by M. K. Hume
‘Any of the guardsmen who wish to remain alive can accompany you, but I intend to ride south to the Middle Sea,’ Andragathius said. ‘There, I will decide how best to end my life. As we’ve been travelling, I’ve concluded that I rather like the idea of drowning. Valentinian and Theodosius will never gain satisfaction from displaying my body to the peasantry as they did with Marcellinus at Poetovio. No, I will do my best to rob them of that small satisfaction. I can’t take anything else from them. If I hurry, I can join my master’s spirit as it wings its way to Paradise. Ride hard and fast, so that my lord’s family has some chance of survival. I’ve left a store of supplies on your packhorses that will help your return to Britannia. One final word of advice! Avoid towns, hamlets and companions on your journey to your homeland. Trust no one! It’s likely that Theodosius will have assassins ranging far and wide for those of Maximus’s friends who have escaped the emperor’s net.’
He paused and then shot Aeron a fleeting smile intended to thank the young man for his service to Maximus. ‘Ave, Secretary. If your history should mention me, please say that I died without fear.’
Speechless, Aeron sat mutely on his horse as all but one young boy chose to ride with Andragathius to whatever death he selected. Their decisions made, the Romans trotted away with defiant grins and in a mood that was almost cheerful. Perhaps it is only when our choices are taken from us that we achieve a true measure of freedom.
And so the last remnants of Maximus’s army rode into the south, free from the cares and guilts of their world and the lesser men who struggled to survive in it.’
The lad grunted, but his vacuous blue eyes that were so like marbles told Aeron that he was either a simpleton or the battle had robbed him of his wits. He rode, he spoke and he performed the small actions of living without thought or emotion as if he was sleepwalking in the sunlight. Pleasure and pain both seemed beyond him.
The two men travelled down the hills and turned to the north in a silence that was complete and beyond argument. The younger man followed without thought, doing whatever Aeron ordered.
At Augusta Treverorum, Aeron retrieved his scrolls, parchments and notes, sealing them all into a large, waterproof trunk which he tied to the back of one of the packhorses. The boy who travelled with him had already decided to stay in the town; Aeron had been glad to see the last of him. As for Theodora, wife of Maximus, his audience with her had been odd and ambiguous. She had allowed herself to weep several tears, but then her face had cleared.
‘I will go to a nunnery with those of my daughters who are unwed. Given time, we will dedicate ourselves to God. If we do this, Valentinian might spare our lives. My son will be taken to safety, if I can persuade my cousin to take him. Perhaps I might still save us all, if God is kind. As for you, young man, you must flee as fast as you can. Friends of my husband will be hunted from sea to sea, so you must avoid towns and live off the land, if you can manage it. For now, take whatever supplies you might need from my kitchens to tide you through your journey.’
‘I am in your debt, my lady, so I will pray for you every morning as I go on my way.’
She looked at him steadfastly, but without any emotion. ‘Do you understand the dangers of hubris, young man? I hope you will never experience what hubris did to my husband and what it can do to all the great ones of this world.’
‘Aye, my lady. I do understand. I’ve seen much during my travels.’
‘Then go with God.’
She turned away with a stiff back so she wouldn’t have to watch his departure.
And then the long journey home began.
Weeks earlier, Maximus had stood in his full regalia in the forecourt of the governor’s villa. Valentinian and Theodosius were present, as was the general from Constantinople and officers of the guard, fine in their golden armour, their horsehair plumes and their impassive northern faces.
On Theodosius’s order, Maximus’s uniform was stripped from him, exactly as the clothing of his kinsman, Theodosius Major, and his father, Flavius Julius Crispus, had been removed when they were humiliated and executed in earlier times. His sword was broken, although the fine blade resisted their attempts to destroy it.
‘You can execute me, but you can’t rob me of my title as High King of the Britons,’ Maximus croaked. ‘That title was never yours to give, so I will die with standing that remains the equal of yours. Remember that, Theodosius, after I go to the shades. No matter how long it takes, I will be waiting for you beyond the veil.’
‘I prefer to worry about the here and the now,’ Theodosius retorted, his good humour undampened by Maximus’s bluster. ‘You have brought your execution on yourself.’
‘Better men than I have died thus. I will try to think on immortality as I choke, and I’ll wonder which of us will be remembered after the passage of time.’
