The Damned Read online

  He drew much of his strength from those who were suffering under the persecution of the Church. To them he gave religious freedom. Each man to his own gods and conscience.

  In the matter of war it was different. Any who came to his standards knew they had to give unquestioning obedience to him. Alaric knew that many of Rome's problems came from having too many would be leaders all working against each other. This would not be tolerated if he was to win. There could be only one master of the armies.

  All that he had ever wanted for them was to be an honored friend and ally. There was much his nation could learn from the Romans. He wanted to raise them up from being just a semi nomadic race of warriors. He wanted cities for them and schools. All this could only come from Rome.

  He gave the order. His Visigoths and their allies crossed over the frozen rivers, taking their wagons with them. One after another the cities of the Empire fell to them. Many opened their gates when they learned that those who did not oppose him would be treated gently and only their gold and the articles needed for war would be taken from them. He did not leave those he conquered to starve. He always left behind enough grain to see them through to the spring.

  He would not have chosen a winter campaign, but there was no other way to get food to feed his thousands except from the granaries of Roman provinces.

  Greece fell to them almost as an afterthought. Once they started moving there was no way to stop. Athens surrendered and paid tribute. Corinth and Sparta next. Then all of Argos yielded without raising arms to resist. The noble heroes of Greece were only legends, Achilles and Hector distant memories from a past that lived only in fables.

  Alaric had the wealth of Greece at his disposal and distributed most of it among his tribesmen. They took slaves by the thousands, especially the women. These helped to keep the tempers of the conquerors in control. The daughters of Greece went to the wagons of their new masters, and their families were spared.

  Rome put her hope in the ability of their ablest general, Stilicho, who was finally permitted to take troops from Italy and go to the aid of the Greeks. Gathering a fleet, he sailed with his army to the Isthmus, not far from Corinth.

  In time he had some measure of success in repelling the barbarians who retreated slowly to the mountain of Phloe on the border of Elis, where Stilicho put their camp under seige. But Stilicho made an error in judgment. Believing he had them bottled up and only had to wait until they were starved into submission, he left the battlefield to his subordinates in order to enjoy the fruits of his apparent victory by reveling in the sensuous pleasures of the decadent Greeks.

  While Stilicho was away, Alaric outsmarted him by making a separate treaty with Arcadius, Emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire to which this part of Greece actually belonged. By making a truce, Arcadius would receive credit for ending the war, and not his cousins from Italy.

  Stilicho was forced to let the Visigoths evacuate. If he had broken the treaty made with Arcadius, there might have been civil war. Thus, Alaric was able to get his warriors and their loot out of Greece safely. Stilicho returned to Italy without the victory he had gone to Greece for.

  Alaric continued his negotiations with Arcadius and was given, to the astonishment of the West, the rank of Master General of Eastern Illyricum. He became the lawful master of many of the cities he had so recently plundered. They were forced to turn over their armories to him.

  Night and day the forges worked to turn out arms for his warriors. Too often a Roman victory came because they were better equipped. That would be changed.

  Alaric would honor his agreements with Arcadius but the memory of past treachery was too fresh for him to put much faith in it. Now he would use the time honored ploy of playing one side against the other, all the time strengthening his armies at the expense of the two bickering empires.

  Alaric had ears inside the councils of the Senate. Gold could buy much. He knew they were plotting against him again. This time he would beat them to the punch and make the first strike. He would let Italy know what it was like to be treated harshly. Then perhaps Honorius would see reason.

  The armies of the Visigoths marched from Thessalonika through Pannonia into the Julian Alps. Alaric took his time, knowing his ranks would swell with swarms of volunteers who hated Rome. Over twenty thousand men came to him who were escaped slaves and wanted a chance to hit back at their masters.

  Stilicho was all that stood between Alaric and the heartland of Italy. Time and again Stilicho warded off thrusts by the Visigoths. He was shrewd and knew the mind of Alaric. He bought time with words and promises. Stilicho almost won a complete victory when he attacked the Christian Goths as they celebrated the festival of Easter. The victorious Romans took revenge on the camp of the Goths for the rape and pillage of Roman lands. Alaric withdrew back across the borders, but he would return.

