5th of August 476 AD

  Romulus stood quietly in the shadows, flanked closely by Dux Flavianus, Magnus, and his father, Orestes, near the small, hidden side gate just beyond Porta Flaminia. The twilight cast long shadows, cloaking the men in a thin veil of darkness. It was an uneasy hour, caught between waning daylight and the uncertain embrace of night. The evening breeze whispered through the grass and stirred the dust underfoot, a subtle reminder that time was slipping by.

  Out beyond the walls, across the half-drained moat, Crassus’s weary levies had been laboring since morning—digging trenches to drain the waters. Romulus had given strict orders to cease any harassment of these workers as soon as the sun began to sink. He couldn't risk harming the messenger who was now due to arrive any moment.

  Flavianus shifted restlessly. The normally stoic dux was visibly uneasy with this clandestine meeting, his hand frequently resting on the pommel of his sword. "Trusting Lepidus and his schemes is dangerous," he murmured, breaking the heavy silence.

  "True," Orestes replied coolly. "But the senator has always been a pragmatist. He senses that Crassus’s alliance with Odoacer has turned against them. Lepidus is not a fool—he’s merely doing what every senator does: looking out for his own interests first."

  "Perhaps." Flavianus shrugged skeptically, glancing towards Romulus. "But what assurance do we have that this is not a trap?"

  Magnus, standing close beside the emperor, offered a quiet reassurance. "If it is a trap, it will fail. I have men positioned discreetly. No assassin or betrayer will pass through without notice."

  Romulus nodded softly, his eyes fixed on the small gate ahead. He felt nervous, anxious, yet strangely hopeful. The mere fact that Lepidus was reaching out suggested Crassus's grip was weakening. The senators’ ranks were fracturing; perhaps this would hasten their end.

  Yet the young emperor was cautious. He understood too well the fickleness of senators.

  "Magnus," Romulus said gently, "the messenger—when he arrives—he is to be thoroughly searched and kept at a distance."

  Magnus inclined his head respectfully. "Yes, Caesar. No harm will come to you."

  As if on cue, a shadow stirred beyond the wall. A muffled exchange of words followed between the guards posted near the hidden gate, and moments later, a slender figure slipped cautiously inside, raising empty hands in a gesture of peace.

  Magnus approached immediately, inspecting the newcomer thoroughly for weapons. Romulus studied the messenger curiously from a distance, struck immediately by the unexpected appearance. He was young, perhaps only twenty or so—fair-skinned, with soft, delicate features that were almost womanly. His curly dark hair framed a graceful face with sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything at a glance. Greek, certainly, Romulus thought, noting his fine clothes and smooth movements. The youth's confident demeanor and charming expression radiated assurance rather than intimidation.

  Magnus finally nodded approval after a detailed search. He then returned swiftly to Romulus's side. "He's unarmed and says he’s been sent personally by Senator Lepidus. He calls himself Athanasios, a Greek freedman in Lepidus’s employ."

  Romulus raised an eyebrow, observing the Greek messenger with careful suspicion. "Ask him his message, Magnus. But do not yet allow him to approach."

  As Magnus moved back toward the messenger, Orestes gave a cynical chuckle. "Lepidus sends us a pretty Greek to deliver his betrayal. How fitting."

  Flavianus frowned slightly. "An attractive face to distract us, perhaps?"

  "Possibly," Orestes remarked dryly. "But Lepidus rarely wastes resources. This boy must be clever."

  Romulus said nothing, watching Magnus converse quietly with Athanasios. He observed closely: the messenger spoke rapidly, hands gesturing eloquently, words seeming to flow smoothly from his lips. Magnus remained alert, listening carefully, occasionally nodding.

  "How trustworthy do you judge Lepidus’s motives?" Flavianus asked Orestes quietly, his tone sober.

  "I judge only his self-interest," Orestes replied with a dismissive wave. "His loyalties shift with the breeze. But right now, his self-interest may align with ours. I imagine he's frightened—Crassus’s ambitions are unraveling, and senators like Lepidus are rats scurrying to escape a sinking ship."

