Count Belisarius

CHAPTER 19

Now my story enters on a phase in which I have no pleasure, since it was one of great unhappiness for my mistress Antonina and greater unhappincss, even, for Belisarius, her husband; and this despite a remarkable victory that he won over the Persians. But the evil must be told with the good.

My mistress, as I have said, remained in Constantinople while Belisarius was sent against King Khosrou in the late spring of the year of our Lord 541. He had spent as much of his time as his Court duties permitted in training the Gothic recruits of the Household Regiment in the use of the bow and his own well-tried system of cavalry tactics. But there was a very different sort of fighting material waiting for him in the East. On his arrival at Daras — a place, he wrote, sweetened for him by the memory of her visit to him there — he found the Imperial Forces sunk into a sadly low state of discipline and training; and, as for courage, they trembled at the very name of Persia. His own 7,000 men were all that he could count upon for serious fighting. Many regular regiments, of full strength according to the Army List and drawing full pay and rations, were short of several hundred men, and of the so-called trained men one-half were unarmed labourers employed on improving the fortifications of Daras and other places-according to the plan which Belisarius had himself drawn up twelve years before, and of which the necessity had only lately been discovered.

King Khosrou differed from most Eastern monarchs with military ambitions, whose practice is to undertake easy objectives in person while consigning the hazardous ones to their lieutenants: contrariwise, he always chose the post of greatest difficulty. On the invitation of the native Colchians, who were being shamefully squeezed by Justinian's tax-gatherers (though their land was only a Roman protectorate, not a possession), he invaded Colchis by a route through the foot-hills of the Caucasus which no Persian army had ever taken before and which had always been considered impossible. He had sent a large force of pioneers ahead of him to hack a road, through virgin forest and across the face of precipices, sufficiently broad and firm even for the transport of elephants. His design was not suspected, because he had given out that the expedition was against a tribe of Huns that had been raiding into Persian Iberia. To be short: he penetrated to the coast of Colchis, captured the principal Roman fortress of Petra, killed the Roman Governor, was acclaimed by the Colchians as a deliverer, took possession of the country.

Belisarius heard of the expedition from his spies across the Mesopotamian border, though no news of its outcome was obtainable as yet. He decided that the only hope for Colchis lay in his drawing Khosrou back in a hurry by some counter-stroke. He summoned all available forces from the various garrison cities and spoke very bluntly to his generals, reproaching them for having neglected the forces under their command. He threatened that, unless these were properly armed, equipped, and brought up to strength within two months' time he would see to it that they were all degraded in rank. He also insisted that as generalissimo he expected unhesitating obedience. 'Nevertheless,' he said, 'I have been ten years in the Western Empire, and cannot be expected to appreciate the present strategic position in every detail. I should be glad to have a frank opinion from every one of you as to the practicability of an immediate cavalry-raid across the frontier. The Great King is far away. Though he has no doubt left his frontier fortresses well guarded, this is perhaps an excellent opportunity for avenging Ids sack of Antioch and for restoring the offensive capacities of our men. The Emperor has sent me here for the express purpose of upholding the honour of the Roman Army.'

Boutzes, anxious to regain Belisarius's good opinion of him, agreed that a raid would be an excellent thing: and so did Peter, the Governor of Daras, for the same reason. But the joint-commanders of the Thracian troops from the Lebanon — the same two who had betrayed Antioch by escaping with all their men from the Daphne gate — made difficulties. If they came with Belisarius, they said, there was nothing to prevent the King of the Saracens from raiding Syria and Palestine in their absence.

Belisarius answered: 'I have been away from the East, as I say, for ten years, but have not forgotten so much as you may suppose. These Saracens are about to begin their Ramadan fast, when out of respect for their Sun God they fast all the daylight hours and abstain from any fighting for two whole months.' This silenced them.

A few days later Belisarius led his field army of 15,000 men across the Persian frontier and encamped about eight miles from Nisibis. With him, too, came 5,000 Arabs under the same King Harith ibn Gabala of Bostra, who had deserted him ten years before during the Unnecessary Battle, but who had been freely forgiven by Justinian for his perfidy. The Persians had learned such contempt for our armies that it was likely that they would leave the protection of their strong fortifications and come out against Belisarius. He hoped thus to defeat them and, heading off their main retreat and allowing only a squadron or so to escape to Nisibis, to capture the city, by sending a party of men, dressed in Persian armour, to mingle with these fugitives and keep the gates open for him. However, this plan was opposed by Peter, who thought that the Persians should be intimidated by a nearer approach. He insisted on encamping only a mile and a half away from the city.

Belisarius sent a message to Peter, saying that his courage was commendable but that if he fought and defeated the Persians where he was encamped they would have to retreat only a short distance to reach safety; and that he was acting directly against orders in taking up that position.

Peter replied: 'I served with you some years ago on the Euphrates, where, though the Persians were then hundreds of miles away from a fortress, you hesitated to attack them. I pride myself that I am not afraid of the Persians. As for obedience, I am informed that recently at Ravenna you overrode the orders of the Emperor himself. Yet no harm came of it for you.'

Belisarius wrote again: ' Circumstances alter cases. However, I do not propose to argue with you. If, against my orders, you maintain your bravado, do at least, I beg of you, be careful of a surprise attack, especially at the dinner-hour.'

The weather being extremely hot at midday, Peter's men took off their armour and stacked their arms, and a number of them went out in twos and threes to steal melons from the kitchen-gardens a few hundred yards from the walls of Nisibis. The Persian cavalry made a sudden sally from three gates and chased the melon-stealers back to their palisaded camp. The camp guards snatched up their arms in a hurry and ran to the help of their comrades, but were driven back in confusion. Peter was soon forced to abandon his camp with the loss not only of fifty men but of his regimental standard.