  Another barbarian king, Radagaisus, had invaded Gaul at the head of two hundred thousand men from the tribes of Suevii, Vandals, Burgundians, and the Alani. His personal guard was that of twelve thousand warriors who had distinguished themselves in combat and wore their wounds as the Romans did their badges.

  Honorius left Gaul to its fate. Rome was too exhausted to do more than defend her own territorial borders. While Alaric rested, Radagaisus marched. He laid waste all before him, and crossed from Gaul into Italy with such speed that he had the city of Florence under siege before any effective resistance could be mounted against him. He was only a hundred and eighty miles from Rome, and all that stood in his way was a hastily gathered force under the command of Stilicho.

  Stilicho had waited until the barbarians were fully involved with their siege of Milan. He knew the effect that long sieges had, not only on the defenders, but also on an attacking force. He estimated correctly the amount of time it would take for the invaders to use up their supplies and their gleanings from the countryside, then he struck. He had managed to put together nearly thirty legions, of which a large number were from tribes still allied more to him personally than to Rome. He surrounded the weakened and hungry force of Radagaisus and took him prisoner. About a hundred thousand warriors managed to escape to the valleys between the Appomonnia and the Danube. There they licked their wounds and waited.

  Radagaisus was executed by order of Honorius, and Stilicho was, for the second time, awarded the title of Savior of Rome. Stilicho was the most respected Roman the Empire had, and even the barbarians from a dozen tribes paid him his due as a war chieftain and leader. He even made a treaty with Alaric, in which Alaric was again given command of Roman territory as a governor. This assured, for the time being anyway, a period of relative peace, in which the Roman forces could be rebuilt and new legions formed.

  Stilicho, unfortunately, became too popular. Honorius became jealous and listened to the lies told him by one Olympius, a young, ambitious toady who curried favor with Honorius by telling him what he most wanted to hear. Stilicho was driven to take refuge in a church in Ravenna where he claimed sanctuary, but even this was denied when Count Heraclian tricked Stilicho into coming outside the confines of the church. The Bishop of Ravenna had been assured by Heraclian that he only wanted to put Stilicho under arrest, but when Stilicho came forth, the Count immediately produced another document ordering his immediate execution. Stilicho went to his death nobly and bared his neck to the executioner's blade without any protest or plea for mercy.

  Rome's last great general was dead. There was no one left in the empire to hold back the gathering storm on the frontiers.

  Alaric was not long in coming. The death of Stilicho had removed the last great obstacle from his path and he moved into Italy, again gathering to him the warriors that escaped the slaughter of Radagaisus, and even the tribesmen that fought so valiantly for Rome under the leadership of Stilicho came to him and added another thirty thousand hard men to his standards.

  Casca and Vergix killed time in Ravenna on guard details and escort duty for the Emperor, who decided to stay behind the high walls of Ra
venna rather than return to Rome. He was much safer here than in the eternal city. . Alaric marched south, leaving Ravenna alone. He wasn't going to make the same mistake that Radagaisus had and tie down his men in a long exhausting siege. He was after the greater prize Rome itself and would not be denied it this time.

  City after city fell to him Aquileia, Altinum, Concordia and Cremona. He marched along the coast of the Adriatic, using the roads built by Rome to transport his own legions along the Falminian Way by passing Narni. The Goths pitched their tents outside the walls of Rome. At the court of Ravenna, Honorius continued his life style and luxury, but in his capital, the ravens of death had gathered.

  Casca knew what the word siege meant starvation and disease, hardship to such a degree that the average person would readily perform acts he would never have thought himself capable of.

  Nothing entered the gates of Rome. The food stopped and those inside came face to face with the worst nightmare in the six hundred year history of the city.

  Alaric required neighboring states to provide his forces with regular shipments of supplies and made no further moves. He was now going to try and consolidate his gains and take over actual control of what remained of the Roman Empire and he still accepted delegations from Honorius showing them courtesy and restraint in his demands. He knew that the counselors of Honorius were looking for any sign of weakness on his part and that wishful thinking and the need to reinforce the image would force them to try and take advantage of him.

