Evolution

Theodoric nodded. "I myself believe it is so. I sent you to study in a Roman school, and later with Honorius." He chuckled. "My father would never have allowed such a thing. He didn’t believe in schools! If you learn to fear a teacher’s strap now, you will never learn to look on a sword or javelin without a shudder. To him, we were warriors before anything else. But we, these days, are a different generation."

"And the better for it," said Galla. "The empire will never come back. But I truly believe that some day, out of the union of our peoples here and across the continent, new blood will arise, new kinds of strength and vision."

Athalaric raised his eyebrows. Something in her tone reminded him unfortunately of Papak, and he wondered what she was trying to sell his uncle. He said dryly, "But in the meantime, before that marvelous day comes to pass—"

"In the meantime I am concerned for my children."

"Why? Are they in peril?"

"In fact, yes," Galla said, letting her irritation show. "You have been away too long, young man, or else you have your head too firmly buried in Honorius’s teachings."

"There have been attacks," Theodoric said. "Property damage, fires, thefts."

"Directed against the Romans?"

"I am afraid so." Theodoric sighed. "I, who remember how it was, would like to preserve what was best about the empire — stability, peace, learning, a just system of law. But the young know nothing of this. Like their forefathers who lived simpler lives on the northern plains, they hate what they know of the empire: power over the land, the people, riches from which they were excluded."

"And so they wish to punish those who remain," said Athalaric.

Galla said, "Why they behave as they do scarcely matters. What is important is what must be done to stop them."

"I have raised militia. The disturbances can be quelled, but they erupt again elsewhere. What we need is a solution for the long term. We must restore the balance." Theodoric smiled. "It is a paradox that I should come to believe it is necessary to make our Romans strong again."

Athalaric snorted. "How? Give them a legion? Raise Augustus from the dead?"

"Simpler than that," Galla said, unmoved by his mockery. "We must have a bishop."

Now Athalaric began to understand.

Galla said, "Remember, it was Pope Leo who persuaded Attila himself to turn back from the gates of Rome—"

"So that’s why I’m here. You want Honorius to become a bishop. And you want me to persuade him to do it."

Theodoric nodded, pleased. "Galla, I told you the boy is perspicacious."

Athalaric shook his head. "He will refuse. Honorius is not — worldly. He is interested in his old bones, not in power."

Theodoric sighed. "But there is a shortage of candidates, Athalaric. Forgive me, madam, but too many of the Roman gentry have proved themselves fools — arrogant, greedy, overbearing."

"My husband among them," Galla said evenly. "There is no offense to be given by the truth, my lord."

Theodoric said, "It is only Honorius who commands true respect — perhaps because of his lack of worldliness." He eyed Athalaric. "If it had not been so I would never have been able to release you to his tutelage."

Galla leaned forward. "I understand your misgivings, Athalaric. But will you try nevertheless?"

Athalaric shrugged. "I will try, but—"

Galla’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "As long as he lives, Honorius is the only candidate for the position; no other can fill the role. As long as he lives. I trust you will try very hard to persuade him, Athalaric."

Suddenly Athalaric saw power in her: the power of an ancient empire, the power of an angry, threatened mother. He pulled himself free of her grip, disturbed by her intensity.

Honorius prepared for the last leg of the epic journey he had first conceived on meeting the Scythian on the edge of the eastern deserts.

A traveling party formed up. The core was Honorius, Athalaric, Papak, and the Scythian, just as it had been before. But now some of Theodoric’s militia traveled with them — away from the towns, the country was far from safe — along with a handful of the more inquisitive young Goths and even some members of the old Roman families.

So they journeyed west.

As it happened they were all but retracing the steps taken by Rood’s hunting party, some thirty thousand years earlier. But the ice had long retreated to its northern fortresses — so long ago, in fact, that humans had forgotten it had even come this way. Rood would not have recognized this rich, temperate land. And he would have been astonished at the great density of people living here now — just as Athalaric would have been astounded if he could have glimpsed Rood’s mammoth herds gliding across a land empty of humans.