The Eagles of Avalon

The silence seemed to stretch as the young Romulus’ eyes seemed to bore into Remus’. Selenus remained prostrated on the floor while Markus slowly returned to a standing position. No one spoke and suddenly the moment was reduced to only the pair of them, Romulus and Remus. Surely neither would miss the symbolism once they had recovered from the initial shock. Remus could see the young man’s shoulders tighten and the expectations were clear. Yet he could not commit himself so readily. He had seen two former holders of imperial power swept away by events. How foolish would it be to naively tie himself to a third? Yet was this not what his goal was all about? Here was the last surviving western emperor. Young or not, inexperienced or not, wary or not, there was no other choice. Yes? He asked himself this question and rocked slightly on his heels, unsure of how to respond. Still no one spoke. He could see Markus’ eyebrows rise, the question forming in the eyes and the harangue approaching. This, more than anything, pushed him into action at last.

He clicked his heels and bowed politely. It was a perfect imitation of his greeting for Julius Nepos, back in Aquileia when more things seemed possible. Romulus hesitated a few moments before relaxing his posture, Remus’ gesture passable if not what he had hoped for. He bobbed his head in perfunctory acknowledgment and seemed to look past Remus, towards the room where an eques blocked the doorway.

”The guards are dead.” It was a statement of fact, not a question, and Remus first became aware of the high pitch of the voice, more familiar in a forum than a camp. This was clearly someone with training in rhetoric. The Latin was perfectly accented and certainly, whatever his failings might be, a lack of education was not one of them.

”Yes.” He was still unsure of what form of address to use.

Romulus continued to look past him. ”You killed them.”

Nodding slightly, Remus replied, ”Ita vero.” In truth.

As if releasing a buildup of tension, Romulus exhaled visibly and took this in, his eyes now sweeping over Markus and Selenus. At the sight of the young lad, still pinned to the floor, his eyes twinkled briefly. ”You may rise.” It was apparent, however, that he was still on guard against his unexpected visitors.

Selenus stood slowly, his skin pale and demeanor nervous. His eyes flickered briefly to Romulus’ and then darted downward as he became aware of what he was doing. To look upon an emperor directly was to court death, he recalled from his readings. At least this had been so in the days when the emperors had power.

The room around them possessed such immensity that the ceiling could scarcely be seen in the dim lighting around them. The wall torches cast tall vaulting shadows that presided over vast stone flooring. Assorted greenery and the occasional marble bust were placed at random, as if the builders had an aversion to empty space. Behind Romulus, in the distance, one could make out the edge of the enclosed bedding, where, Remus thought, an entire century might sleep comfortably. He wondered vaguely if this room was a feature from Republican times or encompassed Augustulus’ conception of architecture. If so, it was grandiosity taken a little too far for his simpler tastes.

”What is to become of me then?” Romulus asked. ”Has Odoacer finished with me?” From the brief confusion in Remus’ eyes, Romulus guessed the answer. Now he frowned with curiosity and a touch of suspicion. ”Then what are you? Brigands? Vandals?” Considering his guests’ attire, he amended himself. ”Perhaps not. Why do you seek me out? I have little means beyond the allotment. If you’re after gold, you shall find it in Ravenna for I have none.” His eyes tightened. ”Why did they have to die?” He spoke with an unexpected composure and Remus realized this must have been borne of his brief reign. Surrounded by ambitious adults and the pressures of courtly life, he might been expected to fail, to wither and buckle under the strain. That he had survived at all was perhaps due to some inner strength as much as his youth. It would be needed when the time comes, Remus decided.

”An unfortunate necessity, imperator,” he said, settling on a safe honorific. ”Access to your person was paramount, above even the lives of your men who sought to block our passage.” It was blunt and it was precisely the tone he wished to strike with Romulus from the beginning. As he had expected, the words visibly registered on the young man’s face, his head tilting to the right as if warding off a blow.

