Triumph

CHAPTER NINETEEN

On his way to take over command, picking up mercenary contingents en route, Flavius found the troops he would be required to lead into battle to be demoralised, lacking in equipment and patently frightened of facing an enemy who always outnumbered them and seemed, under Khusrow’s military reforms, to be invincible.

Many a commander would have despaired at this but Flavius had been in such a situation before and was therefore untroubled, eschewing modesty to remind them the army was now led by the Victor of Dara. That alone lifted their spirits and their general knew that fully supplied with weapons, given proper training and under good officers, even the most fearful body could be brought to the peak of fighting ability and these were the matters he set out to address.

His spies reported back that Khusrow was not bent on a second incursion into central Mesopotamia. He had gone north to fight the Huns, a tribe forever raiding his borderlands and that presented Flavius with a golden opportunity: he had time to exercise his men, and that complete he could invade Sassanid territory with no fear of meeting the main enemy force.

At a gathering of his officers only one pair demurred at this plan, the two imperial duces of Phoenice Libanensis, who ruled jointly from Damascus and Palmyra. In that region they faced the pagan Lahkmids, long-time allies of the Sassanids. If they denuded their territories of troops to join Flavius it would leave them exposed to a Lahkmid invasion.

It was Arethas, the leader of the Ghassanids, neighbours and co-religionists to the Lahkmids, albeit less observant of ritual, who pointed out that at this time of year committed pagans were forbidden to go to war and would be so constrained for two whole months, during which they must worship their gods. Flavius was then able to promise the duces that he would release them within sixty days so they could return to their fiefs and defend them.

He did not have to travel far in order to make contact with an enemy. The Sassanid twin to the Byzantine fortress of Dara was Nisibis, a mere three leagues distant and just as powerful a stronghold, certainly one holding a garrison large enough to pose a danger if just bypassed. Flavius dismayed many of his officers, men now thirsting for action, by ordering his surveyors to stay well away from the walls and to lay out the Byzantine camp at a distance, which required him to explain his thinking to his inferior in order to put a cap on much vocal muttering.

‘It is a poor commander who does not learn from his errors. When I fought Witigis outside Rome I paid no heed to the fact that he deployed his forces further away from the walls than seemed, at the time, necessary. Yet he had a clear reason to do so and it is one I now wish to adopt.’

A look around the assembly showed many an eager listener but also some expressions that hinted at either doubt, indifference or mystification.

‘The Sassanid spahed in Nisibis is Nabedes. He has substantial forces under his command and we have to assume him to be capable. Khusrow would not have entrusted to him such an important strategic asset as his major border stronghold if he was not a trusted subordinate. It is my belief that if we give him room he will come out from behind his walls to fight and drive us off, rather than accept to be put under siege.’

‘It is what you did at Dara,’ Photius added, now in a position to speak in support at such gatherings.

‘I did not venture so far, but then I had no intention of a pursuit. This time I wish to anticipate the possibility as Witigis did at Rome. Let Nabedes come to us, and if we can force him into a retreat, the gap between his army and safety could be so great that we might ruin the defence of Nisibis. If we succeed, the city will fall to us without the need to mount an assault.’

Obeyed by the majority, there were two men who thought they knew better than their general, the prime mover being a junior called Peter, like the late Constantinus a well-connected patrician who saw no reason to defer to a man of the character and breeding of Flavius Belisarius. The other commander, swayed by Peter even if he admired Flavius, was known as John the Glutton, given he was not a man to be any distance behind at mealtimes.

Declining to stop within the limit set, they marched on until not much more than a milia separated them from the enemy, a full half of the distance Flavius had decided upon. There was no time to recall them and besides, Flavius half wondered if Peter had inadvertently provided a temptation that the Sassanids would not be able to resist. With that in mind he sent word to the miscreant to stay where he was but to post a strong and alert guard against a night assault.

Dawn brought news that Nabedes had taken the bait. He was deploying his forces outside the walls, no doubt full of confidence based, Flavius suspected, on the way the Sassanids had routed every Byzantine force they encountered the previous year. Hubris in an enemy is ever a positive.

Orders were issued that the normal time of breaking to eat was to be postponed past noon, Flavius sure that would be the time the enemy, who knew well the habits of Eastern Roman armies, would launch their assault. It was as well he was ready, his forces drawn up to fight, for in the distance a huge cloud of dust told him that troops were moving in mass formations. By the time the message came from Peter that he was under attack – it had come while his men were, in another act of defiance, eating their midday rations – the main force was moving, with the Goth mercenaries well to the fore, eager to show their mettle.

