Behind the cluster of Roman senators came dozens of large wagons, each pulled by legionnaires and guarded by others marching three deep on both sides, and running the entire length of the convoy.
“ … all the worldly riches left to Rome,” Attalus was saying, his tone low and shaded with desperation. “They avail us not, since they cannot sustain life, so we give them freely, in exchange for a lifting of the siege. Rome asks you, noble King Alaric of the Visigoths, please, allow us to purchase our freedom, our very lives, but know that we ask this as citizens only, and do not speak for the Empire, since the Empire has chosen to ignore our plight.”
Do it, Alaric , Gigi tried to force her thoughts into his. Accept the offer.
“Tell me, Senator Attalus,” the king responded calmly, “what have you brought? All the riches of Rome, you say, but I have no need of statues and fancy paintings. You Romans owe me gold and land, and if I don’t receive my due, my men shall — ”
“What? Your men shall what?” Another senator, a tall, unfamiliar man with a hooked nose, stepped forward. “You forget,” he said, frowning, “that the people of Rome are well trained and ready to fight.”
Alaric laughed. “And I would remind you that handfuls of wheat are easier to cut than individual stalks. If you dare test us — and I would strongly advise against it! — then we shall have no choice; Visigoth scythes shall reap your Roman blades in one fell swoop.”
“Please, please, King Alaric,” Attalus said, raising his hands, “we have brought you all we have.”
“Bah!” Alaric exclaimed. “I will not give up the siege unless we get all of your gold and silver, as well as all worthy movable property and the barbarian slaves.”
“But, but,” the hook-nosed senator was stammering now, “what will you leave the citizens of Rome?”
The smile faded from Alaric’s face. “Their lives.”
A hush descended on the crowd, and Gigi held her breath.
Attalus broke the quiet. “Please, let me show you but a token of the wealth,” his hand shook as he motioned to his men, “and I will stay as surety, while you verify the contents of the wagons, if that is what you wish.”
Five trunks were placed at Alaric’s feet.
“The first ingots in this box are but a hint of what our wagons hold,” Attalus said, opening the lid of the nearest one. “There are five thousand libres of gold, plus thirty thousand libres of silver.”
Gigi gasped as excited chatter ran through the people watching, but Alaric’s sober expression never wavered.
Attalus opened the next two trunks. “Here are rare silks and spices out of Persia, the lands of the Indus and beyond. In total, four thousand costly tunics and chests filled with every delight of the Orient.” He drew a shimmering, red swath of fabric across his arm, his tremors now even more pronounced. “In every hue and texture, the silks will please your women, and so too, your men, while the spices will not only enhance food, they will also cure many ills and afflictions. I have brought you cinnamon, nutmeg — and pepper, over three thousand — ”
“Bah! Pepper?” Sergeric scoffed, pretending to sneeze as several of his friends laughed, clearly finding the senator’s anxiety highly amusing.
With sympathy, Gigi watched Attalus glance at Magnus, who showed no expression. Then she noticed Randegund glaring at the senator in disdain.
As if sensing her stare, Randegund turned and looked right at Gigi again. Another shiver raced down her spine, for the woman’s evil blue eyes seemed paler than before, her gaze colder and more deadly, if that were possible.
“You there,” Attalus’s voice rose up, and Gigi shifted her gaze, “show them what else we have brought.” The senator motioned to the legionnaires of the second and third wagons, who threw back their tarps, revealing heaps of skins and hides, most dyed scarlet.
“In addition to the fine crimson hides for
“ … all the worldly riches left to Rome,” Attalus was saying, his tone low and shaded with desperation. “They avail us not, since they cannot sustain life, so we give them freely, in exchange for a lifting of the siege. Rome asks you, noble King Alaric of the Visigoths, please, allow us to purchase our freedom, our very lives, but know that we ask this as citizens only, and do not speak for the Empire, since the Empire has chosen to ignore our plight.”
Do it, Alaric , Gigi tried to force her thoughts into his. Accept the offer.
“Tell me, Senator Attalus,” the king responded calmly, “what have you brought? All the riches of Rome, you say, but I have no need of statues and fancy paintings. You Romans owe me gold and land, and if I don’t receive my due, my men shall — ”
“What? Your men shall what?” Another senator, a tall, unfamiliar man with a hooked nose, stepped forward. “You forget,” he said, frowning, “that the people of Rome are well trained and ready to fight.”
Alaric laughed. “And I would remind you that handfuls of wheat are easier to cut than individual stalks. If you dare test us — and I would strongly advise against it! — then we shall have no choice; Visigoth scythes shall reap your Roman blades in one fell swoop.”
“Please, please, King Alaric,” Attalus said, raising his hands, “we have brought you all we have.”
“Bah!” Alaric exclaimed. “I will not give up the siege unless we get all of your gold and silver, as well as all worthy movable property and the barbarian slaves.”
“But, but,” the hook-nosed senator was stammering now, “what will you leave the citizens of Rome?”
The smile faded from Alaric’s face. “Their lives.”
A hush descended on the crowd, and Gigi held her breath.
Attalus broke the quiet. “Please, let me show you but a token of the wealth,” his hand shook as he motioned to his men, “and I will stay as surety, while you verify the contents of the wagons, if that is what you wish.”
Five trunks were placed at Alaric’s feet.
“The first ingots in this box are but a hint of what our wagons hold,” Attalus said, opening the lid of the nearest one. “There are five thousand libres of gold, plus thirty thousand libres of silver.”
Gigi gasped as excited chatter ran through the people watching, but Alaric’s sober expression never wavered.
Attalus opened the next two trunks. “Here are rare silks and spices out of Persia, the lands of the Indus and beyond. In total, four thousand costly tunics and chests filled with every delight of the Orient.” He drew a shimmering, red swath of fabric across his arm, his tremors now even more pronounced. “In every hue and texture, the silks will please your women, and so too, your men, while the spices will not only enhance food, they will also cure many ills and afflictions. I have brought you cinnamon, nutmeg — and pepper, over three thousand — ”
“Bah! Pepper?” Sergeric scoffed, pretending to sneeze as several of his friends laughed, clearly finding the senator’s anxiety highly amusing.
With sympathy, Gigi watched Attalus glance at Magnus, who showed no expression. Then she noticed Randegund glaring at the senator in disdain.
As if sensing her stare, Randegund turned and looked right at Gigi again. Another shiver raced down her spine, for the woman’s evil blue eyes seemed paler than before, her gaze colder and more deadly, if that were possible.
“You there,” Attalus’s voice rose up, and Gigi shifted her gaze, “show them what else we have brought.” The senator motioned to the legionnaires of the second and third wagons, who threw back their tarps, revealing heaps of skins and hides, most dyed scarlet.
“In addition to the fine crimson hides for
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