Gigi flicked her cell phone shut and kissed him lightly, barely brushing her lips against his. “It’s getting dark, handsome,” she said in English. “You don’t need the shades any more.”
“I speaking not good English today,” Magnus said, smiling. He pushed the sunglasses onto his forehead and switched back to Latin. “And you told me I look good with them on. I was just aiming to please.”
“I’ve made a decision,” Gigi said in Latin, sitting next to him. “I want to sponsor music schools for kids in places where they’d have no access otherwise. Something to inspire them, give them dreams.”
Magnus nodded. “That sounds wonderful, but what made you think of this?”
“Teaching Athaulf’s children. I think about them all the time.”
“As do I, but we are here now and can do no more for them.” He kissed her hand. “So, your parents will arrive when?”
“Noon tomorrow — I can hardly wait! They’re in London right now, waiting for a flight to Athens. I’m glad we decided to get out of Ravenna and meet them here. Jack was sure the paparazzi were on our trail and would’ve mobbed us if we’d stayed. None of us could have taken that.”
Magnus pulled her close and Gigi rested her head on his chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as he said, “And they flew through the skies from the far side of the Earth, taking only a day?”
“Indeed, in a jet.”
Magnus groaned and shook his head. “It would be too unsettling, too unnatural to travel like that.”
Gigi kissed his chin. “I used to fly all the time, and so will you, soon.” She switched to English. “It’s no big deal.”
“No, it too big deal,” he countered, then switched to Latin again. “I’ll follow on horseback, if you don’t mind. What have you told them about me?”
Shrugging, Gigi gazed out over the water toward the small, quiet beach, the lush dark hills surrounding it, and the very few twinkling lights. “Jack really freaked when I disappeared. He was sure I’d been kidnapped. I told him the truth, but I told my parents it was love at first sight, we ran off and eloped, and now we’re back. I apologized about a million times, but I’m not sure my family will ever get over the shock … until they spend time with you, of course. Then they’ll understand.”
“You don’t plan to tell them the truth?” Magnus asked, surprised. “I believed you. Why wouldn’t they?”
Gigi thought about his question. “Because mysterious things, unbelievable things like that just don’t seem to happen any more. My parents are lawyers. They rely on empirical evidence and science and think just about everything is figured out. I mean, take earthquakes, for instance. You used to say it was the gods causing it, but now we know it’s plate tectonics — and … whatever.”
“Are you implying the gods have nothing to do with your plate tectonics?”
Gigi opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again and smiled. “Point taken, but still, something big like traveling through time — they’ll think I’ve completely lost my mind.”
“They may already think it based on what you’ve told them so far, and in that case what have you got to lose?” Magnus grinned.
She whacked him playfully on the thigh. “Fine, I’ll tell them. Maybe speaking fluent Latin will help convince them, otherwise I don’t know.”
He gently fingered a strand of her hair. “It was love at first sight, you know, for me. You cast a spell from the very first moment.”
Gigi snuggled closer. “I recall being a little too terrified to think along those lines at that moment, but I knew I could trust you the minute we looked at each other.”
Magnus kissed her deeply, and a delicious heat coursed through her body. Pulling away slightly, she studied his wonderful face, his beautiful, blue eyes, as deep as the sea, and so full of love — all for her.
“I have something for you,” she said. “I’d forgotten about it until I was packing for the ferry.”
His brow furrowed, and he looked slightly worried. “Something for me?”
Gigi smiled and fished in her pocket, pulling forth his locket of rock crystal and gold. “You left this for me to find. I want you to have it back,” she whispered.
Magnus sat up slowly and took the locket, amazement written across his features. “It never occurred to me … I just threw it in the snow with a prayer to Victoria. I never thought I would see it again.”
Gigi reached up and helped him fasten it around his neck, then kissed him. “Let’s go below decks and celebrate its return,” she murmured.
He gazed at her, a flicker of amusement pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Not just yet, my sweet,” he said, putting his arms around her and leaning back. “Not just yet. It’s too beautiful out here, peaceful and … normal. Although it’s unfortunate these,” he waved his hand toward the path of contrails in the darkening sky, “jets mar the heavens as they pass. I don’t like them at all.”
