The Last Legion

by Valerio Massimo Manfredi

  ‘Excellent solution,’ approved Livia. ‘I’m going to prepare for my departure.’ She picked up her gear and went towards her horse, who was grazing not too far away.

  Aurelius followed her. ‘Rimini,’ he said, ‘is very close to home for you. Just a few hours’ boat ride and you’ll be in your city on the lagoon. What will you do?’

  ‘I’ll come back,’ replied Livia. ‘As I promised.’

  ‘We’re going towards the unknown,’ Aurelius insisted, ‘following the dreams of an old man, accompanying a boy emperor hunted by fierce enemies. I don’t think it’s wise for you to continue on this journey. Your city on the water is waiting for you. Your friends will be worried about you, not having seen you in such a long time. You do have people you love there, don’t you?’

  Livia stared off over the valley, over the sea of fog from which only the tips of the tallest trees emerged, along with a little town perched at the top of a hill. Slender wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys of the houses like evening prayers towards a starry sky, and the barking of the dogs was muted by the cold, dim atmosphere that lay heavily on the plains. Since they’d left the mansio at Fanum she and Aurelius had never been alone, leading each to believe that the other was avoiding even the briefest moment of intimacy, as if they feared that there would never be another reason to fall into each other’s arms, never another moment as pressing as their farewell in Fanum. It was like watching the sun sink into a foggy horizon and fearing that it would never rise the next day.

  ‘Would you ever have expected such an end to our endeavour?’ Aurelius spoke again.

  ‘No,’ replied Livia, ‘but that’s not very important right now.’

  ‘What is important then?’

  ‘Why we’re doing what we are. Why are you continuing with them? Why have you decided to follow them?’

  ‘Because I care about the boy. He has no one else to defend him. Half of the world wants him dead, and the other half wouldn’t mind it at all if he died. That young boy is carrying a weight on his shoulders that will end up crushing him. Or maybe the answer is even more simple: I don’t know where else to go, what else to do.’

  ‘And what makes you think your shoulders are big enough to carry that weight for him? Like Hercules, holding up the vault of the heavens for Atlas.’

  ‘Your sarcasm is unfair,’ replied Aurelius, turning away.

  ‘Aurelius, forgive me,’ said Livia. ‘I’m sorry. It’s myself that I’m angry at: for letting myself be tricked into this, for dragging the rest of you into this crazy adventure without being able to repay you or reward you, for exposing all of you to such mortal danger.’

  ‘And for having lost control of the mission. Now you are no longer leading the others, but following along without knowing where we’re going or what awaits us.’

  ‘Of course, you’re right,’ she admitted. ‘I’m used to making plans and carrying them out. I’m upset by the unexpected.’

  ‘Is that why you’re avoiding me?’

  ‘It’s you who are avoiding me,’ shot back Livia.

  ‘We’re afraid of our feelings . . . maybe.’

  ‘Feelings . . . you don’t know what you’re talking about, soldier,’ Livia lashed out. ‘How many friends have you seen killed on the battlefield, how many towns and villages burnt to the ground, how many women raped? How can you still think that there is any room left for feelings in a world like ours?’

  ‘You haven’t always felt that way: when you spoke to me about your homeland, when you covered Romulus with your cloak and held him close on your horse.’

  ‘That was different. The mission was practically concluded. The boy was going to be taken to a place where he would be cared for and respected, you were going to be paid and so was I. The promises for the future were all good, just then.’

  ‘I can’t believe that was the only reason.’

  ‘All right. I was just a step away from finding a man I’d been searching for, for years.’

  ‘And that man didn’t let himself be found, did he?’

  ‘No, he didn’t. Out of fear, cowardice, how am I to know?’

