Chapter 16 Trajan
XVI
TRAJAN
There was no stopping the growl that instantly rumbled in my chest. Though the king was behind bars, my dragon knew he was a threat, and he seemed unaware that he let his beast be known through the glowing fire in his eyes.
Julian hadn’t been wrong. This Germanic king of the Visigoth barbarians was a dragon.
He was formidable in size as any dragon in human form. Wearing only trousers, he was covered in all manner of filth from his parade through the forum, bearing the onslaught of the crowds. His dark hair was long and matted, his facial features sharp and hard. Savage.
But it wasn’t his presence that sparked the air with a drugging sort of enchantment. It was Lela. A tantalizing sweep of ethereal energy encircled the chamber. The Visigoth tilted his head up and inhaled deeply.
“What kind of sorceress has come to my cell?”
He spoke Latin. Interesting.
“A powerful one,” she answered confidently. “I am Lela, and this is Trajan. What is your name?”
He crossed his arms, mouth tilting with amusement. “Alaric. This is quite the civil secret visitation to my jail cell.”
I pushed back the hood of my cloak, drawing his attention to me. His features tightened as he stared me down. Enough of the civilities.
“Why haven’t you shifted into a dragon to try and save yourself?”
He remained preternaturally still. Then the beast in his eyes dimmed, as if he hadn’t known he’d let me see the truth. He shoved his dragon back, away from the surface.
“I’ve been holding that information close to me,” he said, glancing at Lela again. “But she’s drawn him out.”
Lela’s magic could certainly do that. Like knows like. Her gift came from the gods, the same as ours.
“You’re a witch,” he stated, without animosity.
“I am,” Lela answered easily, surprising me.
“I watched what you did to that guard. You make men obey your word with a taste of their blood,” he said. “That is a useful skill.” He tilted his head, observing us both keenly. “Too bad you use it to help the Romans.”
There was no mistaking the disgust in his voice.
“I help this Roman to help myself,” said Lela.
“And why would you use your magic to help this Roman?” His gaze slid to me.
“I think you might find,” I said, easing closer to the bars, “that we have similar interests.”
“Oh? You have an interest in freeing me from this cell?”
“I do,” I told him. “But I’m curious, why won’t you simply shift?” I examined the ceiling made entirely of clay and stone. “Any dragon could burst out of here easily enough without damage to himself. Though you would have to battle the deathriders in the skies once free of this cell.”
“How did you know I was a dragon? No one else has guessed.”
“We’ve met before. Or actually, you met my general. He was the one who saw you for what you are. Besides, we figured there was only one way out of those woodlands you set on fire and that was your men blending in with ours, in dragon form.”
The barbarian king smiled. “You were in Moesia then.”
“I was.”
“How is your general? Did he die of the wound?”
“You mean the poisoned blade you cut him with? No. He survived.”
His features tightened. “Too bad.”
“I think you’ll be pleased he survived.”
“Why would I fucking care about a Roman general?”
“Because he wants to kill his uncle. Emperor Igniculus.”
Alaric’s features changed, his eyes widening ever so slightly with surprise.
“And so do I,” I added.
His eyes blazed bright gold, fury hardening his face.
“If you’re trying to hide your dragon, you’re doing a poor job of it,” I told him.
“How do you plan to do this?” he demanded.
“We are still finalizing details, but one thing we need is a larger army.”
We really didn’t have one at all. Our list of liberators were made up mostly of senators. They could fight, but they weren’t warriors. And they weren’t enough.
While I hoped Appius’s son Marcellus was working on gathering more men to our side, it was a tricky situation.
The more people we told, the more likely there was a chance we’d be betrayed to the emperor before we could strike.
Having an army outside of Rome and away from Roman ears would be most advantageous in helping us win our revolution.
“I see,” he said. “And you want mine.”
“I want you to work with us. To ally with us.”
He scoffed with disgust. “With Romans? You’re all liars and thieves.”
“He isn’t.” Lela’s soft interruption jarred me. “At least, he isn’t lying about this.”
Not much of a defense, but I was grateful for it all the same.
“I don’t need you,” he said to me. “My army will annihilate Rome without you.”
“From this dungeon?” Then I reminded him, “When so many of your men are dead.”
He snarled, bearing his sharpened teeth, his eyes glittering gold. But he didn’t answer me.
Claudius’s book on war flashed to mind, a passage about the art of surprise and fooling an enemy who thinks they have you outnumbered.