They found the men led by Peter and the Glutton in dire straits, indeed they passed some of them fleeing the field. But so ferocious was the Goth assault they drove back the forward Sassanid elements and those troops recoiled on the supporting elements. Seeing the main Byzantine force closing at speed and with his army in some disarray, Nabedes ordered the retreat, the very outcome that Flavius had sought.

Yet thanks to Peter, the fight and flight was taking place too close to the walls of Nisibis and if the Sassanids lost substantial numbers, it was nothing like the amount that would have fallen had they had further to run. The main force got back through the gates not far off intact, which rendered impossible any chance of taking the city by a coup.

In dressing down his two errant commanders it was plain who had initiated the disobedience. Peter was sent back to Constantinople in disgrace and John the Glutton, the lesser offender, warned that any further insubordination would see him thrown into Justinian’s dungeons with no food, a warning he extended to his whole command when they met again to discuss what would happen now.

‘If we try to take Nisibis, Nabedes can hold out for the whole summer, so we must march on or our incursion is a waste.’

‘And leave him along our lines of communication, Magister?’ asked an inferior commander called Trajan. He had once been part of the Belisarian comitatus and was well trusted by the general who had promoted him.

‘We will achieve nothing here and it is to be hoped that Nabedes has been chastened by that which he has just experienced. He dare not lose Nisibis, given it would likely cost him his head, so I would have him cautious now and prepared to stay behind those walls.’

‘Do we not need supplies of food to come through Dara?’

The amusement that caused, the question being posed by the Glutton, made him blush, while everyone else added comments on his obvious girth until Flavius, with a raised hand brought it to an end.

‘The territory into which we are going to advance is fertile enough to support us. We need no supplies from our own possessions. The city of Sisauranon is no more than a day’s march to our front. That is our next objective.’

If the army marched on, Flavius did not; he kept a sharp eye on the gates of Nisibis for any sign that Nabedes might emerge, in which case he would swing his forces round to confront them. It was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that the spahed acted as predicted, the gates staying firmly closed, leaving him to ride hard to catch up with his strong rearguard.

There was no manoeuvring outside Sisauranon; as soon as they were properly deployed and their demand for surrender had been rebuffed, the Byzantines assaulted the walls with ladders, only to find them strongly held. Mounting losses caused that to be called off, which meant a siege; Flavius knew he would have to employ such a tactic: to leave two fortresses in his rear, who might combine their forces, was too dangerous.

Yet this place was not Nisibis, being nothing like as formidable, with walls in a poor state of repair and a smaller garrison. Sure it would succumb at some point, it did not require to be invested by his whole army so he detached the forces led by Arethas, as well as over a thousand of his bucellarii under John the Glutton, to raid across the Tigris.

Their task was to ravage at will in a region of Persia that had not seen conflict for decades and, being well watered and fertile, was rich because of it. To ensure John was not once more tempted to exceed his orders he was accompanied by Trajan. Once Sisauranon was captured and provided the information sent back by his raiders promised good rewards, Flavius would advance with the whole army to join them.

The first indication that he might take Sisauranon quickly came with the capture of a party of deserters, their reason for flight the fact that the city was so short of food they had been put on starvation rations. They also informed him it was full of Byzantine captives taken on the previous Sassanid incursion, it being the numbers of those, and the ransoms they might fetch, that had left the fortress lacking in sustenance for the defenders.

An envoy was despatched to negotiate with promises that surrender would mean life and a degree of liberty for the citizens, or death for all if they forced a continued assault. The fighting men were mercenaries and would be sent back to Constantinople, with a recommendation from Flavius that Justinian employ them far away in Italy. The terms were accepted and Flavius marched in as the one-time defenders, and the Byzantine captives, marched west under escort.

Waiting for news of his raid across the Tigris, the army was troubled by a serious outbreak of plague in the ranks, brought on by contact with the inhabitants of Sisauranon. Many were dying, which had him move his men to a series of camps out of the newly captured city, yet reconnaissance parties sent east brought back no news of Arethas or the Glutton, this while their commander had a problem in that time was running out: the sixty days he had promised to the duces of Phoenice Libanensis was nearly up and that would severely cut a force already short on effectives due to disease, so it was time for another conference.

