Heir of Aurelian

Marcellus sat across from a Suebi warlord by the name of Asarulfo. This man was not only a Suebi chieftain who was gathering the clans into one giant army. He was also a veteran warrior of a hundred battles, and more importantly, Sigefrida’s eldest brother. Sigefrida was in her late twenties, while this man was practically forty.

Despite the age difference between him and Marcellus, Asarulfo had a regal appearance, one that the Roman Emperor was not expecting. On one side was a Roman Emperor garbed in purple, with gilded scale armor, on the other was the Suebi chieftain dressed in a green tunic with red embroidery, and a shirt of mail.

Marcellus had spent weeks journeying from his capital of Ravenna to the borders of Gaul, where Asarulfo and his war-band currently lie. After a brief scuffle between Marcellus messengers and the warriors of the Suebi tribe, the two men had decided to meet outside the city of Lugdunum. A safe enough distance away from Roman forces that the Suebi would not feel threatened, while still close enough to the city for Marcellus to feel secure.

The two men did not speak for many moments. Instead, they sized one another up, determining the value of each other’s character by sheer virtue of appearance. Though Marcellus’ armor was gilded, there were serious signs of wear on it. It was clear that until recently, the Roman Emperor was a man who fought on the front lines. Something that surprised Asarulfo as it was against Roman doctrine.

The callouses on Marcellus’ hands suggested he was well accustomed to menial labor, as well as wielding a sword. Another aspect of Marcellus’ character that Asarulfo found interesting. Whereas Marcellus judged the man seated across from him by how well he groomed himself. He was a barbarian, but his platinum hair was perfectly brushed, to ensure there was not the slightest sign of matting. His beard was gently oiled and combed to avoid a frazzled appearance.

Even though he was finely groomed, Asarulfo was purely martial in appearance. There was no superfluous gilding of his armor or helmet, even though he could easily afford it. A testament to his affinity for practicality was on full display with his spatha’s hilt, which had a simple construction. Despite the fact that the Germanic chieftains and Kings were well known for overly embellishing the hilts of their swords._.

After approving of each other’s appearance, Asarulfo was the first to break the silence. With a wry smile on his face, he uttered the words that Marcellus was not expecting.

“So my sister’s slaver comes before me, begging for my servitude. Do you think that just because you have enslaved Sigefrida that I will be so quick to call you dominus? It is a pity what happened to that girl and her mother, but she was better off with it. She has clearly proven she is not fit to wear the title of a Suebi woman!”

These comments outraged Marcellus, but he kept a stoic appearance. It was one thing to insult him by calling him a mere slaver, but to insult the woman he loved, that was enough to stoke any man’s fury. Marcellus merely sighed in response as he ignored the man’s provocation and spoke about more important matters.

“I know all about your plans to unite the Suebi clans and invade Hispania where you intend to carve out your own Kingdom. I regret to inform you, but Hispania swears its loyalty to me, and there is no land there that is available for conquest. You are already intruding into my lands, the fact that we are meeting face to face is a testament of my benevolence, as well as my love for your sister…”

Asarulfo cocked a brow when he heard this last remark. He did not expect this Roman dog to speak of love for his sister, while he had heard that some Roman masters fell in love with their slaves. It was not the most common occurrence. Rather, there were far more tales of abuse towards slaves within the borders of the Empire.  He was quick to call Marcellus out on this point of his argument, rather than speak of his plans of invasion.

“Are you saying you love my sister? Oh, that is fascinating. So the bitch has used her wiles to snare herself an emperor! Truly, my father would be dumbfounded if he were alive to hear this. I have heard rumors of your Empire. Your rule is not like your predecessors, and there are those in your empire who are against your reign. How long do you think you can last as in your position with traitors around every corner seeking to overthrow you?”

Marcellus scoffed when he heard this. It was true that there were plenty within his borders who sought to eliminate him. There were even more who still called himself a usurper, and did not recognize his reign as legitimate. It had been less than a year since he had come to the throne. He was well aware of the dangers around him, yet he was undeterred. Instead, he took a sip from his chalice before calmly answering the question.

“I say I have a good five years before I’m assassinated, most likely by one of my closest advisors. The history of Rome proves that the most capable emperors tend to die young…”

Asarulfo was baffled when he heard Marcellus’ answer. The man knew he was likely to be assassinated, and even estimated that he had five years before it happened. So why did he take up the position of emperor if he knew it would cause his untimely death? He could not help but ask this question.

“So then why?”

Marcellus gazed at Asarulfo with confusion as he heard this comment and quickly asked for clarification.

“Why what?”

It was clear to Asarulfo that the Roman Emperor did not understand his intention behind such a simple question, thus he cleared his throat before asking the question in its entirety.

“Why did you seize the throne for yourself? You come from a position of wealth and privilege, do you not? Why not just retire to the countryside and live out the rest of your days in prosperity and security? Why bother entangling yourself with the dirty politics that have seen better men than yourself cast to the depths of oblivion?”

Marcellus did not even need a moment to think about the answer. He stared boldly at the man seated across from him before proclaiming his reasoning for getting involved in such dangerous affairs.

“Because someone has to do it. Rome will not survive so long as indolent fools and greedy bureaucrats continue to drive it off a cliff. The last time the Empire had any hope of restoring itself to its former glory, the Emperor was assassinated by his own Praetorian guard, who took up the sword and betrayed their master simply because they feared they would be punished.

Since then we have been spiralling towards collapse. Initially, I had only desired to serve in the Army, and do my best to drive the barbarians from our lands. However, things don’t always go as planned. A petty and indolent fool of an emperor deprived me of my position, kidnapped my mother, and called for my head. I took up the sword in the name of retribution and put an end to his reign. Since there was nobody in the Empire better suited to ruling over it, naturally the burden fell on me.

I may not be the greatest man for the job, but I’m the best one available. If I don’t do my part, and lead by example, how can I expect anyone else to work for a better future? I am the Western Roman Empire simply because there is nobody better suited for the task.

Should a man the likes of Aurelian arise from my ranks, and desire to take the reins, I will gladly hand him my diadem, and retire to the countryside with your sister where we can live a peaceful and prosperous life. Unfortunately, nobody like that exists, or at least not at the moment. Since there is nobody who wishes to do the dirty work that is necessary to restore the Empire, I will do it.”

This line of thinking astounded Asarulfo, who gazed at Marcellus as if he was looking at a madman, who would do so much work, and risk their life for the save of preserving a rotten Empire. He could not fathom the mindset. The Suebi chieftain could only scratch his head as he thought through it. He came back to the same question he had earlier and voiced it in hopes of clarification.

“Even if you are the most capable man for the job, why would you do it? Knowing full well the risks involved, and the stress that comes with it. Why would you do that to yourself?”

Marcellus took another sip of his wine within his chalice before responding in earnest to the man’s question.

“Because there was a time where Rome was once the beacon of all civilization, its greatness was beyond measure, and I believe that one day we can reclaim that glory. I doubt I am the man to lead us to such greatness, but at the very least, I can prevent the Empire’s collapse until a time where that man comes to power.”

Asarulfo stared at Marcellus with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Though such words were not enough to move him to serve beneath the boot of Rome, he had a newly founded respect for Marcellus and could only utter his thoughts.

“Well said…”

The negotiations between Marcellus and Asarulfo would continue for some time before any form of agreement could be made, but Marcellus had started strong in his negotiations.

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