Then it hit me what this king was planning to do. It was rather obvious now, and I should’ve recognized it back when Julian and I had encountered his army in Moesia.
“Your strategy to defeat Rome is to keep the emperor’s legions believing you are merely men. And when they least expect it, preparing to battle men on the ground, you’ll unleash your own legion of dragons. Unless General Drussus and Caesar have killed them all.”
He stared, still silent, that savage expression fixed and piercing.
“It is a good strategy, if you have more men, more dragons, hidden away somewhere,” I admitted.
“The Roman generals will never suspect it. But your army needs their general. And for you to escape from this prison before you’re executed, you’ll need to transform into your beast form.
Then your advantage is lost. Caesar will gather all of his legions at once against yours.
I don’t know your exact numbers, but I’m sure they do not equal all of Caesar’s. ”
Silence fell between us, a distant drip somewhere in the prison the only sound. Finally, he responded.
“You are correct. They do not.”
“Then you need help escaping this place. And not just this dungeon, but the city as well.”
“And all I have to do is join you in killing the emperor.”
“The emperor and all of his faithful followers.”
He frowned, considering my response.
“It is not enough to kill Caesar,” said Lela. “There are many who will step into his place. And Rome will not change.”
I looked at Lela, realizing she knew Rome as well as I did. And she was arguing for my cause. My heart swelled.
The Visigoth huffed a laugh. “You think you will change Rome?” he bit out with sarcasm. “It would have to burn to the ground first.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “That is likely true.”
He stared at me, scowling, obviously wondering if I was willing to burn my own city to get what I wanted. My father’s shame and my mother’s despair were etched in my heart.
“I am willing to do whatever it takes,” I added.
I didn’t know what he had against the emperor, enough to want to raise an army and risk his life to kill him. Caesar likely murdered someone he loved. It didn’t matter. I would use it to win him to my side. He had resources we needed.
When he remained quiet—pensive and watchful—I asked, “How did they capture you? From experience, I know you’re capable of avoiding capture.”
He and his men evaded us at every turn in Moesia. We never even got close, until they wanted us to.
“Some of my army are men, not bastard-born dragons like myself. But we are all brothers.” He paused, looking out the window, the sunlight highlighting his harsh features.
“When a faction of my men, humans, were surrounded, including one who … was one of my lieutenants, I stayed behind to fight.” His voice had dropped, his anger filling the small cell.
“There were too many for us alone. And I refused to give away our secret by shifting.”
“So you sacrificed yourself to try and save them,” said Lela.
He turned to face us again. “They didn’t bring them here to this prison with me.”
“This prison is only for the greatest enemies of the state, of Caesar.”
A heap of beaten and brutalized bodies flashed to mind.
“My men are dead, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “I saw the pile of bodies at Caesar’s palace.”
He gulped hard. “Did they suffer?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly, knowing he was the kind of man who would only want the truth. “Your leader, his name was Adolfo?”
The Visigoth exhaled a heavy breath. “Adolfo was more than that. He was a friend.” He paused then asked, “Did the emperor kill him?”
“No.” I fisted my hands at my sides. “I did.”
The barbarian narrowed his gaze, now slits of dragon fire. “You?”
Then there was a gentle touch on my forearm. I flinched, looking down as Lela wrapped her slender fingers around my wrist and squeezed before sliding away. Compassion filled her lovely face.
“He put him out of his misery,” she told the Visigoth. “The emperor tortured him for his own pleasure. Trajan gave your friend a merciful death.”
He stared at Lela, seething, then he looked at me. “Is that true?”
I nodded. “The emperor is a master at games. His mind is twisted, but cunning. He knows how to manipulate and uses fear to control his men. However, there are many who revel in his brutality and thrive in this corrupt Rome he has created.”
I sighed, looking over at the guard still slumped on his side, concerned he might wake. Lela’s magic would wear off soon.
“I will be honest. We do not have the numbers to defeat them all. Not now. We have been moving slowly, because it’s dangerous. Trusting the wrong person could mean death for us all before we even begin.”
I stepped closer to the bars and wrapped a fist around one.
“If you joined us, we’d have the numbers to move soon.
With our knowledge of the city and the generals and how Caesar operates, we could devise a plan together to defeat them all.
Because make no mistake, if we allow his generals to live, they will rally and their vengeance will be bloody and brutal. ”