‘I cannot ask the contingents from Damascus and Palmyra to remain and you can all see how our effectives are diminished by sickness. Men are dying every day and our only hope is to get away from here so that at least some may recover their health in more benign locations.’

As always he looked around the assembled officers to seek to discern if there was disagreement, not that he anticipated any. They would have to give up Sisauranon but that was a necessary price to pay because it could not be held; any garrison left behind would be beyond succour should the Sassanids seek to retake it, and besides, it would act as a magnet for the Byzantine garrison at Dara, perhaps drawing them into a fight on terms chosen by the Sassanids.

‘We have the city treasury and we will destroy the walls prior to departure, so rendering it useless to Khusrow.’ The option to advance was posed as a rhetorical question and one he answered himself. ‘We have no idea as to what lies across the Tigris, and given our numbers it is my opinion it would be a risky venture to probe further into Persia without knowing it to be clear of our enemies.’

A murmur of agreement followed the summation. ‘So, I will send messages to our forward elements that I intend to withdraw and that they should do likewise. We will send the sick ahead to the coast and form up to their rear to protect them. Best to think of fighting another day than to risk being caught away from our own lands when we are weakened.’

John the Glutton and Trajan caught up with Flavius before he reached Dara, not hard given he was retiring at a snail’s pace so as not to tire his soldiers, while also seeking to deceive the enemy in Nisibis and leave them confused as to his intentions. The number of laden carts they returned with testified to the success of their mission, carrying enough booty to gladden the hearts of the most avaricious of plunderers, spoils that would be distributed throughout the army.

‘Arethas?’

‘He parted company from us when we decided to retire,’ John responded. ‘Which was forced upon us even before we received your orders.’

A questioning look demanded he continue. ‘Arethas sent hunting parties out to bring in food and also to warn against any enemy approaching from the east, which was just as well. They spotted a strong force of Persians that massively outnumbered us, so flight was our only option. With so much plunder, which might slow us down, Arethas suggested we divide it before retiring-’

‘To which you agreed?’ Flavius asked.

‘Yes. He undertook to bring his half back directly and we would bring the rest by a different route.’

‘Photius, send out scouts to the east to look for Arethas.’

‘I thought he would get here ahead of us,’ said Trajan, the look on his face one of confusion. ‘He did ask us to delay a day and give him a head start.’

‘Well, let us hope for all our sakes he is not far off. If he brings in anything like that which you fetched, Khusrow might drop dead from apoplexy.’

Slow as the army moved no sign came of Arethas or any of his Ghassanids. Questioned more, both John and Trajan admitted they had seen no sign themselves of any Persian forces and once back at Dara, and still no sign, the solidus finally dropped.

The cunning Ghassanid leader had taken half of the plunder, but not to share with his Byzantine allies; he would keep it to himself and his people. Word came eventually that he was indeed back in his own territory and so were the spoils. He would stay there too, for to venture out and risk being caught by Flavius would have cost him his head.

News also came about the activities of Khusrow and it proved the spies wrong; the information that he was attacking the Huns turned out to be false. He had instead led his forces into the province of Lazica, which bordered the eastern edge of the Euxine Sea, an important region for that alone, doubly so since it bordered the Caucasus Mountains and the passes that led into Scythia, home to any number of barbarian tribes, most troublingly the numerous and murderous Alans.

The reasons, hard to fathom originally, emerged over time and it all fell to the depredations of those who had been given the rule over Lazica by Justinian, though they did turn out to be clients of John the Cappadocian. By levying excessive taxation, manipulating the courts and the setting up of monopolies of food, oil and wine they had, to enrich themselves, bled Lazica dry.

This so alienated the local tribes that their ruler had sent to Khusrow and offered him suzerainty over their kingdom in place of obeisance to Constantinople. Petra, Justinian’s stronghold in the region, had fallen and the old Greek province of Colchis was now firmly in the hands of the Sassanids.

Flavius was left to lament that the policy of his was the right one, to always treat the indigenes, whoever they were, as if they were your own citizens and never to seek to fleece them for private gain. That said, anger at what had occurred had to be suborned to what was happening now; Khusrow had his victories and would now be marching south, hopefully taking too long about it so that, with winter approaching, he would not have to be faced until the following year.

