Chapter 21

 

Imperial Palace, March 423

 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK, RIA?” Theo unrolled a sheaf of plans across her worktable for the triumphal column she proposed to be erected in Hebdomon. The Persian War may have ended in a stalemate, but her brother needed to be seen as victorious in a holy war. The message of victory on coins wasn’t enough. They needed a more tangible and impressive representation of God’s favor. She chose the Hebdomon site because troops rallied and trained there. The column would greet them as they assembled and watch over their deployment. “How tall?” She drew her finger along the image.

“The architect has identified a piece of granite which can be carved into a single column over fifty feet high.”

“Excellent!” Pulcheria put that page aside to study the drawings for a bronze equestrian statue of her brother to top the column. The raised sword made him look appropriately heroic; however… “May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.” Theo replied.

“Sheath the sword and hold a cross. We want the people to know that God gives us victory.”

“I think that is implied in the inscription.” His smile broadened. “I’m sure you will be pleased.” Theo pulled a sheet from the bottom showing a base carved with angels, the inscription written in the margin:

 

Our lord, the gracious and fortunate Theodosius Augustus

Commander-in-chief, very mighty, triumphant

Over barbarian nations, always and everywhere

Victor, through the vows of his sisters, having pacified

The Roman world, rejoices on high.

 

“Victor through the vows of his sisters.” A warm rush of pride and gratitude suffused her body. Pulcheria smiled at her brother—a smile that brightened her plain features to almost make her pretty. “Yes, Brother, I am pleased. When will it be completed? We must plan for the dedication.”

They barely started to go over the details when Helion rushed into the room, flustered and out of breath.

“Master Helion, what troubles do you bring us?” Theo raised an eyebrow in imitation of his sister.

“Augustus. Augusta.” The Master of Offices bowed to each. “We have urgent dispatches from your co-ruler in Ravenna.”

Pulcheria and Theo exchanged startled glances.

“What disaster has befallen our uncle this time?” Theo asked.

“Emperor Honorius has exiled his sister Placidia from Ravenna and remands her into your custody, Augustus. She will be arriving soon with her children.”

“What is the nature of her crimes, that she is banished from Ravenna?” Pulcheria asked. “Are we to keep our aunt in close confinement?”

“General Castinus, the Western Emperor’s closest advisor, accused her of treason. Specifically of colluding with the Goths to overthrow her brother and put her son on the throne.”

“That demands the death penalty!” Theo frowned.

“Your aunt evidently put up a good defense. Her enemies at court were only able to persuade Honorius Augustus to banishment.” Blood crept up Helion’s neck, staining his cheeks. “There were also rumors of…a…delicate nature.”

“There are always rumors.” Pulcheria snorted. “Our agents at Ravenna have been reporting for months that the emperor acted inappropriately toward his sister, once her husband died. Her personal guards have been brawling in the streets to quell such scurrilous insults.” She sat back, chewing her lower lip. “No. This feels more like Placidia rejected her brother’s advances and lost her influence over him as a result.” She shook her head. “We’ll learn soon enough. Does our aunt travel by land or sea?”

“Sea.”

Pulcheria looked out her windows at the gray March skies and roiling waves on the Propontis Sea. “I’ll pray for her safe arrival. The captains report bad storms this spring.” She turned back to Helion. “Anything else?”

“No, Augusta.”

“Then you are dismissed, Master Helion.” Theo nodded.

Her aunt would bring another raft of complications to the court. Not least among them, her claim for her son Valentinian as heir and co-ruler of Western Rome upon Honorius’ death. More relatives to deal with. Pulcheria sighed. God give me strength.

 

*****

 

April 423

 

PULCHERIA, THEODOSIUS, AND ATHENAIS sat in the formal Daphne audience hall to receive their western relatives. Placidia and her two children arrived at the court, pale from the sea voyage. A trumpet blast announced their arrival and a herald read out their names and honors for the assembled court.

Her aunt flushed when the title of Augusta was omitted from the various honors given to her, but she had obviously dressed ambiguously, so as not to offend, wearing a dark blue silk gown embroidered with gold thread in swirling leaf patterns, topped with a plain imperial purple cape, faced with red silk and held in place with a gold fibula in the shape of a wolf’s head. A gift from her barbarian first husband? Pulcheria wondered. Strands of pearls threaded her aunt’s upswept dark curly hair in a way that suggested a diadem but didn’t quite usurp that prerogative reserved for Augusti.

