The last time he had entered the large villa, it had been furtively, scrambling up rocks and the low outer wall under the cover of darkness. Now he rode in openly, clad in his garb of office and leading his detail of
protectorii, denoting his importance in the new imperial order. Selenus could still admire the soft lines of the Lucullanum, which sat astride a small island off the Campanian coast. Not much had changed since that fateful visit years before, save a little wear and his own personal growth. But the land and the buildings were the same, as if nothing had truly happened. As if they had never made a mad dash to this place…as if an emperor had never been released from exile.
These thoughts preoccupied him so much, that he almost ignored the figure gliding down the steps perched next to the western residence, trailing two deferent servants in her wake. In spite of himself, he felt himself tighten as he recognized her lilting voice.
”My dear boy, you’ve back to visit me?”
There was a certain scratching in the tone now, a sign of advancing age, and it was this more than anything that helped him resist that lulling voice, cause of so much mischief. She couldn’t quite display herself to the same effect in the courtly robes to which she was accustomed. The right younger woman would have been enchanting in the green-sashed
tunica yet the Lady…it only made him pity her.
Mustering what politeness he could, he approached and bowed in greeting, moving his mouth in an adequate imitation of a smile.
”Milady Barbaria, it is good to see you well.”
Dismissing his words with a rueful glance, she put down the small myrtle she had been sniffing, letting it drift gently back to the tilled garden earth. Even turned away from him, however, she was hardly finished.
”A noble gesture, but I know how much you loathe me now. The usurper’s man, is it?”
Selenus flushed somewhat, but kept making small steps towards his ultimate destination, the wall and cliff top behind the manor.
”There’s little reason to bandy words, is there, milady? Fortune and you and yours’ deeds placed you back here. Mine is an inadequate witness.”
She laughed, yet it came off shrill, a sign he had struck unintentionally. Clearly the fall from power still smarted and she couldn’t resist this chance to lash out a little, now that he had seen fit to drift closer to her orbit. The more he observed her, the more he wondered how he had ever compromised himself so. Certainly, age had taken away much appeal, but Selenus marveled at how naïve he must have been, to fall so quickly. He had been naïve, he knew. But no more…
”If you’ll pardon me, milady, I have to disappoint you, for it is not you I wish to see…”
Barbaria grew pensive and silent, stopping now, as if some of her vigor had left. He could see the age more clearly now. Despite the comfortable exile, this was a woman sagging into decline, her webs and manipulations having exhausted her, particularly the final fall. Was she content to die here then? For she would, he knew, Remus’ mind clear on the matter. No Imperator with any wisdom would dare let out any relatives of the prior regime. They were prisoners, if loosely so.
To her credit, she didn’t follow him around the building to where the seaside wall sat right on top of the cliff face, not much use in protection, save for an accidental drop. The distance from top to rocky bottom could be measured in the hundreds of paces, where the waves smacking up against the shore would quickly swallow any remains. He could remember the nervous ascent years ago, trying to slip unseen into the villa for that fateful conference. The spray sometimes reached to the top in a cool mist whenever the tide came in hard enough. It was this that framed the scene with a certain shimmer. At the far western corner, where the walls intersected at a right angle, Selenus spotted his quarry.
It was an odd reversal now. How long had Selenus squirmed in this man’s grip, taunted, dangled him as a political pawn, to be used and spent as needed. He was rapidly going to seed, perhaps losing the will to exercise and maintain his form. It wasn’t so much that he was becoming pudgy as his skin was beginning to loosen on him, the muscle quickly evaporating. There were no attractive female courtiers to impress anymore, were there? Did Selenus pity the man even more than his mother? The man who had set him against his friends? Yet as Romulus turned to regard his approach, the haggard expression and bags under the eyes sapped what latent hostility he had mustered. This man had truly had it all, potentially half the world under his sway, and had gambled it away. That it was his own doing did not lessen the immensity of it.
”Ave, Selenus,” Romulus grumbled. Truly he had lost his will for confrontation, no longer carrying on the petty disputes they’d heard about, the demanding a certain imperial deference from their guards. Montmer, the commanding officer of the small garrison, wasn’t known for his patience. A few weeks in the less comfortable portion of the villa had quickly soured that conflict. And clearly it had taken some of the vitality from the exiled emperor.
”Come to gloat then?”
Selenus said nothing, still studying the man. It was intriguing how, though Romulus had clearly aged, his face would never catch up with his body’s maturity. It was as if part of him had frozen in that time, when Odoacer had first placed him here and then Remus had plucked him away. He would always be the lost boy. It showed in his expression, which came alive at last with a touch of petulance.
A seabird flew nearby, squawking its displeasure at their presence. Romulus looked up, a corner of his mouth curling.
”I can’t be too choosy in my company…Selenus.” It was as if the name itself was a hard thing to say, to admit that he was no longer a ruler, and this was not one of his subjects, with his titles. He looked broken.
”Little enough to do here, save gaze at the sea alongside my avian friends here…”
Selenus decided to delicately broach the subject. It wasn’t a social visit anyhow.
”Sad as it may seem, I do hope you haven’t done too much. One mustn’t overly tax oneself.”
The eyes flashed, and some of Romulus’ political acumen showed in his gaze, even if he didn’t turn away from the wall. By way of distraction, he pulled his woolen cloak tighter around him, weathered by days spent in the cool air.
”Are there are other friends around here than the birds?”
”The risky kind,” Selenus quietly said, trying to convey much without speaking. Tread lightly, his eyes were trying to say.
Romulus seemed not to notice.
”I am of little enough importance, just as it used to be. Your master was kind enough to slash my subsidy in half last month.”
”Provisioning a turma
of equites
here at the villa is a significant expense.”
”For my imprisonment?”
”For your protection.”
”And do I need protection?”
Selenus held back for a moment, trying to find the right wording. Part of him cared little for Romulus’ fate. He’d mangled enough lives to deserve too much consideration. Yet the politics of his survival were important enough, the outward impressions of mercy deemed vital enough to maintain.
”I believe that strongly with each passing day…Romulus.” The lack of titles said much about where both men now stood.
”You tire me quickly. What is it you want?”
”A friendly word, that’s all. Keep your conversations with your mother. And the birds…” He began to turn away, pacing back down the rock-strewn ground, having no wish to stay overnight in the same place as these exiles. They’d done enough to him.
”I must be off…mind what I said, Romulus. And mind your mother knows as well…”
”Selenus,” the exile said sharply. Something of his color returned, and Selenus wondered if the lack of energy was contrived.
”I cannot refrain from being who I am…”
Selenus nodded.
”Mind yourself, Romulus. I cannot either.”