Chapter 16: The Black Gate Opens
As instructed, Crocus led his Alemanni in a wide, ostentatious arc to the north of Augusta Treverorum. The sight of several thousand barbarian horsemen, their wild banners flying, kicking up dust on the horizon and letting out sporadic, chilling war cries, sent an immediate ripple of alarm along Trier’s northern walls. Watchtowers signaled frantically. From his vantage point with the main column, Constantine could see the distant flurry of activity, a satisfying confirmation that the diversion was having its intended effect. Tiberianus would now have to divide his attention, uncertain of the true point of attack.
Valerius took his force – two cohorts of household guards and one from the tough Legio VI Victrix – straight for the Porta Nigra. The great gate rose before them, a colossal structure of blackened stone, more fortress than mere entrance. Its massive towers seemed to dare any attack, a stark symbol of Roman might.
Valerius’s herald announced their presence: "Valerius, Commander of the Protectores Domestici, bearing urgent tidings for the defenders of Trier, in the name of Constantinus Augustus, son of the divine Constantius!"
There was a long pause from the ramparts. Figures could be seen moving, conferring. Constantine, having timed his own advance carefully, brought the leading elements of his main force into view, a disciplined sea of legionary shields and spear points, still at a respectful distance but undeniably present, undeniably powerful. The sun glinted on thousands of helmets.
"They are hesitant," Metellus observed beside Constantine.
"Tiberianus has sown the wind; now they reap the whirlwind of indecision," Constantine murmured, his eyes fixed on the gate. He recalled the names of two junior centurions in the Porta Nigra’s usual garrison, men known to Constantine’s memory as having admired his father and privately despaired of Tiberianus’s timid leadership. Valerius had been tasked with seeking them out.
On the battlements, a senior officer, likely the gate’s prefect, finally appeared. His shouts were indistinct at this range, but the agitated gestures indicated confusion, perhaps conflicting orders. This was the moment.