Then the executioner looped the silken cord around Maximus’s head and the delicate, strong threads cut off the High King’s windpipe. Although his body tried to remain still, instinct betrayed him and Flavius Magnus Maximus perished in his own piss and shit, as all executed men do, even if they have stood as high as the gods themselves.
Theodosius and Valentinian congratulated each other and went in to dine as the dead emperor’s head was removed, to ride back to Rome on the point of a standard.
The rain came later and sweetened the forecourt, although the servants had washed away the last remaining traces of Maximus.
Few mourned and, within six months, very few remembered.
AUTHOR’S NOTES
This novel is about two great men, two warriors who actually lived in the dying days of the Roman Empire as a huge bureaucracy began to jerk and stutter as the cogs broke, one by one. But not for nearly a hundred years! The Roman way of life endured even after the body and brain perished, although men refused to believe that a long-enduring, magnificent culture could ever cease to exist. When Magnus Maximus came to Britannia for the first time, the empire was fatally poisoned, although its rulers still squabbled over its still-breathing corpse.
My two protagonists, Caradoc and Maximus, have little in common, but both men have the seeds of greatness as well as flaws that limit their importance. Had he lived, Maximus might have saved the whole empire, or at least held off its demise for another century. The emergence of the concept of a High King is fascinating, given the Arthurian legends, and the odd links with those legends which exist in Roman historical records to tease us with the possibility that truth shines through the legends as well.
I have always loved symmetry and, given my desire to understand the blend of history, myth and legend in the Arthuriad, I found the story of Maximus very satisfying. After Maximus, the records become sketchy and, by the middle of the fifth century, only fragments of evidence remain. The bulk of writings have virtually vanished, destroyed by war, barbarian invasions and some despotic rulers within the British establishment.
The position and historicity of Ambrosius, Uther Pendragon and Arthur on Maximus’s family tree are problematic, as are the family members of Maximus himself. I have chosen to accept the versions that make sense out of the world I am trying to create. What I have learned during my research is how cataclysmic the removal of the legions from Britannia really was, in that it contributed to the piecemeal destruction of a civilised people by the Anglo-Saxon invaders who took their place. This wanton destruction was, perhaps, the way of the world, but for anyone who is interested in the history of Britain, the gaping hole in the existing records is a great loss. All we can do to fill it is to try to knit together a plausible history from the fragments that remain.
King Caradoc of the Dumnonii tribe must have been a remarkable man to be so trusted by such a hard-headed, practical commander as Maximus. I have tried to bring him to life sympathetically, since he is so pivotal to the ancestry of King Gorlois of the Arthurian legends.
If you
should find that there are too many wars in my history, all I can say is that constant warfare was the lot of the disorganised kingdoms of the period. I have invented some of the family members of the various rulers, but most kings would have very few heirs to replace them because of infant mortality and the violence of the times in which they lived.
I have also drawn on The Dream of Macsen Wledig for inspiration.
Rome didn’t die overnight. Something so vast doesn’t perish suddenly. As a matter of record, her last Roman emperor was Flavius Petronius Maximus, grandson of Flavius Magnus Maximus, whose rule has gone down in history for its brevity and violence. I was delighted to discover that Theodosius and Valentinian failed to eliminate Maximus’s influence, so several very prominent men were later to claim him in their ancestry.
As far as history allows us to know, Maximus seems to have been the first king of a united tribal structure, but others may have existed in earlier, unrecorded history. For all that, we can certainly say that he was the first High King to use his status as a springboard to achieve his Roman ambitions. As an emperor of sorts, Maximus will remain an enigma.
I have enjoyed researching the last years of Roman Britain and have been fascinated by the ease with which it is possible to place Arthur into the post-Roman world. When I address the task of stitching history, myth and legend together, I am always tempted to believe that there may be some truth lurking in the murky, indistinct world of what is inaccurately labelled Britain’s Dark Ages. Surely some truth must lie among the fragments, even if they are exaggerated by time and poetic licence. And when they fit together so well, as in the history of Maximus, any sensible person must wonder where the truth lies.
The reference to Maximus’s father as a descendant of the Great Constantine was utterly fascinating. How entirely apt and neat is this possibility? Unfortunately, so much doubt and ignorance is part of the great man’s early life that we will never know if Theodosius was a practical man, eager to rid himself of a legitimate emperor.
