The Emperor's Men 3: Passage
Page 26
Valens found a very attentive listener in Malobaudes who didn’t interrupt him even once. After about a quarter of an hour, he had given him a rough summary and looked at him expectantly.
“So you don’t want your title back?” the General made sure. He didn’t seem to believe it.
Valens leaned forward. “I know that you serve Gratian faithfully, and my sudden resurgence is a matter of great concern to you. No, I won’t harm my nephew and give him no trouble. I’ve already caused more than enough problems with my stubbornness. If he thinks I can best serve the Empire by retiring, perhaps to a nice estate somewhere in the country, I will do so. He won’t hear a word from me.”
Malobaudes didn’t show whether these words convinced him or made him feel easy. He barely nodded.
“But before that happens,” Valens continued, “I must warn him and all who are with him. The fact that I’m still alive depends not least on a conspiracy that builds up against Gratian. I had the role of giving legitimacy to a usurper! I was supposed to make Maximus the emperor, and thereby to justify a revolt.” Valens’s voice sounded haunting. “The preparations of the enemy have gone a long way, my friend. And the Comes has help from an unexpected side: A high-ranking time-traveler is on his side. I could discern this from a conversation in my presence. Near London, they run a large manufactory and workshop, where they experiment with firearms. They want to build something they call a cannon. In any case, Gratian must be prepared for a potentially large-scale and well-organized uprising. He must be warned, Malobaudes! Immediately Maximus must be deposed of, the conspiracy has to be crushed! Every day that is lost increases the danger!”
In the end, Valens’s voice had almost begging. Malobaudes had listened to the lecture with a stony face. He shook his head as Valens had finished, as if a heavy grief or disappointment were oppressing him. “You really want to help Gratian,” he said in a low voice. “You want your nephew to succeed with what he’s doing and you don’t want to be a burden for him. I understand that now. He can be lucky to have an uncle like you, Valens.”
Valens raised his hands. “My time is over, Malobaudes, whether I appreciate it or not. My last service after the disaster of Adrianople can only be to remedy some of the damage. To stop the conspiracy of Maximus would perhaps rekindle the gaze of history on my life’s work. Let me go to Treveri, or wherever Gratian may be staying. I will prostrate myself before him, give him all the information, reveal every detail that has come to my attention.” Valens glanced at Belucius. “My old friend here, of course, is included. He helped me a lot and served me better than I deserved.”
The old legionary nodded, but said nothing.
“Who else is with Maximus?”
Valens shrug. “I have no detailed information. I only know what has been expressed in my presence, probably in the opinion that I’m not fully in command of my senses, and wouldn’t even understand what was said.” He paused and smiled. “Of course this was not even a completely false assessment. But I don’t know much more. I think Maximus has allies on the mainland, some Germanic tribes. And there is Ambrosius, the Bishop of Milan.”
The General looked at Belucius for a moment, as if to measure the magnitude of his service by mere gazing, then he nodded heavily. “An important piece of information, indeed. Gratian has allies in a completely unpredictable position. I’m amazed of what has become of the boy. He manages to miraculously create loyalty among the strangest men. Even in you, his unruly uncle.” With the last sentence he had turned to Valens again.
“As I said, General, that’s the past. How can you take me to Treveri without the conspirators getting any notion of it? I can leave tonight if it has to be I will not stay longer than necessary.”
Malobaudes looked for a moment as if to think about a suitable answer, but then he sighed deeply. “It won’t be possible.”
Valens suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling. He looked at Malobaudes without understanding. “What does that mean? Is the situation too dangerous? Do we still have to wait?”
Malobaudes looked at him sadly, then rose slowly. There was a sword in his hand. “No, Valens, it’s not.”
The former Emperor stared at the blade. When the other four men who had dispersed in the room were also pulling their weapons, understanding grew in the face of Valens, and he suddenly looked very, very old. “Ah … ah … Malobaudes … the faithful general,” he murmured softly to himself.
“Yes, I am,” the man replied. “I am faithful. But not to an emperor who wants to open a new era for the Empire that challenges our values and traditions, but to the idea that the Empire has grown so great for good reason, and that any shock to its foundation is much more likely to cause its downfall than any barbarians.”
“So you’re on the side of Maximus,” Valens said silently. He sat, squeezed together, had apparently lost all hope. And yet his hand had been placed round the sword, a weapon which he had received from Belucius. At least two of the men watched him suspiciously.
“I’m on the side of the Empire,” Malobaudes corrected. “And I had expected exactly the same from the Emperor of the East.”
“Ex-Emperor,” Valens insisted. “And I didn’t get the impression that it was Maximus’s intention to put me back in office. It seemed to me that he had taken the plan of becoming emperor of all of Rome. Or am I wrong?”