  Romulus turned to them sharply. "Whether he is sincere or not, Lepidus has already weakened Odoacer and Crassus’s position by warning us about the last assault. Let us first hear what he offers before we condemn or praise him."

  Magnus returned to Romulus’s side, leaning in closely as he delivered the messenger’s words in a lowered voice. Romulus focused intently, reading Magnus’s steady gaze carefully.

  "Caesar," Magnus began, his tone measured, "the messenger conveys Lepidus’s gratitude. He hopes the warning about the recent assault demonstrated the sincerity of his intentions. He emphasized repeatedly that what he and his fellow senators seek is merely your friendship and goodwill—nothing more."

  Orestes emitted a low chuckle, eyes glittering cynically in the gathering darkness. "Friendship and goodwill. How delightfully flowery," he murmured. "Lepidus has always had a poet’s tongue when his neck is at stake."

  Magnus hesitated briefly, glancing toward Orestes but quickly returning his attention respectfully to Romulus. "Athanasios has also delivered new intelligence: Odoacer has revised his strategy. Beginning tomorrow, he plans relentless skirmishing against the walls throughout the day, minor yet constant attacks to drain our soldiers’ stamina and morale. At night, he intends to dispatch small, highly trained assault groups under the cover of darkness—elite men tasked specifically with disrupting our rest, keeping the city perpetually fatigued with noise, drums, and unexpected attacks."

  Flavianus frowned deeply, immediately exchanging a concerned glance with Romulus. "Attrition," he growled softly. "It’s a sound tactic. Odoacer’s not a fool. He knows well that a tired defender is as dangerous to himself as he is to the enemy."

  Magnus nodded grimly, continuing, "The messenger also said something very specific about our eastern defenses. Odoacer plans to send a small elite force across the river—men trained to swim swiftly through deep and dangerous currents under the cover of darkness. He hopes these men will infiltrate the inner city or at least wreak havoc inside our perimeter."

  Romulus exhaled slowly, absorbing the implications. The eastern river’s fast current and treacherous waters had always been considered a natural, almost impregnable barrier. Odoacer was growing bolder. His heart quickened slightly, anxiety tightening in his chest.

  "What do you think, Flavianus?" Romulus asked calmly, masking his unease. "Can such an infiltration succeed?"

  Flavianus, ever composed, considered thoughtfully before responding. "Risky, Caesar. Extremely risky, even suicidal, perhaps. But Odoacer has at his disposal men loyal enough—or desperate enough—to attempt it. The river is dangerous, but not impassable, especially if these soldiers are truly trained for such a crossing. And if even a handful succeed, the chaos they could create behind our lines might cost dearly."

  Orestes crossed his arms, clearly irritated but intrigued. "Odoacer’s proving annoyingly inventive. The Germans have always preferred brute force—this subtlety feels unsettlingly Roman. I suspect Gundobad or one of his Germanic chieftains advised him on this. They have a certain reckless daring about them."

  Magnus nodded silently in agreement, his posture wary and thoughtful. Romulus watched him closely, knowing that Magnus was already mentally redeploying guards, considering countermeasures.

  After several tense heartbeats, Magnus finally broke the silence. "Caesar," he said carefully, "Athanasios requests permission to approach you personally. He insists that Lepidus instructed him to deliver the last part of his message only to your own ears."

  Flavianus immediately stiffened, his expression wary. "That could easily be an attempt to bring the assassin closer."

  Magnus, though cautious, seemed less concerned. "He has been searched thoroughly and poses no physical threat."

  Romulus hesitated, glancing first at Orestes, then at Flavianus. Orestes merely arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but unwilling to openly influence Romulus’s decision in this matter. The young emperor considered carefully, balancing his natural caution with an instinctive sense of curiosity.

  Finally, he spoke firmly. "Magnus, I still do not trust Lepidus fully—nor this Athanasios. But if his message truly requires secrecy, he may whisper it to you alone. I will trust you, Magnus, to relay it accurately to me."

