The Last Legion (41 page)

‘No, Caesar, no . . . it’s just that I’m trying . . .’

‘Trying to do what?’

‘To remember.’

*

The pontoon bridge, freed from its anchors, had been swept away by the current at great speed. It had held together horizontally at first, foreboding a catastrophe. A huge boulder sat in the middle of the river not half a mile away; it would certainly break the fragile convoy in two. Ambrosinus immediately foresaw the danger and shouted: ‘To the outermost boat, hurry!’ He was the first to crawl over, grabbing on where he could to avoid falling into the water. The others followed him, and as their weight accumulated on the pontoon furthest to the left, it picked up speed and edged forward, assuming the head position. The other floats shifted rapidly behind it. Thus stabilized, the convoy passed to the right of the rock, skimming it but avoiding impact, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

‘We need poles to use as oars,’ said Ambrosinus. ‘Try to fish some branches out of the current.’

‘We can dismantle part of the boats,’ proposed Vatrenus.

‘No, that would just make us go faster and we’d lose stability; the floats trailing behind us are keeping us in trim. We need something to row with, quickly.’

There were no big branches in the water, just lightweight sticks that wouldn’t serve their purpose. Batiatus looked towards the rail. ‘Will this do?’ he shouted to be heard over the rushing waters. Ambrosinus nodded and the giant easily pulled out the left railing, a long, roughly-squared pole, and took a stance near Ambrosinus who had become the helmsman of that strange vessel. The speed of the current was increasing and there were rapids up ahead: the water was seething and foaming from the middle of the river almost all the way to the right bank. Ambrosinus ordered Batiatus to drive the pole down on the left, as deep as he could and with all the strength he had. Batiatus carried out the task with unsuspected expertise and the pontoon veered to the left, skirting the rapids, but the tail had not adjusted so quickly to the rapid change of direction of the front floats, and the last boat crashed violently against the rocks and flew into pieces.

The men turned to watch the shattered bits of the wreck being carried away by the whirling rapids, then immediately turned their attention to how they could maintain an equilibrium so continuously threatened by the jarring impact with rocks and waves. It felt something like being in the saddle of an untamed horse, as the boats bounced and jerked their way down the river. The bottom and banks were irregular and the rocky outcrops jutting towards the centre created sudden whirlpools and vortexes. The river bed would widen and they would slow down unexpectedly, only to pick up speed just as suddenly as the river took a turn downhill. The occupants of the bizarre craft were under continuous stress in the mere attempt to maintain their balance.

At a certain point, the torrent slowed and the rough bottom seemed to level out so that they thought they were out of danger, but large gravel beds began to appear, along with the no less devastating risk of running aground. In one of their sudden turns, Orosius lost his balance, rolled over the planks and fell into the water.

‘Orosius has fallen overboard!’ cried Demetrius in distress. ‘Hurry, help me, the current is pulling him under!’ Vatrenus used his sword to cut one of the ropes which served as a stay and he threw it out repeatedly, but Orosius couldn’t manage to grab it.

‘If we don’t get him out, the cold will kill him,’ shouted Ambrosinus.

Without saying a word, Livia took one end of the rope and tied it to her waist, and gave the other end to Vatrenus. ‘Hold on tight!’ she said, and dived into the water, swimming energetically towards Orosius who was at the mercy of the current and fast losing his capacity to react. She reached him and grabbed him by the belt, shouting: ‘I’ve got him! Pull me in!’ Vatrenus and the others pulled on the rope with everything they had as Batiatus tried to keep the bow as straight as possible, until first Livia, then Orosius, were hoisted on board. They were completely soaked through and freezing and Orosius was practically unconscious. Their comrades covered them with their blankets, so they could remove their wet clothes and try to dry off somehow. Their teeth were chattering and both were deathly pale. Orosius barely had the time to stammer out ‘Thank you,’ before he fainted.

Vatrenus approached Livia and lay a hand on her shoulder. ‘And to think I didn’t want you with us. You are strong and generous, girl. Happy is the man who will someday join his life with yours.’ Livia responded with a tired smile and went to curl up near Ambrosinus.