What had she expected? Pulcheria kept a blank face. We made clear our rejection of her elevation to Augusta. Theo hadn’t consulted with Honorius regarding her own or his wife’s titles, but they were women and couldn’t rule. Placidia’s elevation came with her husband’s and son’s. Honorius should have consulted with his co-ruler before adding another emperor to the mix or establishing an heir other than her brother.

“Welcome to our court, Aunt,” Theodosius offered, as Placidia and her children walked the long room under neutral smiles of the full court.

Pulcheria assessed this woman with the notorious and tragic past: taken from Rome in the barbarian sack thirteen years ago, married to the Gothic King, widowed within two years when an assassin struck him down. Rumors circulated that Placidia personally took her own bloody revenge. Pulcheria did not credit them. Surely, this slender, dignified woman could not have committed vicious murder?

As the family reached the steps to the dais, Pulcheria said, without offering a seat, “I trust you had a felicitous journey?”

“We had one violent storm, but God saw us safely to your shore.” Placidia held her head high, returning her niece’s gaze with an equally frank stare. “Thank you for your concern.”

“I have found, when God is gracious, it is appropriate we honor him in some way.” Pulcheria gave her a chilly smile.

“I vowed to build a church when I return to Ravenna,” Placidia answered dryly. “And I intend never to tempt His good will with another sea voyage.”

“A church is an appropriate recompense.” Pulcheria nodded approval.

Of course, Athenais was first to rise and greet her aunt with a kiss. “I am so pleased you and the children landed safely. I’m looking forward to your company.” She took Placidia’s arm with a genuine smile. “Why don’t we retire to a less public place, and have some refreshment? I’m sure you are fatigued after your journey.”

Pulcheria frowned. Already the power shuffle begins.

“I’ll join you when I’ve finished my audience.” Theodosius nodded to Placidia but did not rise. “My sister and wife will take good care of you and your children, Aunt.”

Ruffled at being so obviously dismissed, Pulcheria led the way to an austere antechamber. Its multi-colored marble walls bare of paintings; no statues adorned the corners or carpets the floors. Pulcheria positioned herself at the head of the room, on a plain wooden chair.

Athenais sat on a cushioned divan and patted the seat beside her. “Join me, Aunt. You will allow me to call you that, won’t you?”

The younger woman’s voice and manner exuded the feeling that Placidia’s needs and interests were close to her heart. Yes, Athenais was making her move. Doesn’t she have enough allies in the court?

Placidia removed her purple cape, which a servant immediately whisked away, and accepted Athenais’ offer.

Pulcheria waved the children over. “Come, let me look at you.”

They approached but did not bow. Pulcheria was torn between admiration in the way they stood up under her scrutiny and annoyance at their disrespect. Four-year-old Valentinian shuffled his feet, stopping when his older sister Honoria pinched him. Both were good-looking children with their mother’s dark curly hair and large brown eyes. The girl stared at Pulcheria with frank curiosity and a faint frown.

“Do you have tutors? How advanced are you in your subjects?” Pulcheria queried.

The girl’s eyes grew moist. “We had to leave everyone behind.” She firmed her quivering chin and reported, “I know my Greek and Latin letters and can read some. I like history best. T-tutor was teaching me sums and differences.”

Pulcheria raised her eyebrows at the child’s self-control. That bodes well for her future.

“And your brother?”

“Val—” she nodded at the little boy, shifting his weight from foot to foot, as if needing to relieve himself “—is just starting to learn his letters. Mother is teaching me to ride. Val is too little.”

“Am not!” Valentinian muttered. He kicked at his sister’s ankle. “Ouch!” he cried as she pinched him again.

“Children!” Placidia jumped up, grabbing each by the arm. “Apologize to your cousin for your poor behavior.”

Both children bowed, mumbling an apology.

“Very good.” Pulcheria nodded. “You may go to the nursery.”

A servant stepped forward to take their hands. The children looked to their mother. At her nod, they went quietly with the young woman.

Placidia’s face transitioned from tight annoyance to affectionate worry as she watched them go. Then she turned back to Pulcheria. “My apologies, as well, Niece. They are fatigued from the journey.”

