Heir of Aurelian

Alaric sat within the confines of the Royal Palace of Ravenna. Standing across from him was the Imperator Titus Claudius Marcellus. The man had invited the Gothic King to his home in an attempt to learn about the situation in Illyricum. Though he had learned the truth from his Frumentarii, he wanted Alaric to answer for his crimes first hand. Despite knowing the truth, he acted cordially with perfect grace as he interrogated the barbarian king.

“Alaric, it is good to see you. I am glad you could make the journey to Ravenna on such short notice. However, if you don’t mind me asking, I heard a little rumor about some things that are happening in the Diocese I have allowed you to govern and I just wanted clarification on the matter.

I must commend you and your forces on your valiant efforts to push the Huns and other barbarian groups out of the region. However, I am a bit concerned about the fact that you have utterly failed to crack down on the lawlessness that inhibits trade with the east. Is there a reason for this?”

Alaric drank from the fortified wine before scoffing at Marcellus’ question. He had journeyed for weeks to meet the Emperor at a moment’s notice simply because he demanded it. Thus, he was in a foul mood from the moment he entered the city of Ravenna.

However, to immediately be questioned about his activities in Illyricum the moment after he sat down, that was too much. Thus, he immediately deflected from the question by insisting that Marcellus had no idea what he was talking about.

“What do you know about Illyricum? The region is a mess. It takes more than a few thousand Goths to fix the problems you Romans have left behind! The roads are in disrepair, the fields have been ravaged, and you can’t travel a mile without running across a group of brigands.

Not only that, but there is an ever-increasing threat of some hostile tribe flooding into the region. I wouldn’t doubt it if you said that you gave my people Illyricum to settle precisely because it is so treacherous. We can’t fight both the invaders and the brigands at the same time. I don’t have enough men. Lord knows you have redistributed most of my warriors to enhance your forces on the Rhine!”_.

Alaric, like many of the Goths, was, in fact, a Christian. As early as a hundred years prior, the Gothic peoples had fallen in to the clutches of Christianity. However, there were still many holdouts of the old religion, and thus it was not uncommon to see a wolf warrior or a berserker among the foederati’s ranks, shouting in the name of their pagan gods as they fearlessly charged into battle.

Truthfully, Marcellus found this to be an embarrassment. Most of the Germanic tribes still followed their original religions, such as the Vandals, the Suebi, and the Franks. As a follower of the old Roman religion, Marcellus was naturally opposed to Christianity even if it was a not so well hidden secret.  However, none of that was his concern at the moment, instead he had to placate this Barbarian King, by informing him the reasoning behind his madness.

“Like you said, you have already pushed many of the barbarian tribes beyond your borders, naturally with so many forces under your command the bulk of them are needed elsewhere. You still have ten thousand Goths stationed in Illyricum.

That is more than enough to deal with your brigand problem, and defend your borders at the same time. Why do I get the feeling that you are deflecting from the issue at hand? Don’t tell me you have been secretly working alongside these brigands to rob the eastern merchants of their wares?”

Alaric’s expression sank in that moment. Was his ploy so obvious? How the hell did Marcellus find out that he was supporting the brigands in their efforts to raid Eastern Roman caravans? Before he could properly respond, Marcellus sat his chalice down on the table and glared at the man. His previously graceful demeanor had shifted to one of a tyrant.

“These attacks stop now! When you return to Illyricum, you will put an end to these brigands and highwaymen who are causing the east to be hesitant about their trade. Do I need to remind you that much of our Empire’s wealth comes from the patricians in the east who are looking for luxuries they can’t find anywhere else?

What other trading partners does the West have, other than the East? We are at war with most of the barbarians beyond our borders, and even then those primitive tribals lack the wealth to trade in any significant capacity.

The Sassanids, though currently friendly with the East, are not so friendly towards the west. Besides, I wouldn’t trust those swarthy bastards not to stab me in the back if I even attempted to open up relations with them.

Our economy relies on the trade between us, and our eastern counterparts, so if they don’t feel safe trading with us, then this little economic boom of ours will come crashing down around us!  If I have to personally visit you in Illyricum, I promise you, the discussion we have will be far less cordial than the one we are having now. So, allow me to ask, do we have a problem, Alaric?”

The Gothic King glared at Marcellus for several moments in silence before shaking his head.

“No… I will get rid of the Brigands upon my return and seize their assets. I have to ask, is this the only reason you have called me here to Ravenna? To lecture me about a brigand problem?”

Marcellus scoffed when he heard this and laid back on his sofa before responding to this question in earnest.

“No, I also called you here to inform you that there are another two legions that are being drafted as we speak. Since I know how sensitive you are about these things, I wanted to inform you in person that once they have completed their training, they will be dispatched to Illyricum to help bring the region under proper control, and to aid in its defense. Make sure to work alongside the legates who I send with them. I will know if you cause any unnecessary problems.”

Alaric immediately stood up from his seat and tossed his chalice on the ground in a fit of rage before barking at Marcellus like a wild dog.

“This wasn’t part of our deal! You said Illyricum was ours to settle!”

In response to this outburst, Marcellus sat up in an upright position as he stared into the blue eyes of the Gothic King with a stern expression on his face.

“I said the region was yours to settle, but I never said anything about it being yours to govern. You have been acting in control of the region explicitly because I am low on reliable men who can fulfill the position of an Imperial Legate. However, your actions of aligning yourself with common brigands has brought me concern about your leadership abilities.

Thus, while you will still hold the position of Imperial Legate, my Legates will be there to assist you in your endeavors, and make sure you do not make another such folly in the future. After all, that’s what this was, was it not? An act of folly, and not malice? Because I assure you, should you have aligned with these brigands with any malevolent intentions in mind, it would force me to lash you to a cross!”

Alaric saw the threatening look in Marcellus’ olive green eyes and shivered in fear. He finally understood why Sarus was so fearful of this man. Despite the fact that Alaric held control over thirty thousand plus gothic warriors, Marcellus was completely unafraid to execute him if he stepped out of line.

There was a level of boldness in the Imperator’s statement that led the Gothic King to believe Marcellus was not bluffing in the slightest.  Thus, rather than cause further problems for himself, Alaric bowed his head in defeat and muttered under his breath.

“It was an act of folly…”

Marcellus perked up his ears in an exaggerated gesture and ordered the man to repeat himself.

“I’m sorry. What was that? I don’t believe I heard you!”

Alaric sighed heavily before glaring at Marcellus as he repeated himself with a more clear enunciation of his words.

“I said it was an act of folly. There was no malice intended.”

Marcellus grinned as he heard this and nodded his head before dispatching Alaric on his way back to the Diocese of Illyricum.

“Very good. If that is the case, then you are free to return to Illyricum. However, let me forewarn you. If I find out you so much as cursed my name under your breath in private, I will not be merciful. Do you understand me?”

The Proud King of the Goths felt resentful as he was being scolded by the Roman Emperor like a dog. However, he did not dare lash out at that moment and quickly nodded his head while barking like a trained hound.

“I understand…”

With these words, Marcellus bade Alaric farewell, and would make sure to keep a closer eye on him in the future. If Alaric was this troublesome, then he shuddered to think of what Sigefrida’s brother would be like. He was beginning to lament his decision to make use of Barbarian warlords as proxies against the other Germanic tribes.

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