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500 years ago, Caesar Augustus bragged that hed found Rome a city of brick and left it a city of marble. Mediolanum, the fortress
city in northwest Italia, remained a city of brick.
" Unacceptable!" The scroll with its wooden spindle flew
across the audience chamber, striking the mosaic of Honorius on the far wall. The terrified scribe who'd read it aloud stood
close by, shaking with fear. A very large and irritated Ricimer glared at the Emperor.
His Sacred Majesty Anthemius,
Representative of God on Earth, Augustus in the West, Dominus... winced. Their relationship had soured after the Germans favorite,
Romanus, was executed. Ricimer played tit-for tat by assassinating his Consul, Messius Phoebus. Things were getting ugly,
indeed.
He hated this place, didn't want to come here anyway. It was the price for losing the game of thrones in Constantinopolis.
His cousin Leo made it sound so easy. Smile. Wave at the People. Rule in the West. Re-introduce some culture to these benighted
and degenerate people. But it wasn't like that at all.
First he had to accept that horrid panegyric at his coronation
from that wretched Gallo-roman prattler Sidonius. Roma Dea, goddess of Ancient Rome beseeches Aurora, goddess of the East
to send a Hero... His Aching Imperial Arse! Well, hed given the prattler his bishopric, may it keep him far away.
Then
he'd married his daughter, Alypia, off to this semi-barbarian, 'Patrician'. And Ricimer made him nervous. The man was so coarse,
shouting at an imperial slave. His manners were absolutely bestial. If Ricimer were an animal he'd be a bear. A mad bear.
" Aegidius, Magister Militum of Gaul will neither receive nor obey commands from a Greekling Emperor ... "
Well, that part was true, he was Greek. The part about disobedience was unfortunate. Ricimer definitely looked like a
bear with his reddish hair bound up in that silly, barbaric, suebian topknot.
" Nor will he obey a German Patrician
...Has sworn friendship with Childeric and the Regnum Franci......Will soon celebrate same with Regnum Britannia to rid Gaul
of Romes enemies with further hope of removing all Romes enemies....... Insolent bastard!" Ricimer bellowed.
But
he was a German. At least Aegidius didn't tell Ricimer he looked like a bear, Anthemius thought. It had all seemed so promising
at first. Now there was disaster piled upon disaster. Africa still in the hands of Vandal Arians. Likewise, the Heretic Goths
in the south of Gaul, after having made a desert of Further Spain.
Bagaudae and refugees from Britain fomenting another
Rebellion in Armorica. According to the Bishop of Rome, the Britons themselves were rumored to have elected one of their numerous
petty kings Dux Bellicorum, Warlord. To fight Saxon invaders on the island or to invade Gaul? That was the question. So his
Priest had told him this morning.
"He is withholding their taxes to pay for 'the defense of Gaul against Euric
the Visigoth'. And if we won't send help could we just stay out of the way!" The Patrician exploded in fury,
" He seeks to challenge me. Me! " Ricimer bellowed. "I'll send him help all right. I'll send the Hound. I'll
send him Hiberius!"
That got Anthemius' attention. " Will you be sending him immediately?" If Ricimer
made him nervous, Hiberius scared him shitless. If Ricimer was a Bear, then Hiberius was a Wolf. Or something. Anthemius had
heard the whispered rumors among his guards.
There were other rumors concerning his birth. It was whispered that he
was half-burgundian. No one was certain. There was no surer way to die than asking questions about Hiberius past.
"He's
coming here now, there is another matter I wished to discuss with him." Ricimers growl broke into his reverie.
This
day was ruined.
It was equally tense just outside the audience chamber of the palace at Mediolanum.
Two tribunes
had been standing by the audience chamber door since morning. It was now afternoon. Miserable duty as officers of the German
Corporis Custodes, the Emperor's personal bodyguard, staffed with Suevi confederattii mercenaries. As opposed to officers
of the Praetorian Guard, staffed with Heruli mercenaries.
The original idea was to prevent one group from getting too
much power. The Heruli were relative newcomers and not as 'gentrified' as the Suevi. That meant they also dressed and bathed
after the German fashion. Twice a year whether they needed it or not. The air in the corridor stank of the fat that the Germans
used to dress their hair.
