The Last Legion (10 page)

When he had finished he stepped back to take a look at Juba. He was magnificent: fine, long legs, slender ankles, muscular chest, proud head, quivering nostrils, arched neck adorned with a splendid blue-black mane. He cleaned the saddle as well and adjusted the stirrups, and when he saw that Juba had had his full of food and water, he diligently saddled and bridled him, believing that he was a sign sent by his unknown ancestors from the other world. He took his sword belt and slung it over his shoulder, put on his hobnailed boots, took the horse by his bridle and headed to where the water was lowest.

‘Aren’t you forgetting anything?’ asked a voice behind him, and the echo reflected by the huge vault repeated ‘anything?’

Aurelius turned around with surprise and then embarrassment. Livia stood in front of him with a harpoon in her hand, wearing a sort of loin-cloth of tanned leather, with two bands of the same leather crossed over her breasts. She had just come out of the water which still dripped off her muscular body. She threw the fishing net she’d been holding in the other hand on to the ground in front of her. It was full of big mullet, still wriggling, and an enormous eel which twisted like a snake around the handle of the harpoon.

Aurelius said: ‘My horse came back.’

‘I can see that,’ replied Livia. ‘I also see that you were about to leave. You could have waited until I came back, to say “thank you”.’

‘I was leaving you my armour,’ he said, pointing to the cuirass, shield and helmet abandoned in the corner of the large room. ‘You can do a lot with it.’

Livia spat on the ground. ‘I can find all the scrap iron I need whenever I like.’

‘I would have come back, sooner or later, to thank you. I would have left you a message if I’d had something to write on. I can’t stand saying goodbye, going away. I wouldn’t have known what to say and . . .’

‘There’s nothing to say. Just go. Get out of here with your stuff and don’t ever come back. Nothing could be easier.’

‘It’s not like that. These last few days I’ve . . .’ He looked up slowly from the ground along her body as if afraid to meet her gaze. ‘I’ve never had anyone take care of me like this, a girl like you, so young and courageous. You’re like no one else I’ve ever met in my whole life. I thought that if I waited, each day would become more difficult for me . . . I was afraid . . . that I wouldn’t be able to leave.’ Livia did not answer.

His eyes moved up now to meet hers, but stopped again for a barely perceptible instant on the pendant she wore at her neck, the little silver eagle. Livia noticed, and when he finally looked into her eyes, they were not as bitter as he had expected. She was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and rough affection. ‘You don’t need to talk such nonsense. If you want, you can go. You don’t owe me anything.’

Aurelius could not say a word.

‘Where were you going?’ prompted Livia.

Aurelius lowered his head again. ‘I don’t know. Away. Far from these places, from the stink of these barbarians and from our own corruption. Far from this relentless decadence, from my own memories, far away from it all. And you? Will you stay in this swamp for ever?’

Livia drew closer: ‘It’s not the way you think it is,’ she said. ‘There’s hope being born in this swamp. And it’s not a swamp, it’s a lagoon. It’s full of life, and the breath of the sea.’

Juba snorted humbly and pawed at the ground as if he didn’t understand the delay. Livia grasped the medal that hung from her neck and held it tightly. Aurelius shook his head: ‘There’s no hope anywhere. Only destruction, pillaging, oppression.’

‘Then why did you try to abduct that boy?’

‘I didn’t want to abduct him. I wanted to free him.’

‘That’s hard to believe.’

‘It’s true, whether you believe it or not. It was his father who asked me to save him, as he lay dying. I got to the villa in Placentia after the massacre. I was coming from the field where my legion was already surrounded by a throng of enemies; I left them to seek help. When I found him he was still breathing. He begged me with the last life he had in him to save his son. What else could I do?’

‘You’re crazy. You’re lucky it didn’t go well. What would you have done with him if it had?’

‘I don’t know. Taken him somewhere with me. I would have taught him to work the land, raise bees, plant olive trees and milk goats. Like a true Roman.’

‘And you wouldn’t like to try again?’ rang out a voice behind them.