”I..I…s-see. But d-did…” and Romulus trailed off, some of his youth at last penetrating the screen of maturity he had placed over himself. He was barely seventeen, Remus recalled. This was far too young by all accounts and yet he was quite possibly all there was left. Indeed, Augustulus had once been factored and dismissed by Remus until the Senator had smoothly reminded him.

Markus cut in, at last regaining his footing in the exchange. ”Noble Augustus, you are right to be wary. We come as friends to your cause and are anxious to receive your trust.”

Romulus shook his head frantically, looking at the ground in annoyance. ”But who are you?!? You ask for my trust with blood on your hands!” He turned and began walking away, though at a slow pace. Markus made to follow, but Remus held up at his hand. They waited as Romulus walked aimlessly into the center of the room. Then he stiffened suddenly and spun on his heels. ”Is my mother safe?!?”

This came as somewhat of a surprise to them and Remus looked questioningly at Markus, who drew himself up and struggled to rectify the omission. ”Yes, the lady Barbaria. She is believed to be at residence here.” Remus eyes’ widened, wondering when he was to be told this potentially vital information. He was cut short however.

”My mother is in residence! She is due back soon from Cumae and if any harm----“

Remus returned the favor, cutting him off. ”No harm has or will be done to your mother, imperator. On that you have my most binding promise.” Inside, his mind was racing at the unexpected complication. A woman! The first such on this foolhardy adventure, if one naturally omitted the local women of comfort. Of course a young man would have a mother! Yet where would she fit into the picture? He had a lot of questions to put to Markus, once this confrontation was over. From the little he knew of the fairer sex, he was aware of their…unpredictability. He glared at the Senator.

The promise seemed to halt Romulus’ building fury, and he subsided. He continued to pace, however, and halted in front of one of the marble busts, staring idly at its features. ”Lucullus. The original owner of this grand villa. Do you know of him?”

Before Markus or Remus could respond, Selenus piped up for the first time. ”Yes. Lucius Licinius Lucullus. Republican general, most of whose laurels were assumed by Pompey, I believe.”

Romulus smiled and turned to the young man. ”That is my thinking also.” The brief pleasant moment passed and he turned back to Remus, taking several steps towards him as he did so. ”All this time has passed and yet you withhold your names.”

”My apologies, imperator. This is Senator Publius Markus. This is Selenus. And I am Remus Macrinus, Praefectus Equitus.”

Above all else, titles were rarely missed by the exiled emperor and his features brightened as if recognizing words from a forgotten past. Now his expression was sharp and calculating. ”And from whom do you derive this authority?” His eyebrows arched challengingly.

”It was Julius Nepos who conferred this.” Remus eyes stared openly at the young man. This was no emperor…yet. They were two who perhaps shared similar ambitions and until then, were simply two dreamers who staked much on words.

For the first time, Romulus’ mouth curled at something Remus had said and he nodded absently. ”Like you, perhaps I cling to titles as well.” His eyes narrowed. ”This is why you are here? To cling to my title?”

After lengthy parries and conversations around his purposes, Remus at last felt the moment approach the critical point. This was not Nepos, who had led an army and was killed for it. Nor was it Glycerius, who had plotted himself into ruin. What was this young emperor’s ambitions? Were they worth the risks? The answer had been given long before, he knew. Romulus was all that was left. He did not hesitate this time, and slowly fell to his knees, bowing his head. ”There is much that needs to be put right, imperator,” he said quietly, though the echo fell more loudly than any of their prior shouts. ”Only you can do what needs to be done. I seek your blessings.”

He couldn’t see Romulus, but the young man was smiling eagerly, in satisfaction and amusement. And yet Remus’ action clearly had significance and he recognized this. Holding his hand over his face, silently clearing his throat, he felt his natural suspicions return. Men could claim much and offer even more without being true to their words. ”My blessings to do what?” he asked casually. And Remus told him. Judging from Romulus’ response and conditions, it would certainly not be easy to earn that most vital of blessings.

Sorry for the delay, I've been doing more overtime than I can count. $$$ But, the story will continue, don't worry, especially as it's hitting the key point where the game and fiction coincide.