The Eternal City: A Novel of Belisarius (The Last of the Romans Book 5) by William Havelock

Author:William Havelock [Havelock, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Havelock Books
Published: 2024-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

The Eternal City

If Justin still lived, he would have kissed every man and woman present on that day. While many in Rome’s soaring buildings viewed our procession to the forum through windows and behind columns, a fair number sprinted forth, cheering, to wrap one of our men in an embrace. One man, crook-backed and gray-bearded, hobbled to our banners and brushed their cloth with his hand.

“The Emperor truly came,” he said, touching his forehead to the Chi-Rho banner. “I was a boy when Odoacer came. I never thought this day would arrive.”

Dismounting, Belisarius placed his hands about the man’s shoulders. “We never forgot you. And now, we will make things right again.”

Rome was overwhelming. In the size of its buildings, the maze of its winding roads, its statues and monuments, and all the markers telling of the glory of Romans long dead. Constantine. Trajan. Vespasian. Agrippa. Augustus, of course, yet many others not commonly held in the hearts of Imperial citizens outside of the Eternal City. Yet as stunning as the city was, the love of the people, bedecked in whatever faded or hand-sewn Imperial regalia they could muster, was what consumed me. For years, I always assumed that Constantinople, with its Hippodrome and palace, housing hundreds of thousands of denizens, had been the center of the world. After an hour in Rome, I knew that all of that was a lie.

If I was overpowered amidst all the emotion and majesty, most of Belisarius’ men were like children within that city of soaring stone. Many residents tossed flowers toward Belisarius as he rode past, while others offered gifts to one spearman or another. One young Roman woman sprinted forth to peck a kiss upon my cheek, darting away before I could react. Liberius hooted with laughter as Petrus wept with joy, surrounded by walls of noise that longed for us. And Belisarius most of all.

Even the muted warmth from the veiled sun could not diminish Rome’s splendor. If Neapolis was a triumph of Imperial architecture, Rome was a dream carved into marble and stone. It was a victory that defied all convention, for none would have predicted that Theodahad would surrender such a prize without even so much as a message to negotiate. Optaris, the exiled lord of Neapolis, had been discovered in Trajan’s forum, insisting that he had elected to remain behind as the bulk of the Gothic garrison fled north. Optaris’ presence only kindled our hope for negotiated victory, although doubt never lingered far behind.

The suspicious ease of it all was the only disconcerting note in an otherwise glorious afternoon, but one that could not wait. Thus, with Liberius assigning sections of Belisarius’ army different quarters throughout the city, Belisarius summoned those senior leaders that could be identified in the chaos of celebration. Many were discovered, from Roman senators to even Pope Silverius, who had been confirmed to his position less than a half year prior at the personal recommendation of Theodahad. Yet it was a different figure altogether who captured our attentions, for he was one we did not expect to see so soon.

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