Fic: Waiting for the Barbarian (part 2)

[alinewrites]

I am afraid that this is going to be longer than just one chapter...
Sex and power and Barbarians.



"This cannot be Rome," Agathos mumbled as they rode towards the Curia.

Marcus said nothing. This was Rome, indeed, and not. Rome, its temples, its basilicas, its forums, the triumphal arches. The old market on the bank of the Tiber. The luminous winter light sliding over the frosted roofs was peculiar to Rome; nowhere else could you see such transparency.

But the misery, more visible still in winter, the coldest one in fifty years, the ancients said, was new to Marcus. Not that it had not existed when he lived in the City fifteen years ago but at least famine had been unknown. Now, since the new administration had surrendered some of the richest parts of the empire, Rome lacked food and the old Alma Mater could not feed all those who came to her with empty hands. Marcus pulled aside to avoid a heavily loaded cart - vegetables, roots, what little winter would give. The man pushing the cart wore a rough hooded coat; his long hair was tied behind his neck in a heavy ginger plait. A frail little girl with big blue eyes and very long fair hair was sitting at the front of the cart. Germans, whatever tribe they belonged to. Marcus had seen more and more of those in town, and less Romans, or so it seemed.

"We shall not stay long," Marcus said. "Once I have delivered Zeno's message to the Senate, we'll ride North to Ravenna."

"I still don't understand why you agreed to this mission," Agathos said as they dismounted in the gardens of the Curia.

"I did not have much of a choice. Zeno was quite clear; unless I convert, I shall always be a stranger. This mission as you call it, is my only chance to gain an official status in Constantinople."

The clerk of the Curia had arrived to welcome them; he was an old bald man Marcus did not know. Before he followed him, leaving Agathos behind, he had time to hear his companion say, "I think I hate Constantinople more than any other place. I wish I did not have to go back to those decadent bastards."

Zeno's message was short and friendly; Marcus Aelius Saxa was welcomed under the old roof of the only remaining Roman institution. The Senators had many questions to ask; it would have taken days to answer them all. Some of these famous although useless men had been his friends once; now he barely remembered their names.

Marcus spent the day in the company of Secundus Aulus Practor. They had lunch in the dining room of his luxurious villa in Ostia by the sea, a wonderful place where Marcus had spent some of the happiest moments of his life. He was sixteen then and quite sure that he would never love anyone else than the now bald and podgy Secundus. How far life takes us from those we love, he thought, and how transient our affections are. From him he learned a lot about the state of Italy and the man who ruled it.

"Odovacar proved to be quite different from his frightening reputation. Moderate, a friend of the Senate, a protector of the new faith... He is rather popular here."

Surprising as they were, Marcus believed Secundus' words. Odovacar had been a general in the Roman army for years; he thought himself partly Roman and his goal was not to destroy the Roman Empire; his ambitions were not that great. He had only wanted to take a vacant place and satisfy his personal ambition while ensuring the survival of a civilisation that was partly his.

"Rome is still Rome, after all," Secundus said. Was he blind? Were those men, senators, clerks, all blind or so far from the reality surrounding them? Did they not see that their world had ended, that there was nothing left of the old Empire? Or did they choose to ignore a what might upset them as long as it left their own comfort unaffected? He did not tell Secundus that; the Senator had welcomed him, although he had obviously forgotten all about Marcus' childish passion.

Marcus left early to get on the road to Ravenna as soon as possible. "It would have been so much easier to sail there directly from Constantinople, avoid such a long and risky road in the middle of winter…" Agathos said while saddling the horses.

"I know that but Zeno wanted the Senate to be our fist halt. We'll sail back from Ravenna to Constantinople anyway."

"If we ever sail back," Agathos said.

