Chapter II: Into the Eternal City

"How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people! How is the mistress of the Gentiles become as a widow: the princes of provinces made tributary!" - Lamentations 1: 1

Ceaselessly, the steady ascent of the sun in the morning sky coupled with the continued barrage of catapults illuminated far more of the city than I had expected.

Or desired.

Carnage on an unknown scale greeted harshly my eyes. Buildings and components of what had been buildings, along with the living and the dead and everything in between was laid before my eyes as if it were a display of a masochist's artwork at play.

"I was not prepared for this," Alexius all but whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible against the cacophony of the sounds of battle.

"I don't think any of us were."

I continued to survey the battle, lifting myself slightly on my feet from where I was knelt atop the evacuated watchtower. Below us, not more than a few dozen feet from the base of the tower was what remained of what appeared to be the burned remains of a wooden bridge from the city to the scaffolding that lead to the trading docks on the river. I pointed towards the entryway to the bridge, indicating to Alexius that we should start our breach into the city there.

Backing up a few feet to the outer edge of the tower, I sprinted to the other side of the tower and leaped to the burned bridges remnants of the entryway, a dozen and a half feet below, tucking myself into a roll as I landed upon the charred and blackened wood. Alexius landed next to me, and as I extended a hand to help him up I noticed for the first time a body propped up against one of the railings that had at one time served as part of the bridges structure. It looked like it had held the ropes together from one side to the next. Laid around the figure strewn about in haphazard fashion were a semi-circle of half a dozen other bodies, some laying twisted and contorted upon each other, all still and unmoving in the rising sun.

As I knelt down next to the body and Alexius kept an eye out for the enemy, I noticed that it had sustained serious injuries on almost all major parts of his person. Striped crimson lacerations arched their way around his limbs, forming violent patterns and serving as framework reminders for the vestige life of their creators. He was clad in metallic battle-worn armor that was pitted and warped from the serious sustained blows to it. The horizontal plume on his metal helm indicated this was not simply a Legionnaire, but a centurion. I extended my hand to gently shut his eyes underneath his helm, and noticed the direction his hazel eyes had last seen, towards where the bridge had once lead towards the docks. Despite the parlor from the absence of life in his face, his eyes held a form of grim peaceful satisfaction, almost hopeful in their form. Why would he be satisfied over a burnt and desiccated bridge?

Sudden realization hit me as the hammer of what this man gave his life for came down like a weight in my throat. 

He was guarding the entrance way.

He had been the one to ignite the wooden bridge.

Material effects of what looked to be dozens of civilians dotted the docking area on the other side of the bridges span; pieces of clothing, shattered clay containers and children's stuffed toys. All dropped in the quick-paced retreat to the river as the centurion covered them and made his last stand.

"My God," I said, reaching for and closing the lids of the centurion as my words caught Alexius' attention.

He walked over, seeing what I had, and laid a sturdy hand upon the armored shoulder of the man. Sighing deeply, he noticed something that I had not in the fallen warriors gladius a few inches from his dying grasp. He delicately picked it up, and placed it in the hands of the centurion, closing his fingers reverently around it.

"Deus quiescere fratri tuo," he said quietly. 

A piercing scream broke our attention from the centurion and immediately we turned with hands on sword hilts towards the sound of the affront. Barely visible in the still dawning distance we saw that the Visigoths had begun going door to door on the outer edges of the city, not simply content to conquer military targets but to claim anything of value that they could.

We sprinted quickly towards the Visigoths, noticing that the scream had come not from them but from a woman, barely more than sixteen and clutching what must have been more valuable to her than her life as she refused to hand it over to the barbarian accosters.

Mid-sprint we both drew our swords, the double-edged weapon's weight reassuring us of the weight of what needed to happen. We made it within twenty feet of the abusers before they finally took notice. One of the group of the three violently shoved the woman against the wall of the house they were next to, eliciting a quick and short gasp from the woman as she slumped towards the ground unconscious, hands still taut around the object was holding.

One of the barbarians, donned richly in steel mail and appearing as if the leader of the group charged first against us, the other two not far behind. He drew his arms back, hands gripping tightly a sharpened battle axe that were so popular among the Visigoths. Before he could follow through with his swing I rammed him at full speed into his chest, left shoulder connected squarely with his chin and causing him to lose his grip on the axe. Before he could regain his grasp I quickly circled on my feet and swung with a wide arc my gladius, piercing the air at full strength it sank deeply into his mail armor causing him to stagger backwards and lose his grip entirely on the axe. Raising my booted right leg I kicked forcefully at his torso and freed my sword from his chest as a cavity formed itself where his now worthless armor had been. Seeing a reflection of one of the barbarians behind me in his helmet I dropped my knees as the long-sword of one of them swung wildly over my head. It struck home into the same place my gladius had only moments before called home, creating an even wider gash as the Visigoth leader began to fall to the ground, life drained.

The attacker had not expected to land his sword onto his former leader and as the suction created from the blow held tightly onto the long-sword he stumbled, stubbornly refusing to let go of his grasp from the sword. Taking advantage of the barbarian's folly I rammed my own sword into armor-less torso.

"Rest well in Judgment, Visigoth" I said as he joined his leader on the ground.

Alexius drew himself up beside me, breathing only slightly heavier from his dispatching of the remaining Visigoth. Quickly we remembered the unconscious woman and rushed to her side as she leaned haphazardly against the wall to the home.

Her head was craned at an almost unnatural angle and Alexius brought both his hands up and cradled her head, gently wiping the ashes of a burning Rome from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"My lady, you're okay now, no one will hurt you again," I called out to her gently, hoping that the blow she sustained earlier was nothing to severe.