  Magnus inclined his head solemnly. "As you wish, Caesar."

  Romulus watched him carefully as Magnus returned to Athanasios’s side, briefly relaying the emperor’s decision. Athanasios smiled easily, clearly unsurprised by Romulus’s caution. He stepped forward slightly, whispering briefly into Magnus’s ear with quiet urgency.

  Orestes watched closely, unable to suppress another skeptical snort. "I do hope Magnus does not become overly charmed by Lepidus’s pretty messenger."

  Flavianus regarded the scene silently, tension clearly visible in his jaw. His fingers tightened subtly around the hilt of his sword.

  After a moment, Magnus nodded slightly to Athanasios and returned swiftly to Romulus’s side, his face stern but thoughtful. He leaned close, lowering his voice carefully so only Romulus could hear clearly.

  "Caesar," Magnus murmured softly, "Athanasios says Lepidus has one last message—he stresses secrecy here. Lepidus wants you to know that several of Crassus’s closest aides and many other senators are planning to openly abandon him if the siege falters further. But their defection must appear justified to the rest of the Senate. Lepidus requests that you publicly offer terms of mercy and reconciliation—not immediately, but when Crassus and Odoacer are visibly weakened. Such a gesture would provide the senators political cover, enabling them to switch sides without seeming dishonorable."

  Romulus inhaled sharply, instantly aware of the cunning political calculus behind the request. It was a classic senatorial move, one that could speed the collapse of Crassus’s coalition without overtly humiliating the aristocracy.

  Orestes observed Romulus’s reaction carefully, reading the young emperor’s body language expertly. "Another flowery request, I assume?" he asked dryly.

  Romulus did not respond immediately, his mind racing. He had learned, painfully and repeatedly, that the Roman Senate's loyalties shifted like sand beneath his feet. Yet he could not entirely dismiss Lepidus's words. If genuine, this offered a chance to weaken Crassus significantly.

  Magnus watched him closely. "Caesar, what shall I reply?"

  Romulus took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Tell Athanasios and his master Lepidus this: If they wish mercy and friendship, let their actions continue to prove it. If they truly intend to abandon Crassus and Odoacer, let them do so soon. When I see visible proof, then—and only then—will I offer the public reconciliation they desire."

  Magnus inclined his head respectfully. "It shall be done, Caesar."

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  As Magnus returned to relay Romulus’s careful reply, Orestes leaned close, speaking quietly yet firmly. "Well done, Romulus. Lepidus’s promises may be hollow, but at least you have set clear conditions. Let him prove himself before you show any leniency."

  Flavianus, beside them, nodded in solemn approval. "Precisely. Rome cannot afford weak rulers—or naive ones. Your caution does you credit."

  Romulus observed closely as Magnus quietly relayed his words to Athanasios. The young messenger listened intently, his expression never wavering, his poised grace undiminished even under the scrutiny of Rome’s highest leaders. After a brief exchange, Magnus began to move back toward the emperor, but Athanasios stopped him gently, raising one hand to indicate he had more to share.

  Romulus watched cautiously, his curiosity intensifying. Magnus leaned in again, clearly focused. Their hushed exchange was swift, but Romulus saw a noticeable shift in Magnus’s posture—a sudden stiffness, as though he'd just been handed something extraordinary. Magnus’s jaw clenched slightly, his gaze sharpening.

  As Magnus returned once more, Romulus felt a surge of anticipation. He leaned forward slightly, careful to maintain an air of authority. "Speak freely, Magnus."

  Magnus exhaled slowly, carefully choosing his words. "Caesar, Athanasios offers one final piece of intelligence—another token from Lepidus, intended to further prove his sincerity."

  Orestes narrowed his eyes skeptically, muttering softly, "Another token? Lepidus must have an endless supply."

  Romulus silenced his father’s cynical remark with a brief gesture. "Go on, Magnus."

  Magnus continued, his voice low and urgent. "Tomorrow, Lepidus says, Comes Lucius Varius—the former head of our Palatini Guard and leader of those four hundred traitors—will be sent south with only a minimal escort, no more than a dozen men. His mission is to inspect the southern bridge, the one ten miles from here, connecting the western plains to the port and the eastern banks. He intends to verify whether or not you have reinforced the small garrison guarding it."

