“No one is safe if the Emperor loses control,” he muttered. “It should not have happened. I am young, and they were too strong for me, but I swear to you, mother, such things will not be allowed when I am a man!”
I shook my head, thinking how much he had to learn, then put an arm around him and held him close. “When you are a man, you will set all things right!” I murmured to comfort him, and only when I had said it did it occur to me that even this might be possible for the Child of Prophecy.
Night came, and with it came the rest of the legion, seeking to drown the knowledge of what they had done in wine and violence. If the officers had survived, like us, they had found some bolthole in which to hide. I believed that Constantius was among them. Surely I would have known if death had broken the bond between us. To the south, where the wealthy had built their homes around the palace, we could see flames, and I thought that I had been right to bring my people here after all. Some of the shopkeepers and the clerks who worked in the basilica were here when we arrived, so we were about thirty in number, in all.
When for a time there was a pause in the sounds of destruction and revelry I could hear chanting from the Christian church.
“Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison…”
“Lord, have mercy,” whispered Philip, behind me.
They had no more defence than the sheep of which they sang so often, but even drunken soldiers knew there would be nothing worth looting there. I pitied any poor souls who had no refuge at all, for the Roman legionary, who could fight like a hero under discipline, without it was closer to the beast than any barbarian.
Through that night we huddled in the basilica, sitting with our backs against the wall, and though it was the season when the hours of darkness are at their least, to us it seemed very long. But at last I must have dozed, Constantine’s solid torso lying across my lap, as if in this extremity he had become once more a little child. I opened my eyes to see a pale light filtering through the high windows. The city outside was, at long last, still.
Con stirred in my arms and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I’m thirsty,” he said, blinking at the others, who were beginning to wake as well.
“I’ll go,” said Philip, and when I opened my lips to stop him, shook his head. “The troops will all have passed out and be sleeping it off, or wishing they were. Why should anyone bother me?”
I sighed and nodded acceptance. Philip had filled out as he grew older, but early underfeeding had stunted him and with his crooked nose and shock of wiry reddish hair he was not likely to invite attack of any kind.
“Are you still afraid of the soldiers, Mother?” asked Con. “I have been thinking, and I am certain now that we will be safe. A goddess protects you, as I have seen, and I know that I am not destined to die here, for have you not told me many times that I am the Child of Prophecy?”
I stared at my son, wondering now if that had been wise. When the rioters surrounded us the day before, I had suddenly remembered that visions showed only what things might come to pass. It was my own desperation that had summoned the Lady’s power, not destiny. I still believed that Constantine had been born with the potential for greatness, but his own deeds must determine whether, and how, that potential was to be fulfilled.
By the time Philip returned, most of the others were awake. He had picked up an empty amphora and filled it at the fountain, and had found a cup to go with it. The water tasted faintly of wine.
“I am surprised that you found anything unbroken,” I said as I passed the cup to Brasilia. “How is it, out there?”
“Like the morning after a battle, except that most of the gore is not blood but wine. A tribune on his first campaign could command them, ashamed as they are right now. I heard one man sobbing about how good Probus had been as a general, and they ought to build him a monument.” He shook his head disgustedly.