Authors: Carrie Bedford
Marcus repeated the questions and this time, the soldier held a knife at the Hun’s throat. Still the Hun wouldn’t respond and the soldier pressed the knifepoint until it drew blood. The grin disappeared and the prisoner stopped struggling. He talked only briefly but it seemed to be enough to satisfy the soldier, who took the knife away and wiped the blade on the man’s tunic.
“He says the Hun soldiers began to leave after they saw Castinus fall. They’re heading home and Commander Aetius is with them.”
“Thank you. Take him away,” said Marcus. The soldiers saluted and dragged the prisoner away with them. He turned his head and screamed something unintelligible.
“I don’t really understand,” said Aurelia, once the man’s shouts had faded into the distance. “From what I’ve heard of them, the Huns are scared of nothing and fight to the bitter end. And they usually win. So why did they give up because Commander Castinus was killed?”
“They were fighting this battle as mercenaries for Aetius, don’t forget,” replied Marcus. “They had no objective other than to fight for money. Once they saw Castinus’ troops deserting, they had no incentive to stay. Let’s go congratulate Aspar and Felix.”
“Won’t you go after them?” asked Aurelia.
“The Huns? No. We’ll let them go. I doubt we’ll get any more trouble from them now or in the future.”
Despite the good news, I shivered.
Chapter 50
We celebrated our victory that night, but I was unsettled and disinclined to eat much of the food that had been prepared. I listened to the men talking about the events of the day and picked at the roasted goose on my plate. We’d won a battle, it was true, but there were more to be fought before I could take back the throne from the usurper, and I was impatient to move on.
The conversation turned to Johannes and I gave up all pretense of eating to listen more closely. Aspar was as anxious as I was, it seemed, to get to Ravenna. I knew he wanted to secure the release of his father as well as to complete his mission of deposing Johannes.
“Speed is our best weapon,” he was saying. “Johannes will soon know that he’s lost this battle and that his commander Castinus is dead. The less time he has to prepare for our attack, the better.”
“But Ravenna’s already prepared and very well protected,” I said, and all the men turned to look at me. “The city’s at the end of a mile long causeway through the marshes and access along it is impossible. Johannes will be able to send wave after wave of soldiers to defend it.”
“Placidia’s right.” Marcus gestured to a servant to bring more wine. “Ravenna has the reputation of being impregnable, which is the main reason why Honorius decided to move the imperial court there. The Goths could take Rome, but not Ravenna.”
“Nothing’s totally defensible,” said Felix. He paused to lick grease from his fingers. “There has to be another way in.”
Marcus was shaking his head. He knew as well as I did that we faced a formidable challenge. Ravenna was surrounded by high walls on all sides and was unassailable by sea. The causeway was the only point of access.
“My father has been able to send coded information in his letters,” said Aspar, lowering his voice and leaning in over the table. “He has details on the numbers of imperial soldiers stationed in Ravenna, and the whereabouts of the closest auxiliary units. With that information, I am sure we can come up with a plan for breaking through the defenses on the causeway.”
The three commanders began to debate possible strategies and I felt a sudden rush of fatigue. I rinsed my fingers in a small glass bowl of orange-scented water and stood up. Four servants stepped towards me to assist, offering me linens to wipe my hands dry and my cloak for the walk back to my tent. The men stood and I gestured at them to sit down again.
“Would you rather stay with Marcus?” I asked Aurelia, who shook her head.
“He’ll be up all night. Isn’t that right, my dearest?”
Marcus nodded and accepted a goodnight kiss from her. Then she linked arms with me and we followed our guards out into the night. It was chilly and the moon was high in the sky, lighting the path back to our tent. On the way, we passed groups of soldiers huddled over the braziers that burned brightly in the darkness.
“How strange to think we’ll be riding towards Ravenna soon,” I said. “When we left for Constantinople, I thought I’d never see it again. I’m homesick for it, I must confess, now that we are so close.”