Fortunately Belisarius's look-out men had seen a cloud of dust from the direction of Nisibis, and reported this at once. It was a standing order in Belisarius's camp that dinner should be served in relays, only one-third of the men being off duty at a time; so within one minute of the trumpeter's blowing the Alarm the Household cuirassiers were pelting down the Nisibis road to Peter's rescue. Belisarius was at their head, with his Gothic recruits mounted on heavy horses, and found the Persians busy reforming their ranks after a hurried plunder of the camp. Separating into two columns for a double flank attack, they converged on the enemy at a gallop, shooting from the saddle and charging home with their long lances. The enemy arrows did not stop them, since, as I have already explained, Persian bows are too light for effective use against heavily armoured cavalry. The Goths had the satisfaction of breaking the Persian line at the first onset and driving them back in confusion on Nisibis. Peter's regiment was saved — but at the expense of Belisarius's plans; for the Persians, of whom 150 men fell in the skirmish, realized that Belisarius was back again on the frontier and had lost none of his former vigour. They did not venture to go out against him from the city; but displayed Peter's regimental standard from one of their towers, wreathing it in black sausages for derision.

Now that Belisarius had no hope of taking Nisibis by surprise, he decided to push on beyond it, knowing that no ordinary siege-craft could reduce it in less than twelve months or a year. The next fortress to the cast was Sisauranum, some thirty-five miles distant; the garrison there, including the local militia, consisted of 4,000 men. Belisarius could afford to leave Nisibis with its garrison of 6,000 in his rear, but not both Sisauranum and Nisibis. He decided therefore to lay siege to Sisaruranum with his main forces, leaving a small containing force behind at Nisibis, and to send King Harith with his Arabs raiding across the River Tigris into the province of Assyria.

This part of Assyria had been free from Roman raids for centuries. The inhabitants lived in perfect security and were extremely rich. With King Khosrou absent in Colchis and the Persian frontier forces pinned in Nisibis and Sisauranum, King Harith's men found such easy plundering as they had never enjoyed before in all their lives. King Harith considered that it would be a great pity to share all this wealth with the Roman armies in his rear, as the agreement was, and therefore decided to return to his Court at Bostra by another way. With him had come a squadron of the Household Regiment under Trajan, and another of Thracians under John the Epicure, to stiffen the Arab forces in case any serious resistance was encountered. But Harith deceived Trajan and John by instructing his scouts to report that a large army of Persians had cut in from the North behind the expedition and were lying in wait for their return at the Tigris bridge by which they had crossed. He announced that he was going home at once. John the Epicure, encumbered with booty, baulked at dealing with a whole army by himself and decided to follow Harith's example. Trajan, being his junior in rank, was forced to keep him company. The whole expedition therefore marched southward along the River Tigris until they came to the bridge at Nineveh, where they crossed over; John the Epicure and Trajan then returned to Roman territory across the desert by way of Singara and the lower reaches of the Aborrhas. King Harith reached Bostra in safety, with his booty, after a still longer march. (Justinian once more forgave this perfidious Arab, and some years afterwards, when he destroyed an army of the King of the Saracens, raised him to patrician rank, and received him with honour at Constantinople.)

Meanwhile Belisarius was expecting word from King Harith — or, failing him, from Trajan — as to what progress had been made and what Persian forces were stationed in Assyria. Receiving no message at all, he began to grow anxious. But he succeeded in capturing Sisauranum: being crowded with peasant refugees, it surrendered from famine after a six weeks' siege. Unlike the frontier cities of Daras and Nisibis, this city kept no permanent store of food as a safeguard against siege, and the suddenness of Belisarius's appearance had not permitted the collection of stocks of corn from the surrounding country. Belisarius's terms were generous: a free pardon for all the citizens — who were Christians of Roman descent, this being one of the cities handed over to Persia a century and a half before by the disgraceful treaty of Jovian — and for the 800 Persian horsemen of the garrison a choice between common slavery and enlistment in the Emperor Justinian's army. They chose to serve under Justinian and were later transferred to Italy to fight against the Goths — as the Goths enlisted in the Household Regiment had been transferred to Mesopotamia to fight against the Persians. The fortifications of Sisauranum were razed to the ground.

Still no news came from King Harith, and Belisarius feared that the whole expeditionary force had been ambushed and destroyed. He now called a council of war and pressed for an advance across the Tigris — perhaps Harith was still holding out in some captured city or other, waiting for relief. But not one of the generals would support him in this project. Those from the Lebanon insisted on returning with their troops, now that the Saracens' Ramadan was over; while the others pointed out that their troops were suffering so severely from the heat that fully one-third of them were incapacitated for fighting. They began a disorderly clamour, the refrain of which was: 'Take us back again. We will not cross the Tigris. We refuse to go farther. Take us back again.'

Thus by the bravado of Peter, the treachery of King Harith, the credulousncss of John the Epicure, the cowardice of these other generals, Belisarius was robbed of what might have been the greatest of his victories. For when King Khosrou in Colchis heard of the Arab raid in Assyria and of Belisarius's capture of Sisauranum, he came hurrying back by the road which passes to the westward of Lake Van and along the eastern bank of the Tigris. He had already lost nearly one-half of his army by a cholera epidemic. He now lost one-half of what remained to him by a breakdown of his food supply — the frightening news of the cholera turned his commissariat-trains back to Iberia. He was delayed further by a landslide which carried away his new road at the most difficult point of the journey, so that he had to cut it afresh in order to pass. If Belisarius had now been able to cross the Tigris he would have intercepted Khosrou and, the Persians being in a pitiful state of starvation and disorder, would doubtless have added a third captured king to the gifts he had made to Justinian.