It took them longer than expected to reach the capital of Italy where Odovacar had settled like those before him. Marcus and Agathos rode from dawn to sunset despite the snow and a strong northern wind, blessing the fur coats they had bought. They changed horses every day and slept in various inns like ordinary travellers. In the late afternoon of the fifth day, exhausted and frozen, they reached Ravenna. The dark snowy day was slowly turning into an early winter night, colder still than the day, when they were ushered into the hall of Odovacar's palace. After for five years, the German had come back to Ravenna. Rome had been abandoned like an ageing courtesan; his presence there was no longer needed. Odovacar had made his peace with Zeno who had granted him the freedom to rule Italy as he pleased; the Senate was Odovacar's puppet. Besides, his most recent raids on the furthest borders of his kingdom had eliminated most of the opposition to his government. At last, no matter what, Odovacar felt more at home in Ravenna than in Rome.

To Marcus Ravenna felt nothing like home. The palace was dark, poorly lit and very cold. The low vaulted roof of the huge room where Odovacar had his headquarters was supported by two rows of massive pillars. The mosaic floor was covered in carpets of all sorts - elaborated oriental patterns, raw bearskins, plaited northern mats. The flaming torches hanging from the walls and the pillars dispensed a warm golden light and too much smoke. On a throne covered with pelts Odovacar sat, watching Zeno's emissary with undisguised surprise. An alarmed silence fell over the room. Marcus Aelius had shed his coat. Under it he wore Roman travel clothes and supple leather boots. He was pale with exhaustion, his thick dark hair curling with the snow that had managed to pierce through the hood. Near him stood Agathos, tall and white haired, his hand on the pommel of his sword, running his eyes over every face, was it Roman or Barbarian, with the same wary expression.

Odovacar straightened up and waited.

"I am Marcus Aelius Saxa, Emperor Zeno's emissary."

Odovacar nodded. "I was expecting an ambassador," he said, and Marcus heard what was not said. I had no idea it would be you. When the ruler of Italy rose from his seat, Marcus saw that he had thickened a bit, and aged. His hair was streaked with grey, his beard was paler, and years of trouble had washed out the blue of his eyes. Still he was as strong and impressive as Marcus remembered. He wore a greatcoat over his clothes. One of the tail he threw over his shoulder, showing his muscled arms and Marcus shivered. He should not have accepted this mission, Agathos had been right, but it was much too late to turn away now.

"Welcome to Ravenna, Marcus Aelius Saxa," Odovacar said, one of his hand landing heavily on Marcus' shoulder. A murmur of approbation ran across the room. Turning to Agathos, Odovacar said, "I see that you brought your escort with you."

Agathos did not even move a muscle, holding Odovacar's cold gaze with one of his own.

"Now you must be tired. Someone is going to show you to your rooms."

Marcus did not have a clear remembrance of the next moments - a long cold corridor and a heavy door behind which was a wide room - his room. Agathos' one was a little further. Marcus was treated to a hot invigorating relaxing bath, the ceremony not as refined as what it was in Constantinople where every single moment of the domestic life reached an incomparable degree of perfection. His clothes were dry when he put them back on. There was food on the table, and wine. It was late already when he was summoned to Odovacar's office.

The lamps there were of better quality than the torches that had filled the audience room with smoke. Braziers provided a much needed warmth. Odovacar's desk was littered with maps, books, letters. The mess looked familiar from another time, another place. There was a bunk in a corner, thick cushions and woollen blankets; probably Odovacar slept on it quite frequently. In a corner of the room near the window was the statue of Phaeton that had decorated Marcus' bedroom in Felsina's villa.

"This, if I remember correctly, belongs to me," Marcus said, accepting a goblet of warm spiced wine.

"It was a disappointment to find you gone," Odovacar said. "This is a compensation."

Marcus did not dare ask what the Barbarian had done with the house.

"I burnt it," Odovacar said quietly, answering Marcus' thoughts. "I burnt it down to the ground..."

Marcus closed his eyes and tightened his grip around the goblet.

"...But I heard that some former slaves of yours still live in the ruins."

Marcus swallowed the wine to drown his sorrow.

"So how is Constantinople?" Odovacar asked, "Did you go as far as adopting their doctrine? Jesus Christ as a divine being?"

Marcus sighed. The quarrels among the Christian community seemed to go on endlessly. "I shall be the last one, I suppose, to believe in the old gods of Rome," he said. "Even you are a Christian, although Constantinople considers you heretical."