  The news hit Romulus like a bolt. Lucius Varius, the traitor who had betrayed him and stripped away hundreds of Rome's finest soldiers, was now offered like a lamb on a silver platter. He felt a surge of bitterness and satisfaction twist in his chest simultaneously.

  Orestes stared coldly at Magnus, eyes glittering dangerously. "Varius," he spat the name as though it burned his tongue. "One of the architects of the treachery that cost us nearly half our Palatini. Lepidus offers us quite the enticing bait."

  Magnus leaned closer, his voice brimming with urgency. "Caesar, Varius’s capture or death would not only could cripple Crassus’s command but also restore some measure of honor to our Palatini ranks. My men still bear the shame of his betrayal like an open wound. Allow me to strike him down personally."

  Romulus studied Magnus intently, recognizing the intensity burning in the Comes’s eyes. The betrayal had weighed heavily on Magnus—more so than he ever openly admitted. The depth of this opportunity wasn’t lost on Romulus, yet he forced himself to remain cautious.

  "Do we know this intel can truly be trusted?" he finally asked, his voice calm but firm.

  Magnus nodded solemnly. "Athanasios speaks confidently and freely. Lepidus desires only one thing in exchange: that his messenger always be allowed to contact us discreetly at this gate, without prior notice, if urgent circumstances arise. Nothing else."

  Romulus’s gaze moved slowly from Magnus to Flavianus and finally to his father. Orestes held his eyes silently for a long moment, then gave a small, barely perceptible nod.

  "Varius’s betrayal haunts our men deeply," Magnus continued quietly. "I ask you to trust me, Caesar. Allow me to remove this stain from our honor."

  Romulus felt the weight of the decision settle heavily on his young shoulders. He sensed the immense risk—but also the profound symbolic value of capturing or killing Varius. The former Comes’s betrayal had been devastating. Delivering justice would send a powerful message, both within Ravenna and beyond its besieged walls.

  After what felt like an eternity, Romulus finally spoke. "Magnus, you may have your chance. Plan your strike carefully. Take him alive if possible—he should answer before the people of Ravenna. But if circumstances force your hand, remove him swiftly."

  Magnus’s eyes burned brightly with fierce determination, his voice filled with barely-contained gratitude. "It will be done, Caesar. You have my word."

  Flavianus stepped forward slightly, his expression serious. "A cautious reminder, Caesar. Lepidus is a cunning man, as is this Athanasios. They’ve dangled a tempting prize before us, but we should remain vigilant. Varius may also be bait to draw out our own men."

  Orestes snorted softly. "Cunning senators and traitors—this is the dance they prefer. But Varius’s life or capture will indeed give our Palatini the justice they crave and strengthen our soldiers' morale." His voice softened briefly, a rare moment of quiet sincerity. "Magnus is right, Caesar. Our Palatini deserve this."

  Romulus felt the truth in those words. The betrayal had wounded deeply—not just the soldiers but his authority as emperor. Varius’s treachery was a bleeding wound; it was now in his power to heal it. He drew a slow, steady breath, feeling a rare confidence swell within him.

  "Magnus," Romulus spoke calmly, "organize a careful ambush near the bridge. You shall have enough men to ensure success, but not enough to arouse suspicion. Varius must be captured or slain quietly and decisively."

  Magnus nodded deeply, relief and anticipation evident in his usually controlled demeanor. "Your will, Caesar."

  Romulus then turned toward Magnus once more, his voice grave. "Tell Athanasios this: I accept Lepidus’s request. He shall be allowed discreet contact here, under your supervision, Magnus. But if this proves treacherous, Lepidus will answer for it personally."

  Magnus nodded solemnly and turned to deliver Romulus’s words. Athanasios listened carefully, bowing gracefully to the emperor from afar, a subtle smile touching his lips. The messenger understood his purpose here had been achieved.

