Chapter 5:
The Emperor sat timidly in his chair as his general, Ricimer strode back and forth in front of him. After the Senate meeting, he had personally requested Ricimer to present himself at the Palace. Livius was troubled about the Sarmatian's comments. There was no political ulterior motive, no hidden agenda, no lies. Because of that, her words had lingered in his mind. With no solution for his crumbling empire, he called upon Ricimer.
"Is it true then?" he humbly asked. Whenever Livius was in the presence of the General, he felt weaker and inferior.
"The Sarmatian speaks the truth, " he admitted reluctantly. "We have lost the Iberian peninsula to the Visigoths, and we are losing the Greek islands. However there is some good news from the north. General Aetius has won a great battle against Attila the Hun in Gaul. His victory has stabilized our provinces in Gaul for the time being."
"Then I shall award him with great wealth upon his return to Rome," Livius said.
Ricimer pursed his lips. Though it was a great victory for Rome, it threatened his hold on the Emperor. If Aetius was to gain favour with the Emperor, he could potentially turn Livius against him, and in unstable times, that could be deadly. "I would not welcome Aetius with such generosity, your majesty."
"Why not? He has won a great victory for Rome."
"Do you not see? He will use his campaign to gain the throne. It is known he allies with Senator Gracchus. With his victory, the people will hail him as a hero. They will support him if he calls upon it. Be warned, your majesty. They will take what's yours when you least suspect it."
"Aetius is loyal to me. He won't do anything."
Ricimer shook his head and leaned down towards the emperor just close enough to his ear to whisper, "He is loyal to the throne, not to you. And he is loyal to himself. He wants Rome for himself."
Ricimer took a step back and smirked. Livius' naivety had made it possible for such easy manipulations. If it weren't for his Germanic background, he'd be sitting on that chair himself. Fortunately for him, the instability of Rome has continued to secure his power through the Western Empire. For him, it was only a matter of time before he gained control of Constantinople
"So what now, Ricimer? You expect me to get rid one of my best generals?"
"I am not telling you to do anything, your majesty. I am merely telling you to be cautious."
"And what of the provinces? Do you need more men for your campaigns?"
"I believe it is time to abandon the lands that are no longer useful to us."
"That is what Senator Flavius suggested. I agree with it. A smaller empire would give us better control."
Ricimer nodded, satisfied that the foolish emperor was so easily persuaded. "We should start with the north. Abandon the British posts, then Gaul."
Livius waved him off, "Yes yes, do what you must General. You will tell Bishop Germanius of our updates. He is to travel to Britain today. He will tell the remaining posts at Hadrian's wall to leave. Now you must excuse me, I must bathe."
Isolde groaned. She was sore and her head was pounding. As she slightly moved her body, she slowly became aware that she was in her bed. Opening her eyes, which proved difficult because of the light, she saw that she was in her own room, which she quickly concluded that it was Titus who brought her back. She made a mental note to thank him before she left today.
Speaking of which, she was late. "Dammit," she muttered.
It was well past dawn, and she should have her horse saddled by now. She quickly untangled herself from her covers and shot out of bed, much to the protest of her pounding head. In record time, she was out the door, with her armour half on, and her sword in her hand. Fortunately for her, there wasn't anybody at the stable save for the few slaves who were cleaning out the hay. She went to her stall where her horse, much to her surprise was already saddled and ready to go. Isolde smiled, as she knew Titus was behind that, and it saddened her to leave him for such a long time. This mission would be the first one without her comrades, and the thought of it made her slightly lonely.
