The Last Legion

  The others entered as well and began to lay out their blankets. Demetrius had noticed a field of stubble downhill of the mansio, with heaps of straw here and there, so he went to collect some to make up their beds for the night. The surface layers were grey and mouldy, but the straw underneath was still blond, and dry for so late in the season; it would certainly keep them warm. A hedge of maple and brambles lined the side of the field, beyond which the low brush extended almost all the way to the sandy coast. To his left he could see the mouth of the Metaurus, the river they’d been following over the last few days. Behind them was the forest, stretching out on the north and west. Vatrenus inspected it on horseback to rule out any hidden danger, and noticed large piles of oak and pine logs, secured with twine to stakes driven into the ground, at a short distance from the boundary with the cultivated field. There must be loggers in the area, who traded timber with the coastal populations. In the distance was the sea, rippled by Boreas’s breath, but not rough, and the weather conditions were mild enough so that the ship would be able to draw ashore without major problems.

  Ambrosinus wanted to show his gratitude towards the men who had risked their lives for them, so when the time came, he prepared a special dinner for all, flavouring it with the herbs and roots he’d found along the way. He’d even managed to scrape together some fruit: the last few wild apples hanging from a tree in what must once have been the exchange post’s orchard. He lit a fire in the old fireplace and although huge splits in the ceiling let them see the stars, the crackling of the flames and the light of the hearth spread a sense of cheer and intimacy that allayed their sadness over their imminent separation.

  No one mentioned the fact that Romulus would be gone the next day – that they would perhaps never see him again, that the little emperor would fulfil an unknown destiny on the other side of the world, in an immense metropolis, amidst the intrigues of a corrupt, murderous court – but it was clear that they were thinking of nothing else, from the sidelong glances they cast towards the boy, from the half-hearted phrases that every so often escaped them, from the rough, seemingly thoughtless caresses they gave him as they passed.

  Aurelius chose to take the first guard shift, and went to sit near the troughs, staring out at the sea which had become leaden. Livia approached him from behind.

  ‘Poor boy,’ she said. ‘All this time he’s been trying to form a bond with us, especially with you and me, and we’ve never let him.’

  ‘It would just have been worse,’ said Aurelius without turning.

  A flock of cranes migrating in the night shrieking like banished souls.

  ‘They’ll reach the Bosporus before he will,’ said Livia.

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘The ship should be here before dawn. They’ll take the boy and give us our reward. It’s a lot of money: you and your men will be able to start a new life, buy land, servants, livestock . . . you deserve it.’

  Aurelius didn’t answer.

  ‘What are you thinking of ?’ asked Livia.

  ‘The ship might not arrive on time. It might even be a few days late.’

  ‘Is that worry or hope in your voice?’

  Aurelius seemed to be listening to the syncopated call of the cranes which was fading into the distance. He sighed. ‘It’s the first time in my life that I’ve had something like a family, and tomorrow it will be all over. Romulus will go towards his destiny and you . . .’

  ‘And so will I,’ Livia said resolutely. ‘These are hard times. We’re forced to watch this world of ours die, and we’re powerless to do anything to stop it. Each one of us needs a purpose, a goal, a reason good enough to want to survive all this ruin.’

  ‘Do you really want to return to that lagoon? Wouldn’t you like . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘To come with us . . . with me.’

  ‘But where? I told you, a new hope is being born in that lagoon. Venetia is my homeland, strange as that may seem to you. It may look like just a group of shacks built by refugees fleeing the destruction of their cities, but it’s much, much more than that.’

  Aurelius flinched imperceptibly at those words and Livia continued: ‘I’m certain that it will soon become a true city. That’s why I need the money I’ll be given tomorrow: to reinforce our defences, to fit out our first ships, to build new houses for new immigrants. You should unite with us, you and your comrades. We need men like you. Our cities have been razed to the ground, but their spirit lives on in Venetia; cities like Altinum, Concordia, Aquileia! Your city, Aurelius! Aquileia.’