Now the two groups spent more time watching each other than looking after the Emperor. And
to make it worse, as junior military tribunes, they had to stand the watch with them to ensure the Germans remained at their
posts. And didn't start brawling in the palace corridors.
And now comes trouble, the older of the two hissed a warning
to his fellow officer. They both stood imperceptibly straighter, even the barbarian mercenaries tried to ape their stance.
Ricimer's Hound was coming.
The General strode into the Hall. Just under six feet tall, silver hair, grey eyes,
medium build. An affable smile never quite reaching eyes that seemed to know one's deepest fears. And that disturbing quickness
of mind and body. How many enemies of the state had he utterly destroyed at Ricimer's command? The man was completely without
mercy. His personal cavalry called themselves the manes (the shades) and were undoubtedly close by. Who would the axe fall
upon this time?
" Ave lads. Any excitement lately?"
The older one silently
pleaded for no excitement.
"Must get pretty dull around here. No changes. Except, ...you know, every few months.
The General pointed with his thumb at the Imperial audience chamber, then with a grin, drew it quickly under his chin. Muffled
shouting could be heard within. He stepped between the two guards and rapped on the doors with his wrist-band.
That smile
never quite reached those mad eyes. Some of the Germans believed that the General was a Varag, a were-creature... A few were
no doubt making warding gestures beneath their cloaks or behind backs.
"No need to announce me, I know the way",
The General opened the door and stepped through.
The various German guards began to mutter among themselves (in several
different dialects) and ostentatiously place hands on conspicuous sword-hilts.
"I wish he wouldn't do that."
The younger of the two officers said.
" So do I." The other replied.
"He knows that it upsets
them, the first continued, pointing with his chin at the Germans.
One of the Heruli ventured an opinion. His name was
Odoacer.
"Why do you let him talk to you like thralls? Why does he enter with his sword? "
"You
take it away from him." The older of the two tribunes responded.
" We'll watch. The younger joined in.
Anthemius watched as the figure strode through the door and removed his helm. Without breaking stride, Hiberius proceeded
to the throne.
" Ave, Dominus! " The general; saluted, wristband striking breastplate. "Prince Gundobad
sends his respectful greetings. Turning Ricimer, he saluted once more, "Ave Patrician! "
"I would like
to know something about conditions in the Burgundian Feodorate, Lucius Severus. I hear it is becoming crowded. By whom?"
the Count queried.
"It's all in my reports, Patrician. I have formed the captured Baugadae into penal cohorts.
They are currently re-building roads and bridges on our frontier and within the Burgundian kingdom...feodorate. " The
General amended, with a look at the Emperor.
Reports indeed. Arrogant whoreson, Anthemius thought. He knows that
Ricimer can't read anything but a map. He has the confidence of a carnifex, an executioner.
Exactly. The Emperor suppressed
a shiver. He hated this place. He would rather have held this audience in Rome. Or better still, Ravenna. It was time to go
back east to Ravenna.
It was much closer to Constantinopolis. There was a harbor close by. His cousin Leo could send
a boat. But that wouldn't happen unless he were to find a certain relic. An Object of Power. He knew that Ricimer searched
also. So many opportunities lost, not least the fleet and armies that his cousin had sent him to retake Africa. Who had betrayed
him? His Cousins Arian General Aspar?
Ricimer looked nonplussed, A good idea, but how do you feed them? In any case,
you were ordered to kill them."
" Your pardon, Patrician, I was ordered to remove them. Gundobad's people
are happy to feed them since the Burgundians don't know how to fix the roads and bridges." Hiberius replied. "
It is also easier to keep them penned in the mountains. Their lives are forfeit to Rome and they understand that collection
could come at any time. "
Anthemius was surprised; this man was more than a killer was. Perhaps now was the time
to assert his authority.
