Chapter 13 -III-
“Take this also!” Tiberius ordered the eunuch, whose name eluded him, pointing to a stack of books on the chamber’s one remaining table. The servant silently complied with the last command, before bowing and quietly sliding out of the room.
Content, having emptied his sleeping quarters, the Caesar took a final look at the bare walls and empty floors. Well, that’s about it… Suddenly, a crushing feeling of embarrassment and helplessness came over him, as his mind switched from the task at hand over to yet undone errands. Oh shit! Boniface sets out today! Whirling, he raced out of the chamber, and dashed towards the prefectural palace’s great hall, where Irene should have been sending the embassies off.
Damn, damn, damn! He was upset at himself for having forgotten; but, nevertheless, he had had a far too busy morning. In any case, this was no way for a man to spend his wedding day, he thought, while racing down the foyers, past the few remaining, rushing servants. But then again, these aren’t really relaxed times anymore.
As of late, rather unconsciously, he had begun to recognize more and more of the very real dangers that threatened their situation. Yes, his head had been in the clouds before, but ever since Anna had agreed to be his, and his alone, God had granted him the necessary peace of mind to focus on state affairs, like Theodosius would have liked him to. Or so he believed.
“Ave, Caesar!” saluted the two excubitores posted at the carved doorway, upon his arrival. Almost ignoring the salute, he signaled them hurriedly to open the gates and allow him into the room.
“…anything else that you might want to take with you?” he heard Irene asking, in Greek.
Upon coming into the almost vacant great hall, he discerned Pope Boniface standing serenely before the Empress in full regalia, his calm face bearing witness to the steadfastness of his faith, and surrounded on both sides by a train of priests and deacons. “No Augusta,” he replied, clutching at the golden crucifix that hung upon his chest. “All that we might ever need is already with us.”
“Apologies for the delay, Father,” Tiberius hastily said, approaching the small gathering.
“Ah, young Caesar! How noble of you to see us off!” the Pope answered, genuinely happy to see him, and bowing his head respectfully.
“Could not allow it to be any other way,” he added, grasping the Patriarch’s right wrist and shaking it firmly. Boniface and those of his retinue were about to face a demon incarnate; it was only decent enough of him to be present, and pray zealously for the Bishop of Rome’s ultimate success. He was glad to have made it.
“Well then Father, time is short, and the roads are treacherous,” Irene continued, swiftly. “Let us share a final prayer for your safety, and to ask the Lord to look kindly upon our endeavors.”
And following the final Amen, the Pope departed. Tiberius almost felt sorrow for the older man, having nothing but his trust on divine protection to shield him from the claws of the brutish Avars. It was just unfortunate that the Romans could no longer spare a respectable guard for such a noble delegation, but Boniface seemed to be unperturbed; he was sure of his ultimate success, and of the Hand of Providence. Yet, he wondered, could God really replicate the luck that Pope Leo had experienced when visiting on that other scourge of His, Attila? What was to keep the Khagan from just skinning the helpless priest, seizing the gold presented, and continuing to pillage his way south?
Tiberie, heathen thoughts are too be shunned! Do not doubt the Lord!
“…Do not doubt the Lord…” he mumbled to himself.
“Nice of you to finally stop by,” his sister-in-law cut in.
He, startled by her voice, had not realized she had left his side, and was now standing by one of the gaping windows overlooking the old Forum, her back turned on him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here earlier…”
“I was not complaining.” She paused, looked down at her feet while clearing her throat, and then continued. “I do hope, however, you were not late because of the help.”
“I…” he began, before his discomfiture overtook him. He thought he had been quite discreet the entire time about his relationship with Anna, that everything would become known on his own terms, and when he chose to disclose it. But, I don’t think she knows about the rest…“…I am done with that, Irene. I know that there are far more pressing matters at hand.”
Her soft chuckle unnerved him, slightly. “Listen to yourself…” she said, turning around. “You are beginning to sound like your brother; or worse, your father.”
Theodosius’ wife, burdened with wars and invasion, still looked as gorgeous as ever. Clad in a deep red dress adorned with golden embroidery, and with her dark brown soft curls falling charmingly over her shoulders, she seemed unaffected by the stress of the disasters befalling the Romans. Her pale face, betrayed no telling wrinkles, and her bright greenish-hazel eyes were neither sunken in, nor surrounded by dark circles; on the contrary, her visage remained as fresh as ever, as if made of Parian marble. The Empress’ soft glow was a sharp contrast to the near empty room, whose furniture and ornaments had been quietly packed up and sent south.
“It is nigh time I acted the part of a Caesar,” he managed to say, his chest inflating somewhat on mention of his title.
An actual laugh escaped her this time. “I see, little brother. I think then, that your place is with Anastasia and Maurice. As the oldest, it is your duty to keep them safe.”
Little brother. He was annoyed at being tasked with childcare. “They are already safe, behind the walls of Naples and with Theodelinda. I should stay here with you, and look after the defenses of this city.”