  Romulus watched the young Greek prepare to leave, thoughts swirling in his head. Tonight had brought unexpected opportunities, but each carried its own hidden dangers. He knew the senators were snakes in Rome’s garden, yet even serpents could prove useful if handled carefully.

  As Athanasios slipped silently back through the hidden gate, the young emperor felt a strange sense of uneasy triumph and lurking caution mingled within him.

  Orestes stepped to his side quietly, observing the young emperor closely. "You’ve handled yourself admirably tonight, Caesar. Even Lepidus might soon learn to respect you."

  Romulus remained quiet for a moment, gazing out into the darkness, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down upon him.

  "Respect," he whispered softly, more to himself than anyone else. "I wish that respect could be earned without such games of betrayal and bloodshed."

  Orestes rested a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder, his voice unusually gentle. "This is Rome, my son. Respect has always carried a price—often in blood."

  Romulus turned to his father, drawing a steady breath, his voice calm yet tinged with a resolute edge. "Then Varius’s blood may yet serve Rome, if it restores our honor."

  Magnus stood silently nearby, his gaze fierce and unwavering. Flavianus gave an approving nod.

  Romulus finally stepped away from the hidden gate, signaling for his companions to follow. The night around them was silent once more, but beneath that quiet, he could feel the tides of fate shifting inexorably. For better or worse, he had made his choices.

  Senator Gaius Lepidus reclined comfortably in his cushioned chair, savoring the rich flavor of wine that slid down his throat. His eyes gleamed in the soft lamplight, filled with a contented satisfaction that rarely visited him in recent days. Beside him sat Senator Marcus Pollio, equally relaxed, observing Lepidus with an amused curiosity. The two men had retreated to Lepidus’s expansive private tent, secluded from prying ears in their own secure corner of Crassus’s sprawling camp.

  In front of them stood Athanasios, the young Greek messenger who had just returned from Ravenna, recounting his encounter with Romulus Augustus. Athanasios spoke smoothly, his elegant hands gesturing dramatically as he described the scene, his voice richly layered with nuance and confidence.

  Lepidus listened carefully, weighing each word, his wine cup suspended lightly between his fingers. When Athanasios concluded his account, Lepidus leaned forward with a satisfied smile.

  "Magnificent," he purred, eyes brightening with delight. "Truly magnificent. You performed exactly as I instructed. Well done, Athanasios."

  Pollio gave a subtle nod of approval, his reserved expression reflecting quiet admiration for the messenger's finesse. "You’ve earned Lepidus’s praise, young man—that is no small feat."

  Athanasios bowed gracefully, his dark curls cascading briefly before he rose again, poised and humble. "It is an honor to serve, Senator."

  Lepidus chuckled softly, genuinely amused. "An honor indeed. Romulus was cautious—exactly as I expected—but he granted you precisely what we wanted: unimpeded access to that little side gate near Porta Flaminia. That gate, Athanasios, will soon become more precious than gold."

  Pollio leaned forward slightly, his voice calm yet keenly observant. "And the information you passed along—Varius’s whereabouts—how did they receive that?"

  Athanasios smiled slyly. "They took the bait eagerly. The Comes Magnus seemed especially interested—almost fiercely eager—to act upon it. He desires Varius deeply."

  Lepidus laughed, a sharp, delighted sound, savoring the irony. "Of course, Magnus hungers to reclaim the honor Varius robbed from him. How utterly predictable these warriors can be. And how convenient for us."

  Pollio’s lips curled subtly. "Indeed. Varius, that drunken fool, has become a heavy burden rather than an asset. He serves us better now as bait than as a commander."

  "Exactly," Lepidus agreed smoothly. He swirled the wine gently in his cup, watching it reflect the lamplight in crimson waves. "Varius lost his worth the moment he lost his nerve. His defection once served our purposes—now, his demise shall serve them again. He is a sacrifice we can easily afford."

  Athanasios listened silently, his expression neutral, though his eyes were sharp, always alert. Lepidus studied the messenger closely, measuring him once more.