‘Stephanus! What are you doing here?’ demanded Livia. ‘Our pact was never by day and never here.’

‘You’re right, but there’s an urgent reason. They’ve left.’

‘For where?’

‘No one knows. They’ve taken via Romea, headed for Fanum. I believe they’ll go south on via Flaminia at some point. We’re trying to learn more.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Aurelius.

‘About freeing a boy,’ replied Stephanus, ‘and we need your help.’

Aurelius looked at him and shook his head incredulously: ‘A boy . . . Him?’

Stephanus nodded: ‘Him. Romulus Augustus Caesar, Emperor of the Romans.’

A
URELIUS SHOT AN AMAZED
look at the man, then turned towards his horse and started adjusting the saddle straps as if he were about to leave: ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said.

‘Why?’ insisted Stephanus. ‘You already tried once, and you were alone; it was hopeless from the start. Now we’re offering you our support and help, for the same identical mission, multiplying the chances for success. Why should you refuse?’

‘It was different before. I did it because it seemed right and because I thought I had a hope of succeeding by taking them completely by surprise. And I did nearly succeed. I don’t know what your motives are and I don’t know you. After my raid, surveillance will have been intensified. No one will manage to get close to the boy any more, that I’m sure of. Odoacer will have set his whole army around him.’

Stephanus drew closer: ‘I represent a group of senators who maintain direct contact with the Eastern Roman Empire. We’re convinced that this is the only way to prevent Italy and the West from sinking into complete barbarism. Our envoy met with Emperor Basiliscus in the Peloponnese and has returned with an important message. The emperor is willing to offer Romulus hospitality and protection at Constantinople, and to provide him with an annuity worthy of his rank.’

‘And that doesn’t seem suspicious to you?’ asked Aurelius Basiliscus, as far as I know, is nothing more than a usurper. How can you trust him? How do you know he won’t treat the child even worse than this barbarian?’

‘This barbarian had the child’s parents massacred,’ observed Stephanus. Aurelius turned towards him and met his firm and apparently impassable gaze. His Oriental accent reminded him of the way certain comrades from Epirus spoke.

‘What’s more,’ Stephanus continued, ‘he is destined for imprisonment without end in an isolated, inaccessible place, condemned to live with his nightmares and terror for the rest of his days, awaiting the moment in which any change in his warders’ mood decrees his death. Can you imagine the abominations a child could be subjected to at the mercy of those brutes?’

Aurelius remembered Romulus’s eyes at the moment in which he had been forced to let go, his shoulder pierced by an arrow: desperation, impotent rage, infinite bitterness. Stephanus must have noticed that his arguments were hitting their mark, and continued: ‘We have friends at Constantinople, very influential friends. They will be able to protect him.’

‘What about Julius Nepos?’ insisted Aurelius. ‘He has always been the East’s candidate for the Western throne. Why should Basiliscus change his mind now?’

Livia tried to intervene but Stephanus stopped her with a look: ‘Nepos has fallen completely out of favour; he’ll be left to grow old in his villa in Dalmatia, isolated from the rest of the world. We have a very ambitious plan in mind for this child, but in order to succeed we must shield him from all danger. He must receive an adequate education and training and grow up in the imperial house in a tranquil, serene position. He must not be touched by doubt or suspicion, until the moment comes when he is ready to reclaim his legacy.’

Livia decided to speak up. ‘Leave Aurelius alone,’ she said, turning towards Stephanus. ‘Fear is fear. He tried once, risked dying and has no intention of trying again.’

‘That’s right,’ confirmed Aurelius without batting an eye.

‘Exactly,’ shot back Livia. ‘We’ll do fine on our own. I’m the one that saved him, not the other way around. What direction did you say the convoy took?’

‘South,’ replied Stephanus. ‘They’re on the road for Fanum.’

‘They must mean to cross the Apennines.’

‘Most probably, but we’re not sure. We’ll soon find out.’

