Return to Me - By Morgan O'Neill Page 0,27
left, that your strength at arms, your friendship, the love you bore the royal family … all of this was ignored, no longer of any import?”
The words stung, and Gigi stared at the floor, ashamed. She heard Magnus take a deep breath, and, when he spoke again, she could hear the emotion in his voice.
“I was very ill, Leontius.” Magnus pulled up his tunic, revealing faded scars that crisscrossed his chest. Elpidia gasped and Vana knowingly nodded as Magnus resettled his clothing. “Honorius drugged and beat me, then scourged me, before Gigi got there, and I almost died from the loss of blood. It took all of her strength and willpower to save me, to get me to a safe place, a place where I could heal. It took months, and, for all that time, Gigi bore the burden alone. She was on her own for the healing, the protection, the finding of food and shelter. She couldn’t have gotten me to you, and no news came to us. When I was at last strong enough to travel, she had no way of finding the location of your encampment, and so she took me, by long, weary routes, to my uncle in Constantinople. By the time news reached us of events going on in Gaul and Hispania, it was months late, so there was little we could do. We will forever regret our inability to help.”
Silence filled the room, and then Elpidia took Gigi in her arms. “Blessed woman, I believe your husband speaks the truth. You have ever been strong, ever giving of yourself to protect the weak and stand for those you love, no matter the cost.”
Soon, Vana joined them in a heartfelt embrace, and Leontius was left to his own thoughts. Finally, Gigi watched with relief as he clasped arms with Magnus.
“Forgive my skepticism,” Leontius said. “If you would be patient a little longer, I will find a moment to tell King Athaulf. He will know the best way and time to talk with the queen. She is distraught and taking the death of the prince very hard, as you might imagine.”
“We want what is best for Placidia,” Magnus replied. “It is all we have ever desired, and the very reason we returned.”
Gigi nodded, and Leontius met her gaze and nodded back.
• • •
The following morning, Gigi stood beside Magnus in a richly appointed room, nervously waiting. There was a light tap on the door and Placidia entered, leaning heavily on Athaulf’s arm. Gigi knew the royal couple had already been told by Leontius of their survival.
Red-eyed, Athaulf nodded to them, his grief plain and deep, but Placidia’s was another matter, even more horrible to behold. She looked pale and lifeless, gazing at Gigi and Magnus as if she’d never seen them before, as though she couldn’t find it in her heart to care.
Black, all black, Gigi thought. Head to toe. Even the deep circles under Placidia’s sad, listless eyes were black. Then Gigi noticed Placidia wore a pearl necklace, one she’d never seen before, but it too was shrouded in a scarf of black gauze.
Deep, dark, achingly tragic loss. Placidia was no longer the sweet, cheerful girl of four years earlier, and seeing sorrow’s devastation rocked Gigi to her core.
At Magnus’s prompting, he and Gigi bowed low, but the stark misery on her dear friend’s face was too much to bear. Gigi’s throat tightened, strangling on words unspoken. Instead of rising from her bow, she dropped to her knees, pressed the hem of Placidia’s gown to her eyes, and started to sob.
“I’m so sorry, Placidia,” Gigi wept, regret and shame convulsing her body. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, for your son. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help.”
Gigi felt Magnus’s comforting hand on her shoulder, but couldn’t stop the outpouring of grief. Then another hand, small and cool, gently touched her cheek.
Placidia knelt on the floor beside Gigi and the two friends clasped one another, crying, comforting, and eventually … forgiving.
• • •
That evening, King Athaulf welcomed Magnus to his private chambers. The men had been long apart, and much had happened in the intervening four years, but Magnus knew Athaulf was needful of his company, for the king greeted him in a bear hug.
“It is good to see you yet drawing breath, my friend.” Athaulf poured Magnus some beer, then bade him recline on a sofa, Roman-style. “Take your ease before me.”
Magnus nodded.
“And thank you,” Athaulf went on as he settled on his