by C J Brown
“Enough, Uther. Do you take me for a fool?”
Uther did, but this would not be the right time to reveal that truth.
“Sire, I am in your service. I implore you to put aside any hostility you think exists between us, and focus on the invading armies of the north. The tribes of Germania, especially the Huns, have a deep-seated hatred for us and our way of life. The tribes in the north, the Visigoths in the west, and the Ostrogoths in the east also harbor aspirations for that chair, sire,” he said, pointing to the throne. “As of yet, they have not formed an alliance, but they will soon come to the conclusion that an alliance would be the only way to bring down the banners of Rome from our walls. When they come upon that conclusion, two garrisons in the north will not be enough to hold them back.”
“Are you threatening me? Is that a veiled threat?”
Uther squinted his disapproval. Everything he had said was true. There was an alliance in the offing in the north. It was not a possibility, it was a certainty—only the timing of such an event was unclear. The emperor’s games were placing Rome in jeopardy and that was something that Uther could not understand or excuse.
Outside, without Uther’s knowledge, two hundred Praetorian Guards assembled. Looking over his shoulder, Lucius eyed Titus at the entrance of the chamber, thirty paces behind Uther. Titus gave the signal that the guards had assembled.
“I consider this to be a threat to the emperor. This is sedition,” Lucius barked.
A calm Uther said nothing at first, then lowered his voice for effect, then spoke.
“It is typically a tyrant who uses the whip of sedition to silence his perceived enemies.”
“You mock your emperor?”
“It is not mockery to speak the truth. Tyrants in history now, and I am certain, in the future, who do not have the legitimacy to govern or the mandate to rule, will use the charge of sedition as their reason for tyrannical acts.”
“I am the emperor,” Lucius barked once more. “You will give me the respect that that entails.”
“I do sire. I am not challenging your authority. In fact, all evidence points to the contrary. I am here to seek your permission to build the armies in the north so that the invading barbarians will have significant resistance when they mount an assault.”
“Or,” Lucius shouted, “you raise the army to storm Rome. And that is sedition.”
“It was never my intention, and never will be in the future. Rome is more than just marble and gravel. It is more than the people and the daily routine they engage in. Rome is an idea that extends beyond the life of any one man. I have sworn an oath to protect that, whether on the throne or on horseback.”
“So you do not deny you feel like that seat belongs to you?”
Uther paused. It was a trick question. He was well aware that others were within earshot of the conversation and that they would be used as evidence of his guilt. Uther had to be careful with what he said and how he said it.
“No, sire. I do not want that throne. But whoever shall sit upon it shall command my loyalty and obedience… up to a point.”
“Hah! So you admit there is a limit to your loyalty to the emperor.”
“No, sire. Only to those who are fools. If you are a fool, then you can rightfully claim that you do not have my loyalty. But if you are not a fool, you can be sure that my sword is yours to command and my breath, yours to take.”
Uther had placed him in a vice. To arrest him now meant conceding he was a fool, and whoever was behind him, Uther thought, would be witness to that. But even Uther had misjudged the limits to the emperor’s stupidity and the unbridled fear he had for the might and mind of Uther Pendragon.
“This is treason. Guards!” he called.
9
Interrogation
Arthur and seven men returned to the high point on the ridge. The bound and gagged Adolphus remained unconscious in the mud. Stripped of his fur, the cold had turned his pale naked body a blue tinge. He didn’t know it yet, but this was the first part of his interrogation.
Arthur watched from above as Krampus led his men around the blaze and to the garrison. It would not be long before the invading barbarians would arrive at the fortress’s gates. From the ridge, he gave the command to his men on horseback and on foot to begin the return to the fortress. They no longer needed to take the circuitous route back. They could all, the cavalry and the foot soldiers, return by the eastern path.
Adolphus’s horse meandered in the bush, not far from its master. Arthur pointed to it and the soldier immediately understood what needed to be done. He brought it over and Arthur commanded that the general be bent over his horse. In moments all of them were on the trail once more, in pursuit of their comrades that had gone before them.
***
At the garrison, Captain Albus, a soldier deeply loyal to Uther, held the fort. He and the one thousand men of Romulus Company hid in the underground catacombs of the fortress. Here they waited for the invading barbarians that were sure to strike. Five thousand barbarians against one thousand Romans. Any military strategist would have multiplied that number by three to account for the brutal nature of the barbarians. But Arthur was resolute. He knew that these one thousand men when hiding in the subterranean passages of the garrison would be able to vanquish the unsuspecting invaders.
Arriving at the garrison, Krampus stopped short of the twenty-foot walls. There was no activity on the battlements. No archers in the crenelations, and no soldiers on the parapets. Silence reigned over the front line of the barbarian forces. Krampus, not as smart as a Roman general nor as stupid as a barbarian soldier, figured that it was a trap. He just couldn’t figure out what the trap was supposed to do or how it would play out.