Aurelius continued to adjust the straps on his horse as if the conversation no longer involved him. Livia pretended not to notice and continued talking with Stephanus: ‘Is it true that Mledo has returned?’

‘Last night.’

‘Were there any prisoners?’

Aurelius spun around and his eyes glared with tension: fear, hope, trepidation. Those few words had managed to disintegrate his apparent equilibrium.

‘About fifty, I’d say, but I could be wrong; it was nearly dark.’

Aurelius came closer: ‘Did you recognize . . . anyone?’

‘How could I?’ replied Stephanus. ‘The only one that stood out was a gigantic black man, an Ethiopian, I’d say. At least six feet tall, loaded down with chains.’

‘Batiatus!’ exclaimed Aurelius, his face lighting up. ‘It has to be him!’ He grabbed Stephanus’s cloak: ‘He’s a friend; I fought alongside him for many years. I beg you, tell me where they’ve taken him. Other comrades may be with him.’

Stephanus looked at him with a touch of irony: ‘You’re ready to try another dramatic break-out?’

‘Will you help me or won’t you?’

‘Strange question for someone who has just refused his own help.’

Aurelius bowed his head: ‘I’ll do anything, but just tell me where they’ve been taken, if you can.’

‘To Classis, but that doesn’t mean much. That’s the port of Ravenna; from Classis you can go anywhere in the world.’

Aurelius showed signs of crumbling: his joy at learning that his friend was alive was crushed by the awareness that there was nothing he could do for him. Livia saw the grief and discouragement in his expression and felt pity for him: ‘They may be taking them to Misenus, near Naples. The other base of the imperial fleet is there; it’s almost completely out of commission, but they sometimes need rowers. It’s also the most important slave market on the peninsula. You can try to reach the base and get information. With a little time and patience you may be able to find him. If your friend is as big as Stephanus says, he certainly won’t pass unobserved.

‘Listen,’ continued the girl with a calmer, more conciliating tone, ‘I’ll be heading south to follow the convoy that’s accompanying the emperor. We can start off together, if you like. Then you’ll go your way, and I’ll go mine.’

‘You’re going to try and liberate the boy . . . alone?’

‘That’s my affair, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe not.’

‘And what could make you change your mind?’

‘If I found my comrades, would you help me to free them?’

Stephanus intervened: ‘There’s a large reward, ten thousand silver solidi, for whoever brings the boy to the old port of Fanum on the Adriatic sea. A ship will be waiting there to take him to the East every first day of the new moon, at dawn, for two months, beginning with the moon of December. The ship will be easy to recognize: a standard with a monogram of Constantine will be hoisted astern. With all that reward money you’ll be able to buy your friends back, if you find out where they are.’

‘But if I found them first, they could prove vital on this mission. They are the best combatants on earth, but above all they are Roman soldiers, loyal to the emperor,’ said Aurelius.

Stephanus nodded, seemingly satisfied: ‘What must I tell Antemius?’

‘Tell him we’ll be leaving today, and that I will keep him informed as best I can,’ said Livia.

‘I will,’ replied Stephanus. ‘Well then, good luck.’

‘We’ll need it,’ replied Livia. ‘I’ll let you out. I want to be sure no one has seen you.’

They reached Stephanus’s small, flat-bottomed wooden boat, designed for navigating the lagoon. A servant was sitting at the oars. Livia climbed with amazing agility on to a large willow whose branches stretched over the water. She scanned the area: not a soul to be seen. She signalled to Stephanus, who got into the boat. Livia stopped him: ‘What did Antemius offer Basiliscus to convince him to accept his proposal?’

‘This I do not know. Antemius doesn’t tell me everything, but in Constantinople everyone knows that nothing happens in the West without Antemius knowing about it. His prestige and power are enormous.’ Livia nodded. ‘That soldier . . . do you really think we can trust him?’

‘He’s like a small army on his own,’ admitted Livia. ‘I know a fighter when I see him. I can recognize the gaze of a lion, even if he’s wounded. But there’s something else in his eyes that reminds me of . . .’

‘Of what?’