But it was not to be: Belisarius could not persuade his generals to inarch. He laid his sick in carts and retired past Nisibis to Daras.

In Constantinople strange things had been happening. To begin with, there appeared in the city an illegitimate son of Theodora's, born to her in Egypt during that one unlucky year when she went off to Pentapolis from the club-house. The father was a person of no importance — an Arabian merchant, recently dead; he had taken the boy (whom he christened John) off her hands. Theodora had told Justinian that she had never had a child; and when he conferred patrician rank on her she signed a document solemnly affirming this. Cappadocian John's hold on Theodora was his knowledge that this child existed: his agents in Egypt had brought the story to him, but without any details to confirm it. Theodora could not be sure whether or not he was in possession of any evidence that would carry weight with Justinian; she herself had never been able to discover where her son was. At last the young man, John the Bastard, was told the secret of his birth by his dying father and came to Constantinople from Aden on the Red Sea, where they lived. He approached Theodora through my mistress Antonina, whose first husband, he knew, had been a business associate of his father's. If he expected to be greeted with maternal tears and kisses and given a prominent position at Court he was much mistaken. Theodora wasted no time, but declared him a lunatic and shut him up in a Bedlam, where he soon died. She had not loved the father, why should she love the son? Besides, he was a greedy, vain, illiterate fellow.

Theodora, with sighs of relief, told my mistress: 'Now at last, my dearest, we can settle our account with Cappadocian John: I no longer have anything to fear from him.'

But Theodora knew that until Theodosius was brought back from Ephesus my mistress would be in no state of mind to assist in any plot of revenge. So, though my mistress was convinced that Theodosius would never be tempted to leave his retreat, Theodora let the Bishop of Ephesus, one of her Monophysite nominees, know that he must contrive to send the monk Theodosius back to Constantinople at once. The Bishop ordered the Abbot of the monastery, which had a very easy rule, to impose such heavy penances and restrictions on Theodosius that he would voluntarily demand absolution from his vows.

My mistress's hopes began to revive a little at this news, and she began thinking of ways to entrap and ruin Cappadocian John. Her first step was to cultivate the acquaintance of John's only daughter, Euphemia, a clever girl to whom he was devoted. Theodora had chosen a husband for her whom she did not in the least wish to marry. My mistress, playing upon Euphemia's bitterness against Theodora, gradually won her sympathies. Euphemia asked her one evening: 'illustrious Lady Antonina, dearest friend, why is it that you look so sad these days and scarcely smile at all? Is it anxiety for your brave husband at the wars?'

My mistress, who certainly had no intention of confiding to Euphemia how much she missed Theodosius, answered shortly: 'I have little anxiety for my husband's safety in the field.' Then, by a sudden inspiration she continued: 'What distresses me is that the Emperor is so unreasonably suspicious of my husband's loyalty. I fear far more for his safety when he is here at Constantinople.'

Euphemia exclaimed: 'Suspicious of Belisarius's loyalty! Why, nobody in the Empire is so devoted to the Emperor as he, surely?'

My mistress rose, carefully shut all the doors, and then whispered: 'I have long been wishing to confide in someone, dearest child, for my heart is full to bursting with indignation at the ungrateful treatment that my noble Belisarius has received. He has enlarged the Emperor's dominions by tens of thousands of square miles and his treasure by tens of millions in gold, and brought him home captive two powerful kings — not to mention his quelling of the Victory riots, when the Emperor nearly lost his throne. But this miserable Justinian is jealous and treats him like a dog or criminal. Belisarius told me before he left: "Better any other Emperor than this! I feel absolved from my vows of loyalty to him, because of my prolonged ill-treatment at his hands."'

Euphemia replied: 'You and Belisarius have only yourselves to blame, dearest friend; for though you have the power, you hesitate to use it.'

My mistress replied without hesitation: 'But child, we cannot undertake a military revolution unless we have the assistance of powerful ministers at Court. Your illustrious father, for instance, does not see eye to eye with us at all. If we had him on our side… By the way, he is the very man for Emperor in Justinian's place. My husband himself has no ambitions in that way, as you know: he is interested only in soldiering.'

Euphemia's anxiety to escape from her unwelcome marriage made her particularly eloquent in presenting the case to her father. But her task was an easy one, because Cappadocian John cherished a secret belief that he would eventually wear the Diadem. An old astrologer at the Hippodrome, perhaps the same who had prophesied so truly for Theodora and my mistress, had many years before told him: 'My son, the robe of Augustus will one day be put upon you by the Palace soldiers, and that will be a day of great rejoicing at Court.' John was therefore pleased beyond measure at Euphemia's account of the conversation. He told Euphemia to assure my mistress Antonina that she could count on him absolutely in all things that would contribute to Justinian's downfall. My mistress embraced Euphemia and swore by the Holy Ghost that her father could depend on Belisarius and herself for the same vigour of purpose that he himself displayed.

Before the plot developed any further, Theodosius, to my mistress Antonina's inexpressible joy, returned to us from Ephesus, weary of the penitential rigours that the Abbot had imposed upon him. He was a monk no longer and soon resumed his old ways — rich robes, perfumes, singing and guitar-playing, fashionable sneers, lively frolics about nothing. How to explain this change of mood — as unaccountable as his sudden plunge into the religious life? Well, there are characters of his sort, especially among the Thracians, whose contradictoriness we could waste a long time in discussing — their love of being discussed being perhaps the clue to the mystery. So let us say no more about Theodosius's motives, contenting ourselves with an account of his words and deeds.