" An excellent project, Lucius Severus, we are pleased that you have undertaken the restoration
of our roads and bridges in these difficult times. " Ignoring Ricimer's glare the Emperor continued, I hereby appoint
you Imperial Procurator of the Prefect of Gaul with Proconsular Imperium. You have our permission to utilize those resources
you find for the security of the state and the destruction of our enemies." There, that would remind Ricimer who was
Emperor.
Hiberius was looking at him. Why? What had he just done? The General's face betrayed nothing. Sooner expect
one of these marble busts that lined the wall to come to life than coax a display of emotion from Ricimer's Hound. In one
quick move, Hiberius turned from his Patrician and knelt on one knee at the foot of the throne.
"I accept your
imperial majesty's most gracious commission and further swear that I will put it to good effect upon the enemies of Rome."
He stood and smiled before turning back to the Patrician.
Hiberius smiled! At him! A real smile, the humor was unmistakable.
He had a nice smile, for an executioner.
The look on Ricimer's face was murderous.
" I have some enemies of
Rome that you can destroy with your penal cohorts, Lucius Severus. The Governor -General of Gaul, Aegidius, has foresworn
obedience to your Emperor and myself." It was impossible to tell which offense Ricimer found most unpalatable.
"You will proceed to the Northwestern frontier of Italia, collect your forces, and enter Gaul where you will collect
the taxes Aegidius refuses to pay. You also have my permission to collect his head." The Patrician continued.
" I will augment your force with twenty cohorts of the Heruli. I need to get them out of the city anyway, they're causing
problems with the others."
Meaning his Suevi, Anthemius thought. More likely that Ricimer was using this as an
opportunity to weaken a rival. And no doubt to keep an eye on Hiberius .So now Ricimer would have more Germans rampage through
Gaul. For it was certain that the collection of taxes was license to loot or worse. The power of Rome limited to the threat
of more ruin upon a ruined land.
Heruli mercenaries, come late to the table for their turn at the roman corpse. The
emperor suppressed a shudder at the unbidden thought. The West had only farmland. The East had the gold of the Trade routes.
The West did not have the money to bribe the tribes properly with 'subsidies' like the East had done. So they had to give
them land. German mercenaries were a tool that could very likely turn in one's hand.
"I'll need more officers ",
the General responded.
I offer you my nephews, Procurator Hiberius. The Junior Military Tribunes Alla and Sindilla. They
need seasoning which they are not likely to find as commanders of our imperial guard. If Hiberius accepted them, he would
have at least gotten two people out of harms way.
Hiberius smiled again. With pleasure, Dominus!
"Draw the
rest of what you need from the garrison. Ricimer interjected.
"Done"
The Patrician continued, "
And what of your other mission regarding the holy relic?
"I have no information regarding any Christian relics,
Patrician".
Turning to salute the Emperor once more, Hiberius strode out of the audience chamber.
For the
first time since he'd arrived Anthemius felt like an Emperor. He still didn't know what he'd done. Only that it had both angered
and frightened Ricimer. Maybe he didn't have to leave after all. Maybe he could rule in the West. And what did Ricimer want
with holy relics? Probably, he hoped to sell them to his cousin, gold was in short supply here in the west. And they couldn't
pay the Germans with lands outside Italia much longer.
Lucius Severus looked like a man that got things done. Maybe he
could control the Heruli mercenaries. Was it true that he was one of those heathen Mithraic fire worshipers? Why hadn't he
been presented at court earlier than this? Was Ricimer afraid of him? Should he, the emperor, be afraid also? Anthemius sighed
inwardly, there was no way of knowing. Heretics, Manicheans. Such behavior would never be allowed in Constantinopolis. It
did make things exciting here. A fact he did not care to confess to his priest.
Rome, then. He would await developments
in Rome.
The little bastard's just signed his death warrant. He's braver than he looks. Hiberius thought. I wish
I'd gotten to know him.
Once more in the hallway outside the audience chamber, Hiberius turned to the taller of the
two officers.
"What's your name tribune? His voice echoed down the corridor."
"Decius Alla, Sir."
The wide-eyed soldier responded.
"And yours?" The General turned to the other.
"Flaccus Sindilla,
Sir ". Came the cautious response.
