feared that overthrowing Johannes would not be easy.
 

As soon as the doors to my rooms closed behind us, Aurelia hugged me. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “They are going to support you and Valentinian. You’re going to be Empress.”

“We have a lot to do to get to that point,” said Marcus, and took a seat on a couch near a window. He drummed his fingers on the head of his cane. “We have to hope that the diplomatic envoy can find a way to convince Johannes to stand down. Otherwise, we may have to face a bloody battle. Aetius and his Huns will be formidable opponents.”

“We’ll have the support of Theodosius’s army,” I said. I told a servant to bring some wine, and sat down opposite Marcus. “The armies would be well matched, don’t you think?”

“Yes, maybe. But that’s not the problem. It’s fighting that is the problem. For years, Rome was torn apart by military coups, one after the other. I’d do anything I could to avoid going to war to win the throne, even for you, Placidia.”

I leaned forward towards him. “I understand, Marcus. I do. But I’m not going to give up the crown and walk away. You know that.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Aurelia took a seat next to her husband. “Theodosius is not going to accept Johannes as Emperor,” she said. “So unless Johannes steps down, there’ll be a war, regardless of what any of us want.”
 

“We must hope that Johannes realizes that he can’t rule without the support of the East,” I said. “And that he’ll do the sensible thing.”

“He never struck me as the belligerent type,” said Marcus. “In fact, I thought of him as being rather quiet and flexible. It surprised me that he rose as high as he did in Honorius’s court.”

He took a drink of his wine and ran his finger around the rim of the goblet. In the ensuing silence,
 
I heard the children laughing and shouting in the gardens outside the window and stood up to look out at them.
 

“I’ll miss this place,” I said.
 

“So will I,” said Aurelia in a slightly shaky voice and
 
I turned to see my friend’s eyes welling with tears. “We’ve been happy here. It’ll be difficult to leave," she continued.

Marcus shrugged. “It’s probably just as well we're going. Placidia and Pulcheria will be hard pushed to maintain this pretense of family unity for very long. One of them would end up killing the other sooner or later.”
 

Aurelia laughed and I smiled at Marcus, grateful to him for lightening the mood.
 

“Still,” he said. “I too will miss Constantinople. I’d grown accustomed to the prospect of retirement here.”

Aurelia grasped his hand and held it tightly. I felt my chest tighten. Yet again, I was displacing my friends and family, and cracking open the fragile shell of comfort and security that we had worked so hard to create since leaving Ravenna.

“Perhaps this is wrong,” I said.
 

“What is?” asked Aurelia.
 

“Trying to go back. We… no, not we... I made the choice to come here. I uprooted all of you and made you move hundreds of miles from home. What right do I have to make everyone do that again? We’re safe here and our life is good. The staff have settled and the children seem happy. Perhaps we should stay and be grateful for what we have.”

Aurelia was looking at me as though I had sprouted a second head. “Placidia, what are you thinking? You can’t take our silly whining seriously. Of course we’ll all go back to Ravenna. I can’t think of anything better to do with our lives at this point than to help put Valentinian on the throne where he belongs.”

“I should never have run away from Ravenna in the first place,” I said. “I’ve put us in a terrible position.”

“Not so,” said Marcus, pushing himself to his feet with his cane. “Honorius has put us in this position. All he had to do was name Valentinian and there would be no conflict. But he feared giving you that much power, Placidia. He was always so threatened by you.”

“Well,” I said. “It appears that he’s had the final say by staying silent on the subject of his successor. Now we must face the consequences.”

 

Chapter 47

 

 

For several weeks, we waited impatiently for news from the diplomats who had been sent to Ravenna. Finally, late one afternoon, a courier galloped in with the message we had been dreading. Johannes had initially refused to meet with the envoys, making them wait outside the palace for more than a week before agreeing to see them. When he finally admitted them, he gave them just a few minutes of his time, long enough to make it clear that he intended to remain Emperor at all costs. Military action, he said, did not scare him. He had the Roman army at his command, and full support from Aetius and the Huns.
 

Summoned to the throne room, I thought that Theodosius looked shaken. His face was pale and his forehead gleamed with perspiration, in spite of the arrival of cooler autumn weather. Pulcheria, however, was incensed and for once, I felt a connection with my niece.
 

“His behavior is offensive to us all,” Pulcheria said. “It’s time to prepare for war and to make plans for Placidia’s return to Ravenna.”

Theodosius sent orders for the imperial advisors to gather at once and as soon as the messengers had left the chamber, I spoke.

“Nephew, I think it is time to make public your recognition of my position and that of my son. My title of Augusta should be reinstated. And Valentinian should be named Augustus, as is usual for heirs to the throne.”

Theodosius didn’t answer but he stood up and paced to the door and back. I’d seen him do this before when he was giving thought to some serious matter. Finally he came to a standstill in front of me.

“I agree that you should be given the title of Augusta again. Then there can be no doubt in the minds of Johannes and his followers of my support for you. For Valentinian, however, I would confer the title of Caesar…”

“He is the next Emperor,” I interrupted. “He should be known as Valentinian Augustus.”

“Caesar will indicate his status well enough,” snapped Theodosius.

“I don’t agree,” I replied.

Pulcheria held up her hand for silence. “You must consider this, Aunt,” she said. “In the event that the battle is lost and you do not regain the throne, your only option will be to return to Constantinople.”

“And you don’t want my son walking around here with the title of Augustus,” I said, seeing where this was leading.
 

Pulcheria gave a pinched smile. “I’m glad to see you understand our view on this. It would be very… difficult.”

Yes, I thought, particularly as Valentinian grew older and perhaps jealous of his cousin’s position of power. I could see why it would make Theodosius uncomfortable and, in truth, I agreed with him. Valentinian would be Emperor when the time was right. For now he was too young to care about a title. The most important thing was that we overthrow Johannes and establish ourselves back in Ravenna. But I was slightly shocked that my nephew was even contemplating the idea of defeat. It made me wonder if I was underestimating the forces ranged against me.

“Good.” Theodosius clapped his hands together. “We are agreed.”

As if to make up for the disagreement over the title, Pulcheria asked me to sit by her side for the meeting. While the audience chamber filled, she gave me a gold solidus. “See how Johannes attempts to consolidate his position,” she said drily. “The envoy sent this back with the messengers.”

I took the coin. On the front was an image of Johannes with his bowl-shaped haircut and beard. Very few men in Ravenna wore beards; Honorius hadn’t liked them, yet he had tolerated it in his secretary. I flipped the coin over. On the back, Johannes stood upright, holding a standard in one hand and a statue of a winged Victory in the other. The small initials “RV” near the edge of the coin showed that it had been minted in Ravenna. I turned it over in my hands several times and gave it back to Pulcheria. It was hard to imagine this interloper living in the imperial apartments, like a pernicious weed in a garden of beautiful roses.
 

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