410 AD
“Step forward, Flavius. Only schemers lurk in shadows.”
“Do I have the look of a schemer?”
“Truthfully...No. You have a look of hesitance. Indecision. A child charged with some disagreeable chore. Come. Join me. Tell me what task keeps you from your bed.”
“I could ask you the same. Sitting here, in the Julia, staring at shadows on the walls.”
“The Senate House is as fitting a place as any for a Senator of Rome.”
“It isn’t safe for a man in your position to venture out into the streets at night.”
“I’d wager the citizens attacked in the Forum two days past would argue it’s not much safer during the day. Riotous heathens! Dissidents and mobs love a good siege almost as much as they love public executions of tyrannical despots.”
“All the more reason you should’ve stayed in your domus.”
“Have you come to rescue me from my solitude? Protect me from plebs and slaves grown as mongrel as the Visigoth wolves camped outside our city gates?”
“Claudius sent me to find you.“
“Someone I used to trust to help me see reason?”
“Someone you used to trust to ignite common sense.”
“Claudius doesn’t need my permission to open the gates. His slaves have arms. They have ears. By his commands they’ll obey.”
“Claudius may control the crowds, his slaves, but it’s you who’s the favor of the soldiers that defend Aurelian’s walls. There’s not a patrician in the city that would endorse a slaughter to rally a mob against your forces. Not even Claudius.”
“His actions speak otherwise. He’s been quite public in his denouncement of my lack of judgment, my refusals to seek terms of surrender.”
“Personal offenses aside, the man’s motives are sound. Some might even call them wise. He only wants what’s best for Rome.”
“What Claudius wants for Rome and what Claudius wants for himself are entirely two different things. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than for historians to record me as the man who delivered the blow that felled this fine city. Why? Because it absolves him, Emperor Honorius, the armies that abandoned us. Squarely places the enslavement of Roman children, the rape of Roman women, the massacre of Roman men, on my shoulders.”
“We are starving! Dying! By the hundreds each day.”
“This is a siege not a festival! Deprivation is meant to be inhospitable. Intolerable. Expected to exact certain tolls.”
“And what is the price of these tolls? Our treasury is bankrupt. Our granaries are empty. The temples filled with grieving mothers, fathers. Meat mongers sell the flesh of dead gladiators by the pound. The air that clings to this misery ripe with the stench of bodies left to rot in the streets. Have we not suffered enough? Paid enough? If these hardships be the price of Roman pride than by the Christians and by the Pagans we shall pay no more!”
“I see your lips move, but hear Claudius’s voice when the words come out.”
“Order your troops to lay down their arms and open the city gates. Put an end to this hellish existence.”
“Suppose I relented. My soldiers abandon their duties. The gates are opened. Alaric’s army pours in. What happens then? Alaric’s men have waited nearly two years. They’ve been assured a banquet. What tolls do you think ravenous men exact when the cow they’ve been promised is a bird that’s been picked clean? Tell me, if such a humiliating defeat rested on your shoulders would you be so eager to hasten such brutality, watch a thousand years of power and tradition crumble into cinder and dust?”
“Rome’s foundation is strong. She will rise from the rubble, mightier than before. More glorious than She’s ever been!”
“When this new, mightier Rome is built have the engineers construct banners. Drape them high atop the buildings. Announce to every barbarian tribe with a grievance against the Empire Rome is weak. Easily plundered. Throw open those gates and they’ll be no end to foreign invasions. Conquerors. The Light In The West will be extinguished, doused into the wisp of a memory.”
“You sound like an oracle, confident in your bleak prophesies while condemning us to death. If by sword or by starvation we are all marked men I would rather die with a blade in my hand, and the sun on my face, than lie down in the darkness of this despair as a martyr to the splendors of Rome’s past!”
“Bravo, Flavius! Well done! You’ve a gift for passionate speech. Your delivery is superb! You should’ve been an orator. Better still, a politician. Were I less obstinate in my opinions you would’ve almost had me convinced.”
“I’m not here for an evaluation of my persuasive skills. This isn’t about asking your permission. I’m offering you a chance to join the opposition formed against you. Order the gates opened or-”
“Are you threatening me? Am I to take your meaning as an ultimatum?”
“The matter’s been decided.”
“It has? By whom?”
“Claudius hasn’t the bread, or gold, to bribe your soldiers but he’s more than enough influence to purchase your life.”
“And to think, here I was, staring at shadows on the Julia’s walls, weighing the cost of my decisions against the losses Rome will suffer if Alaric achieves victory. Perhaps I should’ve been calculating the treasonous nature of the barbarians I call countrymen who dwell inside the city gates. Sculptor to messenger, your father would’ve been pleased. Very well, you’ve delivered your message. Run back to that imbecile and deliver one for me. Tell Claudius to gather this so called opposition and meet me in front of the Salarian Gate. If he can take it, he can have it.”
“Is this your final answer? Romans butchering Romans? A bloodbath caused by one man’s allegiance to his own stubbornness.”
“Treasonous Romans! Call them what they are, exactly what you are!”
“What stubborn men call treason desperate men call seizing an opportunity to live.”
“Desperate men do foolish things. Things they regret when faced with consequences. Now, I’ve given you my answer. Hurry back. Run along. I’m bored with your sniveling, and Claudius’s pathetic attempts at manipulating. He picked a poor choice to bring me an ultimatum. I’d have more to fear from an infected toe!”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Am I? I’m doubtful.”
“Claudius made his demand. You’ve made your choice. Two men are at an impasse, each the other’s obstacle, one must be removed.”
“You’re no more an assassin than I am a thespian. Your heart is large, your stomach weak. The very idea you’d harm me is absurd. Do you intend to chisel me to death? Bash clay into my skull? A dagger would be more appropriate. Have you brought one? Is it hidden in the folds of your robes? Shall I turn around, present you my back? No, of course not. You can’t even look me in the eyes as you threaten my life, yet you’re so prepared to...What was it? Die-”
“Die with a blade in my hand.”
“Which will happen sooner than starvation if you align yourself with Claudius.”
“The gates or your head. That was my task. I’ve given Claudius my word. My word is my bond.”
“Is your word stronger than our bond? You’d murder the man that raised you?”
“Would you rather it were a stranger? A man with a small heart and a strong stomach who’ll grin as he hacks you into pieces and laugh as he parades your head through the streets on a pole? My dagger is sharp. My hands are steady. I’ll deliver a quick death.”
“I’d rather it weren’t my grandson.”
“Then pretend you don’t know me, and I you.”
“Get out! Go, while I’m still fond of you. Go, while I’m able to dismiss your treason as confusion. Go, because it will take more than bold statements to kill me. It’ll take hatred and lack of conscience. Neither of which you possess.”
“It’s a funny thing-”
“I see nothing comical in betrayal.”
“I thought I came to convince you.”
“Take your hands off me!”
“Romans die standing.”
“I want you to remember that!”
“Look away. Close your eyes.”
“Remember it when you’re begging barbarian butchers from your knees!”
“But perhaps...perhaps all I needed was to convince myself. Embrace the bitter hatred a year and a half of suffering breeds within a man’s soul.”
“Flavius!“
“Maybe that’s the reason I hesitated...”
“Flav-“
“Watched you as you stared at shadows dance across the Julia’s walls.”