Attila by Ross Laidlaw Page A

avoid feeling self-disgust at his involvement in its machinations. But the end, so long as it merited achievement, could usually be made to justify the means, even when that involved deceit and betrayal. And, if he were honest, Aetius loved it all: the excitement of pitting his cunning and resources against a worthy adversary; the thrill of combat; the heady joy of victory.
    Arriving at his villa, Aetius flung Bucephalus’ reins to a groom, and strode through the suite of halls to the
tablinum
– more office than library, in his case. As usual, the place was in chaos, with books, papers, and accoutrements, scattered everywhere in disorder. Not that he could blame the house-slaves; he had given strict orders that, basic cleaning apart, the room should remain undisturbed in order to preserve the integrity of his ‘system’. The books were mainly on military matters: Vegetius (an idiot who conflated tactics from the time of Trajan and Hadrian with those of the present);
On Matters of Warfare
, an interesting treatise by an anonymous author on army reform, advocating greater use of machines to save manpower; a precious copy (updated) of the
Notitia dignitatum
, a government list of all key offices of state for both empires, including military posts and the units under their command.
    Now for the second part of his campaign against Boniface. Dropping his sword-belt over a bust of the Count (Aetius believed in the principle ‘Know your enemy’), he made to call for his secretary, then changed his mind. What he intended committing to papyrus was so perilous that it was best not seen by any eyes but his own and the recipient’s. Rummaging among the clutter, he finally located pen, ink, and scroll, then began to write.
    The task completed, Aetius cast about in his mind for a suitable person to deliver the letter. Someone utterly reliable, discreet, and a good rider. It was essential, of course, that his message reach Boniface before Placidia’s. He had it: Titus, the perfect choice. The lad was an excellent horseman, of proven loyalty, and of an unquestioning nature. He dispatched a slave to summon the lad.
    â€˜Ah, Titus Valerius, I’ve an important job for you. Ever been to Africa?’
    â€˜No, sir.’
    â€˜You’ll like it. Nice people, good climate, no barbarians. You’ll deliver a letter to Boniface. In person – that’s absolutely vital. You should find him in Bulla Regia or Sufetula.’ 5
    â€˜Boniface?’
    â€˜The Count of Africa. One of the finest generals Rome’s ever produced – I say nothing of myself, of course. Working together, the two of us could revive Rome’s fortune’s in the West. Now, details. Here’s a travel warrant from the Master of Offices, valid for Africa as well as Italy. It’ll let you change saddle horses at the imperial post’s relay stations. Ariminum–Rome–Capua–Rhegium–Messana–Lilybaeum–Carthage, that’s your route. Take passage on the fastest vessels you can find for the crossings. Time is of the essence, you understand. Cash: this purse of
solidi
should more than cover your expenses. Any questions?’
    Surveying the latest batch of recruits standing by their mounts for morning inspection, the senior
ducenarius
of Vexillatio ‘Equites Africani’ groaned to himself. A poor, scratch lot, thought Proximo, who had been a centurion of the old Twentieth when it was recalled from Britain for the defence of Italy. In Proximo’s view, these new units –
vexillationes
(cavalry) and
auxilia
(infantry) – couldn’t hold a candle to the old legions, half of whose men had been wiped out during the Gothic Wars and which were now in process of being phased out. His present unit had been raised from the notoriously inferior frontier troops, and upgraded to field status in the Army of Africa. At least the horses were good quality – better than the men