  He waited, and it wasn't long in coming that Honorius, at the urging of Olympius, ordered six thousand of his Dalmatians to march to Rome, right through the lands occupied by the Goths and their allies. Casca and Vergix were ordered to go along with them as part of a small contingent of his Imperial Guard to show the Emperor's colors in Rome.

  They never reached the gates. The six thousand under the command of Valens died under the lances and blades of fifty thousand Goths and Huns. Only Valens with a hundred soldiers escaped the slaughter; the rest lay broken on the fields and the few survivors were being herded off to slave pens.

  Casca and Vergix marched with them. Vergix had a broken arm and Casca showed several cuts on his already well-marked hide. He had been knocked unconscious by a thrown axe that nearly split his helmet open and Vergix had stood over his body fighting like a madman until he was so exhausted he could barely stand. His arm was broken by a club wielding Vandal.

  When Vergix fell, he raised his face and called to Father Odin with what he thought would be his last breath. That was what saved him. The Vandal halted in midair what was to be Vergix's death blow.

  "Are you of the tribes?"

  Vergix avowed as how he was and that he was ready to die. A Goth officer rode up at that time and asked what the matter was and when told Vergix was German, he gave the Vandal orders to take him prisoner. Alaric wished for all men from the tribes found in Roman uniform to be brought to him. As Casca was unconscious and of fair enough coloring to pass, Vergix told them he, too, was of the tribes. Therefore, Casca was permitted to survive this day and was taken from the field chained by the neck, marching along with several hundred others, but kept apart from them.

  Casca's head throbbed for three days and spots of many colors danced before his eyes, partially from the knock on the head and partially from hunger. They were not fed until the tents of Alaric came into sight. They were hustled off to a separate pen where they were held with a number of other Goths, Vandals, Marcomanni, and Suevii that had been found bearing the arms of Rome. The rest of the captive legionnaires disappeared over a rise.

  In Rome, the daily dole of three pounds of bread was cut again and again, until there was nothing to be given out to the masses. The rich continued to feed themselves on delicacies and rare vintages for a time, believing that relief was sure to come soon, but the weeks rolled by and they too began to feel the gnawing fear of desperate hunger. Their wealth was spent on buying morsels to eat that they would have cast to their dogs before, and they bid over a piece of half decayed horse flesh as if it were a priceless work of art.

  Casca knew that some were even now feeding on the flesh of humans. And with starvation came disease and corpses filled the streets; the pungent odor of death hung over the city, heavy and nauseating.

  Pomiamus, Prefect of Rome, even considered resorting to spells and sacrifices that would bring down the barbarians, but the religious wail of the Christians claimed this was too close to profanation and the sacrifices never took place. Instead, when faith in the Emperor's promises failed, Pomiamus had no choice but to ask for mercy from the Gothic prince. When Pomiamus's delegation, led by Basilius, a Senator of ancient origin, was admitted into the presence of Alaric, they tried to bluff their way by declaring that if Alaric didn't want to give them fair and easy terms, he would have to face an armed populace in all its righteous rage.

  Alaric, knowing the true state of the inhabitants of the now less than immortal city, replied, "The thicker the hay, the easier it's mowed." He then explained the degree of his knowledge of the city and its capabilities to defend itself. Alaric watched the Romans, knowing he had them by the short hairs.

  He smiled as he told them that in exchange for not leveling the walls of Rome, all he wanted was all the gold and silver in the city, no matter who it belonged to, and everything of value that could be moved or torn down.

  The senator asked in despair, "Then what do you plan on leaving us?"

  Alaric laughed harshly. "Your lives."

  Alaric knew that he couldn't get everything he wanted, as much would be hidden that he could never recover and the time it would take to do a complete job of pillaging the city was more than he wanted to stay in the region. He needed new grounds to forage from. So he made his final offer and accepted a payment of five thousand pounds of gold, thirty of silver, four thousand robes of silk which were worth their weight in gold and three thousand pounds of pepper from India.

