The Fall Of The West (COMPLETED)

Prologue: Aftermath

Losses were estimated to be about 10000 men, which was a significant number when renumeration was much weaker than what it had been in earlier times.

The most obvious repercussion was the huge drop in available manpower. Many important officers such as Sebastianus were killed in the battle. The Battle of Adrianopole was one of the most disastrous defeats in Roman history, and unlike in the 1st century the empire could not recover as quickly. The senatorial class was uninterested in military matters, and as a result pulled their support out of it. Organizing soldiers was a very complex matter, as there were too many frontiers to defend, and too less troops to cover all of it. As a result, the core army of the Eastern Empire was shattered, and it would take an incredibly long time for it to recover, in the meantime relying heavily on mercenaries and barbarian allies, or foederati, to add numbers. This in turn took a toll on the economy, as foreign aid was not cheap.

Equally important was the shockwaves that the defeat sent across the Roman world. That a Roman force would be so absolutely defeated by a barbarian army, and an emperor himself killed in the battle, was unthinkable until now. The illusion of Roman military superiority had been dispelled. It proved that the Romans were not invincible, and that their empire was weak enough to let barbarians run amok inside its borders for two years. It also showed the barbarian world that they were strong enough to take on Romans, encouraging more raids in the following century.

Interestingly, the Goths gained nothing from the battle. They had sacrificed so many men to defeat a Roman army, but they had not negotiated any peace terms, or gotten any compensation for their abuse. Valens's death was also troublesome for them. If they had captured him, he would serve as a useful hostage to extract peace terms from the empire. They needed him alive, not dead.

In military history, the battle marks the end of heavy infantry supremacy, and the beginning of cavalry-dominated battlefields. The Romans had to adapt to these changes, but neither the money nor manpower was readily available to them to introduce these reforms in time. More often than not, they relied on foederati to provide a cavalry arm.

After Adrianopole, the general Theodosius (later to become Theodosius the Great) gradually weakened the Goths with more hit-and-run battles until on 3 October 382 the final treaties between the Goths and the Romans were signed and large contingents of Visigoths were allowed to settle on the south Danube frontier and largely govern themselves. Also, having been given land to settle on, they then had the obligation to fight for the empire.

The below is purely fictional.

It was a regular bright Syrian morning. Arshama sat on a bench beside the fountain, looking out from under his hood at the crowd. There were no orders from Ctesiphon, so he just had to do what he did best- spy.

Life in Antioch was very busy, at least for the Romans. Children ran about, playing their games and doing things children did. Arshama envied them for their ignorance. He was a spy, and the mental strain of the job took up much of his time and effort. He could only imagine what the Shahanshah faced.

Whispers were abound among the adults. A Roman army had been defeated with horrendous losses, and an emperor killed. Arshama didn't know whether to believe it or not, but they seemed serious enough. An emperor killed in battle. Now that was something you didn't hear every day.

A Roman soldier walked to the fountain, set his shield and spear against it, and started washing his face. Arshama noticed that this man's helmet was dented and scratched in many places. The Roman insignia on his shield was marred by an ugly rend etched on the steel. This man was a veteran, it seemed. Or someone who was at the bottom of the list for equipment replacements.

The soldier then picked up his spear and shield and walked up to Arshama, and sat down beside him. Seeing a chance to gather more information, Arshama started a conversation.

"So how's it like in the barracks? Your equipment don't look good."

The man didn't answer. He just sat upright, hands on his spear and shield, looking blankly forward.

Arshama tried to get him to open up. "You look like you just fought a battle. Where did you come from?"

The blank look on his face was transferred to Arshama's face. The Persian and Roman stared at each other for a few moments before the Roman turned in front again.

"You heard them talking about the battle where a lot of Romans were killed, right? You know anything about it?"

Something stirred in the Roman. So he knew.

"Iwasthere," he mumbled incomprehensibly.

"What?"

The Roman turned to look at Arshama. Now he knew. It wasn't a blank look. Arshama had seen this look in traumatized children before.

"Adrianopole. I was there."

Arshama still didn't know what he was talking about, but at least he was getting somewhere.

"What happened?"

The Roman hesitated for a while and said,"Everyone died."

Arshama raised his eyebrows. "Everyone?"

"The Goths killed them as we ran. There was blood everywhere... it was flowing down the hill like a river."

Goths? He needed to ask those students back at the libraries who those people were.

"My friend died as blood spurted out of his neck. It was everywhere. On his tunic, on his face, on the grass, on the man who killed him... on me."

Arshama now knew he was talking to an emotionally disturbed person, and he was trained to steal, hide, and infiltrate, but not to deal with a traumatized man, whose expression was getting creepier by the second. He tried to leave, but the soldier grabbed and pulled on his cloak violently.

"They killed them all, you see! No one survived! There was blood all over me! They killed them all! THEY KILLED THEM ALL!"

Arshama was now trying to get the man to let to of his cloak, and trying not to look at that crazed expression on the man's face. 

"THEY KILLED THEM ALL! THEY KILLED THEM ALL! HA HA HA HA HA!"

A crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Arshama slapped the wide-eyed, grinning man to try and wake him up from his living nightmare, but to no avail.

"Move!" An authoritative voice sounded out, and the crowd cleared to make way for two palatina. They approached the man and tried to drag him away, but he held in for dear life onto Arshama's cloak.

"HA HA HA HA HA!"

A palatina then drew his sword and smacked the man on the back of his head, making him lose his grip momentarily. They then grabbed him by his arms and started to drag him away. The crowd watched as they went off.

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

Arshama dusted his cloak. In all the fifty years of his job, he had never encountered something like this.

Was that battle so horrifying? Arshama didn't want to imagine it. He would leave that to the historians and professors. And the men who fought on the battlefield.