  ‘Why do you continue to torment me so?’ snapped Aurelius. ‘Can’t you just leave me in peace?’

  Livia knelt before him, her eyes glistening. ‘Because maybe I can give you back that past that has been wiped from your mind. I knew it the first time I saw you. I knew it from the way you looked at this, even if you continue to deny it.’ She raised the medal that hung at her neck and placed it squarely in front of him, like some sacred relic that would heal him from a mysterious disease. Her eyes were bright with passion and with tears. Aurelius felt suddenly engulfed by powerful emotion, by the desire he had futilely suffocated for so long. He felt her lips drawing closer, her breath mixing with his in an ardent, unexpected kiss, long dreamed of yet never hoped for. He embraced her and kissed her as he never had any woman in his whole life, with infinite sweetness, with all the energy that welled up from his heart. She wrapped her arms around his neck without moving her lips from his, every part of her trembling body pressing against him, her full breasts, her smooth stomach, her long nervous legs. He lay her on the ground on his cape, and took her, like that, on the dry grass, the odour of the earth mixing with the scent of her hair. And he remained inside her afterwards, to prolong the intimacy that filled his heart and that he wished would never end. He wrapped her up in his cloak and held her tight, delighting in the warmth of her body and the fragrance of her skin.

  Then Livia left him with a kiss. ‘Aurelius,’ she said, ‘I wish there could be a future between us, but I’m sure that the ship will be here soon. When the sun rises everything will seem different: difficult, problematical, the way it’s always been. You’ll follow your comrades, fleeing from the ghosts of your lost memories, and I’ll return to my lagoon. We’ll always have the memory of these days, of the love we’ve stolen on our last night together, the memory of this incredible adventure, of this kind and unfortunate boy that we’ve loved without ever having the courage to tell him. Perhaps one day you’ll decide to come looking for me, and I’ll welcome you, if it’s not too late. Or perhaps I’ll never see you again because the vicissitudes of life will have kept us apart. Farewell, Aurelius, may your gods protect you.’

  Livia walked away towards the old tumbledown mansio. Aurelius was left alone under the black sky, listening to the voice of the wind, and to the cranes fending their way through the darkness.

  21

  THE HOOTING OF AN OWL echoed repeatedly from the willow grove near the river, then a light moved back and forth over the bridge which crossed the torrent. Livia, inside the mansio, seemed asleep, reclining near a breach in the wall. The noise startled her into consciousness; she got to her feet and slipped silently through the crevice. Aurelius, who had finished his stint on guard duty, was sleeping wrapped in his blanket on the opposite side of the room. Demetrius was outside now, sitting on the ground against his shield, and Livia reasoned that he’d be watching the coastline in the hopes of sighting the ship. She circled the southern corner of the building and reached the pen at the back where the horses were tied. She kept her hand over her horse’s muzzle as she sneaked off with him, so he wouldn’t give her away. Juba didn’t even seem to notice her, or perhaps her odour was so familiar that he wasn’t distracted from his rest.

  Livia proceeded west down the slope on foot. When she reached the river valley where she could no longer be spotted from above, she mounted her horse and turned right, through the willow woods, towards the bridge and the sea.


  Ambrosinus, still inside the mansio, hadn’t closed an eye all night and had not failed to notice her movements. His decision had been made; he approached Romulus and nudged him gently until he awakened.

  ‘Shhhh!’ he whispered in his ear, to prevent any noisy reaction.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Romulus softly.

  ‘We’re leaving. Now. Livia has gone out; the ship may be arriving.’

  Romulus hugged him tightly and his embrace expressed all the boy’s gratitude for that unexpected deliverance; Ambrosinus could feel his longing to be free, to leave that hurtful, bitter world behind. He whispered: ‘Careful not to rustle the straw as you get up. We must move like shadows.’ He led the boy to the door that opened on to the little garden behind the house. Romulus looked around, waited until Batiatus’s thunderous snoring reached its peak, then followed his tutor on tiptoe out of the door. The horses to their left pawed the ground nervously. Juba shook his proud head and snorted loudly. Ambrosinus signalled for the boy to stop and flatten himself against the wall.