She stirred in Alexius' hands as she brought up her own and the object she was holding reflexively to her chest as she awoke.

"It's okay, everything's all right, " I reassured her gently, making myself keenly aware to keep both of my hands within her sight to show her I was holding no weapons. Her eyes fluttered open and her brown eyes attempted focus lazily onto my face as she tried to awake fully.

"Tried.....tried to run....couldn't run....caught me...." She managed, throat parched from the combination of the heat from the fires scattered throughout Rome and her earlier frantic screams. I took my pouch of water and placed it gingerly above her mouth, and seeing it now she allowed me to give her enough water for her to speak easier.

"Thank you," she said as her eyes focused and hovered between myself and Alexius.

She opened her hands slightly and we saw finally what she had been so unwilling to let go of.

A small piece of jewelry, fastened to a leather cord was tightly packed into her small hands. The pendant of what I now understood to be a necklace was a miniaturized metallic version of a gladius, an exact replica of what I carried on my back but on a smaller scale. The precisely detailed miniature, awarded to Roman Legionaries for being wounded in battle by a foreign enemy, looked aged and worn as if it had seen multiple long campaigns after it's awarding.

"It was my fathers while he lived, he was wounded in a battle and was given it," she said as she looked down upon the costly award.

She took the necklace and wrapped its leather cord around her neck and allowed Alexius to help her up onto her feet. Unsteady at first, she quickly gained her balance and continued, "Thank you. I didn't know what to do. Is there somewhere safe, anywhere safe, left in the city?"

"We weren't alone in getting here. There is a group of Legionaries making their way below the Aventine Hill near an old collegia. It's behind us, the bridge is out but there's a trail you can follow that will take you along a longer route. As long as you remain there and stay quite you should be fine. Here, take this" I said as I handed her what remained of the water pouch I had. "I've got another one. You need it more than I at the moment I fear. Go safely and we'll cover you. God be with you."

She looked again to the two of us, piercing dark eyes displaying more gratitude than words ever could and she turned quickly on her feet and began to quietly make her way towards Aventine Hill.

We watched her go for a bit and turned around ourselves and began to make our way deeper in to the city, the sounds of battle exponentially growing in intensity and fervor.

As we made our way past the rows of homes we noticed a particular part of the city that the catapults seemed to be focusing more acutely on, nearer to the middle of the city. Great hulks of flaming materials of pitched tar wrapped around immense rocks crashed heavily into the structure where the last defenders were taking their stand.

"That must be where the remnants of the cities defenders are," Alexius said, his face contorting in disgust at the wanton destruction of the scene.

"Then that's exactly where we're going."

As we continued to move closer, we could see archers and other bowman deftly cycling through their shots, taking one round in one rampart and spinning around to the safety of a bulwark before they themselves could be struck by the enemies' archers. Inaudible but still visible Roman commanders gestured resolutely with arms fully extended to the valiant last defenders, indicating where to focus their fire. I could see a small but steadily moving stream of civilians making their way upwards to the gate of the colossal building, now very visibly distinguished as the Western Emperors palace. Legionaries fended off attackers, selflessly sacrificing themselves and hurling side by side with their comrades towards the enemy and allowing the civilians to make it into the broad gate of the palace.

We picked up our speed as we drew closer and the details of the desperate struggle began to become painfully more clear. The Visigoths had all but enveloped the palace, the only portion not filled by them the slender area where the civilians had made their way into the palace, though that itself was quickly filling in as the gate began to close.

We stopped about three hundred feet from the siege, ducking between a toppled statue of what looked to be one of the former emperors in far better times.

We hadn't been noticed yet, thankfully, the enemy focusing all of their attention on claiming their prize. I scanned what I could see of the perimeter, trying to see an avenue of approach.

"We're to late," said Alexius. "They've already surrounded the palace".

"Very astute," I said.

Without retorting but with a face that more than revealed that he had thought of one, he grabbed at a leather satchel attached to his waist. He unlatched it and drew out a topographical map of the city given to us by the Order to aid in our mission. He perused it and soon found where we were and laid it out on the ground so that we could both see it. He pointed with his index finger to our location, then using his other hand indicated another location nearby.

"There. It's a tunnel dug by Nero in case of a coup or attack. Didn't do much to save him but his paranoia might just be our only chance to get into the palace," he uttered as he looked up.

Finding what he was searching for, he nodded towards a nondescript building a few hundred feet to our East. "That building there, it's a decoy. Hollow inside. That's our ticket in."

I nodded in acknowledgement as he rolled up the map and placed it back in the satchel. The building and the route to get there was dangerously close to the perimeter of the barbarians, and though I felt confident in both of our fighting abilities a scripture verse about not tempting the Lord flashed vividly in my mind's eye.

"All right. Well then. A stealth approach it is. Though I'm sure we'll be found out as we pass by the dimmest of Visigoths from the clanking and clapping of your armor," I said.

"At least I still have mine."

"I could be at the bottom of the river still wearing it"

"Be gentle with my hopes Lucus, we're not supposed to desire such things", a friendly smirk finding itself once again on his face.

I clasped my hand on his armored shoulder, laughing quietly and looking towards the route we were set to take.

"We can do it. There's always hope. We've been through worse. Remember Syria?"

"I remember having to be pulled from a sand trap that I had blissfully forgotten about until now. Thanks for that."

"Anytime."

Swords in hand, we stood and made our way through this tunnel of the Mad Emperor.