Full Circle chapter 22 second half

Once more the great Roman armies lined up in front of the walls of Rome to protect her from the barbaric horde and once more, Greyson looked at them and laughed at the sight. Turning to his aide he said, “And now mighty Rome comes once more to beg for mercy from us.” His eyes shifted towards the cloud of dust that galloped towards them away from the gates of Rome and towards his army.

So Rome had sent an emissary to negotiate with him, he thought as he watched the small band of men fast approaching. He shifted his weight and flung back his sleeves so that his hands would be free to fight if the need arose. He carefully checked his weapons, adjusting them as needed for both comfort and accessibility, then glanced once more at the men on horseback to check on their progress. He noted that they were close; he nudged his horse forwards to meet them with his aides on either side of him.

Gandor, his most trusted aide, rode on his left. He had ridden with both Darius and Greyson for years and had proven himself to be a trustworthy and loyal man who knew how to follow any command no matter what it might be. He glanced at Greyson noting the hardness in his features and knew that the Romans were certainly not going to be granted any mercy by his lord. Crossing himself as well as making a sign against any evil that might befall them , he finally broke the silence that had gathered upon them. “Are we going to sack it?” he asked as one who knew he had the right to speak his mind around his lord and was respected for it by Greyson.

Greyson raised a hand; all three of them pulled to a stop as did the Romans who kept their distance. “Wait and see what happens, Gandor. It will be up to them.” He looked over the five men that Rome had sent out to talk with them, noting softly under his breath as he passed a glance over them one by one, ”Senator, soldier, soldier, priest.” He hawked and spat on the ground by the Senator then raised his eyes to meet the Roman’s own steady gaze. He smiled but the smile lacked any kind of warmth.

The man who Greyson had assessed correctly as being a senator spoke up after clearing his throat. “Why do you come to Rome’s gates?”

Greyson looked back at his swollen army of men before replying. “To feed ourselves, Senator. Why else?” His hand gripped the pommel of his sword; the senator’s eyes caught the movement and followed it with his eyes. Again the cold smile appeared on his face.

“You and your men are ordered to disband immediately by order of your emperor. You have broken ties with Rome; Rome however, is willing to forgive your killing of it’s citizens as well as this whole uprising if you disband.” The senator looked over the man who he was talking to, noting the unkempt hair, the dirty face as if he had ridden some distance, the powerful arms, the hawk-like face. He was disgusted to be near him and wished again that someone else had been chosen to try to negotiate with the barbarians.

Sneering, Greyson replied as he lifted his sword to throat level, “Disband? That’s not likely. I tell you what, senator whoever you are, you go tell the Emperor that the Goths do not take orders from him, nor do we accept Rome’s generosity.” He glanced to his left and right at his aides then started to laugh, making the Romans uneasy. Turning to his aides, he translated from the Latin as to what had been said to him causing his aides to join in the laughter. They exchanged glances between themselves as the Goths continued to laugh. Without warning, Greyson rode up between them and slashed outwards with his sword at the senator’s exposed neck then rode off to peer at his handiwork as the senator’s head went sailing to one side.

For what seemed to be an eternity, the body sat on the horse’s back as dual fountains of blood spurted upwards from the severed arteries and veins in the neck as the last few heartbeats extinguished themselves. The sweet yet acrid smell of blood filled the air causing the horse to become wild-eyed in fright; one of the other Roman soldiers still in shock, grabbed onto it’s reins to keep it from bolting. Slowly, it toppled to the ground and lay in a pool of crimson that slowly grew as it seeped from the body.

Greyson dismounted, walked over to the head and picked it up by the hair then stared at the now frozen expression on the senator’s face. He looked upwards at the the remaining soldiers who had done nothing nor had raised a weapon when the man they swore to protect had been killed. Shielding his eyes, he walked over to Gandor and held out his hand.

Immediately a slightly bowl shaped wooden shield with metal bosses on it was handed over to him and without looking, he unceremoniously plopped the head onto it before handing it over to the one soldier who seemed to be the one most likely in charge now. “You tell Theodonius that he has twenty-four hours to either give me a reason not to burn Rome to the ground or his head will be upon a platter like this. Do you understand?”

The old soldier nodded and jutted his chin at the others to gather up the body. Once it had been slung over his horse, they rode off to tell the Emperor what the barbarian had said and of his ultimatum.

Greyson watched them depart before driving his sword into the ground, ever watchful of the mass of well-trained Legions that faced his own army. “Tonight we stay here. Give the orders.”