Aurelia nodded. “I am too, although I know we have many obstacles to overcome before we will see the palace again. When will we start our journey?”
“We’ll find out more tomorrow,” I said.
But we were scarcely settled into our tent when a messenger arrived and gave me a note from Aspar, saying that we would be leaving Aquileia the following morning.
Our carriage kept pace with the columns of infantry that marched briskly in spite of the large pack each man carried. The equites followed behind, keeping their horses at a steady walk, and the wagons carrying supplies brought up the rear. Again, I was reminded of my travels with the Goths. The noise and the smells were the same: the rumble of wheels, the click of hooves on the cobblestone roads and the warm velvety scent of the horses mingling with the sweat of men.
We traveled all day and stopped at night. Within minutes of the bugle call for a halt, the men were at work erecting the camp. They put up tents, dug latrines, and set up fire pits for cooking. I’d heard many complaints in recent years that the Roman army had grown lazy and lax, but these men from the East, as well as Felix’s Goth unit, were proud and disciplined. I was glad to have them on my side.
Two days later, we stopped to make camp on the banks of the great river Po, a few miles from the causeway that led to Ravenna. While the preparations for supper were being made, Aurelia and I went for a walk, happy to see the familiar countryside again. Lit by the rosy glow of the setting sun, grain fields stretched away on the south side of the river, and the tips of the millet undulated softly in a gentle breeze. A white heron flew overhead and landed close by, looking at us warily while the air ruffled its snowy feathers.
Beyond the fields to the east were the labyrinthine marshes that surrounded Ravenna. Shallow, weed-choked lagoons corralled a multitude of small islands, and the entire area was intersected by deep-sea channels, which could be treacherous to unwary travelers. The sea tides that washed through the lagoons kept the water clean and the air pure for most of the year, but there were days when thick fogs descended and the islands were lost in the miasma.
I’d heard the tales of monsters, half human, half fish, that snared men in nets to drag them down to the muddy depths. I didn’t fear the lagoon creatures, but I knew the water could be deadly. The only safe way was along the causeway and I still had no idea how Marcus and Aspar intended to break through its impenetrable defense. Ravenna felt as far away as it had when I was in the East.
Later that evening, we assembled in the praetorium, Aspar’s tent, to discuss the strategy for the attack. The patrols had come back with confirmation of what everyone had expected; in addition to the usual checkpoints, there were new fortifications all along the length of the causeway, and they were heavily defended by Johannes’s troops.
“I still say we send in one infantry unit after another,” said Felix. “Wear down the defenses until we clear the way for the cavalry to go through. The brute force approach always works well, in my opinion.”
“No,” said Aspar. “We’d lose too many men and our forces would be weakened too much to be able to breach the city walls. Our only hope is to find our way through the marshes. We must wait until our patrols bring more information. But we have to make a move before Johannes can bring in infantry units from the garrisons in Mediolanum and Rome. We need to conserve all our fighting capacity for the attack on the city.”
The following morning, resigned to a day of inaction, I sat with Aurelia and watched messengers come and go. In the middle of the afternoon, several soldiers escorted an elderly man into the praetorium. He had long grey hair and skin tanned from years of outdoor living. His simple brown tunic and leather boots were well worn, and he carried with him a faint odor of sheep’s wool. His gnarled fingers grasped a carved crook.
“This shepherd says he can show us how to reach the city without going along the causeway,” said one of the soldiers.
Marcus gestured for him to come forward and the man did as he was told.
“Why would you give us this information?” Marcus asked.
The man grinned, revealing toothless gums. “’Cause I heard that Placida Augusta is on her way to fight the usurper and I want to help her, God bless her.”
I stood up and came forward so that he could see me. “I thank you for your assistance,” I said.
The man dipped his head and then looked up, his pale blue eyes looking into mine.
“It’s God’s will,” he replied.