My mistress's son Photius happened to be out of the city at the time, though he had been staying with us ever since Belisarius's departure. He had incurred enormous debts by commercial speculation at Antioch before the city was destroyed, and from betting at the races and the bear-fighting. If he could not soon meet his obligations he would be degraded, as a bankrupt, from the Patrician Order; but he felt sure that his mother would come to the rescue to avoid a family scandal. Perhaps she would have done so, had Theodosius not told her a story that angered her exceedingly. He said that he had run away to Ephesus because Photius had threatened to kill both her and him unless he left the city at once: this was why he had been so reluctant to return.

A great to-do followed. My mistress, of course, refused to pay Photius's debts; and because, on hearing the story, she had asked for police protection for Theodosius and herself and the whole matter had therefore become public, she sent Belisarius a full report. She also threatened Photius with severe punishment at Theodora's hands.

Photius hurriedly crossed the Bosphorus and took a post-chaise to the Persian frontier, to throw himself on Belisarius's protection. Exactly what he told Belisarius I do not know, but the gist of it was that when Theodosius went to Ephesus the second time it was with the intention of returning to my mistress at Constantinople as soon as Belisarius was out of the way; that he had so returned, and that the two of them were now living in open sin together. He further complained that my mistress had stolen a large sum of his money from him and conferred it on her paramour; and that in addition to having brought him to the verge of bankruptcy, she was persecuting him in every possible way because he knew, too much about her.

Belisarius heard this horrible talc from Photius on the very day that he was holding his council of war at Sisauranum. To think that it influenced him in his decision to retire from Persian territory might be natural, were it not so manifest that he put his duty as a soldier before all personal considerations. At least his military associates should have been aware of this trait in him. Nevertheless, the suggestion went the rounds, given circulation by the very generals who had been most timorous about crossing the Tigris.

After the council of war, Belisarius had further talk with Photius, who swore by the Holy Ghost — the most terrible oath that a Christian can swear, and one which if broken consigns the soul, they say, to everlasting torment in Hell — that he spoke the truth. To support his testimony he had brought two of my fellow-domestics as witnesses, and a Senator who happened to be one of his principal creditors and was nearly bankrupt himself. These, with Photius, succeeded in convincing Belisarius. Perhaps his disappointment with the campaign and the shaky state of his health after a month of dysentery played a part in confusing his usually clear powers of judgement. Furthermore, it should be said in his defence that my mistress's relations with Theodosius ccrtainly did give a very mysterious impression. Even I, as I have already confessed earlier in this work, could never make up my mind as to their true character. At all events, Belisarius succumbed to an attack of jealous rage; all his officers were aghast at the change in him. For once in his life he forgot to be patient or gentle with his men, acting just like any other general, except that in his furies he refrained from blasphemy. Nor was his condition improved by a letter from my mistress, in which she wrote that Photius had escaped from Constantinople with his mouth full of slander and that she was following in haste to fill it with mud. She informed him that Theodosius, for fear of assassination by Photius's friends, was temporarily returning to Ephesus in her absence.

However, the affair of Cappadocian John had to be settled before she set out; otherwise the plot might turn against her. So she sent me to Cappadocian John to say that she was setting out for Daras at once, for the purpose of persuading Belisarius that a move for Justinian's overthrow and supersession could now be safely made. I arranged that

Cappadocian John should meet my mistress secretly on the following midnight in an orchard of Belisarius's estate at Rufinianae, a suburb of Constantinople across the Bosphorus: this would be her first stopping-place after leaving the city. She had no doubt but that he would fall into her trap — for had she not used the name of the Holy Ghost to Euphemia in asseverating the earnestness of Belisarius's intentions and her own?

My mistress reported my success to Theodora, who took into her confidence Narses (now on bad terms with Cappadocian John) and Marccllus, the Commander of the Imperial Guards. Narses and Marcellus went to Rufinianae in disguise, with a party of soldiers; and by the agreed hour were at their posts in the orchard — some of them concealed behind a cistern and others among the boughs of the applc-trees. They say that Justinian had got wind that something was astir, but that it was reported to him as a genuine plot against the Throne; and that he sent this message to Cappadocian John: 'We know all. Desist, or you the. Your confederate Antonina is under our displeasure.' But if it is true that Cappadocian John received this message, he must have considered it more dangerous to reply to it than to continue with the plot, and taken the reference to my mistress as a clear proof of her sincerity. However it was, when Cappadocian John slipped out of the city with a party of armed attendants to keep his appointment that night, he had made up his mind to accompany her to Daras.

It was pitch dark in the orchard, and my teeth were chattering with apprehension as I stood waiting beside my mistress Antonina, thinking how much was at stake. Like her, I was wearing a mail shirt under my cloak. At midnight a glove came flying over the garden-gate; I threw it back — the agreed signal. John was admitted with his twelve Cappadocian guards.

He and my mistress clasped hands like true conspirators, and at once he began cursing Justinian for a monster and a tyrant and a coward; it was not necessary for her to commit herself at all. And it is a curious thing that, as he raved on, it suddenly came to my mistress that the mysterious superintendent of police who had spoken to her in the church that day long ago, as she was on her way to Blachcrnae from the Palace, had been John himself in disguise; for he now happened to mispronounce an uncommon Greek word in just the same way that the other man had.