The current finally slowed towards evening and the river became wider and wider as they reached the high plains, but they still found no place to anchor and wait for Aurelius, who everyone imagined was following them as fast as he could. The next morning they found themselves at a confluence with another course of water on their left, and yet it wasn’t until the next day, towards evening, when the river had finally reached the plains, that they succeeded in taking the craft ashore and tying it with a rope to a stake. Their great river journey had come to an end for the moment. Now they would wait patiently for the group to reunite, for the little army to find its leader and its emperor.

Ambrosinus, perhaps the most worried among them, tried none the less to inspire the others with confidence and tranquillity, and the peace that reigned in that place did much towards convincing them; the shepherds bringing home their flocks, the red line left by the sun on the clouds as it disappeared over the distant horizon, the gentle bends of the river and the slow rowing of boatmen descending the current to find a shelter for the night. ‘God has assisted us,’ he said, ‘and He will continue to do so, for we are in the right and we are persecuted. I am certain that we will soon be joined with our companions.’

‘It’s been mostly thanks to you,’ said Vatrenus. ‘I don’t know how you managed to steer this wreck through rapids, shallows and whirlpools. I think that you, in reality, are a magician,
magister
.’

‘Just the principle of Archimedes, my good friend,’ replied Ambrosinus. ‘A vessel deeply immersed in the water becomes faster, and will tow lighter ones along if the current is strong, whereas if the current is slow, the vessel offers greater resistance. All that was needed was to rearrange the weight as soon as we arrived in tranquil waters: it was sufficient to move Batiatus to the end pontoon. Now I would like to go ashore with Livia, who has some money, if I’m not mistaken, and buy a little food for us: milk and cheese should be abundant around these parts, and perhaps bread as well.’

They found a village just a little way off called Magia, where the people spoke a Celtic dialect not too different from Ambrosinus’s native language, but the presbyter officiating over Christian rites in the small church there spoke surprisingly good Latin as well. They learned that the river they had travelled on was the Rhine, the largest river in Europe and one of the biggest of the world, second not even to the Tigris and Euphrates which flowed through the garden of Eden. Had they continued they would have soon encountered a large lake, followed by impassable rapids; the only way to get by them was over land at that point, after which the river ran free once again. Ambrosinus nodded. ‘That will be our way: descending the current we will avoid any number of dangers and perhaps even reach the Ocean, but first we must find a boat worthy of that name. On a bridge of boats tossed this way and that by the current, it’s already a miracle we arrived this far safe and sound!’

He considered the situation further north as well. The Franks had occupied vast territories in what was once Gaul, the richest and most faithful province of the empire. The central part had remained an island of Romanity, governed by a general named Siagrius who had proclaimed himself king of the Romans.

‘I would say that eventually it will be best for us to go ashore on the river’s west bank,’ he concluded, ‘and continue by land until we reach the channel of Britannia: there we will be at less than one day’s navigation from my homeland. Lord God! How much time has passed! Who knows how many things have changed, how many of the people I once knew are now gone . . . how many friends have forgotten me.’

‘You speak as though we were already in view of the coast!’ said Livia. ‘Yet our journey is still long, and no less fraught with danger than the road we have already travelled.’

‘You are right,’ replied Ambrosinus, ‘but our heart is swifter than our feet, swifter than the swiftest of steeds, and is afraid of nothing. Is that not so?’

‘It is,’ admitted Livia.

‘Don’t you ever think of your city on the sea? Don’t you miss it?’

‘Terribly, and yet I would never have left Romulus.’

‘And Aurelius, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘I suppose so, but, in all this time we’ve spent together, only once did he admit that he had anything like feelings for me. It was that night at Fanum, when we knew that the next day we’d be taking our separate ways and that we’d never see each other again. Not even I had the courage then to pronounce the words that perhaps he expected from me.’

Ambrosinus took on a serious expression. ‘Aurelius is tormented by a painful doubt that occupies his mind. Until he resolves his enigma there is no room for anything else in his soul. You can be certain of that.’