I was surprised by his apparent ease in my presence. Peasants usually fell to their knees and wouldn’t dare to speak to me. But there was something unusual about this man. He seemed so calm and serene and I wondered if it was his work that gave him those qualities. Tending sheep in distant fields, far from civilization, must require a high level of self-sufficiency. I murmured to Marcus to offer him money but the man heard me and shook his head.
“I don’t want money for my services,” he said. “It’s my duty to share with you my knowledge of the area. Tell me when you wish to depart and I will take you to Ravenna, to an entrance in the wall that won’t be heavily guarded because no one expects us to know it is there.”
“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” demanded Aspar.
The man shrugged. “You can’t know anything for certain. You must have faith. But I’ll say again that my intentions are honorable and I wish only to help the Augusta return to her rightful place.”
“But how can we get an army through the marshes?” asked Aspar, his young face creased with doubt. “Everyone says it’s impossible.”
“I will show you,” the shepherd replied. “And we should go soon as the Ides approaches quickly.”
“And what has the date to do with it?” asked Aspar. “Is this some local superstition?”
The old man chuckled before answering. “No, my lord, but it is the day when the high tides turn and flow to the furthest point inland. Once the waterways are at full depth, the journey becomes impossible.”
Aspar and Marcus conferred in low whispers and then Aspar told the shepherd to return to the praetorium at dawn the following day. He offered him lodging and food, which the man declined, and he said he would be back at sun up.
“Crazy old bird,” remarked Aspar. “That’s probably the last we’ll see of him.”
But the next day, the shepherd returned and waited patiently while Aspar prepared his men for the assault on Ravenna. I knew it would be pointless to ask if I could accompany them. Marcus remained behind as well and I saw his frustration that his damaged leg that would not allow him to participate in the attack.
I stood outside to watch the columns of men disappear through the gate of the camp. Minutes later, a flock of crows flew high into the air with raucous cries and circled overhead before flying away. The silence that followed was profound. The early morning light was soft and muted, the same grey-green color as the lichen clinging to the trees that lined the river. I stood for a long time, gazing at the empty sky, which slowly brightened from grey to a gentle wash of blue.
Gradually, I became aware of other sounds; the men preparing breakfast for those who stayed behind, and the gentle lap of water on the riverbank. I went back into the tent and settled in for a long and anxious wait.
I refused food all day and my head ached. I tried to read but couldn’t concentrate and I ended up staring at the hypnotic movement of Aurelia’s needle, as she embroidered a pillow cover. In the afternoon, Marcus left to make plans with the cavalry tribune. The only way to give the horses access to Ravenna was along the causeway and so the equites waited as impatiently as I did for a call to advance.
Darkness fell and still there was no news. Servants brought dinner but we sent it away barely touched. There was no thought of retiring to sleep and I ordered more lamps to be lit. Marcus came back, looking tired.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
He shook his head as he leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I don’t know,” he said.
“What does that mean?” asked Aurelia. “Has the entire army disappeared into the marshes never to be seen again? Have the soldiers drowned?”
“It’s possible,” said Marcus. “Anything is possible.”
I stood up and walked to the front of the tent and back again. “It’s so quiet. I can’t bear not knowing what’s going on.”
The flames on the lamps ebbed as the oil burned away, and their warm glow was replaced with the grey light of dawn leaking in through the edges of the tent walls. Aurelia asked a servant to bring her a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. I didn’t feel the cold. My anxiety felt like a fire consuming me.
“Listen! Can you hear something?” Aurelia asked, standing up. Her blanket slid to the floor and pooled around her feet.
I went to the entrance, and the guards pulled back the flap so that I could walk outside. The sounds came from the direction of the gate, and I saw figures moving in the dim light. A guard’s voice cried halt and was answered with more shouting. Marcus joined me and we peered through the gloom to see two soldiers approaching. Their faces were dusty and one was streaked with blood, but they were smiling.