Heir of Aurelian

Weeks had passed since Stilicho’s death and currently Marcellus was leading a march of his soldiers, who were clad in their new and shiny equipment that had recently been delivered from Rome. To Marcellus and his army of limitanei, it was just another day at the border of the civilized world.

However, as Marcellus and his soldiers were on a march a few kilometers away from Castra regina, they encountered a troublesome situation. An army of thirty thousand men had marched their way from the Italian heartland and into his borders completely unannounced. When Marcellus scouts reported this to him, he was truly flabbergasted. He could not fathom who they were, or how they appeared in his lands.

Regardless of who these men were, or why they had entered his lands, Marcellus had no choice but to intercept them. After all, an army of this size could cause significant damage to the people in the villages. Thus, he used the mountainous terrain of Raetia to his advantage and set up his army in a narrow pass.

The Roman limitanei lied in wait within the mountain pass some time before the unknown force arrived. Upon seeing such a well-armed group of Roman soldiers blocking the way into Noricum, the man in charge of this foreign force was perplexed, that is, until he gazed upon the face of the Roman General.

It was a face he was all too familiar with, and if it was any other time, he would be quite pleased with such a chance encounter. However, things were not so simple right now, and he did not know if Marcellus would turn on him in the next moment. Still, it was better to attempt a peaceful negotiation, thus a bitter smile formed on the man’s face as he walked ahead of his army and approached the young Roman General.

“Marcellus, you’re still alive? I thought for sure they would have claimed your head by now, what with everything that has happened in the Capital you should be that bastard’s first target!”

Marcellus was just as shocked to see Sarus as he was to see him. As far as he was aware, this man and his Foederati should be in Ravenna beneath Stilicho’s command. Not to mention the words he spoke. Something didn’t feel right about this situation, and Marcellus spoke in a cautious tone as he questioned the gothic chieftain in front of him.

“Sarus, what are you doing in my lands? If you have turned your back on Rome and have come to join Alaric, I advise you to think carefully. You know what Stilicho will do when he finds out you have abandoned your post to aid the enemy!”_.

Upon hearing such a threat, Sarus stared at Marcellus in disbelief. His thoughts escaped from his lips as he uttered the words in astonishment.

“You didn’t hear?”

Judging from the Expression on Sarus’ face, something serious must have happened. Marcellus was right to be cautious. He rested his hand on his hilt, in fear that Sarus might try something as he further interrogated the man.

“Hear what?”

Sarus merely shook his head as he informed Marcellus of everything that had happened in his absence.

“Stilicho is dead… Honorius had him executed for treason. I’m surprised you’re still alive. They were supposed to have dispatched an army to claim your head. Have you been here in Raetia this entire time?”

Marcellus could hardly believe what he was hearing. He felt as if he had entered another reality where nothing made sense. He stammered as he tried to come to terms with what Sarus had told him.

“S.. St… Stilicho is dead?”

A grim expression was on Sarus’ face as he continued to explain what was going on in the Empire.

“Stilicho is dead, and that bastard Olympius ordered the executions of our wives and children. Blood was shed in the streets, unprovoked, and it is because of that we have sworn to gain our vengeance. We march to Noricum to join Alaric so that we may raise Ravenna to the ground!”

The soldiers of Marcellus’ army were in just as much disbelief as Marcellus when they heard these words. None of this made any sense. How could such a thing happen? Marcellus was in shock. He stumbled backward as he heard the words that Sarus spoke. Just what madness had occurred in the Capital while he was tasked with protecting the border?

He gazed upon the Gothic foederati in disbelief. He could feel their anger, it was clear that they were prepared to attack at any moment. The only thing keeping them from pouncing at the Romans in front of them was the orders that Sarus had given them. Marcellus could tell by the hatred in their eyes that everything Sarus had said was true.

It took him a few moments to process through his shock and grief. However, he knew now was not the time to break down and cry. Instead, he had to take action. Having fought back the tears that welled up in his eyes, Marcellus gazed upon the Gothic Foederati and made a desperate gamble.

“If what you say is true, then I will not stop you from entering Noricum. However, you all know me. Many of you have served beneath me in the past, and others know my reputation. If Flavius Stilicho has been executed at the behest of the Emperor Honorius under false charges, then the emperor has betrayed Rome and its people.

I will not pretend like we are friends. However, there is a bond between us. You know that if you march into Noricum and swear your allegiance to Alaric, he will use you all as fodder. After all, you are the Goths who previously sided with Rome. Alaric has no siege weapons. Even with you by his side, he can not penetrate the swamps that surround Ravenna, let alone the city.

If it is vengeance that you desire, then I shall give it to you. Swear your service to me, fight under my banner as my foederati, and I promise you I will not only deliver you the head of that bastard Honorius, but those of everyone who is responsible for the deaths of your loved ones!

You know what I am capable of, and you know I deliver on my promises. Before you march into Noricum, think carefully about who it is that is most capable of fulfilling your vengeance. Men of Rome, move aside, and let these warriors choose their own path.”

After saying this, the army of Roman limitanei parted in the center, allowing a gap for the Gothic foederati to pass through. However, not a single warrior stepped forward. Instead, they were waiting for their leader’s response. Sarus gripped the shaft of his spear tightly while gritting his teeth.

He wanted nothing more than to exit the service of Rome, but he knew Marcellus well. If he and his men stepped foot into Noricum, they would have to fight their way through the ranks of Marcellus’ soldiers in order to get their vengeance. Victory would be assured, but it would be a bloody battle.

Ultimately, Sarus decided to speak with the members of his tribe about what they planned to do. He took a step back from where Marcellus stood and discussed his options with the leaders of his people. One of them had a worried expression on his face as he question Sarus’ thoughts.

“You’re not really thinking of agreeing to his request, are you? Sarus, you can not trust the word of Roman!”

However, Sarus was unconvinced and instead spoke up on Marcellus’ behalf.

“What about the word of a Roman who was raised by a Vandal?”

It was true that Marcellus was raised by Stilicho, a man who was half Vandal. It was because of this that the gothic foederati had such respect for the man. After realizing that perhaps Marcellus would keep his word, the thirty thousand men squabbled among themselves. Until finally, a consensus was decided. Sarus stepped forward once more and addressed Marcellus, who stood with a confident expression on his face.

“If we follow you, we demand justice for our families. Everyone who took part in our the slaughter of our loved ones must be handed over to us. Regardless of their position in Rome!”

Marcellus nodded his head and spoke a single word.

“Done…”

Upon hearing his conditions met, Sarus nodded his head in silence. After doing so, he knelt down and unsheathed his blade, offering it in service to Marcellus. He made a shocking declaration as he did so.

“I offer to you Dux- No… Emperor Titus Claudius Marcellus, my sword, and that of my people as Foederati of the Western Roman Empire, and its true ruler! For the Emperor!”

Upon seeing this, the Roman limitanei and the Gothic Foederati together lifted their weapons into the air and chanted the phrase.

“For the Emperor!”

The young general could only sigh in defeat. He had never desired, nor expected himself to be proclaimed Emperor. However, Honorius had forced his hand. By unjustly executing Stilicho, and laying false charges against himself, Marcellus could only respond with open rebellion.

Marcellus had no way of knowing this, but Honorius’ forces intercepted the letter that was supposed to be delivered to him. Despite Stilicho’s last words to his killer, he had written a letter to Marcellus, pleading with him to flee the empire.

In this letter was a request to not divide Rome into further chaos. Unfortunately, this letter was now lost to history, and Marcellus had learned of his godfather’s death in an unexpected manner. In doing so, he had raised a rebellion against an already fractured Empire.