Chapter 38
The first few weeks of little Victor’s life were nothing but peace, happiness, and bliss—at least for those of us inside the villa. Outside the walls, however, the storm clouds of intrigue and violence continued to build and boil, unleashing mighty waves that would sweep over our island realm.
When the tempest finally broke, the inundation caught many poor folk unawares, swamping some and stranding others. Even those who saw it coming, were swept away in the flood of conflicting events. Alas, one of these was the legate of Deva. As a prominent supporter of Majorian, the emperor’s rival, his position was well known. Those stalwarts of Valentinian’s faction had the audacity to call it treason, and claimed that any support shown a rival should be punished. Aridius, and all those who agreed with him were castigated for their dissent. As the cries for retribution grew louder, some of those so accused chose the discretion of retreat.
“I have it that Riothamus has removed himself from the fight,” Aridius told me one evening on his return from a long day at the Civitas House. I had just left Helena in her chamber where she and the infant were dozing after a feeding.
“Removed himself?” I wondered, uncertain what he meant by that. “Why?”
“He is sickened by the slander and lies, sickened by Emperor Valentinian’s low, dishonest tactics—and who can blame him?” He huffed, puffing out his cheeks in disgust. “Riothamus is returning to Gaul to protect his rank and authority while he still has any to protect.”
“Is that the end of it?” I asked. “The confrontation is over?”
Aridius nodded sadly and I saw how tired he was, how much all this was weighing on him. “It is. Even if Majorian somehow gained the throne, he would have half the western legions against him. The best generals will tell you a commander cannot fight a war on two separate fronts.”
I took this in as best I could. The legate had taken to discussing his political affairs with me at the end of the day with whoever was willing to listen. Tonight it was my turn—though I admit it all seemed far from my immediate concern, or interest. Other matters pressed for more urgent concern; helping Helena regain her strength and looking after the infant were more important to me. Only insofar as it mattered to Aridius, it mattered to me. “What will you do now?” I asked.
Aridius replied, “Riothamus has asked me to come with him.”
“To Gaul?”
“To Armorica, yes,” Aridius corrected. “I would become commander of the garrison there. Legatus Legionis—that is the official title.” His expression told me he was not enthusiastic for such a dramatic change.
“But . . . what?”
“But I cannot think of leaving Deva just now,” he confessed. “This is our home. We have Victor to look after, and Helena needs time to heal. I am needed here—perhaps now more than ever.”
With the turning of the year, however, it became increasingly clear that the decision whether to stay or go would be taken from him. Or, rather, the decision was reduced to terms that rendered the choice very easy to make: leave Deva, or be stripped of title, duties, and rank.
I cannot say I begin to understand all that lay behind this stark ultimatum—animosity? Revenge? Jealous ambition? I do not know, but I strongly suspect Valentinian devotees—with the help of power-hungry aristocrats—succeeded in maintaining enough support among the people to keep him on the throne.
Not that any of that would have mattered. Valentinian had the laurel crown in his grasp and no one would pry it from his hand. Delegations were dispatched to Viroconium and Eboracum and Londinum and elsewhere to solidify his support and strengthen his claim. After Aetius and Riothamus’ departure, no meaningful challenge emerged. Valentinian would be Emperor of the West and that was that.
Meanwhile, Aridius’ position as legate continued to deteriorate, his future growing ever more fraught and uncertain. The rancor released by that distant imperial contest was not to be believed—or understood. The same men Aridius had served among for years—men he knew and who knew him well, men he trusted—turned against him, shunned him, denounced him in the streets. It came down to this: certain loud voices, the big dogs of local power, wanted Aridius gone and did not greatly care where he went or what happened to him.
Thus, while the legate still had the use of his staff and aides in the Civitas House, he sent to Riothamus and accepted the offer to become the commander of the garrison in Armorica. The speed with which the reply came back astonished us every bit as much as the reading of it delighted. “God be praised! My prayers for a good man beside me have been answered. Do come, please, in all haste. R.”
Aridius greeted this outcome with both relief and regret. “I will be sorry to leave Deva,” he said, gazing on his wife and the infant at her breast. “It has been our home these many years. But we must make the best of what is given us in the time we have.”
“There is nothing for us here anymore, my love.” She cuddled at the baby in her arms. “And now we must think about making the best future possible for our son.”
Aridius leaned down and kissed his wife. “Thank you for that,” he said. “It makes the leaving easier.” With that decided, he was suddenly all business. “Now, then! There are a thousand things to do and the day is speeding forth.” With that, he breezed from the room and was gone.
Once we were alone, Helena looked to me. “Will you come with us Aurelia?”
The question struck me oddly. Until that moment, I had not given it much thought one way or the other; that is, apart from a perhaps naive notion that I was naturally part of the household to be moved. It now occurred to me that this assumption was nothing but a fantasy of my own imagining. I blinked and hesitated; I didn’t know what to say. I looked to Helena, who regarded me with what I took to be hopeful encouragement. “If you will have me . . .,” I replied.
Helena exhaled sharply and I realized she had been holding her breath waiting for my decision. “Wonderful!” she sighed happily. “For, I am certain I would be lost without you, Aurelia. You’re my dearest friend and companion. More! You are the sister I never had.”
Gratified beyond measure by this effusive reply, this outburst of affection, the swell of emotion tightened my throat and my eyes grew moist. I could not speak, so I embraced her instead and we clung to each other for a long moment—before the baby objected with a loud cry. “I’m not certain little Victor agrees,” I said, cradling my hand to his head.
“No, he doesn’t,” agreed Helena, “and think I know why.” Rising up, she called for a servant and Jason appeared in the doorway. “Fetch Aridius, tell him I want to speak to him at once.”
The girl bit her lip. “Legate Aridius left the villa, lady.”
“Then run after him—catch him! Tell him to come back.” The girl stood uncertainly. Helena shooed her away. “Go!”
The moments passed, and we soon heard the rapid footsteps in the corridor and Aridius burst into the room—alarm sharpening his expression. “What! What is it? What has happened?”
“Calm yourself, dear husband. There is nothing to be troubled about. I merely wanted to catch you before you spoke to the actuarius to register our son’s birth.”
“Is that all,” Aridius sighed with relief. “Yes, yes, I mean to see him today first thing and—” His voice trailed off as he sensed a change in his wife. “Why? What is so important?”
Cradling her son to her breast, she looked down into his little pink face and said, “His name is to be Aurelius—the golden one—” she glanced at me and smiled, “—after his adopted aunt.”
“Is that so?” Aridius glanced at me, then back at his wife with concern. “But I thought we agreed his name would be Victor.”
Helena was already shaking her head. “No,” she said. “From now on his name is Aurelius. You will see to it.”
Aridius paused and then his furrowed brow smoothed as a wide grin broke across his face. “Aurelius . . . my little golden one.” The legate held out a hand to me and clasped it tightly. “A fine and handsome name it is. Anyone can see it suits him better.”
Helena gave my other hand a squeeze. “We are in your debt, dear sister. I honestly do not know how I would have fared without you these past months.”
So, it has come to this, I thought, another beginning: a new life with a new name in a new home. The world was changing, it seemed, and we must change with it. Like travelers clinging to a runaway carriage, we must endure the ride or be left in the dust beside the road. Aridius was never one to be left behind, so the decision was easily made.
We would go. It was as simple as that. Oh, but in life, I’ve long since discovered, those same simple decisions are so very often the most life-changing as well.