She gave him a blank stare for a few seconds, before shaking her head a little. “I appreciate the thought and the offer, Tiberie. But you need to look after the family in case things do not go as planned here, and I can’t make it south on time...”
“Irene, I can…”
“If it makes it better, you can take the girl.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but thought the better of it. With a deep sigh, he attempted to change the subject. “Have we any word of Procopius?”
“Not yet,” she replied, crossing her arms across her chest, and beginning to walk towards him. “He should be reaching Domentziolus’ camp any day now.”
“Mhhhh,” he grunted. “Do you really think he’ll accept?” It was a genuine question.
She remained silent for a few moments. “There aren’t any certainties anymore, Tiberie,” she finally answered, listlessly, her eyes wandering to the mosaics on the floor, depicting an old, pagan satyr. “It’s hard to say…”
While her eyes were fixed on the ground, he thought he sensed her concealed vulnerability. His sister-in-law might have looked near unassailable, as strong a woman as his own mother, but the frail tone in her voice told him that she might soon be cracking. In spite of the favorable news from the East, she was being forced to send her own son away, the Franks hung over Italy threateningly like Damocles’’ sword, and a flood of barbarians from Scythia was rolling upon them like a tidal wave. Then, why wouldn’t I stay?
Attempting to comfort her, he approached her, and put his right arm over her shoulders. “I know…” he tried for a few moments to find the right words to reassure her. “…we can still have faith…like the Pope.”
She did not get to answer, as the door reverberated with a nervous pounding for a few short seconds, before a gaunt looking excubitor opened it, and marched gasping into the room, half saluting them both in Latin.
“Augusta, Caesar… you must leave the city at once! There…there are reports of Lombard raiding parties to the northwest!”
Straightening her back, and shedding his arm, the Empress lifted her gaze and strode coolly past the soldier, as she spoke, regaining her briefly lost composure. “The Caesar will leave for Naples within the hour, as planned. Make sure him and those in his entourage are escorted safely to their destination.”
“Yes, Empress!”
“Irene, wait!”
But his meager rebuff was snubbed; she strode back into the outer passage, without looking back, and left him alone with the shaken guard. Clenching a fist, he stood still, in anger. Goddammit!
“Caesar, I have my orders…”
“Yes, I heard her too!” he snapped back, frustrated. Whatever! If she wants to stay, she can do so…I don’t know why she tries to be such a bitch. He stormed out of the room, but his sister-in-law was nowhere to be seen. Incensed, and with his mind made up, he turned in the direction of the service area; still, closely behind him, trotted the guard. I have to show them…I’ll prove them all wrong!
“What’s your name soldier?” he asked the man, dryly.
“Maximus, Caesar. Maximus Albinus,” he replied, breathing heavily.
“Maxime, I will give you a pound of gold, if you get my wife to Naples, and gather a band of two hundred men as my personal escort, separate from the train. I will be taking a different route south,” Tiberius declared, in the firmest tone he could manage.
The man stopped on his tracks, but resumed his stroll almost immediately, as Tiberius did not halt. “Caesar, forgive me…y…your…wife?”
This time he stopped, and glanced back at the excubitor, cutting his eyes at him. “Yes, Maxime. My wife. You will ensure that she arrives safely to the city, and you will find me the men that I demand!”
Maximus’ stare dropped with docility to the ground. “Domine…there aren’t any men to spare…” he informed him, hesitantly. “Those that can fight, are being drafted to man the walls here…”
What…? “What about a hundred?”
“Caesar, the detachment tasked with your protection…consists only of twenty-five men…there were no others that could be spared…”
The Devil in hell, he thought. How can I prove them, then…that I’m not a boy any longer? Shaking his head in disappointment, and with his bright idea of valiantly meeting the Lombard raiders in the field in shambles, he resumed his rapid walk, and within minutes, was standing before the service quarters, whence a few maids, with disheveled hairs and wailing at the menacing news, still ventured from.
“You will wait here,” Tiberius ordered, pointing a finger downward. Without waiting for a reply, he stepped into the kitchens, and rushed for Anna’s “alcove.” Upon finding it, he tapped on the thin door three times, in quick succession. “It’s me.”
The girl opened it carefully, after recognizing him, let him in the tiny room, and nervously shut it behind him. It did not take Tiberius long to see that she was ready to leave, her few belongings packed in a small wooden chest by the doorway.
“Did anyone know?” she asked, anxiously.
”No, no one did. But don’t worry; when we get to Naples I will announce it publicly. I’m getting tired of hiding like thief!”
“I just… I was afraid that they would find out too soon. Or that the priest would speak, and I just didn’t want the Empress to give us…”
“Don’t you worry about her!” he interjected. “She’s staying here…and by the time she makes it south, she will face a fait-accompli. It’s done.”
Within seconds, a thin smile drew across his young bride’s face, while her brown eyes widened. “Come here, my love!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms gleefully around him.
Confidently, he took her in a tight embrace, and having kissed her forehead affectionately, he whispered in her ear, “let’s leave then. My wife.”