“Understood. We will find them new tutors. Have they started religious instruction?”

“No. They attend private services in our apartments.” Placidia frowned. “I think them too young for formal instruction.”

“I began my studies when I was Valentinian’s age.” She thought of Father Marcus with a rush of warmth. Maybe? No, he was content in his monastery. “I will consult with Bishop Atticus for a suitable candidate.”

Placidia’s jaw tightened, but she did not object.

“Sit, Aunt. Have some refreshment.” Athenais drew Placidia back to the divan. “You must be fatigued as well.”

Servants brought food and drink—hearty red wine, fruit, and honey cakes. Pulcheria indulged in her usual water. Placidia nibbled at a date stuffed with honey and nuts.

“Aunt, what brings you so precipitously to our shores?” Athenais asked, as trivial conversation about children and the weather wound down.

Pulcheria leaned forward to hear Placidia’s side of the story. She had yet to decide whether it would be in Theo’s best interest to back Placidia or General Castinus in their bids to influence Honorius.

Placidia looked up from her wine. Dark smudges under the older woman’s eyes attested to her trials. “My brother is increasingly prey to suspicions inflamed by those ministers closest to him. Given his current state of mind, I felt it best to remove my children and myself to a safer residence.”

Pulcheria’s face puckered in a worried frown. “Is your brother’s rule stable in the West? Do we need to send troops, or a trusted minister?”

“There is no need for intervention—at this time. My brother’s vacillations are of a more personal nature. General Castinus manufactured a plot and lured my retainers into an unwise action in order to discredit me. He convinced Honorius I did not have his interests at heart.”

“This breach between brother and sister disturbs me. You have no family but each other. It is not seemly to have this disharmony.”

Pulcheria noted Placidia’s carefully schooled face. If she was as competent as Pulcheria believed, her aunt knew that all was not as harmonious in the eastern court as they pretended. It remained to be seen if Placidia wished to exploit that fact.

Her aunt set aside her wine. “Our circumstances are somewhat different, Niece. You are older than your brother. You shared many experiences, guided him in his youth, built trust between you. Honorius is my elder by several years, and a half-brother. We lived apart most of our lives. During these last years, we worked closely, but rumors and falsehoods easily lead him astray. It is my understanding my oldest brother—your father—had a similar temperament and was much influenced by your late mother.”

Pulcheria gave her a sharp look. “Males of our line do seem to benefit from the gentle guidance of the females.” It had been a shock when Pulcheria discovered the contempt in which her late father, the Emperor Arcadius, had been held by his court. From her discreet inquiries, she learned people in power found her father more dull-witted than his younger brother Honorius. His persistent drunkenness after his wife’s death did not improve that impression. Thank God Theo and I take after our mother—at least in intelligence!

“Pulcheria is modest.” Athenais set down a goblet she had barely touched. “She is Theodosius’ wisest and closest advisor. Everyone knows, if they wish something done by the Emperor, they must come to Pulcheria.”

Pulcheria shot Athenais a glance. A rather extravagant compliment. What was the girl playing at?

“It is well known how ably Pulcheria ruled during her brother’s minority.” Placidia nodded toward her niece. “Your charity to the poor and devotion to God and your brother are admired throughout the empire.”

Pulcheria looked towards the heavens—in this case, a ceiling painted dark blue with gold trim. “God put us on earth as His Viceroys. It is through His will that we rule, and we show our devotion through good works and fair governance.”

“A most admirable mission, which I would like to duplicate in the West, but sadly must bide my time until my brother can be persuaded to the right course.” Placidia suppressed a yawn. “I am fatigued after our journey. My residence is barely fit to live in. I slept poorly last night.”

“How thoughtless of me.” Athenais put a hand to her mouth. “You must stay with us until your palace is properly furnished and staffed.” She waved over a servant. “Tell my chamberlain to prepare the west suite.” She turned back to Placidia. “The rooms will be ready shortly. Let’s go to the nursery so you can reassure your children.”

Placidia rose. “God’s grace on you, Pulcheria.”

“And you, Aunt.”

Placidia followed Athenais out the door, leaving Pulcheria to her thoughts. Another strong woman in the palace. Will she be ally, foe, or something unknown?