  ‘Think what you like. I can’t play the part of someone I’m not. I’m not the hero you’re looking for, and not enough of an actor to pretend that I am. I’d say that I’m a good combatant, and that makes me a fairly common man these days. Nothing more than that. You want someone or something that you lost that night you fled from Aquileia. That young man who gave up his place on the boat for you and your mother represents your roots, roots ripped from the ground before you were grown. Something died in you that night, something that you’ve never managed to revive. Then, suddenly, you find a stranger, a legionary fleeing through the swamps of Ravenna, hunted by a band of barbarians, and you think you’ve found your ghost. It was just the similarity of the situation, nothing more, that struck up that association in your mind: the legionary, the barbarians, the boat, the lagoon . . . It was like a dream, Livia, understand? It happened like in a dream.’

  He gazed into her eyes, damp with tears that she tried fiercely to blink back, gritting her teeth. He continued: ‘What did you expect? That I would follow you back to your city on the water? That I would help you to revive Aquileia, lost for ever? You know, that might even have been possible. Anything is possible – just as nothing is possible – for a man in my condition, a man who has lost everything, even his memories. But one thing has remained. It’s the only thing that has remained to me: my word as a Roman. The concept is obsolete, I realize that: stuff you just read about in history books. Yet it’s an anchor for someone like me, a point of reference if you will, and I gave my word to a dying man. I promised to save his son. I tried to convince myself that a single attempt had exonerated me, that I could give it up even though I’d failed, but no, the one try wasn’t enough: I keep hearing his words in my mind, and there’s no way I can be free of them. That’s why I followed you to Misenum and that’s why I’ll continue to stay by the boy’s side until I know that he is safe somewhere: in Britannia, at the ends of the earth, who knows?’

  ‘What about me?’ asked Livia. ‘Don’t I represent anything to you?’

  ‘You certainly do,’ answered Aurelius. ‘You represent everything I can’t have.’

  Livia hurled a look of wounded passion and disappointment at him, but didn’t say a word. She walked away and continued her preparations.

  Ambrosinus approached her with the little roll of parchment on which he’d traced their itinerary. ‘This is your map,’ he said. ‘I hope you’ll never need to use it and that we’ll see each other two days from now.’

  ‘I hope so as well,’ replied Livia.

  ‘Perhaps this mission of yours isn’t really necessary . . .’

  ‘It’s indispensable,’ she replied. ‘Imagine that one of the horses goes lame, or that one of us falls ill, or that we have to find a boat. If we have money, our journey will proceed much more quickly and smoothly. If we’re forced to look for help as we go along, we’ll have to come out of hiding and we’ll certainly be noticed. Don’t fear, Ambrosinus. I’ll be back.’

  ‘I’m certain of that, but until you are, we’ll all be worried. Especially Aurelius.’

  Livia lowered her head without speaking.

  ‘Try to get some rest,’ said Ambrosinus, as he left her.

  *

  Livia awoke before dawn, fitted her horse’s bit and took her blanket and weapons.

  ‘Take care, I beg of you,’ sounded Aurelius’s voice behind her.

  ‘I’ll be careful,’ replied Livia. ‘I can take care of myself.’

  Aurelius pulled her towards him and kissed her. Livia gave in to his embrace for a few moments, then leapt on to the saddle. ‘You take care of yourself,’ she told him. She spurred on her horse and set off at a gallop. She rode through the forest until she reached the valley of the Ariminus river and continued at a steady pace along the bank for several hours, heading resolutely towards her destination. The sky was overcast
again; huge puffy black clouds were being pushed in by the sea breeze, and it soon started to rain. Livia covered up as best she could and rode down a lonely path without meeting anyone but a few hurrying farmers or servants surprised by the bad weather on their way to the fields or to work.

  She came within sight of Rimini late in the afternoon and turned south, leaving the city on her left. She could see the city walls and the top of the crumbling amphitheatre in the distance. Stephanus’s villa appeared after she crossed via Flaminia, its basalt slabs gleaming metallic under the rain. The villa looked like a fortress; two towers flanked the entrance, and a sentry walk topped the perimeter wall. Armed men guarded the entrance and patrolled the walkway and Livia hesitated; she didn’t want to be noticed. She encircled the building until she saw a servant leaving through a service door near the stables, and approached him.

  ‘Is your master Stephanus in?’