  ‘Let’s give him a moment to calm down,’ he said, ‘and then we’ll head towards the forest. We’ll find a safe place to hide and wait there until this has all blown over. Then we’ll begin our journey, you and I alone.’

  ‘But if I run away, Aurelius and his friends won’t have their reward! They’ll have worked so hard and risked their lives for nothing.’

  ‘Shhh!’ insisted Ambrosinus. ‘This is no time to start having qualms! They’ll cope.’

  The horse’s excitement was growing instead of abating, and Juba finally reared up and struck the wall with his front hooves, letting out a high whinny.

  ‘Let’s get out of here immediately,’ said Ambrosinus, taking the boy by his arm. ‘That animal is waking everyone!’ He was about to set off when a steel hand sank into his shoulder, paralysing him.

  ‘Stop!’

  ‘Aurelius,’ said Ambrosinus, recognizing him in the darkness, ‘let us go, I beg of you. Restore this boy’s freedom, if you care for him at all. He has suffered so much . . . let him go free.’ But Aurelius, without loosening his grip, was looking in another direction.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re saying,’ he replied. ‘Look, over there, near those trees.’

  Ambrosinus peered in the direction Aurelius was indicating: he saw a confused rush of threatening shadows and he felt his heart sink in his chest.

  ‘Oh most merciful God . . .’ he murmured.

  *

  Livia, in the meantime, had reached the bridge and could make out a figure behind a tamarisk bush, holding a lantern in the early dawn. She spurred on her mount until she was close enough to recognize him: ‘Stephanus!’

  ‘Livia,’ came the other’s response.

  ‘We chose a difficult route through the woods, but we managed to arrive in time regardless. Everything went well. The boy and his tutor are safe, and our men did a magnificent job. But where is the ship? It’s nearly sunrise, and it should have been here last night. Embarking him in full daylight will be risky – and anyone could have seen you signalling like that!’

  Stephanus interrupted her abruptly. ‘The ship isn’t coming any more.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You heard me well, unfortunately. The ship won’t be coming.’

  ‘Was it attacked? Sunk?’

  ‘No, no shipwreck. It’s simply that . . . things have changed.’

  ‘Listen, I don’t like this. I’ve risked my life for this mission, and so have my men . . .’

  ‘Calm down, please. It’s not our fault. In Constantinople, Zeno has reconquered the throne usurped by Basiliscus, but he needs peace to consolidate his power. He can’t antagonize Odoacer, and as you know well, Julius Nepos has always been his candidate for the Western throne.’

  Livia suddenly realized the alarming implications of what he was saying, for all of them. ‘Has Antemius been informed of all of this?’ she asked.

  ‘Antemius had no choice.’

  ‘Damnation! But this will mean the boy’s death!’

  ‘No it won’t. That’s why I’m here. I have a boat a little further up north, near the mouth of the river. We can go to my villa in Rimini, you’ll all be safe there, but we must be quick; we’re too exposed here.’

  Livia jumped into the saddle: ‘I’m going to tell them what’s happened.’

  ‘No, wait,’ shouted Stephanus. ‘Look, up there!’

  Livia looked towards the hillside and saw a group of barbarian horsemen encircling the mansio from the south, while others emerged from the brush to join them. Stephanus tried to hold her back. ‘Wait, they’ll kill you!’ He tripped and his lantern fell to the ground, shattering and spilling its oil which burst into flames. Livia took one look at the field of stubble and the heaps of straw and didn’t hesitate an instant. She pulled her bow from its saddle strap, set the tip of one of her arrows on fire and shot it up in a high arch into the straw, followed by a second and a third, until the huge piles slowly began to give off dense clouds of smoke.

  ‘You’re mad!’ shouted Stephanus, getting up. ‘You’ll never succeed.’