Odovacar was silent, staring at Marcus' face in the light of the lamp. "Still, it is you Zeno sent. He must trust you somehow."

He trusts my intelligence and my moderation and my curiosity and all religious difference put aside I suppose what he sees in me is a peer. "He does."

"You will not run out on him like you did on me."

Marcus shrugged impatiently. "I tried to stay alive. You did not have that good a reputation then."

Odovacar came closer, unsmiling, his eyes still fixed on Marcus. "And now? What sort of reputation do I have?"

"Intriguing."

The Barbarian's eyes narrowed. "Intriguing? Is it how they see me in Constantinople?"

That and more. Illiterate, although they might be wrong about hit, and violent, and deceitful... Dangerous.

Marcus saw the narrow smile on Odovacar's lips. "I see," he said, and grabbing him by the hair, pulled Zeno's ambassador closer and kissed him.

*************************
Two days later at the dawn of a cold dark day Marcus was sitting at the small desk in a recess of his room, as near as possible from the brazier, his hands frozen, writing his daily account of the latest events, a journal of a sort mainly maint for Zeno. The emperor wanted to know more about Odovacar and his court; he wished to gather as much information as possible. It was clear to Marcus that Zeno wanted to be able to assess a potential danger so he was trying to be as objective as possible, praying that no rumour of his promiscuity with the Barbarian king of Italy would not reach the Emperor. Although, he thought, and wrote, King of Italy was not a title Odovacar ever used. He was satisfied with his accession to the status of Patrician and only considered himself as the chief of an heterogeneous coalition that he tried to keep as united as possible, using both fear, generosity, slyness, and intuition. When nothing worked, Marcus explained, Odovacar resorted to sheer cruelty, which probably was the basic rules of his so-called civilisation. He had no idea of detaching Italy from the Empire. His position was to continue as before.

Immersed in his writing Marcus did not hear the door open. Only when a strong hand pulled his head back and warm hard lips met his did he realize he was being caught. The kiss ended and Odovacar started to read.

"They really think I can't read, don't they?" he asked, amused. "I don't care what you write to Zeno. I have no illusion about him but he is too much of a lazy coward to sail here and start something against me."

Marcus put down his quill and stood up to face his visitor. "Do not be so confident, Odovacar."

The Barbarian laughed. "Why didn't he try to defend Julius Nepos, then?"

There were obvious answers to this, Marcus thought. Odovacar's lack of imagination and foresight was probably his worst flaw - he had written that at the top of the page but the Prince of Ravenna did not seem interested in reading any further.

"Let's have sex," Odovacar said. "I left Sunigilda's arms to come here and enjoy more of my Roman Pagan lover."

Marcus laughed. Odovacar was about ten years older older than him, probably, something he had never thought about before. He closed his eyes and allowed his lover to pull off the coat, the tunic and the breeches he had been wearing against the cold, drag him to a wide chair. The cold was sizzling but the body against his was warm and hard.

"So did you not write I was unimaginative?" Odovacar growled against his ear, moving against him in the slow rhythm that heralded of the madness to come.

"The remark did not include... No please, don't... yes, yes, again... did not include sex."

Odovacar laughed and pulled an unresisting Marcus on his lap. "Come on. Show me," he said, burying his head in the crook of Marcus' neck while pulling him down on his erect cock. "Show me how much you want me."

Once impaled on his lover's warm hard flesh, filled with it, Marcus had to catch back his breath to stop trembling. Something about this was thrilling and scary, far from anything Marcus had expected about his life. It was also the best sex he had ever experienced and he doubted anything could beat this.

"Move," Odovacar said, biting at the skin of his neck, his hands guiding Marcus' hips up, and down and again until Marcus had picked up the rhythm that suited them both and Odovacar could lean back against the draperies that covered the chair, his hands still on Marcus' hips, his own body moving to meet every move, harder and harder until he could not take it any more. Heaving himself up he stood up, impaling Marcus deeper and carried him to the bed where he lay him, letting go of his prey for a short time before taking him again... When it was over, they lay entangled for a time, Odovacar's hand caressing Marcus' dark hair, his fair skin.

"Unimaginative?" he said playfully.