She could not help laughing at this. Cappadocian John paused, suspicious at once, and began to look about him. Then Narses and Marcellus sprang from their ambuscade with a shout, and a fierce fight began. My mistress, to keep up the farce, cried out: 'Oh, Oh, we are betrayed,' and pretended to struggle with Narses. I ran off. Marcellus was struck down and seriously wounded in the neck before the twelve Cappadocians were overpowered. In the confusion their master climbed over a wall and escaped.

If the foolish man had ridden straight back to the Palace and reported to Justinian that he had gone to Rufinianae on Justinian's own behalf, intending to trick Antonina into a public confession of her treachery, he might have been able to turn the tables on her. Instead, he grew panic-stricken and took sanctuary in St Irene's Church, so that when at dawn Theodora and Narses denounced him to Justinian there was no possible conclusion but that he was guilty.

This church of St Irene's, burned down during the Victory Riots, had been magnificently rebuilt by Justinian, and it was a sanctuary that he would never have ventured to violate. So Cappadocian John suffered no more severe punishment than the confiscation of all his estates and — strange proceeding — a condemnation to take holy orders!

Cappadocian John became a priest much against his will, for he was thus debarred by law from ever again holding secular office. But the old prophecy was fulfilled. The Palace Guards put on him the robe of Augustus — that is to say the priestly robe of an archdeacon who had just died, whose name happened to be Augustus; and there was great rejoicing in the Palace, where he was much hated. He was sent from St Irene s to a church at Cyzicus, a trading city on the Asiatic shore of the Sea of Marmora. Justinian was vexed, not so much that Cappadocian John had attempted to betray him as that Theodora was thus so triumphantly justified: he had always refused to believe her when she denounced John as a traitor. To spite her, he subsequently restored most of John's fortune to him, in the name of Christian charity; John lived in peace and security at Cyzicus for two or three years more. But Justinian could not thwart Theodora's resolve to harry her enemy. The Bishop of Cyzicus, under whose authority Cappadocian John had come, was informed by her that the new priest must not be allowed to live an easy life. John was therefore kept to a scrupulously exact routine; which irked him greatly.

We continued our journey to Daras by land. When we reached the fortress my mistress was met by Trajan, who had returned safely with his force and his plunder from Assyria. He led her to the room where Belisarius awaited her. There Belisarius, ignoring her affectionate greeting, confronted her at once with Photius's sworn testimony as to her adultery, and the depositions of the Senator and the two domestics. He shouted angrily at her: 'This is the end, Antonina. Your conduct as my wife should have been such as to make it impossible for me ever to reproach you with your past. That reproach you now hear from me: I am reminded of what your condition was when I first became acquainted with you.'

She met his severity with a severity of her own. Taking the parchment from his hand, she read it coldly, ripped it across, and let the pieces fall to the ground. She said that she would not demean herself by denying these charges, but in answer to his gross reproach of her she would say this: she could not feel any of the pain and misery that he clearly intended her to feel, but must think of him henceforward as a buffoon unworthy to be the husband of a woman like herself.

My mistress's demeanour was not a guilty one and, indeed, she fully expected to convince Belisarius that he was once more mistaken. But though Belisarius, in spite of his glowing rage, still loved her exceedingly, he could not return to his simple faith in her as readily as he had once done at Syracuse. He pressed her:' Do you mean to tell me, wife, that your son Photius would swear by the Holy Ghost unless he was certain, beyond all argument, that he was speaking the truth?'

She replied scornfully: 'Do you think that everyone takes an oath as seriously as yourself- especially one to so obscure a concept as the Holy Ghost? Did not our master Justinian once swear this oath to Vitalian on the Bread and Wine, and then break it cheerfully for urgent reasons of state, on the sophistical ground that Vitalian was a heretic? Why, the day before I left Constantinople I myself swore by the Holy Ghost, for what might also be called urgent reasons of state-and I cannot regard myself as a particularly dishonest woman.'

Then she told him the whole story of the plot against Cappadocian John. When Belisarius heard that she, his trusted wife Antonina, had solemnly pledged his honour for the sake of a freakish plot of revenge, he felt dizzy and was obliged to sit down on a stool. When his head cleared he asked her: 'Tell me, Antonina, have I served my Emperor so frivolously that anyone can be made to believe me capable of playing the traitor? What amorous or magical arts did you use with Cappadocian John to persuade him of this impossible thing? What rights over me do you think that you hold, that you dare to bandy my name among scoundrels? And what did you think to gain by this wickedness? Was it perhaps the Empress's protection for an incestuous union with our godson?'

Instead of defending herself, she attacked him in what she knew to be his most sensitive feelings: his religion and his manhood. 'It seems that all but myself are to benefit by your famous Christian forbearance. But who could say whether it was piety or cowardice that has resigned you to Justinian's contemptuous treatment of you 1 He has whipped you and kicked you like a dog, and like a dog you come crawling and fawning to his feet. In crediting you even in jest with a desire to regain your lost self-respect by rebellion I did you an honour that you did not deserve.'

Belisarius could stand no more. He called Trajan from the anteroom. 'Convey the Lady Antonina to her quarters and post a guard at the door. She is to remain under close arrest until further notice.'

Trajan was dumbfounded.

My mistress felt that here indeed was a Belisarius that she had never encountered before. She was frightened at the sudden chasm that gaped between them and at the dreadful things that she had said to him. But she was also indignant that her liberty to behave how she pleased had been challenged, and this affected her fir more strongly than his doubts of her chastity. She followed Trajan with a set face.