An equally troubling problem was the presence at Dara of Antonina, newly arrived from Constantinople. Flavius had been told of her intention to travel to Dara outside Sisauranon, with an added plea that her husband should send to Theodosius, skulking according to her in Ephesus, to make his way to Dara also, a plea he ignored and was careful to keep from the ears of Photius since the mere mention of the name sent his stepson into a fury.

As usual she arrived as if there could be nothing amiss, which produced from her husband a degree of bitter respect for her sheer effrontery. Added to that, Antonina felt she had reason to be proud seeing she brought with her news of the downfall of John the Cappadocian, whom she had embroiled in a plot to replace Justinian. Cock-a-hoop about her success, she was unable to understand why, when she had finished relating her adventures, her husband did not equally relish the tale.

She had befriended John’s daughter, flattering a young innocent in order to get to the father. Initially guarded, the Cappadocian had fallen for her blandishments, in which Antonina had invoked the name of Flavius to insist that there was no real enmity between them. She assured him they shared a creeping despair over the way the empire was being run as a dual franchise by a useless emperor and his devious consort, to whom John was a mortal enemy.

‘I told him he was at risk and must act to save himself, also that you regretted turning down the offer the Goths made and would be ready to back him if he chose to overthrow Justinian and Theodora to ensure better rule.’

‘You used my name?’

Antonina cackled then. ‘Such is the old fool’s vanity that he actually believed me.’

‘You said I would support him?’

‘Don’t look so upset. It was only to seduce him into indiscretions. You were never in any danger because of it.’

‘And what did he think he was going to get from me?’

‘Military support, of course. You would pledge the loyalty of the armies in Asia Minor and appeal to the citizens in the Hippodrome to proclaim him. Against both of you Justinian would be lucky to escape with his life, which was not something the Cappadocian was prepared to extend to Theodora.’

‘Proclaim him from the imperial box.’

‘Where else?’

‘For which I would have to have been in the city.’

‘Are you being deliberately dense, Flavius? It was never intended that you should act, only that the Cappadocian would reveal himself. What I would have given to see his face when Narses had the palace guards arrest him.’

‘For being drawn into a conspiracy that he had no part in starting.’

‘You sound as though you feel sorry for the fat old goat. He was conspiring, all right, all he needed was a bit of a push to act and show his hand.’ Her face changed, to take on a sly look. ‘He was not beyond hinting, by the way, that any bargain could be sealed on my body.’

‘An offer I am sure you encouraged him to think likely.’

Suppressed it might be, but there was no doubting the fury in Flavius’s voice.

‘Why are you so angry? You hated the man.’

‘Because, Antonina, I recall our previous conversation about John, whom you were encouraging me to challenge and then to kill. If you acted against him it was to please Theodora, so I have to suspect that your attempts to embroil me in murder were on her behalf as well.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘Is it, Antonina?’ Flavius had to steel himself then to say what came next, to get out into the open what still disturbed him in the dead of night. ‘Is it nonsense that Theodosius is nothing to you but a platonic friend?’

‘I have told you-’

‘You have lied, just as you lied with such ease to the Cappadocian, and I have been as much a fool as John. Theodosius is such a platonic friend, I am told he fled to Ephesus to avoid your attention to him, so embarrassing had it become-’

‘A lie,’ she spat, ‘and one no doubt related to you by that ingrate son of mine.’

‘No, Antonina,’ came the weary response. ‘It is the truth and one of which I am sick. You have no idea of how much I wanted to believe you were being truthful, and I would guess no notion of how much of a fool I feel at this moment.’

‘Flavius,’ she protested, in a way that indicated this was no great matter and would soon be solved.

The shout was so startling and loud, echoing off the stone walls, that she physically recoiled. ‘Solomon!’ His domesticus, in the company of several armed men rushed into the chamber, to be given orders in a near whisper. ‘Take the Lady Antonina and confine her to some part of the fortress, I need not know where.’

‘Husband,’ she squealed, but to no avail; all that lay before her was a face made of stone.

‘Do not speak, for if you do you will keep lying, and I tell you, that so troubles me I know not what I would do, for I am not immune to rage. Best you are out of my sight and for some of the time out of my mind. Be satisfied that I cannot do that which would be recommended to me by one who has known that which I have refused to accept.’

‘Photius! You choose to believe him in place of your own wife?’

‘Wife? You were once that but as of now, you are not. I should take you down to the cistern, Antonina, and drown you. But I cannot, so I grant you life but know that is all you will ever have from me in future.’

‘I am innocent.’

‘Solomon, take her out of my sight.’