  ‘What do you want him for?’ snapped back the man ungracefully. ‘Go to the entrance and have yourself announced.’

  ‘If he is home, tell him that the friend he met in Fanum a couple of days ago is out here and needs to talk with him.’ She took one of the few coins she had left and slipped it into his hand.

  The man looked at the coin, and then at Livia, dripping wet in the rain. ‘Wait here,’ he said, and went back into the building. He soon returned in great haste and said, simply: ‘Hurry up now, come in.’ He secured her horse to an iron ring hanging on the wall under a canopy, and led the way. They walked down a hall to a closed door, where the servant left her alone.

  She knocked lightly and the latch immediately flew up. Stephanus greeted her: ‘Finally! I’d lost all hope. I’ve been so worried all this time, not knowing anything about your fate. Come in, please, and dry off. You are soaking!’

  Livia entered the vast room at the centre of which a lively fire was burning; she drifted towards it, attracted by its warmth. Stephanus called two maidservants. ‘Take care of my guest,’ he ordered. ‘Prepare a bath and dry clothes for her to change into.’

  Livia tried to stop him. ‘I can’t stay, I have to leave again immediately.’

  ‘How can you say that! Look at the condition you’re in. There’s nothing more urgent than you taking a warm bath and then joining me at a finely laid table. We must talk, the two of us. You have to tell me everything that’s happened and how I can help you.’

  Livia felt the warmth of the fire on her face and hands, and the troubles and hardships of the previous days seemed to weigh upon her intolerably. A bath and a hot meal seemed like the most desirable things in the world, and she nodded. ‘I’ll have a bath and something to eat,’ she said, ‘but then I must leave.’

  Stephanus smiled. ‘That’s better! Follow these ladies and they’ll make a new woman of you!’

  She was taken to a little room decorated with ancient mosaics and scented with rare essences, saturated by the steam rising from the huge marble bathtub at the centre of the room, filled to the brim with hot water. Livia undressed and slipped into the water, laying her weapons – a pair of razor-sharp daggers – at the edge of the tub, under the astonished eyes of the maids. She stretched out her stiff limbs and delightedly breathed in the perfume that permeated the atmosphere. She’d never had such an experience in her whole life, she had never enjoyed such pampering. One of the women sponged her shoulders and back, massaging them with great expertise, as the other washed her hair with scented water. Livia let herself sink back into the tub, closing her eyes as she seemed to dissolve in that delicious warmth. When she stepped out they dressed her in an elegant, finely-embroidered Phrygian wool tunic and a pair of soft slippers, while her muddy leather trousers and corselet were handed over to a laundress.

  Stephanus awaited her in the dining room and he came towards her with a smile: ‘Incredible!’ he exclaimed. ‘What an astonishing metamorphosis! You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’

  Embarrassed by such a new and uncomfortable situation, Livia replied brusquely. ‘I didn’t come to receive compliments. I came for what you promised me. It’s not my fault that things changed: I brought my mission to completion and I must pay my men.’

  Stephanus assumed a more detached tone. ‘Point well taken,’ he replied. ‘Unfortunately, the money you were promised was to come from Constantinople, but since the situation has changed so radically, you undoubtedly realize . . . but please, sit down, have something to eat.’ He gestured to the steward, who served her roast fish and poured some wine.

  ‘I need the money,’ Livia insisted. ‘Even if it’s not the sum we agreed upon, give me whatever you can. Those men risked their lives and I gave them my word. I can’t just say, “Thank you, nice work, you can go now.”’

  ‘You don’t have to tell them anything. You can stay here as long as you like. It would be a great pleasure for me and no one will come looking for you.’

  Livia took a large piece of fish and swallowed down a glass of wine, and then said: ‘You don’t think so? You forget that those men climbed the cliff of Capri, killed fifteen guards, liberated the emperor and crossed half of Italy without any of Wulfila’s ruffians catching up with them. They could be waiting outside this very instant.’

  Stephanus backed down. ‘That’s not what I meant . . . it’s just that . . . no one could have foreseen what happened. What do you intend to do with the boy?’ he asked.