"I already said the remark did not extend to the sex."

Odovacar lay silent a couple of minutes longer, probably enjoying a rare moment of peace. Then he rose from the mattress and started dressing again. "You cannot leave tomorrow as you thought. The weather is awful. There will be no ship for at least ten days."

Later that day, as the snow kept piling up over the town and the mountains above, Cassius Livius Amenacius paid Zeno's ambassador a visit. Cassius Livius was one of those Romans who had joined Odovacar a long time ago and fought by his side when the Barbarian was still a general in the Roman army. Brothers in arms, although Cassius Livius was the last son of an old famous Roman family, educated and smart. He sat in front of Marcus who was reading in the dim light of the afternoon, near the window.

"Did someone try to strangle you?" Cassius Livius asked, serious and vaguely worried, pointing at the bruises on Marcus' neck.

"No," Marcus said, cursing a reprehensible lack of cautiousness.

"I see," Cassius Livius said, nodding. What he actually saw remained unsaid. "Listen, you are here on Zeno's behalf and thus I do not trust you but you look like a decent man."

Marcus nodded courteously. Cassius Livius was famous in Italy for his moderation and his wisdom, someone who sought no honour for himself, working only for the common good. He was a friend of the current pope Simplicius and both of them had managed in the past to keep Odovacar from some very reckless actions or foolish decisions.

"Odovacar is no threat to Zeno," Cassius said. "He will not seek to conquer more land or obtain more riches. He is... satisfied with what he has, which probably exceeds what he could dream of."

So Marcus was not the only one to think Odovacar lacks imagination. He nodded. "I understood that," he said.

"Good. But if Zeno decides to start a conflict, if he tries to overpower him, Odovacar will prove himself a very fierce enemy - worse than Constantinople can imagine. I do not doubt that a war would lead to more deaths and miseries on both sides. War would be a disaster for both our nations."

"I am no confident of the emperor Zeno but what I heard, what he told me, as well as his own nature, makes me certain that he wants only peace. His own empire is enough of a challenge to run. He has no desire to extend it."

The discussion with Cassius reinforced Marcus' certainty that Odovacar would indeed start no fight against Zeno. It would be peace, at last. He told Cassius how relieved he felt.

Before Cassius left he still said, "It is not Zeno I mistrust. Theodoric the Goth is the one I fear will seek to destroy the peace."

Marcus had met Theodoric, whose relations with Zeno had been chaotic for a long time until the emperor granted him the enviable unofficial status of viceroy of the Eastern Roman Empire. Since then though, Theodoric seemed to have acquired a strong taste for the Byzantine life and forgotten about his people and his former ambitions.

It took three weeks before Marcus could leave Ravenna - Odovacar was reluctant to let him go, that much was obvious. Agathos himself liked Ravenna, which offered a refreshing contrast with the languid luxury of Constantinople. The Barbarians did not care about his low origins and the girls in Ravenna seemed to like the old man quite a lot. Marcus for his part was not certain how he felt about going back to Constantinople where life was certainly easier and sweeter, if no less dangerous.

They reached Constantinople in the early spring and Marcus Aelius was summoned to Zeno to give a precise and detailed account of his visit, his stay and his conversations with Odovacar for whom Zeno seemed to harbour mixed feelings. It seemed to Marcus that Zeno's dislike for the Barbarian was stronger than before and he suspected an external influence. But his reassurance that Odovacar, unprovoked, was no threat, seemed to convince Zeno. "Good work, Marcus Aelius. I shall remember it."

"You like the Barbarian," Antonius said with a smile, later.

"Well he did not kill me," Marcus said with a smile. "I had a comfortable room, he took me hunting several times. He is rather peaceful, in a Barbarian sort of way."

Two weeks later as he was walking along the dark corridors of the palace towards Antonius' office, Marcus found a man barring his way. "Isn't this the fearless Marcus Aelius Saxa, back from his dangerous embassy in Ravenna? Odovacar did not devour you, then?"

The biting irony in Theodoric's voice, the disdain in his eyes, annoyed Marcus who stiffened, looking the man deep in the eyes. "One gets used to Barbarians in the end," he said, shrugging.