Disappointed with the turn of events he commanded the soldiers to raid the garrison for whatever may have been left behind. They piled in through the main entrance and filled the main yard of the Roman outpost. Everywhere they raided, they found food, clothes, coins, and other treasures they could plunder.
A trap had been set in the time the other two companies had ridden for the passes and now they waited. The fires of the night had gradually extinguished and they smoldered in the drizzle that had reached the garrison. None of the heavy rain that had pelted the leeward and backward side of the ridge had made it to the southeast corner of Verona’s countryside.
Deciding that they were not about to go empty-handed for their effort, he let his men loose to scavenge the rest of the empty garrison. Many of the dormitories were locked and bolted. A few were open, and in them, they found gold and valuables. The men centered their efforts around these buildings. All five thousand men had congregated in the center of the courtyard as the men in the catacombs waited for the opportune moment. Without the barbarians realizing it, the main gates were closed from the access in the subterranean vault. One by one the gates closed and locked much to the surprise of the Huns inside.
“Break these doors down!” Krampus shouted.
The men tried to ram the doors down but to no avail. These were heavy doors of iron and timber that mere fighting swords and axes were not able to put even a dent in. As they figured out what to do they heard the sound of galloping horses in the distance. More than two thousand horsemen at full gallop were no more than a hundred paces when the Huns first heard them. Behind them were another two thousand men in a rapid march. They would arrive later but with the manner in which the Huns were trapped, foot soldiers were not needed. Gradually, men from the catacombs began to appear on the parapets. Archers surrounded the walls of the courtyard and the walls that extended into the rest of the garrison.
The Huns had lost all advantage as the Romans had used the secret passages to get from the catacombs to the top of the walls. Krampus could see men filling the drains with oil and archers now stood in their place. Within minutes, fire reigned down on the helpless soldiers, as they were commanded to le
t loose all the arrows on every single Hun.
***
“You have no army left, Adolphus. All you have now is your life. Is your silence worth your life?” Arthur asked the bound man.
In an attempt to free himself, he jerked at his binds only to find that they had not been tied by an amateur.
“Let me go, Roman.”
“I think not. I think I will ransom you to your king. How much would I be able to fetch for you?”
The thought of being the bargaining chip for a ransom trade did not appeal to a man who had been driven by pride all his life.
“My king will pay nothing for me.”
“I think you are lying. He is not a stupid man. He knows loyalty when he sees it. He must surely see it in you. For that loyalty, I am certain he will pay.”
Adolphus could not explain to him that Attila never paid for hostages. And if he ever got them back, he always killed them as an example to the other men to not get captured. Adolphus was now stuck between being traded or being killed. In front of him were two giant Romans, eager to tear him from limb to limb.
“That is enough talk,” Arthur suddenly boomed. “I no longer have any patience for this.” His voiced bounced off the stone walls of the torture room. The room was built especially to extract information from enemy combatants. In it, there were all manner of tools that were used to torture the prisoner.
Turning to the giants at the end of the room, he nodded his head backward to signal his approval for the next action they were to take.
Without hesitation, the two men unbound Adolphus and secured his hands to ropes that came from holes in the wall on either side. Adolphus had no idea where those ropes led or what they were attached to beyond the wall. Once both the ropes were tied, the men tapped the wall until the ropes pulled his arms snug.
“What will you do? Crucify me?”
Arthur didn’t say a word. Crucifixion was a common Roman punishment, but this was not a punishment. However, Arthur did not feel like he needed to explain the intricacies of Roman crucifixion. He stood in front of Adolphus and stared him in the eye.
“I only have one question for you. If you answer that, I will set you free.”
Adolphus was starting to see that Arthur was not a man to be trifled with.
“What is your question, Roman?”
“That I cannot tell you.”
“If you don’t tell me how do I answer?”
“You have to guess. If you don’t guess the right question and proceed to answer it, then I am afraid this conversation will end.”
Arthur tapped the wall and Adolphus could feel the ropes pull from both sides and his arms stretched.
“When Alexander the Great was betrayed, or when he was lied to, he would strap a man to a pair of bent trees, tied his limbs to them and released the trees. Do you know what happened to the man?”
Adolphus could imagine. He too had studied the history of Alexander the Great. He knew what the Roman was talking about and he now guessed what his hands were tied to.”
“Tell me what you want to know. I will tell you.”
“Like I said. I only need one question answered. If you tell me that, I will let you go. You can run back to your kin or disappear into the forests, I don’t care. But if you don’t tell me, then you shall feel what traitors to Alexander felt.”
“King Attila will be here in three days. That’s what you want to know, yes?”
“I already know that,” Arthur said, lying to his prisoner’s face.
“He is at the head of ten thousand men.”
“I already know that too,” Arthur replied, feigning impatience.
This went on all night until everything Arthur needed to know had been answered by the Hun General.
