Marcellus rode on horseback. He clutched the hilt of his sword, expecting conflict at any given moment. Why was he so on edge? Because he was about to meet with the man who had long since been a thorn in the Empire’s side. A man he had fought a battle with in the past, a man who he could consider a true rival.

With Stilicho gone, Marcellus no longer felt confident in his ability to beat Alaric. It was a good fifty-fifty chance that he would come out on top should the two men and their armies engage in mortal combat. At the moment, he was travelling to the Italian Border to meet with the Gothic King, in a rather poor attempt to lure him to the side of Rome.

Alaric was a proud man, who commanded a significant army. Marcellus could not rely on bargaining from a position of power, as both men knew the victory of any conflict between the two of them was up to a coin toss performed by the gods. Marcellus was anxious because he did not know whether these negotiations would result in a brilliant success, or a bloodbath.

Naturally, he was the first to arrive at the agreed location. Where he and his men dismounted from their horses and took cover in an old, abandoned fort. Little did he know the Gothic host had already arrived and was merely waiting to see if he had showed up in good faith. When the scouts saw Marcellus had arrived with the agreed upon forces, they reported this news to Alaric and his advisors, who were slightly surprised. Alaric scoffed when he heard this before making a comment on Marcellus’ actions.

“It appears he really is desperate. Let’s see just how much he is willing to concede in order to gain our allegiance.”

After saying that, the large barbarian King galloped down towards the destination where the negotiations would take place along with his men. Like Marcellus had said, he brought five hundred men to act as security on his behalf. Alaric had done the same.

When Alaric entered the room along with his advisors, Marcellus stood up, though he did not immediately move to greet him. The two men were locked in a battle of stares as they waited for the first man to flinch. This lasted for several moments before Sarus interrupted the contest with a crass remark._.

“Are you two going to compare the size of your cocks all day, or can we move onto more important matters?”

While it may have been crude, it was effective, as the two leaders immediately broke their stares and focused their gazes on Sarus, who merely smiled and took a drink from his wineskin. After coming to their senses, Marcellus and Alaric took their seats across from each other at the negotiating table.

Marcellus would not hide the truth from Alaric. It would be easy for the man to confirm the situation for himself. Thus, he was completely honest as he opened his negotiations.

“I won’t lie to you Alaric, I have inherited a throne that I can not easily keep on my own. Honorius, in his ever foolish state, had driven the Empire to the brink of collapse. I need men to fight for me, if I wish to maintain what ground I have gained, let alone reunite the Empire.

If I had a better option, I would take it. However, as things stand, the Theodosian Dynasty wants my head. Constantine will surely press his claim the moment he realizes the state that the Italian Heartland is in, and you are on my northern borders, threatening to raze everything to the ground.

I am prepared to offer you, and your people, permanent settlement in the lands you currently occupy. Namely Noricum and Illyricum. In exchange, all that I ask is you pledge your loyalty to me as my foederati.

For a period of five years, I will not tax you, and your people, as my subjects, so long as you answer the call to arms when it is required. After this timeframe is over, you will pay normal taxes, but you are not required to convert to Christianity, nor will you be required to become Romans.”

It shocked Alaric and his advisors to hear these conditions. This was better than what they were hoping for. Alaric himself was truly doubtful. He believed that the self-proclaimed Roman General was deceiving him. He wanted to know more about the situation in Rome before deciding on a course of action.

“What forces do you have right now? If I am settling in the Empire and committing my men to fight for it, I damn well better be sure that we are not the only ones fighting.”

Marcellus showed his hand as he revealed what paltry forces he had at his disposal.

“Currently, I have six thousand men in the Italian Heartland, who are a true legion, formed from the limitanei of Raetia. They are heavily armored and heavily trained. Among these six thousand men are five hundred cataphracts.

I also have the Armies of North Africa at my disposal. If I were to count them, I’d say it is another six thousand men. I have begun conscription, and have another fifty thousand men who are undergoing training as we speak. In a few months, they will be a fearsome force who can respond to any threats that my Empire may encounter.

On top of this, I have thirty thousand Gothic Foederati who have already pledged their loyalty to me. That means I have eighty-six thousand soldiers who can defend my borders. More than enough to halt your advance into my lands, should I be forced to do so.”

Alaric chuckled when he heard this claim before pointing out the flaws in Marcellus’ reasoning.

“If what you say is true, then why do you need my men so badly?”

In response to this, Marcellus took a sip from his wineskin before explaining in great detail his reasons for recruiting the Goths.

“Firstly, as I said, fifty thousand of my men are undergoing training, and are waiting to be armed and armored with the best equipment I can manufacture. Second, unless it is absolutely necessary, intend to leave my Second Legion in North Africa to secure the province. Should you invade, I will be forced to withdraw them, abandoning North Africa to its fate, but doubling my military capabilities.

Lastly, you are not the enemy who I need to face right now. I would rather not bloody my forces in battle, expelling you and your ilk from my lands. Without sufficient training and equipment, much of those fifty thousand conscripts would perish, and I would prefer they form into proper legions before sending them to war. If I can make peace with you, and add your forces to my army, then it is far better for us all than should we come to blows.

You know my offer is the best you are going to get. So top acting coy, and answer me already. Will you submit yourselves to the service of Rome as my foederati, and in doing so, gain fertile lands for settlement? Or will you continue to raid, and ravage the balkans, where you will eventually be surrounded by the combined might of the Eastern Roman Army, my armies, and of course, this eastern menace I have heard so much about? I am sure even the mighty Alaric won’t be able to prevent the annihilation of his people against those odds.”

It shocked Alaric to see that Marcellus knew about the threat that was rising in the east and was quick to inquire about what he knew.

“You know about them?”

A hint of surprise appeared on Marcellus’s face as he gazed upon the fear that mired the mighty Gothic King’s visage. He was honest about what little he knew about this eastern menace. After all, if Alaric knew more than him, he could easily call him on his bluff.

“I have only heard rumors, but I know they are really out there, and pose a far greater threat than you do. If either of us wishes to survive the coming storm, then we need to work together. I suggest you put aside your grudges and consider what is best for your people. You know you can’t continue your nomadic existence without eventually being whittled down into nothing. Join me, and perhaps we can not only re-unite the Empire, but even expel this threat to the East before it drowns us all.”

Alaric gazed over at his advisors. They seemed to be more fearful of the eastern menace than he was. The idea of having Rome as an ally against this threat was reassuring to them. Though the Western Roman Empire may be a shadow of its former self, to the Germanic people, there was still an ancient terror hidden behind their name. Marcellus was living proof that the Romans weren’t entirely extinct just yet.

After careful deliberation with his advisors, Alaric stood up from his seat and reached out his hand. The action slightly surprised Marcellus, but it did not take him long to accept the gesture. The two men clasped each other’s forearms as they stared into each other’s eyes. Marcellus was the first to speak.

“Whether we be Goth or Roman, our futures lie intertwined from this moment forward. We either succeed in our endeavors and drive our enemies from the borders of the Empire. Or die together against the overwhelming odds that seek to crush us. Either way, from this day forward, you, Alaric, King of the Goths, are my brother.”

Alaric broke out into uncontrollable laughter as he heard this remark. He never in his life expected the infamous goth-slayer to say those words to the King of the Goths. After hearing it, he pulled out a mug and made a declaration of friendship.

“I can drink to that!”

With that said, the Romano-Gothic Alliance had been established. For how long it would last, nobody really knew. However, for the time being, Marcellus had gained tens of thousands of battle hardened warriors to add to his ranks. Whether it was Constantine in the west, or the generals of Theodosius II in the east, he was confident that he could now hold his ground against his many enemies.