Malobaudes pressed his lips on each other for a moment. Then he made a wiping hand movement. “This is no longer worth discussing. You’ve definitely decided for yourself. You have also become a traitor to the ideals of Rome, just like your nephew. If Valentinian had learned of all this …”
“My brother would have cut your throat,” Valens growled. An astonishing transformation took place with the collapsed figure. One moment crouched on the chair, hopeless, surrendered, the body of Valens suddenly rose. In the right hand of the former emperor the blade flashed openly, and he pushed it toward the General’s belly.
The man staggered back, repulsed the blow with the movement of an experienced warrior. The blade drove into his raised forearm, blood shot out as it opened the skin. There was no grief passing the General’s lips, and with deadly calm he lowered his sword into Valens’ chest. He made a gurgle, sagged as sudden as he had jumped up. Belucius, as if struck by thunder, saw how life had left him, now finally and forever.
And so it ended.
The old legionary, who saw his master die, uttered an unarticulated cry. With an agility that wouldn’t have been expected of the fat colossus, he tore his sword from the wall and attacked Malobaudes. Two of his guards stood in the way of the angry man.
Belucius fought like a bull. One of his opponents sank to the ground. The former bodyguard of Valens also suffered deep wounds. He bled, his mighty torso dipped in shining red. But to reach the vital organs through the fat masses was a difficult task for a short sword, and the old legionary fought with the power of a wounded beast of prey. Again and again he struck the remaining guard, while Malobaudes exited through the door.
“Die!” Belucius shouted, as he stabbed his second opponent like a pig. One of the other men, who had bent over the corpse of the Valens to convince himself of his death, turned around in alarm and stared at Belucius, who approached like a berserker. The fourth guard finally entered the battle.
The fat man bled, had bled just too much. No part of his body seemed to be dry, and he had wiped his bloody hands over his sweaty face, so that he looked like a monster.
His opponent found the old legionary’s gaze, saw the tiredness, much pain, the dwindling energy, and the barely visible nod, as if the man knew that his end was now near.
There was a cry, a heavy impact, a triumphant exclamation of the victor. Then sudden, deafening silence.
The old legionary had followed his master.
Outside, hidden by the darkness, a young Goth, escaping the turmoil, heard more than he saw. He listened to scream
s and the noise of the battle, involuntarily clutching the handle of his sword. He didn’t know what was going on there since he left the premises, but it smelled of betrayal and it smelled of futility. Even if he were to turn back now and take up the fight, the enemy was too strong. Men left the building as silence returned, visible only as shadows. Whoever Belucius had contacted in the city – it must have been a traitor, a man of Maximus. The infection of usurpation had advanced further than he and Valens had suspected, and there was no doubt that the former Emperor of the East had lost his life.
Then two torches flew to the roof of the house. It immediately caught fire. In the adjoining homesteads, there were shouts. Torches and lamps were ignited. But then the assassins had already swung themselves on the backs of their horses and had ridden away.
Godegisel didn’t want to be suspected of being the arsonist. He retreated across the fields, hid behind bushes, and waded through the muck until he had gained enough distance between himself and the house, which caught fire with a vengeance. Then he paused, staring at the flickering flames and realized that he was mourning for Valens.
And he mourned because his work had not yet been done.
With a last glance at the crackling fire, Godegisel turned away and set off.
– To be continued –
Register of persons
Aurelius Africanus Roman Trierarch
Ambrose of Milan Roman Bishop
Andragathius Roman General
Arbogast Roman General
Aurelia a slave girl
Peter Behrens Infantryman
Belucius former Roman legionary
Bertius Roman legionary
Claudia a slave girl
Johann Dahms Chief Engineer of the Saarbrücken
Dionos Alexandrian scholar
Erminius King of the Quadi
Karl Forstmann Engineer of the Valentinian
Fritigern leader of the Goths
Godegisel Gothic nobleman
Flavius Gratianus Roman Emperor
Dietrich Joergensen Officer of the Saarbrücken
Josaphat Alexandrian street boy
Jovius Roman Decurion
Julia Daughter of Marcus Gaius Michellus
Harald Köhler NCO of the Saarbrücken
Klaus Langenhagen Officer of the Saarbrücken
Levantus Roman Centurion
Lucia Wife of Marcus Gaius Michellus
Malobaudes Roman General
Marcellus Crew member of the Saarbrücken
Caius Martinus son of a Roman businessman
Magnus Maximus Governor of Britain
Marcus Gaius Michellus Roman senator
Marcus Necius Roman fisherman
Dr. Hans Neumann Physician of the Saarbrücken
Marcus Flovius Renna Roman military prefect
Jan Rheinberg Captain of the Saarbrücken
Richomer Roman officer
Septimus Secundus Roman NCO
Sepidus Crewman of the Valentinian
Lucius Tellus Severus Roman General in Retirement
Quintus Aurelius Symmachus Roman senator
Markus Tennberg Ensign of the Saarbrücken
Theodosius Roman aristocrat
Valens Roman Emperor
Thomas Volkert Ensign of the Saarbrücken
Klaus von Geeren infantry officer and deputy company commander
Johann Freiherr von Klasewitz First Officer of the Saarbrücken
Hannes Weinkamp crewman of the Valentinian