I shared in her confinement. For a long time all that she would say to me was the often-repeated: 'When the Empress releases mc it will be a bad day for my Lord Belisarius.'

I contrived to get word to the Empress of what had happened. Within a month, namely at the end of September, Belisarius was ordered to set my mistress Antonina free and return to Constantinople immediately. Our confinement had not been over-tedious, and my mistress had not been subjected to any indignities, Belisarius not being of a revengeful nature.

Photius had meanwhile gone to Ephesus to seize Theodosius and bring him back to Daras for punishment, though Belisarius had given him no such commission, and was indeed unaware of his intentions. Photius managed, by tricking the Bishop of Ephesus into believing that he was Theodora's agent, to remove Theodosius from the church of St John the Evangelist; he had fled here for sanctuary. Photius carried him away to the mountain resort in Cilicia where the sick men of the Household Regiment had been sent to recuperate; and there confined him in a hut, as if on Belisarius's own orders. He had already robbed Theodosius of a large sack of gold which he had brought with him to the church of St John. It was money that my mistress Antonina had asked him to bank at Ephesus — she made a practice of depositing money in different Asiatic cities, as a security against evil times.

When we arrived at Constantinople, Belisarius boldly came before the Empress and asked her for justice against my mistress Antonina, telling her all that had passed. But the Empress raged against him like a tigress and ordered him to be immediately reconciled with his wife.

He replied: 'So long as my godson Theodosius is alive no reconciliation is possible; for the Lady Antonina is bewitched by him, and has behaved towards me in a criminal manner.'

Theodora tried to break down his assurance: 'And I suppose that you have never once been unfaithful to Antonina in all your life'

'She would not accuse me of that, surely?'

Theodora was a just woman in her way, and took no direct action against Belisarius. But she could not refrain from injuring him through his intimate friends, charging them with real but forgotten offences that had been noted in the books for an emergency of this sort. Some were banished, others imprisoned. For Photius, worse was in store. Theodora sent after him to Cilicia and had him arrested for fraud, perjury, and theft; and, though of Consular rank, he was stripped and lashed and tortured before her until he confessed that he had lied to Belisarius, and until he revealed where Theodosius was being detained.

As for Photius's associate, the Senator: Theodora deprived him of all his property and had him immured in a dark underground stable, where a curiously loathsome treatment was meted out to him. He was tied to a manger with a short halter, his hands shackled behind him. There the poor wretch stood like an ass, unable to move or lie down, but ate and slept and fulfilled all the other needs of nature on his feet. This extreme torture was not only on my mistress Antonina's account: Theodora had a long-standing grudge against the man, who had once insulted her in our club-house days and called her a two-legged ass. He went mad after a few months of stable-life and began braying aloud; she then released him, but he died almost at once. Photius was confined in a comer of the same stable, though spared the manger and halter. I may as well tell the rest of his story here. Twice, with secret aid from Justinian, who had always found him a useful agent, Photius managed to escape from his prison and reach a city sanctuary: each time Theodora violated the sanctuary and returned him to his stable. On the third occasion he got dear away to Jerusalem, where he took monastic vows and remained safe from further vengeance.

Theodosius was brought back from Cilicia by Theodora's agents about the end of November. Theodora did not immediately report his arrival to my mistress, but told her gaily at the conclusion of the next audience: 'My dearest Lady Antonina, a most remarkable pearl has just come into my hands, and I should like your opinion of it. Will you come with me and judge of it?'

In the room to which Theodora led her, Theodosius was discovered, looking none the worse for his adventures and playing on a couch with one of the Palace cats. My poor mistress was speechless. She had refused to believe that he was safe in Cilicia, as Photius had said. Theodora left them alone together, after promising that in compensation for his sufferings and the calumnies sworn against him, Theodosius would be advanced to general's rank, and inviting him to live in her wing of the Palace, for safety's sake.

Thus this evil year came to an end, Belisarius and my mistress continuing estranged.

Early in the spring of the following year, the year of our Lord 542, King Khosrou once more crossed our frontier; this rime with the largest army that he had yet brought together, little short of 200,000 men. His forces included several divisions of the White Huns whom Justinian had unsuccessfully tried to bribe to war against him. Hearing of the success of the Syrian raid of the previous year, they volunteered to join Khosrou, in hopes of spoil. Khosrou again took the southern route along the right bank of the Euphrates. But, aware that he had already sucked Syria almost dry of its silver and gold, he decided to waste no time here, but to march forward into Palestine. Now that Antioch had been destroyed, Jerusalem was easily the richest city of the East. The Holy Places there glittered with treasure, and the pilgrim trade had enriched the inhabitants, both Jews and Christians, to a fabulous degree.

After Belisarius's recall the command in the East had been entrusted to Boutzces. But Boutzes shut himself up in the fortress of Hierapolis with his small army, and was afraid even to send out scouts for news of Kliosrou's progress. He wrote to Justinian asking for at least 50,000 reinforcements, though well aware that to raise such an army Justinian must denude the home provinces of their entire garrisons — a large expedition had recently been sent to Italy, consisting of all available reserves of regular troops.

Justinian called Belisarius to him and said: 'Most loyal and excellent general, we forgive you all the evil you have done us in the past and remember only your services. Take what men you have with you and go immediately to Syria to protect our holy city of Jerusalem from this heathen King, who, we are informed by our General Boutzes, has boasted that it will be his before the Easter festival. If you do this we will love you for ever more.'