“You have still not answered the one question I need and I am tired of this game. He looked one last time at the bewildered Hun and tapped the wall. This time the tap was four consecutive taps, and the rope eased back until Adolphus’s arms were able to fall to his sides. The rope loosened until he heard galloping horses. Two galloping horses. The rope remained on the ground but two horses had been dispatched, now riding at top speed. All of a sudden, the ropes snapped his arms off the sides and ripped it off his shoulders, much to the excruciating pain of the general who fell to the ground, free from his binds, dying soon after.
10
News From Rome
“My lord, a rider from Rome. He requests a moment of your time.”
Arthur raised his eyes to look at his valet announce the visitor. The fire in the hearth raged, in the room as Arthur sat planning his next steps.
“From my father?”
“Doesn’t seem to be.”
“Fine. Send him in.”
A man exhausted from swift passage appeared before the general. “My lord, I bring news.”
“How is the moon over Rome?”
The rider paused for a minute, remembering that all messages between Rome and Arthur carried a coded phrase. In the rush of the moment, he had forgotten. Recomposing himself, he took a deep breath and searched his memory.
“There’s no moon tonight, my lord, only stars and three clouds.”
“Proceed with the message, rider.”
“My lord,” the man said, straightening his composure to match the seriousness of the message he was about to deliver, “your father has been arrested by the emperor.”
“What news of my mother?” Arthur immediately questioned.
“Your mother is on her way north, but via a circuitous route that I am not privy to. She moved early yesterday morning before Lord Uther went to see the emperor.”
“What charges were brought against my father?”
“Sedition, my lord.”
“The coward is charging my father with sedition?” Arthur yelled. He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “What else?”
“When they couldn’t find your mother at home, they burnt it down and a legion of five thousand men were dispatched to take you into custody. If you do not come, they have orders to kill you.”
“When did they leave Rome?”
“They are not coming from Rome. They were dispatched from Ostia.”
Arthur pondered the developments.
Why now? he wondered. He had no way of answering that question with the accuracy it deserved.
“Where are they holding my father?”
“He is in Carcer Tullanium.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, my lord. Why?”
“If they have put him there, it means they do not plan to keep him alive for long. Is there any other news?”
“Not news, but a rumor.”
Arthur looked on with suspicion. The facts were already weighing heavily against him. Did he want to hear a rumor that might be a distraction?
“What is it?” he asked, the tone of his question giving the flavor of suspicion to his rider.
“My lord, forgive me. This is a rumor but I would not bring it up if it did not rise to the occasion of being important. A rider is also being dispatched to Genua.”
“To what end?”
“They plan to tell them that you and your father are traitors and they will be given the choice to pledge their allegiance to the emperor. Those who decline will be killed.”
That news complicated matters even more.
Arthur raised his eyes, looked at the rider, then reached into his side pocket and retrieved two gold coins. “For your trouble, rider. Spend the night, then ride to Ravenna. That will keep you out of the path of the legion that is on its way here. Avoid them at all costs, and stay out of Rome.”
“My lord, if I may.”
“Speak your mind, rider.”
“Let me come with you, my lord. I have nothing in Rome. I beg you, please let me come with y
ou.”
“Get some rest. I will leave word with the commander what I decide. My answer will be with him by the time you wake up.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Arthur returned to studying the maps. Everything he had planned now needed to be changed. Attila, the King of the Huns, was barreling across from the east at the head of ten thousand men, according to Adolphus. He would arrive in less than two days. But that was no longer the most important issue. Neither was the fact that five thousand Romans were ascending the peninsula en route to Verona.
The biggest issue now was Uther. If he didn’t get to his father in time, it would get harder to rescue him. Lucius’s plan was no big secret. He would have to kill Arthur first and disband the legion before he could kill Uther. If he missed that step and rushed to stick a dagger in the old general’s back, all hell would break loose and a civil war would ensue. Even Lucius was not that stupid to overlook that, Arthur thought.
“Vipsanius,” Arthur called out to his trusted captain and friend who was standing just beyond the walls of Arthur’s quarters.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Send twelve men to intercept the messenger that is headed to Genua. Then proceed to Genua and have the men take the coastal route down to Ostia. They should be there in a week. Have them wait there.”
“Yes, my lord. What about the rest of us?”
“We will move Germina Maxima by nightfall to Ravenna. The praetor is an ally of my father’s. He will join our fight. His triremes will be enough to move all our men to Ostia. With the tides the way they are now, it will take us seven days to get to Ostia, undetected.”
Vipsanius nodded. Arthur had thought the plan through. Lucius would never consider that both Uther’s armies would attack from Ostia. It would be the side of Rome—the one that faced the port city of Ostia—that he would leave unprotected.
By daybreak of the following morning, with a legion loyal to Lucius still at least five days away, Arthur began the arduous task of repositioning his men. He had stopped thinking of his father and what may have become of him. It was a distraction he could not afford. There was no room for error now. If he did not succeed, Uther would die. If he overplayed his hand, Uther would die. If he was too late, all his men would die. The peril was high, and Arthur was alone in making the decisions.