The commotion outside startled the Sarmatian knight, causing her to drop her sword that she was currently inspecting. Curious, she stepped outside and saw a crowd of people surrounding one man. She saw some of them were throwing pieces of bread at him, while others were protecting him. Upon closer inspection, she recognized the man as Pelagius, the outspoken scholar whose preachings have led the Church to label him a heretic. The crowd was yelling at him, cursing him, while he held his head up with dignity and integrity. Isolde ignored them for she hated involving herself in religion. Religion always led to politics, and Isolde hated that. She figured the crowd would just die off and everybody would move on. As she was turning, something shined in the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she whipped her head around just in time to see a hooded man pull out a dagger and aiming it towards Pelagius. Isolde instantly pulled out a dagger from her boot and threw it in the man's arm, causing him to cry out in pain and drop his own weapon.
Everybody seemed to have stopped as Isolde ran up to the mysterious assassin and dragged him to a wall and pinned him up. "Who are you?" she asked slowly.
The man, whose face could now be clearly seen had a long scar running down the side of his face. Isolde noted his youthful appearance and secretly began to wonder who hired him.
"He who speaks out against the Church is deemed a heretic!" he cried out.
Isolde shoved him harder against the wall, "Wrong answer! Who sent you?"
"I am the Lord's servant, you Pagan! I am doing God's work by ridding the world of his enemies."
"You're despicable," she hissed. She reached down and aggressively pulled out her dagger. The man yelled out in pain, as Isolde dropped him to the ground. She looked around and saw that 2 Roman soldiers had joined the circle that surrounded her. She motioned to them, and they quickly picked up the man. "Arrest him for attempted murder."
Through screams and curses, they dragged the man away. Isolde placed her dagger back in her boot and began to make her way back to the stables. "Wait! Wait!"
She turned around to see Pelagius chasing after her. She took the time to study him. Pelagius was younger than what she expected. He had playful eyes, but his face seemed tired. "I wish to thank you. You just saved my life."
Isolde humble smiled, "By the looks of it, you're not well liked in Rome."
"No, no I'm not. Unfortunately there are certain individuals in the Senate would have already put a price on my head. And the Church is in full support of them."
"I'm…not sure I follow."
"I've been excommunicated by the church, my child. And now…they want me to leave the city. But I guess that's not good enough for some people."
Isolde cursed under her breath. Roman politics; it was getting out of hand. "Do you need protection? I can ask some of the men to escort you to the border at least. I'd do it myself, but I leave for Britain at high noon."
"Briton?" he asked with astonishment.
"I'm to escort the very man who condemns you, to Hadrian's Wall," Isolde said with distaste.
"Hadrian's Wall…" he muttered, though Isolde thought he was talking to himself rather than her. He looked up and stared straight into her eyes with such clarity and conviction, it made the Sarmatian shiver. It was no wonder half the Senators were scared of him. "Tell me, do you know if Artorius Castus is still stationed at the wall?"
Isolde's eyebrows raised at the sound of the name. She hadn't heard his named whispered or mentioned in such a long time that it almost seemed foreign. But she knew, deep down that she could never forget such a gentle person. "To the best of my knowledge, he's still there."
Hastily, Pelagius began rummaging through his robes until he pulled out a simple scroll that was sealed in red wax. He handed it to Isolde, "If you see him, please deliver this to him."
With reluctance, Isolde took the scroll out of the scholar's hand and nodded to him. "Whatever you do," he continued, "don't let the bishop know you carry that letter. It is of utmost importance. And please don't tell Artorius I'm in danger. I wouldn't want to worry him"
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. I do one nice deed and I'm getting myself entangled in a political game.
The Bishop of Rome, Marcus thought. He couldn't believe he made that deal with Germanius. It was completely impulsive, not to mention impossible for Marcus to fulfill his promise. As he walked along the halls of the Emperor's palace, he was trying to find a way out of his problem. It was near damn impossible for Germanius to succeed the current pope. First he'd have to influence the cardinals, eliminate the other candidates and his most difficult problem – getting rid of the current pope. He stopped walking and let out a huge sigh. This was going to be impossible.
Unless….
Marcus picked up his pace, looking for the very person who could fix this mess. Making a turn, he ran into a slave, to which he hastily asked where the Emperor was.