  ‘Take him to safety.’

  ‘In your city?’

  ‘I can’t say. Someone might be listening.’

  ‘Absolutely right,’ Stephanus nodded. ‘It’s best to be prudent. These days, the walls have ears.’

  ‘Well then, what’s your answer? I have to leave tomorrow morning at the latest.’

  ‘How much do you need?’

  ‘Two hundred solids will suffice. It’s a small part of what we agreed upon.’

  ‘It’s a large sum none the less. I don’t have that much money here. I can send for it.’ He whispered into the ear of a servant, who hurried away. ‘If all goes well, you should have your money tomorrow, so at least I’ll have the pleasure of having you as my guest tonight. Are you sure you can’t remain any longer?’

  ‘I told you. Tomorrow morning at the latest.’

  Stephanus seemed resigned, and resumed his dinner without insisting. A little later he poured himself some wine and leaned in close, assuming a confidential tone: ‘You know, there’s still a way for you to earn that sum we agreed upon. Even much, much more.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ asked Livia.

  ‘I’ve heard that one of your men had a sword: a very particular sword. The hilt is shaped like an eagle’s head, with two open wings as the guard. You know what I’m speaking of, don’t you?’

  It was evident that Stephanus had very precise information and that it would be useless to refute him. Livia nodded.

  ‘There’s someone who would pay an enormous amount of money to have that sword. That would make things much easier on you, wouldn’t it? Everything would be so much simpler.’

  ‘I’m afraid it was lost during a sword fight,’ she lied.

  Stephanus lowered his head with obvious disappointment and did not insist further.

  ‘What has happened to Antemius?’ asked Livia to change the subject.

  ‘It was he who sent me to warn you of the danger you were in; his plan had been discovered, and he wanted me to save you. Unfortunately I arrived too late, but at least you managed to escape. I haven’t seen Antemius since then and I’m afraid not much can be done for him. If he’s still alive, that is.’

  ‘I understand,’ replied Livia.

  Stephanus stood and approached her, laying his hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you really so sure you want to go back to the woods, to be hunted down like an animal? Listen to me. You’ve already done everything in your power. You’re under no obligation to continue to risk your life for that child. Stay with me, I beg of you. I’ve always admired you, I . . .

  Livia stared at him w
ith a firm gaze. ‘Stephanus, that’s impossible. I could never live in a place like this, in the lap of such luxury, not after all the poverty and suffering I’ve seen.’

  ‘Where are you directed?’ Stephanus persisted. ‘Perhaps I can help you, at least.’

  ‘We haven’t decided. And now, if you will excuse me, I would like to retire. I haven’t really slept for many nights.’

  ‘As you wish,’ replied Stephanus, and called the maidservants who would accompany her to the bed chamber.

  *

  Livia undressed as the women removed the earthenware jar containing ashes and embers that had warmed the bed. She lay down, relishing that marvellous lavender-scented warmth, but couldn’t fall asleep. The storm raged outside: rain pounded down on the roof and terraces and lightning penetrated through the cracks in the shutters, casting a livid glow on the ceiling as thunder exploded with such deafening claps that she started under the covers. She thought of her companions, huddled together somewhere in the middle of the forest, sitting in the dark around a smoky campfire, and she felt like crying. She would leave as soon as she had the money.

  Absorbed in his own thoughts, Stephanus lingered by the fire on the ground floor, petting a large molossian hound stretched out next to him on a mat. Livia’s beauty had disturbed him. The admiration and desire that he’d always felt for her since the first time he’d seen her on the lagoon had become an obsession. The thought that she was in his house, lying there in the bedroom, covered in only a light gown, drove him wild. How could he ever hope to tame such a creature? The luxury and comforts he’d heaped on her seemed to make no impression whatsoever, nor did the promise of a great sum of money. He was certain that she was lying when she’d said that the sword had been lost. That sword . . . he’d give anything to be able to see it, to touch it with his hand. It was the symbol of the power he desired with all his soul, and of the kind of strength that he had always coveted and never had.