Belisarius was too respectful a subject to argue with his Emperor that he had never done him any evil; and swallowed the reproach. It was his view that so long as a man acted uprightly and according to his own conscience such insults could not harm him. There is a Christian saying, that to forgive your enemy and to return good for evil is like heaping coals of fire upon his head. Justinian's hair was constantly being singed by the warmth of Belisarius's unexampled services. A paradox: if from some small touch of rebelliousness, some pettiness of injured pride, some slight defeat, Belisarius had ranged himself with Justinian's other generals and become a candidate for forgiveness, all would have been well. But nothing is so galling to a man of Justinian's character as to be dependent for his fame and the secure tenure of his throne on a man not only immeasurably more kingly than himself in every respect, but one who never seemed to make a mistake. Time after time, Belisarius accomplished the seemingly impossible, and Justinian felt more and more humiliated to stand so heavily in his debt. I shall have more to write upon this head before I have done.

Belisarius set out for Hierapolis with twenty men, using relays of post-horses and travelling eighty miles a day. He ordered the remainder of the Household Regiment to follow as soon as possible, and during his passage through Cilicia collected his now recovered sick from Daras, 1,500 in number. A messenger, instructed to ride ahead and take the fastest horse from each post-house, arrived at Hierapolis three days before him and announced his approach. As Belisarius was crossing the Cilician border into Syria this messenger met him with a letter from Boutzes urging him to take refuge in Hierapolis and assist in its defence.' For it is essential that you should seek safety and not expose yourself to capture by the Persians, who would regard this as a greater victory than the capture of a whole province.'

Belisarius returned a characteristic reply: 'Arc you unaware that King Khosrou is threatening the capture of Jerusalem? Be sure, I never fight a battle if I can possibly avoid doing so; but to seek safety in Hicrapolis while the Persians were marching on Jerusalem, through territory almost destitute of troops, I would consider the act of a traitor. Come to mc at Carchemish with all your men. It is better to face King Khosrou in the open. Five hundred men will suffice for the defence of Hierapolis.'

Belisarius encamped at Carchemish. He had already been informed by smoke-signal from down the river that King Khosrou's army included several divisions of infantry. He argued from this that Khosrou did not intend this time to raid across the desert to Chalcis, but to follow up the river until he reached Zeugma, with its hospitable and unfortressed road to Antioch. But before coming to Zeugma Khosrou would have to pass by Hierapolis and Carchemish (Carchemish is one day's march down the river from Zeugma, but Hierapolis three days' march, a little to the westward). He would be surprised to find an army opposing him at Carchemish, an open town, instead of being locked up safely in Hicrapolis. To Carchemish presently came the remaining 5,000 men of the Household Regiment, and Boutzces from Hicrapolis with 1,000, and 2,000 more from Carrhae and Zeugma. This made 13,000 men in all.

King Khosrou, travelling slowly with his 200,000, had now reached Barbalissus, where the Euphrates makes its right-angled turn. He did not know what was best for him to do. He had expected that the mere threat of his approach would clear the way for him, but his scouts reported a large Roman army at Carchemish, commanded by Belisarius. He could not now raid into Palestine with his cavalry alone, because that would mean leaving his infantry behind: unsupported by cavalry and unprotected by walls, it would be an easy prey to the enemy. He could proceed up the river and fight with this army at Carchemish; but, in order to do so, would it not be wise first to capture Hierapolis, which threatened his flank? And when had Belisarius ever lost a battle fought on the defensive? If he only knew what forces Belisarius commanded he could decide whether or not to risk a battle. He therefore sent an ambassador to Belisarius, ostensibly to discuss peace terms, but actually to look about him and report on the condition of the Imperial Army.

Belisarius, being warned that the Ambassador was on his way, guessed his intentions. He went out a few miles beyond Carchemish with the Household Regiment and encamped on a hill; and there made careful preparations for the Ambassador's reception. By his orders, none of the men wore mail-shirts or helmets or carried shields; each was armed with some slight weapon only — a bow, an axe, or a lance, according to his race — and clothed in clean white-linen tunic and trousers.

As the Ambassador, a Mage, came riding that afternoon along the river-road, a hare darted by, pursued by a number of dark men with hooked noses, mounted on racing horses; and as the hare doubled the leader killed it with a javelin cast. They paid no attention to the Ambassador until he greeted them, in Persian. They answered in Camp Latin, which the Mage understood; and he learned that they were Moors — not Assyrians as he had supposed — from beyond the Pillars of Hercules.

'How do you happen to be here so far away from your homes?' asked the surprised Ambassador.

'Oh,' they replied, 'Belisarius forced our kings to submit to him, and we gladly enlisted in his service, because he is the greatest general that the world has ever known and has made us rich and famous. But who are you?'

'I am the Ambassador of the Great King of Persia.'

'Oh, yes,' they replied politely. 'The same whose armies our Lord Belisarius defeated at Daras and at Sisauranum. Do you perhaps wish to sec our master? He is most hospitable. Let us escort you to his tent.'

They led the way forward, and presently they passed two parties of horsemen on a level plain tilting together with blunt lances. The men of one party had fair hair and ruddy faces; those of the other, for the most part, auburn hair and delicate skins; both were large, strong men on large, strong horses. The Ambassador asked:' What men are those?'

'Oh, those are Ostrogoths and Vandals. The Vandals come from the coast of North Africa about Carthage, which my Lord Belisarius won back for the Empire; but the Goths from Italy, another of his conquests. Would you care to observe these men closely? They are new-comers to your part of the world.'

The Moors whistled on their fingers, and a mixed party of Goths and Vandals rode up.

The Ambassador spoke to them. 'So you are captives, eh, forced to serve the Emperor of the Romans?'