The Heruli captain, Odoacer, glowered at the General as the latter hefted the
crested helm to his head ...and threw it squarely in the face of the mercenary.
Without pause, Hiberius kicked the
stunned German in the groin whilst relieving him of his sword. Odoacer righted himself to find his own sword at his throat.
The stink of his loosened bowels filled that small part of the corridor; the remaining Germans nudged each other and laughed
behind their beards or looked embarrassed. It depended upon whether they were Suevi or Heruli.
The two tribunes watched
apprehensively. They knew that Ricimer tolerated, even encouraged this sort of display as a rude attempt at discipline. Knowledge
did not make the reality any easier to bear. They wondered when Hiberius would go too far.
Hiberius smiled unpleasantly
at the German captain, elevating his chin on sword's point. "From this day on, every breath you draw is my gift to you.
You will show respect. Eyes down, Odoacer nodded and backed away. Turning back to the tribunes, the General announced:
"Congratulations. The two of you have just been attached to my staff. You are now promoted to Senior Military Tribunes.
Collect your gear, round up this rabble and report to the campus martialus. Hiberius retrieved his helm.
Join the real
army?
Leave a nice comfortable barracks to go haring off after barbarians?
Under the command of a known madman
and killer?
The two tribunes looked at each other.
They couldn't leave soon enough.
" How many do we
take, Sir?" Asked Alla.
"Rabble, er, Heruli, Sir?' Sindila amended.
"Ricimer has given us twenty
cohorts. You may take anything but that scrubbed pig". He pointed with his chin at the dazed mercenary captain withdrawing
down the corridor. With a careless toss he sent the Germans sword clattering after him.
" They will need provisions.
You no doubt know where such things can be found.
Check with Bucephalus, The Praefectus Fabrum. Tell him Galbo sent
you. Requisition what you need and assemble everything on the campus. We will depart immediately, Hiberius said.
Before
Ricimer has a chance to chance his mind, Hiberius thought.
'Yes Sir! , Wristbands clashing on breastplates, the
two responded in unison.
For five years they had passed on information to Hiberius. At risk of their lives they passed
the occasional misinformation to Ricimer. And now their actual patron summoned them into the heart of the maelstrom along
the frontiers. Away from the viper's nest the court had become.
Now, finally, they would be real soldiers. Hiberius
had kept his promise. They might be no safer, but now they would fight for Rome rather than Ricimer. It seemed that until
this moment all of their lives had been spent in waiting. They walked away from the audience chamber without a backward glance.
Outside, under a glowering sky, two centuries of heavy Cavalry waited in silence. Goths, Sarmatians, Hunni, ex-gladiators,
(possibly) ex-brigands and younger sons of noble or not-so-noble families watched the palace doorway with the intensity of
a wolf pack. They did not fraternize with the Germans, whom they held beneath contempt. The Germans in turn were more than
a little afraid of Hiberius's "manes". The sight of their General roused them. Men and horse began to stir.
Hiberius
spoke to his Optio, senior adjutant.
"Rufio, detach enough decuries for your protection and return to the Alpine
camp. Tell Orestes to take the twenty-ninth and thirtieth Legios and proceed south to Vienne on the Rhone with all haste.
I will meet him there with the Heruli. Leave all remaining baguadae recruits behind under the Junior Legate with one cohort
to continue with their training".
" I am not anxious to leave you with those stinking Germans and too few of
us"
"There have always been too few of us, the odiferous Germans will be too afraid of Ricimer this close
to Mediolanum for any tricks and by the time we get to the Rhone I will expect you there waiting for us. Do me a favor and
don't cut it too fine will you?"
Rufio laughed and asked, "What of Ricimer?"
"He suspects, but
he doesn't know...yet. In any case, I've left his would-be rival Odoacer here to keep him company. That should also make the
Heruli with us a bit easier to manage. When you get to the camp, not before, I want you to send a message to Ecdysius by our
own post riders. We want no one else reading our mail".
"What do you want it to say?"
" I want
Ecdysius to meet us at Vienne, on the Rhone, in two weeks time"
"Yes, Sir."
"And Rufio"
"Yes Sir?"
