The Last Legion (33 page)

The next day the sky cleared and the inland temperature dropped; the warmer, more humid air which came from the sea condensed on the lower slopes of the Apennines to create a dense curtain of fog that would keep them completely hidden from any search parties roaming below. As they neared the plain on the evening of the second day they had to decide whether to descend and cross it or to remain on the Apennine ridge which would take them westward. This would have certainly been the easier and perhaps the safer route, but it meant they would be forced to travel along the Ligurian coast towards Gaul, where they would surely find garrisons of Odoacer’s men alerted to their possible passage. Wulfila may even have sent someone capable of recognizing the fugitives to man each of the passes; dozens of his warriors knew both Romulus and his tutor quite well, having accompanied them to Capri and guarded the boy’s prison. The map that Ambrosinus had providentially copied at the
mansio
in Fanum became precious as night fell and they gathered around the campfire to decide their itinerary and strategy.

‘I would refrain from moving to the plain and crossing Aemilia now,’ said Ambrosinus. ‘We’re still too close to Ravenna, and Odoacer’s spies will be watching for us. I say we stay in the mountains, continuing westward at mid-slope until we are even with Placentia. At that point we’ll have to decide whether to go on until we reach Postumia and from there descend to Gaul, or to turn north towards Lake Verbanus. We’ll be close to the pass that puts the Po valley in communication with western Rhaetia, which is now controlled by the Burgundians.’

Ambrosinus also recalled that while journeying to Italy he had found a trail near the pass which wasn’t too impracticable and which led through the territory of the Moesians to a Rhaetian village which was practically at the watershed.

‘If you want my advice,’ he concluded, ‘I would reject the first route, because the area is heavily frequented and we would be exposed to constant danger. The northern itinerary is much more arduous, and safer for that very reason.’

Aurelius agreed, as did Batiatus and Vatrenus. Ambrosinus couldn’t help but notice the unanimous reaction of the three comrades: they knew that choosing the western route meant passing through Dertona, where the fields still gleamed white with the unburied bones of their fallen mates.

‘I
T’S VERY LONG THAT WAY
,’ observed Livia, breaking the silence that had suddenly fallen over their little camp. ‘We’ll need money and we haven’t any.’

‘That’s true,’ admitted Ambrosinus. ‘To buy food, to pay for passage on the bridges and ferries, forage for the horses on the highlands and lodging for us, when it becomes too cold to sleep in the open.’

‘There’s only one way,’ said Livia. ‘Stephanus must be back in Rimini by now, in his villa at the sea. He owes us the reward money for the mission we completed. Even if he can’t pay it all, I don’t think he’ll refuse to help us. I know where the villa is; I once met Antemius there, and it won’t be difficult for me to reach it.’

‘Can we trust him?’ asked Aurelius.

‘He was the one who came to Fanum to warn us and offer us a means of escape. Stephanus has to survive, just like the rest of us, and adapt to all these sudden changes in the balance of power, but if Antemius trusted him, it must have been with good reason.’

‘That’s what worries me. Antemius betrayed us.’

‘That’s what I thought at first as well, but then I realized that the change of throne in Constantinople must have put him in an impossible situation. Perhaps they found him out, tortured him . . . it’s difficult to imagine what really happened. In any case, the rest of you won’t risk anything. I’m going alone.’

‘No, I’m coming with you,’ insisted Aurelius.

‘It’s better you don’t,’ Livia replied. ‘You’re needed here, alongside Romulus. I’ll leave before dawn, and if all goes well, I’ll be back the day after, towards evening. If you don’t see me, go on without me. You’ll manage to survive somehow, even if you never get Stephanus’s money. You’ve been through worse.’

‘But are you sure you can go back and forth in so little time?’ asked Ambrosinus.

‘Certainly. If nothing unexpected happens, I’ll be at Stephanus’s villa before dark. The next day I’ll leave before dawn and I’ll be back here to spend the night with you.’

Her comrades looked at each other perplexed.

‘What is there to be afraid of ?’ asked Livia in a reassuring tone. ‘Before you met me, you always got along just fine. And you know I’m capable of getting the job done; you’ve seen me in action, haven’t you?’

