By God, he would do everything in his power to ensure she had a peaceful death one day, honorable, in her own bed, surrounded by her birth children and himself. Alaric closed his eyes in relief, for he loved her openly, with all his heart. “Mother, do this for me, your chosen son.” And her wits were not as they once were, her mind clouded by a muddle of hatred and fear. She was old now, by his reckoning some nine and fifty years. Her gaze wavered, and Alaric reached out and gently stroked her hair. You must treat him with respect and you must also honor his bride. He is my friend and a friend to our people. Alaric heard her gasp, and then mutter something about Magnus. With a wail, Randegund shook herself free of the spell and looked down at the runes. For as long as he could remember, she had told him he was destined to be Rome’s conqueror.
The foretelling of the fall of Rome, spoken by Randegund in the enemy tongue. It was the same each time Alaric heard the chant - it resounded like thunder in his soul. Penetrabis ad Urbem.” You will penetrate the city … Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she chanted in Latin, “Penetrabis ad Urbem. “Read these runes!” she repeated to the air. She rattled small, carved pieces of bone in her fist, then cast them on the ground. He could see she was in a trance by the way she held herself still, her spine so straight, her blue eyes glassy. He crept forward, parting branches, until he spotted her. The words came from somewhere beyond the bushes. The sun was high, and he cursed his parched throat and growling stomach.
Alaric searched in vain for Randegund all morning.
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