"Hurry"
Hiberius regarded the activity within the encompassing brick walls of
the courtyard disgustedly. The rain was increasing to a steady drizzle that was surely turning the earth to mud. Horsemen
mounted while keeping one eye on the Germans for the quick moves that would precede treachery. For more than fifteen years
it had been like this. It was time, and past time to move.
Hiberius smiled and hoped Ricimer had enjoyed his fucking
letter.
In the cellars and storerooms beneath Mediolanum, two recently promoted Senior Military Tribunes earnestly
prosecuted their assigned task.
" There arn't enuf stors to feed 10,000 fukin' Germans all the way to Gaul!"
The Praefectus Fabrum or Quartermaster, was tall and gaunt. He was blind in one eye, the scar running from left temple to
chin. His lips had healed unevenly, the remaining pale blue eye glared at both of them.
"They eat too much and
they march too slow!" He gestured with a peculiar appliance, it looked like a pilus, or javelin head, bound to the stump
of his right forearm.
Alla had never seen this one before, not in five years. The stooped shoulders of the disfigured
giant bespoke years down here in the labyrinthine passages under the palace. Even the Germans must keep wide of him.
But
Lucius Severus knew he was here. Bucephalus, "beautiful face", Hiberius's little joke.
And Sindilla, the mad
fucker, was arguing with him. " Galbo sent us here". Sindila replied, "He said to check with you ".
"Galbo
always asked for four times what e needed to get what e wanted. But Galbo arn't here, you lyin' little catamite. The apparition
responded, he sounded like a Briton, " If you need money to pay your debts then keep company with some noble senator
or two insted' o' sellin' my storz'."
His stores, Alla fought to keep control, but Sindilla exploded first. The
shorter tribune drew his gladius.
" How do we know you haven't sold them yourself, and spent the money on blind
whores! You stupid, ugly gint!"
Oh, that's handling him, Sindilla!
That was it, they were both going to disappear
down here in this squalid little storeroom. His hand reached for his own gladius. Damned if he was going to let Sindilla face
this monster himself, he'd promised his family to look out for him. They wouldn't even manage to get decently killed in Gaul.
The remaining eye ceased to glare, lips peeled back in a parody of a smile.
"Your pardon, Sirs. Who sent you?
"
" Hiberius sent us ", Alla responded before Sindila could continue. "And he says Galbo sent us.
Do you want to ask him?"
"Hiberius said to say that Galbo sent you, only Galbo arn't here" The disfigured
quartermaster's smile began to fade, as he mulled over this possibility. To be replaced by a curious gleam in the remaining
eye.
"He's waited too long", he said with a grim chuckle, " There's barely enough to supply the Barracks."
Sindila cooled down enough to comprehend the disjointed nature of the conversation." There will be 10,000 fewer in
the barracks." The shorter Tribune answered helpfully.
The Praefectus Fabrum looked sad; "we'll still come
up short, Sir. There will be blood spilled if our allies go hungry " He looked puzzled. Actually with that face, it was
hard to tell how he looked. " Sirs, is it time?" Marvelous, the man was as mad as he looked.
"It is time
for a punitive expedition to the west, Sindila responded.
The twisted smile was back. The man had come to some sort
of decision.
Right, Sirs. A punitive expedition. Well, they'll riot here, but if a little German blood gets spilled,
they won't eat as much will they? The quartermaster looked bleak, "You going, Sirs?
" Yes, we are going."
Alla responded patiently.
"Don't come back, Sirs." He advised them in fatalistic tones, "It's going to
get very ugly here in the near term."
"Why don't you come with us, man?" Sindila exploded again. Fine,
he was ready to kill him only a moment ago. Thought Alla.
The Quartermaster hefted his ruined arm, "Can't lift
a shield. I'll get you outfitted, then I'll stay behind and help them with their supply problem. ", He struck the table
with his crude prosthetic to make the point and finished grimly, "It'll take awhile. Arsholes can't count anyway. Tell
Lucius Severus...tell him 'the fair one' remembers. The single eye entreated their understanding. Tell him it's time, Sirs".
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