He rested his head against the back of the seat. “Ah, here it is quiet. Aboard this boat, the world is as it should be. And you were right, that terrible day on the bluff at Rhegium — this Beneteau is truly a marvel, a wonderful sailing vessel. But I don’t know how you do it. I really don’t. The noise of your world, the rush — by the gods! — the speed of the ferry nearly stopped my heart. And those women on the beach today — baring their breasts in public — not that I minded looking — and men in Speedos, who’ve never held a weapon more lethal than a hot espresso, or a — what did you call it? — an iPhone?”
Gigi laughed at his odd tirade, wondering why he insisted on staying on deck, when she was so very ready to go below. “You’re making fun of your kinsmen,” she said. “And, by today’s standards, Italian and Greek men are plenty virile, believe me.”
“What about Jack?” Magnus went on. “I swear I knew him. He used to work as the master masseuse in the steambaths in Constantinople.”
She laughed. “He’s a good businessman and a good friend. He’s had to pull plenty of favors since we got back, to smooth things over with the police, and then get you some identity papers, not to mention keeping the world in the dark, all without doubting my story. I’m sure he thought I was crazy, but he asked a lot of questions and eventually seemed to accept my word. He was stunned to see the worn out shape my flute was in, especially the key pads, since it’d only been a day for him since I disappeared, and I always kept it in top condition. Then, when my old boyfriend Yves called to find out what was going on, Jack talked the poor guy in circles, so Yves still doesn’t know. He’s going to think I’m so horrible when he finds out I’m in love with you. That’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to!”
“I could run him through with my sword,” Magnus offered, nuzzling her neck.
“Don’t make fun of this. Yves and I were close before I left. From his point of view, I disappeared without a trace or a word of explanation, everyone was terrified with worry, and then I show up the next day, head-over-heels in love, and utterly without a decent excuse.”
“I know, but you will make Yves understand, somehow, although I wouldn’t chance telling anyone else but your parents the truth,” Magnus said. “As for Jack, I like him. He helped me with something before we left Ravenna, while you were out arranging for our passage to Greece.”
“What?” She looked at him, curious. “You spent time alone with Jack? What’d he help you with?”
“We snuck out of the hospital and went for a stroll, at my request,” Magnus replied evasively.
Sitting up, Gigi stared at him. “I can’t believe they let you out.”
“The healers would have none of it at first, but relented when I agreed to ride in a rolling chair. I thought it demeaning, but the thing proved useful, for I was spent long before we were done.”
“You’re a good liar. You acted like you’d never seen a wheelch
air before, when we left the hospital.”
He smiled. “Wandering around Ravenna was a terrifying experience, I can assure you, recognizing nothing, and trying not to show how traumatized I felt by everything I witnessed — it’s truly a wonder, this world of yours, wonderful and terrible all at once. At any rate, Jack and I spoke for some time, or rather, I gestured, drew several diagrams, and generally felt like an idiot, but eventually I got my point across, and he agreed to my wishes.”
“But … what wishes?”
Magnus glanced toward the heavens. “I find I don’t much care for traffic, but that is beside the point,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It has grown dark, and I am glad of it, for the world looks as it should now, with the Milky Way giving us the only light we need.”
“What wishes?” Gigi asked again, dying of curiosity.
“I borrowed what I’d guess is a rather large sum of money — Jack’s money — and I apologize for that,” he shifted uncomfortably, then smiled and looked frankly at Gigi, “but it seemed unlikely anyone would give me credit, based solely on my good name. No one seems to remember Quintus Pontius Flavus Magnus. In fact, from what I can tell, the only Romans well remembered in this time are Gaius Julius Caesar and Marcus Antonius. I must say, you live in a rather ignorant world — ”
“That’s fine! But what wishes?” she repeated in exasperation.
He laughed. “Well, it turns out I have something for you, too. You see, I thought,” he reached into his pocket and drew out a small, dark box, “I thought it might be nice to renew our vows when your parents get here. After all, you tell me it’s been sixteen hundred years since the last time we said them.”
A delicious chill of anticipation swept over her.
Opening the box, Magnus presented her with a very large ruby ring, encircled by sparkling diamonds. The ring beautifully reflected the radiance of the night sky.
“Will you marry me, Gigi? Again?”
“Oh, Magnus.” She held out a tremulous left hand, her third finger empty, so empty, since her struggle with Randegund. “Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you all over again.”
Magnus grinned and slipped it on her finger, then gazed at her. “I wanted to look for something like the old one, but apparently the museums are rather reluctant to sell Roman artifacts,” he kissed her, “and I think if they knew my true identity, they’d have me under glass before I could say a word in protest. As it is, they’re sure I’ve stolen the sword Athaulf gave me. Jack assured me he would take care of that mess, too. At any rate, he seemed pleased with my intentions and said you would approve.”