Ambrosinus lifted his eyes from the map. ‘Listen to me, Livia,’ he said. ‘Splitting up means creating a difficult situation. If the wait lasts longer than expected, those left behind think up the strangest explanations, counting the steps of the missing person, calculating and recalculating how long his return should take, and the conjectures invented to explain a delay never match up with what is really happening. On the other side, an unexpected delay causes no end of worry; the person thinks, if only we’d have agreed upon a few hours more, my friends would be spared all this anguish. So, Livia, my friend, what we need is a second appointment. If we don’t see you the day after tomorrow in the evening, we’ll remain here all night none the less; we won’t leave before dawn the following day. If we still haven’t seen you, we’ll know that some insurmountable obstacle has placed itself between us. I want to show you where we’ll be crossing the Alps. See, here, on the map, the Moesian pass,’ he said, pointing at it. ‘You can keep this; I’ll trace out the route for you. I already know all the details by heart. It will guide you to the pass, so you can join up with us on your own if necessary.’

‘Excellent solution,’ approved Livia. ‘I’m going to prepare for my departure.’ She picked up her gear and went towards her horse, who was grazing not too far away.

Aurelius followed her. ‘Rimini,’ he said, ‘is very close to home for you. Just a few hours’ boat ride and you’ll be in your city on the lagoon. What will you do?’

‘I’ll come back,’ replied Livia. ‘As I promised.’

‘We’re going towards the unknown,’ Aurelius insisted, ‘following the dreams of an old man, accompanying a boy emperor hunted by fierce enemies. I don’t think it’s wise for you to continue on this journey. Your city on the water is waiting for you. Your friends will be worried about you, not having seen you in such a long time. You do have people you love there, don’t you?’

Livia stared off over the valley, over the sea of fog from which only the tips of the tallest trees emerged, along with a little town perched at the top of a hill. Slender wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys of the houses like evening prayers towards a starry sky, and the barking of the dogs was muted by the cold, dim atmosphere that lay heavily on the plains. Since they’d left the
mansio
at Fanum she and Aurelius had never been alone, leading each to believe that the other was avoiding even the briefest moment of intimacy, as if they feared that there would never be another reason to fall into each other’s arms, never another moment as pressing as their farewell in Fanum. It was like watching the sun sink into a foggy horizon and fearing that it would never rise the next day.

‘Would you ever have expected such an end to our endeavour?’ Aurelius spoke again.

‘No,’ replied Livia, ‘but that’s not very important right now.’

‘What is important then?’

‘Why we’re doing what we are. Why are you continuing with them? Why have you decided to follow them?’

‘Because I care about the boy. He has no one else to defend him. Half of the world wants him dead, and the other half wouldn’t mind it at all if he died. That young boy is carrying a weight on his shoulders that will end up crushing him. Or maybe the answer is even more simple: I don’t know where else to go, what else to do.’

‘And what makes you think your shoulders are big enough to carry that weight for him? Like Hercules, holding up the vault of the heavens for Atlas.’

‘Your sarcasm is unfair,’ replied Aurelius, turning away.

‘Aurelius, forgive me,’ said Livia. ‘I’m sorry. It’s myself that I’m angry at: for letting myself be tricked into this, for dragging the rest of you into this crazy adventure without being able to repay you or reward you, for exposing all of you to such mortal danger.’

‘And for having lost control of the mission. Now you are no longer leading the others, but following along without knowing where we’re going or what awaits us.’

‘Of course, you’re right,’ she admitted. ‘I’m used to making plans and carrying them out. I’m upset by the unexpected.’

‘Is that why you’re avoiding me?’

‘It’s you who are avoiding me,’ shot back Livia.

‘We’re afraid of our feelings . . . maybe.’

‘Feelings . . . you don’t know what you’re talking about, soldier,’ Livia lashed out. ‘How many friends have you seen killed on the battlefield, how many towns and villages burnt to the ground, how many women raped? How can you still think that there is any room left for feelings in a world like ours?’

‘You haven’t always felt that way: when you spoke to me about your homeland, when you covered Romulus with your cloak and held him close on your horse.’