They had returned within sight of the river and Ambrosinus suddenly changed the subject. ‘We must find a boat,’ he said. ‘It is absolutely essential. If Aurelius has managed to escape Wulfila, he might be here in a couple of days’ time and we must be ready to set sail. You prepare dinner; I hope to return soon with some good news.’

He left her and headed over to the wharf, where several boats were moored for the night. Some fishermen had laid out the day’s catch on wooden benches, drawing a number of buyers. The lanterns which began to glimmer on board the boats shone their flickering light on the surface of the great river.

A
MBROSINUS RETURNED LATE THAT
night with a couple of porters carrying a heap of sheepskins, covers and blankets, and announced that he had come to an agreement with a boatman whose job it was to transport loads of rock-salt towards the north by descending the current of the Rhine. He was willing to take them along, all the way to Argentoratum, for a slight fee; if all went well, they’d be there within the week. What’s more, the boatman had sold him this wealth of bedstuffs for a pittance, ensuring them a warm night’s sleep under these cold, damp skies.

However, the old man’s hearty good cheer contrasted acutely with the sense of uncertainty and anxiety about the fate of Aurelius and Romulus that none of them could shake off. They’d had no contact with them, and realized that all the hardship and danger they’d faced together had no sense at all without the boy. They’d bound their own destinies to his, and his fate depended on them and them alone. The very meaning of their existence seemed to have slipped away without him.

Ambrosinus sat on the deck with his legs crossed, took a little bread and cheese from one of the shields which served as their table, and started to eat listlessly.

‘I’ve checked and re-checked my calculations,’ said Vatrenus. ‘Considering the type of terrain the river crosses, we should have at least two days’ march on them.’

‘You mean to say that we’ll have to wait all night, all tomorrow and all the next day?’ asked Orosius.

‘It might take that long, but I wouldn’t be so sure. Aurelius will try to put as much space as possible between him and his pursuers, and Juba’s a strong, fast horse. They’ll be resting as little as possible and trying to make good time,’ offered Demetrius.

‘Trying,’ objected Batiatus, ‘but the days are awfully short now, and it’s impossible, or damned dangerous, to travel at night in the mountains. I know Aurelius doesn’t want to risk falling into a precipice, or laming his horse. I’d recalculate, keeping in mind that they’ll only be able to take on short distances at a time.’

Each expressed his own point of view, and it soon became clear that none of their estimates matched up.

‘They might be way up there, on those high peaks, right now,’ said Livia, gazing at the mountains. ‘They’ll be cold and hungry and completely worn out. We’ve been much luckier, even though our journey was so eventful.’

Vatrenus tried to inject a note of optimism. ‘Perhaps we’re worrying over nothing. Wulfila may not have succeeded in crossing the torrent, or he may have lost a great deal of time travelling up and down its length looking for a ford. Perhaps Aurelius can afford to take his time and get here when he gets here. He knows that we’ll be waiting for him in a visible position, and that we won’t leave this floating convoy of ours until he meets up with us.’

‘Couldn’t we try to set up a light signal of some sort?’ suggested Demetrius. ‘If they were up there, they’d see it, and it would give them heart. They’d know we’re here waiting for them. My shield is made of metal; if we polished it . . .’

‘No, better not,’ objected Ambrosinus. ‘They know we’re here anyway, and they’ll find us because they’ll keep to the river. A light signal would attract Wulfila as well; you can be sure that he hasn’t given up the chase. He’ll have no peace until he’s got rid of every last one of us, mark my words. Try to rest now, all of you. It’s been a most tiring day, and we have no idea of what awaits us tomorrow.’

‘I’ll take the first shift,’ said Livia. ‘I’m not tired.’ She sat at the bow, on the edge of the boat, with her legs dangling over the side. The others laid out Ambrosinus’s sheepskins on the deck, stretching out close together to stay warm and covering up with the blankets. Ambrosinus sat off to one side, his eyes piercing through the darkness, then he stood and joined Livia.