“It is beautiful and you are amazing and I love you dearly,” Gigi murmured, overwhelmed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “Can we please go downstairs now? We haven’t made love in hundreds of years, after all.”
“Granted,” he laughed, “but there is more. Jack has arranged for a ceremony on this beach at dusk tomorrow, and then a feast to follow, just your parents and us. We shall take our vows once more, beneath the starry sky.”
Gigi looked at him in wonder, then up at the heavens. It was so perfect. How had he known?
“You see,” Magnus whispered into her hair, “Jack took me somewhere else that day … to Placidia’s mausoleum, to see her ceiling, her beautiful legacy to the world. I think Placidia, being so very smart and a Christian, stayed well away from the infernal Styx and made her way up to the sky, to find her Heaven. And so, tomorrow, when we are wed, I know she will be looking down at us from above, blessing us with her love — and with everlasting happiness.”
Grand-père, too, Gigi thought, blinking back tears.
She gazed at Magnus, seeing destiny unfold in the depths of his wonderful eyes, at peace now and filled with happiness. The hurt she’d seen before was gone, as distant as the time they’d left behind.
“I will always love you,” she whispered.
“And I, you,” he took her face in his hands and kissed her, “my divine Gigiperrin.”
Authors’ Note
Galla Placidia could easily have been one of Shakespeare’s tragic heroines, her life shadowed as it was by misfortune and bitter loss. Yet she stands out as a figure of great humanity, coming down through the ages as a woman of keen intelligence and emotional resilience: occasionally girlish and rebellious, at other times fiercely passionate, a brave companion, and loyal wife.
Her relationship with Honorius does seem to have been challenging; her “abduction” by Athaulf after the sack of Rome shocking, their eventual union wholly understandable, given her looming future as the intended bride of the much older Constantius.
Some sources state Placidia was engaged to be married to Stilicho and Serena’s son, Eucherius, and we have deliberately ignored this for the sake of clarity in our work. Other contemporary historians — Hydatius, Marcellinus Comes, and Jordanes chief among them — record the barest details of the capture of Placidia by Athaulf during the sack, while giving various supposed marriage dates taking place after our date of A.D. 410; in other words, no one really knows what happened between them during and after the sack or when they actually consummated their relationship. For the purposes of our novel, we ask the reader to enjoy our literary license in this regard.
Additionally, two versions of the circumstances leading up to the sack of Rome were given by the historian Procopius of Caesaria, who wrote his history around A.D. 550. Again, for clarity’s sake, we have chosen to ignore his convoluted tale of young Visigoth males infiltrating Roman households as purported slaves, to await the appointed day and then rush the guards of the Salarian Gate, allowing their Visigoth brethren entry into Rome. Instead, we’ve woven our story around Procopius’s other version, which involved a Roman woman Proba, who had her domestics open the gates, although we’ve fictionalized this, seizing upon the darker side to a woman’s nature and giving Proba a reason for collusion with Sergeric, our traitorous Visigoth.
And the reasons for Placidia’s apparent complicity in Serena’s death have long been the subject of debate by historians. While her execution in Rome’s Coliseum is historically accurate, we believe our fictional solutions as to the “why” of Placidia’s actions reflect her overall character, giving the reader a clearer sense of what might have been.
As for Honorius, we trust we’ve captured his true character as well. Various historians describe him as debauched, lazy, incompetent, and without morals. He did love his chickens and guinea fowl, and did have them baptized. He also married both sisters, Maria and Thermantia, who were said to have remained virgins.
There are suggestions in some historical accounts that King Alaric’s burial in the Busentinus River is myth; however, there are many others who claim its veracity, and we have chosen to use their version of history. Like so many frustrated treasure hunters who have searched for the gravesite over the centuries, we find the account too delicious to ignore.
As with all historical fiction, our story is woven around major personalities and events, keeping as true to actual history as possible. To put a twist on an old saying — the rest, as they say, is fiction.
About the Authors
Two authors writing as one, Cary Morgan Frates and Deborah O’Neill Cordes, specialize in recreating pivotal moments in history, epic adventure and romance — with a time travel twist. This is the second novel in their Roman time travel series. They live with their families in the Pacific Northwest.
In the mood for more Crimson Romance?
Check out Immortal Love
by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban
at CrimsonRomance.com.
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