A Goth replied: 'We serve no man unwillingly. It is our pleasure to serve the Lord Belisarius because he is making us perfect in the arts of war. When we return to our own lands we shall be men of credit.'

Next, a troop of slant-eyed, short-legged Huns dashed past the Ambassador with a wild shout; he learned that they were Herulians from beyond the Black Sea. They also spoke in reverent praise of Belisarius. All around him in the plain the Mage could see groups of the Household Regiment at their field-sports — tilting, shooting at a mark, spearing tent-pegs, wrestling from horseback, driving a leather ball about with crooked sticks.

Then suddenly the trumpet blew the Alert. In a moment all games ceased; every troop formed up speedily under its pennant and trotted to join its own squadron. At another trumpet call, with promptness and precision, the squadrons formed up in two long double lines, making an avenue of welcome. The Ambassador passed through, feeling rather uncomfortable, I imagine. There were 6,000 of them, and never was a finer choice of men ever brought together. They appeared far less interested in him than he in them, and eager to return to their sports. At the top of the hill was pitched Belisarius's tent of plain canvas. Belisarius sat before it on a tree-stump, without even his general's cloak, wearing white linen like his men, and looking as if he had never a care in the world. After exchanging salutations with the Ambassador he ordered the trumpeter to blow the Dismiss. The 6,000 men returned with a cheer to the plain.

The Ambassador asked: 'Arc you indeed Belisarius? I expected to find a man in gilded armour, with servitors in crimson-silk uniform ranged about him.'

Belisarius replied: 'Had your royal Master wanted us of your approach, we should have received you with greater formality, not in this undress. However, we are soldiers, not courtiers, and wear no scarlet or gold.'

The Ambassador delivered his message. He said that the Great King was at hand, his armies being like locusts in numbers, and wished to discuss peace terms.

Belisarius laughed softly. 'I have fought in many lands and observed many strange customs, but never before have I met a case like this — a king who is at pains to bring 200,000 soldiers with him in order to discuss peace terms. Tell your royal Master that our country, though hospitable, cannot act as host for so lavish a retinue as this. When he has dismissed them I shall be prepared to discuss peace terms in an amicable fashion. I will grant him an armistice of five days in which to send them back home across the Euphrates. I thank your Excellency for visiting us.'

The Ambassador returned and reported to Khosrou: 'My advice, Great King, is to return home at once. If their main body resemble their advance guard in the least respect, then you are utterly lost. For discipline, manliness, and skill in arms I have never seen their like. Moreover, it is clear that they are very numerous; they would not otherwise dare to base themselves on an uuwalled town like Car-chemish or behave with such confidence when on outpost duty. As for their general, Belisarius: in my quality of Mage I am accustomed to read the souls of men, and I sec joined in him all the military and moral virtues which our primitive ancestors esteemed. You cannot risk a battle with such a man. If you make the smallest mistake, not one of your men will ever see Babylon again.'

Khosrou believed the Ambassador because he spoke without flattery. He decided to return, though even this seemed a dangerous course to take, with Belisarius's army threatening his rear. The nearest way home was over the Euphrates and back by way of Mesopotamia, but on the farther bank of the river he had seen ten or twenty troops of Roman cavalry, who appeared, by the continual smoke-signals that they sent back across the plain towards Edessa, to be the vanguard of another army. He was afraid to attempt a crossing, for fear of being attacked in the midst of operations; though this 'other army' had no real existence — what Khosrou had seen was only 1,000 of Belisarius's troops from Carrhae, making the most of themselves. But the Mage pointed out that Belisarius had never yet broken his word and that if King Khosrou crossed the river within the five days allowed, he would be safe enough.

Khosrou crossed in a hurry, unmolested. Persian armies always carry bridging material with them (short timbers which hook together), and therefore the widest and swiftest streams present no obstacle to them. As soon as he was safe on the farther bank he sent a message to Belisarius, asking for an ambassador to discuss peace terms as he had promised.

Belisarius himself then crossed the Euphrates at Zeugma with all his forces. He sent an ambassador to tell King Khosrou that, if the Persian Army returned through Roman territory without doing any damage, Justinian would arrange with him that the terms agreed upon in the previous year were put into effect.

Khosrou consented to this, and the next day began his homeward march. But he was afraid to pass through Mesopotamia because of the imaginary army; so returned along the left bank of the Euphrates, putting his men on short rations. Belisarius began following him, always one day's journey behind, as he had done many years before with the Persian general Azareth. However, when he reached a point just opposite Barbalissus he was obliged to desist: he himself and nearly all his generals were recalled to Constantinople by a peremptory summons from the Emperor,

The pursuit could not be safely trusted to any officer that remained. King Khosrou, aware that he was no longer being followed, continued to the city of Callinicum and captured it without difficulty. As it unluckily happened, Justinian had ordered the defences to be repaired, and the masons had just torn down the half of one wall in order to build it more securely; so the garrison, unable to close the breach, had fled. Khosrou, determined to have something to show for his invasion, disregarded his promise, and carried the entire population of Callinicum into captivity, having levelled the city with the ground. Thus the White Huns gained their expected plunder.

Palestine, however, was saved. Belisarius admitted afterwards that only 40,000 men could have engaged the Persian armies at Carchemish with any confidence of success; and he had had no more than 12,000. Carchemish, he said, was the sweetest of all his victories. He had routed 200,000 Persians with his unarmed Household alone, and not lost a single man. He said too: 'The Persians were like locusts, but we frightened them from our fields with the clash of steel and the sound of trumpets.'