  ‘That remains to be seen,’ shot back Livia.

  ‘I can’t stay here any longer, I have to get back,’ said Stephanus, visibly frightened by the turn events were taking. ‘I’ll be waiting for you in Rimini. Save yourself, for the love of God!’ Livia barely nodded her head and raced off on her horse towards the hillside.

  *

  The barbarians were so intent on surrounding the old mansio that they noticed nothing at first. They had left their horses and were advancing on foot with their swords drawn, awaiting a signal from their commander: Wulfila.

  The atmosphere was immersed in that unreal silence that falls upon nature when the voices of the nocturnal animals cease and the diurnal creatures do not yet dare to welcome the sun, the silence which separates the darkness of night from the first light of day. Only the sign hanging from the post creaked painfully as the first sea breeze touched it. Wulfila gave the signal, abruptly lowering his left hand which had been raised above his head. They stormed into the building, brandishing their weapons and plunging them into the unsuspecting bodies still buried in sleep. Just moments later, their furious swearing made it clear that they’d discovered the trick. There was only straw under the blankets: the mansio’s guests were gone.

  ‘Find them!’ screamed Wulfila. ‘They have to be around here somewhere. Look for their traces, they have horses with them!’ His men rushed outside, only to find fire consuming the field, the flames licked high by the gathering wind. It seemed a miraculous event, since Livia was still hidden from sight at the bottom of the river valley.

  ‘What the devil is happening?’ snarled Wulfila, who could not provide an explanation for that sudden change in scene. ‘It must have been them, damnation! Find them! They’re still close by!’

  The men obeyed, scattering all around, scouring the terrain until one of them found tracks of horses and men heading towards the forest. ‘This way!’ he shouted. ‘They went this way!’

  They all set off on the chase, but Livia realized what was happening and came out into the open to attract the enemy’s attention. Another one of her fire arrows hit its mark, spreading the flames, whilst a second flew through the air and struck one of the barbarians. Livia yelled: ‘This way, you bastards! Come and get me!’ She began prancing back and forth halfway up the hill, vanishing behind a thick curtain of smoke only to emerge farther down to strike again with her deadly darts.

  On Wulfila’s signal, three of his men separated from the group and raced at her, while the flames, fed by the wind, had transformed the entire field into a roaring brush fire. Livia’s pursuers were upon her, but she ran one of them through, dodged another and hurled herself at the third with her sword in hand. He charged her, screaming like a madman, but she managed to throw him off balance with a feint. She crashed into the side of his horse and sent him sprawling into the blaze. The shrieks of th
e barbarian, transformed into a human torch, were soon drowned out by the din of the flames. Livia galloped off through the hellish fields until she reached the edge of the forest and appeared all at once to her comrades with her sword in fist and her hair spread on the wind, like an ancient goddess of war.

  ‘We have to get out of here!’ she shouted. ‘We’ve been betrayed! Follow me, fast! They’ll be upon us any moment!’

  ‘Not before we’ve left them something to remember us by!’ replied Aurelius, and he gestured to his men posted behind the piled-up logs that Vatrenus had seen the night before. At his signal, they used their axes and swords to chop through the twine and Batiatus gave them a push and sent them rolling. The huge trunks quickly picked up speed as they flew down the hill, bouncing off the craggy terrain and sowing panic and death among Wulfila’s horsemen as they tried to make their way uphill. Other logs crashed into the blazing straw heaps and exploded them into balls of flames that the wind turned into burning clouds.

  Aurelius reached out his hand to Romulus so he could climb on to Juba, then they set off through the forest after Livia, who seemed to have some idea of where to go. They followed her at full tilt down a path which wound through the vegetation and ended up at an old branch of via Popilia, now little more than a trail which led into a thicket of brambles and oaklings. Livia jumped to the ground and pointed at a passage through the wood, slightly uphill from where they were. ‘Get off your horses and lead them by the reins. The last one to pass must be sure to cover our traces.’