Attila:The Scourge of God

German slut with you. You are no longer my son.’

With his ties to home and family irrevocably sundered, Titus felt a huge loss and sadness. But in a curious way he also felt free. He knew that, like Julius Caesar five hundred years before, he had reached a crossroads in his life, a Rubicon. In a flash of insight, he saw what he must do. First, he would send Clothilde back to her own people, pending arrangements for his baptism and their marriage. (There might be tribal barriers to overcome, but no religious ones; unlike most of her fellow Germans, who were Arians, Clothilde had been raised a Catholic.) Then he would try, somehow, to join Aetius, whose policy of integrating the German tribes into the structure of the empire seemed to offer the best, perhaps the only, way forward for Rome. Having come to a decision, Titus felt relief tinged with excitement sweep over him. The die was cast.

¹ Lake Constance

² 12 October

³ Milan.

TWO

Hail Valentinian, Augustus of the West

The Patrician Helion, presenting the child Valentinian to the Roman Senate, 425

Flavius Placidius Valentinianus, Emperor of the West Romans — the third of his name to wear the purple — son of the Empress Mother Galla Placidia, Most Noble One, Consul, Defender of the Nicene Doctrine, et cetera, et cetera, was bored. Earlier, he’d given his tutor the slip (anything to avoid another history lesson about the Carthaginian Wars) and hidden in the palace gardens where, at the edge of the miniature lake, he’d caught six fine bullfrogs. It had been tremendous fun blowing them up with a straw until they burst. They swelled up like bladders and just before they popped, their eyes, staring into his, had blinked. That gave him a wonderful feeling of power. He looked forward to the day when he was old enough to take over ruling the empire from his mother. Then he would have power over Romans, not just frogs. He could kill anyone he wanted to, just for fun if he chose. Would his victims blink before they died? The thought gave him a delicious thrill.

He could hear in the distance, his tutor, a Greek freedman, calling him. Valentinian chuckled. The man sounded not just anxious but terrified. As well he might: if his royal charge was found to be missing, he could expect a severe whipping plus loss of manumission. The frog episode had left Valentinian feeling both excited and restless. No good looking for cats to bait; the strays that prowled the palace grounds had long since learnt to hide on sighting him. Then a delighted smile broke over the boy’s face as a faraway sound came to his ears, the clucking of chickens from the imperial hen-coop. Uncle Honorius, the late Emperor, had doted on the fowls; hand-feeding them had been his favourite occupation. Though they were now surplus to requirements, no one had found a pretext to remove them. Eyes shining with anticipation, the Emperor headed for the chicken-run.

‘I want you to take a message to Galla Placidia,’ Aetius told Titus. They were in the villa outside Ravenna that the general had commandeered for his headquarters. (Since the incident with the catafractarius, Aetius had taken Titus more and more into his confidence.) ‘Tell her my terms are these: that my Huns be paid off in gold; that I dismiss them on condition that they be ceded Pannonia; and’ — Aetius grinned wolfishly — ‘that I be made Count.’

‘You can’t mean it, sir!’ exclaimed Titus, shocked by the cool effrontery of the general’s demands. ‘We’re hardly in a position to bargain, surely? The battle with Aspar was a stalemate. And with Ioannes betrayed and executed three days before we arrived, it seems to have been, well, a bit of a futile gesture, if you ask me. Pannonia — you’re actually proposing to give it away? To use a Roman province as a bargaining chip?’

‘My dear Titus,’ sighed Aetius, in the tones of a patient school-master explaining a point to a slow-witted pupil, ‘you’re failing to grasp the bigger picture. In fact, we’re in an excellent position to put pressure on our beloved Empress. Aspar can’t wait around indefinitely; he’s needed back in the East. And with the Franks and Burgundians flexing their muscles in Gaul, Placidia daren’t withdraw troops to counter any moves I might make. Also, she’s desperate to see the last of my Huns. As to Pannonia, it’s finished anyway; devastated during the Gothic Wars and never really recovered since. If we let the Huns have it, at least it becomes a useful barrier against further German encroachment. And Ioannes? He was never destined to be more than a puppet, with me pulling the strings. With him gone, at least I can play an open game.’

‘Sir, may I ask you a question?’

‘You may, young Titus, you may.’

‘There’s something that’s been bothering me for some time, sir.’ Titus paused uncomfortably, then pressed on. ‘Why is it, sir, that you’re so against Placidia taking power in the name of her son? After all, Valentinian is the legitimate heir. To some, your stance might seem like treason.’

‘Careful, Titus,’ rapped Aetius. ‘“Treason” is a dangerous word to use around generals. I’ll let it pass, as you obviously speak from ignorance. The position is this. Placidia in full control would be a disaster for the West. She’s achieved a status vastly exceeding her actual ability, through a series of colourful adventures: prisoner of the Goths after the sack of Rome; married to Athaulf, Alaric’s brother-in-law; dragged in chains by Athaulf’s assassin; sold back to the Romans; married General Constantius, who went on to become co-emperor. . She’s vain, stubborn, stupid, and ambitious. Unfortunately, she’s also beautiful and alluring, which enables her to attract and use powerful men. As for her ensuring that Valentinian gets the proper training to fit him for the purple-’ Breaking off, Aetius smiled wryly and shook his head. ‘She’s hopelessly indulgent, gives in to his every whim and tantrum. Result: a spoilt brat eventually ruling the West. We might end up with another Nero or Commodus. That’s why, for the sake of Rome, their power must be curbed. Satisfied?’

‘Of course, sir,’ said Titus contritely. ‘I should have realized. .’

‘Yes, you should, shouldn’t you?’ replied Aetius tartly. ‘Anything else troubling you?’

‘Naturally, sir, I’m honoured you’ve asked me to approach the Empress on your behalf. But why send me? Surely a visit from yourself in person would carry much more weight.’

‘You should study the politics of animals, Titus. Ever watched how street cats behave? The lower-ranking ones approach the head tom, never the other way round. By sending you, I’m not conceding dominant status to Placidia.’ Aetius shrugged, then his face broke into a disarming grin. ‘I know — it all sounds utterly childish. Small boys scoring points. Important, though.’

They rehearsed the items Titus was to present to Placidia, then the general waved in dismissal. ‘Right, off you go. I’ll want a full report when you get back.’

Wearing the better of his two uniforms (red long-sleeved tunic, short cloak, broad military belt, and pilleus pannonicus, the round undress pillbox cap worn by soldiers of all ranks and by clerks attached to the army), Titus approached the imperial palace. The huge rectangular building with its guard- turrets and massive outer walls, each pierced by an arched gateway, was more like a fortress than a royal residence. At the west gate, he was challenged by two guards of the household troops. With their long spears, enormous round shields, and ridge helmets whose central crests had been extended into huge, flaring cockscombs, they seemed like throwbacks to the time of Horatius Cocles and his defence of the Tiber Bridge. Titus produced a scroll made out by Aetius’ secretary in the general’s name, requesting that the bearer be granted audience with the Empress.

‘You’ll need to see the Master of Petitions,’ said one of the soldiers, after scrutinizing the document. ‘Straight through the gardens, then you’ll come to a passage between the four main blocks. You want the second block on your left. Ask at the chamberlain’s office. Can’t miss it.’

But miss it Titus did. Seduced by the beauty of the gardens, with their fountains, pergolas, flower-beds, and statuary, he decided to treat himself to a brief tour of exploration before attending to his mission. Some time later,