As for Elen, she is mentioned in a remnant from the period as a wife of Maximus. Certainly, marriage to native women, especially the daughters of barbarian kings, was a frequent custom because this system bound tribes to Rome through bastard children who were cherished because of their link with the all-powerful legions. To become High King, Maximus would have had to take a suitable wife from a tribal, aristocratic family.
Some characters are entirely my own, most notably Decius and the lovers, Endellion and Aeron. I enjoy trying to capture the correct flavour and customs of the period by my own creations. They frequently speak with my voice.
Unfortunately, few facts are clear after Maximus, although the Romans were not quite finished with Britannia. Nor was Severa, or Sevira, quite lost in the annals of history. She appears out of the shadows for brief moments, permitting me to almost catch the shape of her face.
But that is another story.
M. K. Hume
June 2015
GLOSSARY OF PLACE NAMES
Alauna Maryport, Cumbria, England
Anderida Pevensey, East Sussex, England
Anderida Silva The district surrounding Anderida
Aquae Sulis Bath, Somerset, England
Augusta Treverorum Trier, Germany
Blatobulgium Birrens, Dumfriesshire, Scotland
Bodotria Aest Firth of Forth, Scotland
Bremetennacum Ribchester, Lancaster, England
Caer Fyrddin Carmarthen, Carmarthenshire, Wales
Caer Gai Llanuwchllyn, Gwynedd, Wales
Caerleon Newport, South Wales
Caernarfon Carnarvon, Gwynedd, Wales
Calleva Atrebatum Silchester, Hampshire, England
Canovium Caerhun, Conwy, Wales
Castra Exploratorum Netherby, Cumbria, England
Clausentum Southampton, Hampshire, England
Corinium Cirencester, Gloucestershire, England
Cymru The Celtic term for Wales
Deva Chester, Cheshire, England
Durnovaria Dorchester, Dorset, England
Dyfed A kingdom in the west of ancient Britain
Eburacum York, Yorkshire, England
Forest of Dean Gloucestershire, England
Gallia Cisalpina Province in France
Gesoriacum Boulogne, France. Also known as Portus Itius by the Romans
Glannaventa Ravenglass, Cumbria, England
Glevum Gloucester, Gloucestershire, England
Gwent A kingdom in the west of ancient Britain
Gwynedd A kingdom in the west of ancient Britain
Hibernia The ancient name for Ireland
Hispania Spain
Isca Dumnoniorum Exeter, Devonshire, England
Isca Silurum Caerleon, South Wales
Litus Saxonicum The English Channel
Londinium London, England
Lugudunum Lyon, France
Lutetia Small town near Paris. Now part of Paris
Mamucium Manchester, Greater Manchester, England
Mare Hibernicus Roman name for the Irish Sea
Massilia Marseille, France
Mediolanum Milan, Italy
Menai Straits The body of water between Wales and Anglesea Island
Middle Sea The Mediterranean Sea
Mona Island An island off the western coast of Britain
Nemetocenna Arras, France
Oceanus Atlanticus Atlantic Ocean
Parisii Paris, France
Pennal Machynlleth, Merionethshire, Wales
Portus Adurni Portchester, Hampshire, England
Powys A kingdom in the west of ancient Britain
Red Wells A legendary well in modern-day Somerset, England
Rhodanus River Rhone River, France
Samarobriva Amiens, France
Segedunum Wallsend, Tyne and Wear, England
Segontium Caernarfon, Gwynedd, North Wales.
Sequana River Seine River, France
Sorviodunum Salisbury, Wiltshire, England
Tintagel A fortress in Cornwall, England
Vellum Antonini The Antonini Wall
Vellum Hadriani Hadrian’s Wall
Venta Belgarum Winchester, Hampshire, England
Venta Silurum Caerwent, Monmouthshire, Wales
Verlucio Sandy Lane, Wiltshire, England
Verulamium St Albans, Hertfordshire, England
Vindo Cladia Badbury, Wiltshire, England
GLOSSARY OF BRITISH TRIBAL NAMES
Atrebates
Belgae
Brigante
Catuvellauni
Coritani
Cornovii
Deceangli
Demetae
Dumnonii
Dobunni
Durotriges
Iceni
Otadini
Ordovice
Regni
Selgovae
Silures
Trinovantes