  "You did well to secure that gate, Athanasios," Lepidus continued thoughtfully. "But remember, you must use every opportunity to gain their trust. Whatever means necessary. Romulus must never doubt your sincerity."

  Athanasios bowed again, a slight smirk playing at his lips. "You can rely on my discretion and charm, Senator. The young emperor seemed intrigued, even if cautious. Given enough time, he will rely upon me completely."

  Lepidus nodded approvingly, his gaze flicking to Pollio. "Romulus is young, yet he is no fool. But youth comes with vulnerabilities—vulnerabilities we will exploit fully. When the time is right, Athanasios, you will convey our message, one more urgent, more desperate. Crassus will 'discover' our intended defection to Romulus’s side. He will be outraged, of course, and we shall be forced to flee his wrath."

  Pollio smiled knowingly. "And Romulus, ever honorable and young, will open his gates to save us from Crassus’s cruel punishment."

  Lepidus grinned darkly, eyes glittering with cunning ambition. "Precisely. He will not abandon those senators who courageously attempt to rejoin his cause. Yet we senators will not actually be present, will we, Pollio?"

  "No," Pollio replied, matching Lepidus’s sly tone. "Only soldiers dressed as senators, a false entourage of servants, and panicked refugees. A convincing spectacle."

  Athanasios observed the two senators carefully, clearly impressed by the scope and elegance of their conspiracy.

  Lepidus continued thoughtfully, savoring each detail. "Romulus will open the gates willingly, welcoming his long-lost allies. And once the gates swing open, Crassus’s troops, close behind our fleeing 'senators,' will storm inside and strike the palace before Romulus’s soldiers realize their error."

  Pollio nodded slowly. "A masterful stroke. Romulus’s own compassion and honor will prove his downfall."

  Lepidus raised his cup toward Pollio, offering a mock salute. "Indeed, my friend. A grand theater, perfectly orchestrated by us. And once inside, the city is ours."

  Pollio chuckled, leaning back comfortably. "Crassus will enjoy that. After all his humiliations, he’ll relish the look on Romulus’s face when he realizes how thoroughly he's been duped."

  Lepidus sipped his wine, savoring its depth, content with the unfolding of his schemes. "And Lepidus," he said, gesturing playfully toward himself, "will finally have his just rewards."

  He turned again to Athanasios, his voice serious. "You, Athanasios, are the key to this entire scheme. Continue playing your part flawlessly. Ensure Romulus trusts you above suspicion. Use every charm and talent you possess—he must never doubt your sincerity."

  Athanasios bowed once more, his youthful face serene yet sharp with confidence. "It will be done, Senator."

  "Excellent," Lepidus purred softly, his satisfaction evident. "Tonight has indeed been fruitful. Pollio, we must inform Crassus that the seeds are planted firmly and the harvest draws near."

  Pollio inclined his head slightly, rising smoothly to his feet. "I will deliver the news to him personally. He’ll be delighted to know the final blow is approaching."

  As Pollio stepped from the tent, Lepidus turned once more toward Athanasios, studying him with a careful eye. "Athanasios, you must remember—your loyalty will be richly rewarded once we triumph. Wealth, position, whatever you desire."

  Athanasios smiled faintly, a glimmer of ambition appearing briefly in his eyes. "Serving you, Senator Lepidus, is already a privilege. But I will accept any reward you see fit."

  Lepidus chuckled appreciatively, feeling thoroughly satisfied. "Good. You understand precisely what Rome truly is—a grand stage, my young friend, filled with masks and actors. We senators merely understand this better than most."

  Athanasios bowed respectfully once more before quietly exiting the tent. Lepidus leaned back, sipping slowly from his cup, the wine warm and rich on his tongue.

  It had been a good day indeed. The pieces moved effortlessly under his guiding hand, and soon, Ravenna would fall—not by brute force, but by cunning. Lepidus closed his eyes briefly, savoring the sweetness of victory already dancing on the horizon.

  A smile curled softly at his lips.

  Yes, he thought, deeply satisfied, all is going precisely as planned.