Theodoric smiled, looking very much like he was going to bite. Remembering Cassius Livius' words, Marcus shivered.

"Yes, I guess you do. So. How is Odovacar in bed?"

Marcus was on him before Theodoric could react - their brief fight left them breathless and bruised. Theodoric might be a general of the army but Marcus was nimble and in good shape.

"How can you not see?" Theodoric asked him, panting, a hand against the wall to support himself. "Odovacar is a narrow-minded looser. He has no ambition, no plan for the future. No real prospect."

Marcus looked at him. So Theodoric was the one who had influenced Zeno. "Why do you care? Why tell me this? I am of no importance," he said.

"Soon I shall need valuable men by my side; not only the ones who live here, lazy and fearful, softened by too much luxury. A man like you should choose the right side. I can give you what Odovacar offers, and much more."

Theodoric was tall, strong and about Marcus' age, maybe a little older. He had eyes the colour of the raging sea and thick blond hair; there was a peculiar beauty about him. In some ways he was much more like Odovacar than Zeno ever would.

"Are you not curious to know how I learned about Odovacar and you?" Theodoric still asked.

"No. I feel no curiosity of that sort. I am not interested by intrigues and ambitions. My stay at Odovacar's court was boring enough. I had to find some distraction."

The Goth took a cautious step forward. "Aren't you bored here too? What if I provided some... distraction?"

Marcus stood very still. He could not resort to violence again and besides, he had no reason to do so. If Theodoric was as influential as it seemed, it would not do to alienate him, especially since Marcus had no idea what the future would be.

Blushing, he bowed humbly. "I am flattered, King Theodoric," he said softly, hoping he looked sincere enough, "but I have to decline the offer. Although I did take some pleasure in Odovacar's company, I am not sexually interested in men."

Theodoric was silent for a moment. Had he genuinely hoped that Marcus would agree? It seemed quite improbable. "Well," he said, "it would have been a pleasant experience for the two of us," he said pleasantly, "but I shall not insist." On that he left.

Marcus saw Theodoric again, more than once. They talked; Marcus was good at telling stories, he had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue. Theodoric laughed and told some tales of his own. More important he talked about his own view of the future and Marcus was quick to understand that the man he was facing was different from any other he had met. He had what Odovacar lacked. Imagination, ambition and the strong desire to become the successor of the Roman emperors who had ruled the world only a century ago. He also possessed the iron will and the brutal determination of a conqueror. He was smart and very wise; he talked about philosophy and religion and that sort of courtship was the one Marcus craved. At the end of a banquet washed with plenty of wine Marcus followed Theodoric to his house and spent some very delicious hours in his bed. His behaviour reminded Marcus more of the Roman partners of his youth than anything else - what Theodoric knew about sex he had learned here in Constantinople where it was considered an art in itself. Dawn found him sated, dizzy with pleasure and quite convinced of Theodoric's value.

During the days that followed Marcus tried to assess his chances. Theodoric's company was the certainty of a brilliant future if it lasted but the Goth was cunning as much as clever. If someone arose whose qualities surpassed Marcus', Theodoric would discard him without a single blink. Being discarded by Theodoric was not a pretty prospect. Friendship did not mean much to him - an impressive number of corpses lay in Theodoric's trail, too many to Marcus' taste. Of course Odovacar was no better.

In the middle of June Marcus Aelius Saxa, having made his choice, warned Agathos of his imminent departure. Always to be trusted, Agathos did not hesitate. They boarded a ship for Italy in the middle of the night. Marcus had left to Antonius a message - the life in Constantinople was not meant for him; he felt more freedom in Italy where he still had a home. He did not expect to be forgiven or understood.

"Why choose Odovacar over Theodoric?" Agathos asked, stunned but rather happy to leave.

Marcus had no logical explanation. The link between Odovacar and himself was just too strong to be broken - Marcus could not forget him.

Agathos shrugged and harrumphed. "Next you will tell me you are in love with him like some romantic wench," he said. "I hope you are making the right choice."

Marcus was quite certain of the contrary but this time at least he would stay true to himself.