Giving a low bow, he humbly replied, "He is taking a bath, my lord. Would you like me to take you to him?"
Marcus waved him off, and continued down the hall where the Emperor's private room was located. He had been there once or twice before, where he had the privilege to spend some personal time with him. Rumours had sparked that Marcus had become the Emperor's secret lover, and that he was plotting to murder the Emperor's wife. They were all lies, though. Everybody who knew Marcus knew better than to listen to such common gossip.
Marcus approached the door and told another slave to make his presence known to Livius. He stood up straight, and dusted off his armour, while he waited.
The door opened, and he caught a glimpse of the emperor of the Western Empire stepping out of the water and into his chamber. The slave who opened the door bowed down low, acknowledging the rank of Marcus. He held his head up high, as if complimented by the sudden recognition of power and greatness and strode confidently into the Emperor's chamber, ignoring the lowly existence of a slave.
"And what brings you to my private chambers, soldier?" spoke a voice behind some drapery. The figure emerged from behind the lavish purple drapes, and Marcus quietly observed Livius. He was short in stature who was timid when it came to speaking in front of the senate, but loved the ridiculous lifestyle of a patrician. Marcus sometimes wondered if the Western Empire was better off with Livius dead.
But he kept that to himself, of course.
Marcus cleared his throat, preparing himself for the worst possible scenario. "I've come to you…for a great personal favour."
The ruler of the Western Empire arched his eyebrow in intrigue. "Oh? What favour do you think I can grant you, if I choose to do so at all?"
He inwardly smiled. Livius loved it. He loved the power, the respect, the fear. He loved being looked up upon, as if he were a god. He looked at Marcus, and he could the fear and desperation in his eyes; and Livius absolutely loved it.
"I come to you with great humility and humbleness. But I have found myself trapped in a corner and I cannot escape. And it is only you who can help me." He paused slightly, but then continued. "The matter concerns Isolde of Sarmatia."
"A simple servant? You come to me regarding matters of a flea?"
"The situation is much more complicated than that, I assure you. I have come to ask you to release her from her service from the Roman military and grant her Roman citizenship. She has less than 2 years left." Marcus cast his eyes down, silently accepting defeat. It was an utterly stupid idea to as the Emperor of such a trivial matter.
"Why?" Livius asked, "what benefit will it serve me?"
Marcus slumped his shoulders. He has failed to think of a reason beforehand. Of course it wouldn't have benefited him. Losing Isolde was almost equivalent to losing at 10 good and abled men. "It would benefit you personally," he spurted out desperately.
"Me? How?"
"Her scouting skills are impeccable. She could sniff out your most dangerous enemies…in the senate, perhaps. She could stop any assassination attempt that could put your life in danger. Release her, and she could prove useful to you. Let her serve you and you alone."
"If I release her, she could leave the city."
"Not if she's married to a Roman citizen. Then she's bound to her husband."
The emperor narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "You want to marry her, don't you Primus Pilus?" He lightly chuckled, "You'd have to do better than that, my friend."
The soldier silently accepted defeat. He would now need to find a way to make Germanius the next bishop before his return, and that was damn near impossible.
"If I grant you this favour Primus Pilus, you are forever indebted to me – you and your wife-to-be..and perhaps your sons and daughters. You would all be indebted to me," the emperor suddenly said. "It would be longer than a silly 15 year service to the military. You would answer my every call and obey my every command."
Livius spoke the last part slowly, stressing each and every word making Marcus know of his intentions. If the solider wanted his help, he would give it…for a price, of course. Marcus looked up to his superior, where he suddenly felt small and insignificant. Whether he dealt with the bishop or the emperor, he would somehow, someway be always within their grasp. Either way, he was selling his soul. He wanted it so bad he could almost taste victory.
"You are my emperor. It is my duty to serve your every need." Marcus stood up straight and saluted Livius in the traditional Roman salute, sealing his fate…and Isolde's as well.
The emperor knowingly smiled in satisfaction.
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