  Alaric was content for the moment, and as agreed, he gave the orders for his tribes to form, leaving the city walls, moving into the more prosperous countryside of Tuscany where he could set up his winter camp with the assurance there would be no starvation among his own people, which had grown by another forty thousand' barbarian slaves that had broken free from their masters and joined his standard. Also from the north, he received a reinforcement of Goths and Huns brought to him by Ataulf, the brother of his wife. Alaric had the spirit of a barbarian chieftain and the discipline of a Roman general of Caesar and his name was enough to cause fear the length of Italia, for none knew when he might choose to move again.

  Alaric was kept well informed in intelligence matters. When he received word that two tribesmen wearing the armor of the praetorians had been captured, he ordered them into his presence. Praetorians could tell him much about the inner workings of Honorius's court.

  Casca and Vergix were herded into Alaric's tent and forced to their knees until they were given permission to rise. Casca stood, still wearing the gold trimmed armors of the guards, as did Vergix.

  Alaric was silent for a moment watching them through his bright, clear blue eyes. He spoke first to Vergix, "How came you to be wearing the arms of Rome?"

  Vergix told him straightforwardly the story of his and Casca's day in the arena and the promise they had to give in order to be freed.

  Alaric nodded. "And have you been true to your oath of loyalty to him?"

  Vergix spoke firmly, with no quiver in his voice. "I have."

  Alaric turned to Casca, eyeing him up and down. "You are not of the tribes, though you have lighter hair and eyes than most Latins. There is a mannerism to you that speaks of Rome. The way you stand is that of a soldier of the legions. I know that you are not of my kinsmen because even here the tale of the fight you and this one made in the arena of Ravenna has come to be known. But no matter, did you also keep your oath of loyalty to Honorius?"

  Casca faced Alaric, answering him as one soldier would to another, "Yes, an oath is
not lightly broken, even if it is given under pressure."

  Alaric called for wine and indicated for the two to join him at a table. He liked the looks of these two. Pouring for all three, he spoke again, "If you had said otherwise, or if I believed you had lied, your heads would now be looking for their bodies. It is good that you were loyal while in the service of Honorius, weak and dishonorable though he may be. But now you are no longer under his authority, but mine. I have no desire to kill those that might be useful to me; therefore, if I grant you your lives, will you serve me as well?"

  Vergix took his time answering, hiding his thoughts behind his wine cup. A wrong answer meant death.

  Was he being tested again? He made up his mind. "Aye, Lord Alaric, I will serve. I can be of no use to Honorius now. You have my head in your hands and if you decide to take it, then surely I could be of no further use to the Romans. My oath was only given in order to save my life. I did that once and surely there could be no more dishonor if I did it again under the same circumstances."

  Alaric laughed deeply. "So be it, your head shall remain on your shoulders. And you, Roman, will you also swear fealty to me?"

  Casca knew his answer and didn't have to wait before making it. "No, lord, I cannot give you that oath." "And why not?" Alaric watched him.

  Casca stood at attention, picking his words carefully.

  "I know the days of Rome's greatness are passing, that she may never rise again, but still I cannot be a party to the slaughter of those of my own race though it must surely come if not this day then another. I know that a new dawn is rising and perhaps it is time for Rome to be allowed to die, but I have been her son too long to help kill her, even to stop the rot that has set in."

  Alaric was not displeased at the response. "That is a good answer, Roman, and I respect you for it. Loyalty to a lost cause may be foolhardy, but it is noble. You have both pleased me this evening and I give you your lives. You," indicating Vergix, "shall join my forces among your brothers. You," to Casca, "shall be allowed to live, but make no mistake. It shall be only as long as you don't interfere with my plans. If I kept you in chains you would not be able to help Rome. I would prefer to put bonds on you of a lighter kind. Will you give me your oath not to betray me? If you do, there will be no chains other than those of your own honor. But if you give your oath and lie, then not only you but your friend shall pay for it in a manner that shall have you screaming for weeks."