Jack Whyte - The Skystone

"No!" Caius shook his head in denial. "How could that be? The Narrows — that I could understand. But a war fleet across the widest part of the sea? At the start of winter? Who would dare try it at this time of year? The Gauls have neither the courage nor the ships. "

"I'm told that these were Frankish pirates. "

"Franks? God! They dare much today, for petty brigands!" Alaric was quick to contradict him. "They are no longer petty, Caius. The Franks today dare much more than you know. They have bred warrior kings. The word from mainland Gaul is that they are highly organized and are quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with. The legions are in trouble over there. "

I looked across the table to where Caius and my wife sat in awe, seemingly spellbound by the chronicle of disaster Alaric was presenting. For what seemed the longest time, a silence lay over all of us, almost suffocating in its density. I was the one who eventually broke it.

"Well, Caius, " I said, my voice sounding flat, hard and heavy even in my own ears, "this could be it, the start of what you've been warning us of for years. "

He looked at me as though he didn't understand what I had said, a tiny frown of puzzlement appearing briefly between his brows.

"What?"

I carried on, my tone unchanged. "It looks as though your ending might have begun. To do what they have done, these Franks must be hungry. And that means they'll be humourless and hard to reason with, for hungry people seldom stop to laugh. If they really are, as Alaric contends, emerging as a coherent fighting force — damnation, if they're foolhardy enough to dare the sea between Gaul and here at this time of year — they could destroy the entire balance of the Empire. They could be the final straw that breaks the camel's back and sends the whole world toppling into ruin. "

He nodded wordlessly, thinking my comments through before addressing Alaric again.

"Tell me what more you know of these Franks, my friend. Why have they suddenly become so troublesome?"

The Bishop shook his head. "I cannot answer that with any ring of truth, Caius, for I truly do not know. "

"You spoke of warrior kings. Who are they?"

Alaric shook his head. "I have no names. I only know they exist, bred of the troubles of their people. The Visigoths have leaders, too, today. Leaders with great talent for warfare. "

"Heathen bastards!" I interjected.

"No, Publius. " Alaric shook his head again. "Not heathens. Many of them are Christians, forced into war by injustices against their people. This I know to be true. We have bishops and priests among them now, preaching the Word of God with great success, except where it concerns war. These people will not stand still any longer and be exploited like cattle at the whim of Rome. They choose to fight. As they see it, they fight for their survival as a race. "

"Aye, and they're all Roman-trained!" I said.

"That may be the least troublesome thing about them. " Alaric's voice was solemn. "The Franks have taken to horse. They are highly mobile now, capable of covering great distances far faster than the legions. It makes them difficult to contend with. "

"The Franks now, too?" Caius's voice was rich with disgust. "Rome had enough trouble with the Ostrogoths in Asia Minor when they took to horse! That was, what? Five years ago? A whole consular army wiped out!

Six legions, totally destroyed! Forty thousand men! I still can't believe that, after all this time. "

"An imperial army, Caius. " My interruption was soft spoken. "Valens himself was there, remember. "

"Valens! He was no emperor! He was a popinjay pretending to rule in the West, with Valentinian sitting in Constantinople, permitting it because it was expedient. Two Emperors at one time! Faugh! And now we have three! Gratius and his catamite, Valentinian — co-emperors, if you please — and Theodosius. It disgusts me to the pit of my stomach!" Caius was growing really angry, allowing himself to be distracted.

"But we were discussing horsemen. The Ostrogoth cavalry that day, ill-equipped rabble as they were, destroyed the myth of Rome Invincible. " Caius turned again to Alaric. "Where have these Franks found horses in such numbers as you seem to be describing?"

Alaric's shrug was matter-of-fact. "They breed them. They've been doing so for years. Some of them, most of them, came from Asia. The Franks bought them or stole them in great herds. Horse-breeding has become an art among them. "

"Strange we've never heard of it, " Caius said.

"Nonsense, Caius Britannicus. It has been under your noses now for years. You simply chose to pay them no attention, so long as they remained peaceful. Rome has had no great and pressing need for horses, least of all the small, rough-bred horses of the Franks. " Caius expelled pent-up air through his lips with a rasping sound. "You are correct, my friend. You are correct. Rome, it seems, will not learn. If the Franks are horsed at all, they are a threat! A big one! If massed horsemen smashed six legions at a time on one ill day, rolling the cohorts up like carpets, they'll do it again, you mark my words. What has the Emperor done about this? Is Rome training horsemen?"

"Which emperor, Caius?" Alaric was smiling gently. "A moment ago, when you were ranting about three of them, I hesitated to interrupt you. Now I must tell you that you are out of date. There are four emperors now."

My heart began to pound. Caius sat stunned.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Alaric shrugged again. "The legions here in Britain have elected Magnus Maximus their emperor by acclamation. He is, at this moment, assembling an army to cross into Gaul to pacify the land and fortify his claim. "

"God's blood! I was afraid of that man's dark ambition! Varrus, did I not name him to you?" Caius's face was sombre as he spoke to Alaric again. "What of Antonius Cicero? Where is he?"

"Tonius is dead. " Alaric's voice was heavy with sorrow. "Loyal to Theodosius and dead, Caius. He marched against Magnus when he heard the news, but his own men deserted him and crossed to Maximus. Cicero was executed. "

I had to fight down nausea at this news. Noble Tonius. He had done as he said he would at our wedding feast and had died for his nobility. I was heartsick.

"When did this happen?"

"Very recently. I heard the news myself only days ago. "

"Alaric, " I asked wearily, "how does it happen that you hear so much so fast?"

"The Church has many eyes and ears, Publius, and threatens no one. That word was brought to me by Father Cato, here, who had it from a priest who saw Cicero die. "

"Legate Cicero!" I corrected him.

"Legate Cicero. May God rest his soul!"

I felt a burden of depression settle on my shoulders, remembering Tonius the night he swore he would oppose a self-proclaimed emperor from Britain. Poor Cicero. He had been prophetic. How many others had, that night, I wondered?

I had a sudden thought. "What about Seneca? Where is he?" Alaric shook his head. "I do not know, Publius, but he is no longer in Colchester. He disappeared shortly before Magnus's insurrection. " I frowned at him, alerted by something in his tone. "Disappeared?

Before? What do you mean?"

"Only what I said. He disappeared. "

"But you said 'before, ' did you not? Before the insurrection? And there was something in the way you said it. You have some thoughts on the matter, I think. "

Alaric sighed. "Publius, " he said, "I bring you only facts. I do not deal in rumour, and rumour is all I have to go on in this matter. I have no interest in the man Claudius Seneca. He is not the sort of man on whom I choose to spend valuable time. "

"What is the rumour, Alaric? Please, it is important. " He sighed again at my insistence. "You should put Seneca away from your mind, Publius. He is an evil man. No good will come of brooding on him or on his actions. "