‘That was different. The mission was practically concluded. The boy was going to be taken to a place where he would be cared for and respected, you were going to be paid and so was I. The promises for the future were all good, just then.’

‘I can’t believe that was the only reason.’

‘All right. I was just a step away from finding a man I’d been searching for, for years.’

‘And that man didn’t let himself be found, did he?’

‘No, he didn’t. Out of fear, cowardice, how am I to know?’

‘Think what you like. I can’t play the part of someone I’m not. I’m not the hero you’re looking for, and not enough of an actor to pretend that I am. I’d say that I’m a good combatant, and that makes me a fairly common man these days. Nothing more than that. You want someone or something that you lost that night you fled from Aquileia. That young man who gave up his place on the boat for you and your mother represents your roots, roots ripped from the ground before you were grown. Something died in you that night, something that you’ve never managed to revive. Then, suddenly, you find a stranger, a legionary fleeing through the swamps of Ravenna, hunted by a band of barbarians, and you think you’ve found your ghost. It was just the similarity of the situation, nothing more, that struck up that association in your mind: the legionary, the barbarians, the boat, the lagoon . . . It was like a dream, Livia, understand? It happened like in a dream.’

He gazed into her eyes, damp with tears that she tried fiercely to blink back, gritting her teeth. He continued: ‘What did you expect? That I would follow you back to your city on the water? That I would help you to revive Aquileia, lost for ever? You know, that might even have been possible. Anything is possible – just as nothing is possible – for a man in my condition, a man who has lost everything, even his memories. But one thing has remained. It’s the only thing that has remained to me: my word as a Roman. The concept is obsolete, I realize that: stuff you just read about in history books. Yet it’s an anchor for someone like me, a point of reference if you will, and I gave my word to a dying man. I promised to save his son. I tried to convince myself that a single attempt had exonerated me, that I could give it up even though I’d failed, but no, the one try wasn’t enough: I keep hearing his words in my mind, and there’s no way I can be free of them. That’s why I followed you to Misenum and that’s why I’ll continue to stay by the boy’s side until I know that he is safe somewhere: in Britannia, at the ends of the earth, who knows?’

‘What about me?’ asked Livia. ‘Don’t I represent anything to you?’

‘You certainly do,’ answered Aurelius. ‘You represent everything I can’t have.’

Livia hurled a look of wounded passion and disappointment at him, but didn’t say a word. She walked away and continued her preparations.

Ambrosinus approached her with the little roll of parchment on which he’d traced their itinerary. ‘This is your map,’ he said. ‘I hope you’ll never need to use it and that we’ll see each other two days from now.’

‘I hope so as well,’ replied Livia.

‘Perhaps this mission of yours isn’t really necessary . . .’

‘It’s indispensable,’ she replied. ‘Imagine that one of the horses goes lame, or that one of us falls ill, or that we have to find a boat. If we have money, our journey will proceed much more quickly and smoothly. If we’re forced to look for help as we go along, we’ll have to come out of hiding and we’ll certainly be noticed. Don’t fear, Ambrosinus. I’ll be back.’

‘I’m certain of that, but until you are, we’ll all be worried. Especially Aurelius.’

Livia lowered her head without speaking.

‘Try to get some rest,’ said Ambrosinus, as he left her.

*

Livia awoke before dawn, fitted her horse’s bit and took her blanket and weapons.

‘Take care, I beg of you,’ sounded Aurelius’s voice behind her.

‘I’ll be careful,’ replied Livia. ‘I can take care of myself.’

Aurelius pulled her towards him and kissed her. Livia gave in to his embrace for a few moments, then leapt on to the saddle. ‘You take care of yourself,’ she told him. She spurred on her horse and set off at a gallop. She rode through the forest until she reached the valley of the Ariminus river and continued at a steady pace along the bank for several hours, heading resolutely towards her destination. The sky was overcast again; huge puffy black clouds were being pushed in by the sea breeze, and it soon started to rain. Livia covered up as best she could and rode down a lonely path without meeting anyone but a few hurrying farmers or servants surprised by the bad weather on their way to the fields or to work.