Honour

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Flavius was explaining to his paramour Justinian’s ambitions, emphasising it would not be a simple task. ‘With the east paid for and quiet he feels the time might be right.’

‘And it involves you?’

‘He wants me to command the armies. What military man, Antonina, would not want to undertake such a possible conquest?’

That she was interested at all surprised Flavius but also pleased him; he would have suggested it was hardly a subject to engage women if it had not been for Theodora, who seemed equally keen. They were sitting on a grassy bank overlooking the Propontis, their horses grazing at the pasture, reins trailing the ground. The sun was warm, the sea was blue and all seemed right with the world. It was good to get away from the palace and the constant need to be ready to jump to the needs of the imperial couple. It was just good to be alone in each other’s company.

‘So I plan how to fight and hopefully to win but that would, I am sure, bore you.’

‘No, Flavius, I wish to hear what you are doing.’

He touched the back of her hand. ‘I do too.’

She let out a peal of laughter. ‘You mean you do now know what you’re doing?’

‘I didn’t mean that, I meant you.’

‘I know, my dear, just teasing. Now, enlighten a person who is ignorant.’

‘The politics are the province of the Emperor and he is sure they are favourable.’

‘The military problems fall to me.’

When examined, certain matters appeared obvious. Italy was the bigger fish needing to be caught but there was a discontented and oppressed population in North Africa, which might prove an easier place to begin, not a statement allowed to pass without explanation.

‘In the past, the Vandal rulers made no attempt to make peace with those they had conquered. They forbade intermarriage and imposed their Arian religion on a population who looked to the Bishop of Rome for spiritual guidance. They were also inclined to kill people who sought no more than to worship in a different rite.’

‘So there’s many a martyr to avenge.’

‘Hilderic changed that policy and treated, I’m told, with Justinian for an alliance.’ Anticipating a question — her face told him — he answered before she could ask. ‘He was overthrown three years ago by his brother, Gelimer, who has seized the throne and is persecuting the Catholics and Trinitarians again.’

‘What names,’ Antonina opined, not with approval.

‘They sound as they are, barbarians. Justinian insists the time is propitious for an attempt at reconquest. This Gelimer faces not only a hostile population but those who revere the memory of his brother. Added to that, he has Moors to the west of his possessions who might ally with us, and insurrections in Sardinia and Byzacium.’

That had to be explained; Antonina had never heard of that particular province; neither had Flavius until he had begun to study the problem but he kept that to himself, an air of knowledge suited him.

‘The difficulty would be to get an army transported to Africa that is large enough to retake the land and free the majority of the people.’

‘Is it worth it?’

‘They are our coreligionists, and besides, it’s an old and valuable province that once helped to feed Rome.’

‘You sound hesitant, Flavius?’

‘It’s Justinian. He thinks we should seek to take Italy and he’s a hard man to dissuade. Attack there and Gelimer will make an alliance with the Ostrogoths, because he knows if we succeed in Italy he will be next. We cannot fight them combined and it is going to be far from easy to fight them piecemeal.’

It was difficult sometimes to contain Justinian; his desires ran ahead of the ability to meet his expectations. The east was kept quiet with gold; the west was now less peaceable thanks to the death, after a very long reign, of Theodoric, the man who had ruled Italy for thirty-three trouble-free years. But with him gone, as far as Justinian was concerned, Italy was an equally possible target for reconquest.

But it could only be invaded by sea; to seek a land route could not be kept secret from the enemy and the room to manoeuvre in the land between the Alps and the Adriatic was constrained. Not that the gathering of forces for a seaborne attack would go unnoticed, but the landing place on an extended shore calculated at having over six hundred beaches made the point of invasion too hard to fix.

‘Having said that, Sicily would be a primary target. All history tells me it would be easier to invade the mainland from there.’

‘All history? Would it trouble you if I said I have no idea what you are talking about?’

‘No. Would it trouble you if I explained?’

Antonina rolled on to her side and looked directly at him. ‘I insist you do. Being in ignorance does not cheer me.’

‘Surely you must know something of this?’

‘Why would I?’

‘It’s a long story.’

A hand caressed his bearded jaw to tickle the hairs. ‘And we are in no rush.’

‘Theodora will wonder where you are.’

‘No, Flavius, she will know I am with you.’

He was about to mention her suggestion that they marry but he hesitated too long, so to cover a degree of confusion he began to talk of the events of the last fifty years and indeed beyond, all the way back to the division of the empire in the year 364, with an enthusiasm that had to be constantly checked against her reaction. He was only too aware that what was of interest to him was not always seen in the same light by others. What he saw in Antonina’s eyes was firm interest.

If Flavius had not been at the centre of things in Constantinople he had been raised by a parent who took a keen interest in both the history and present state of the Roman Empire. Decimus Belisarius had seen himself as the heir to a thousand years of glorious expansion, the successor to legions of fighting men who had spread civilisation around the Middle Sea, defeating everyone who stood against the civilising influence.

All this had been passed on to his sons; they were Romans and the history of the empire was there to be studied and learnt from, and not for the first time Flavius was in conversation with a person who did not know the past of the polity in which they lived.

The empire had been split by Valentinian because it was too vast to administer; he gave half to his brother Valens and as long as they lived there was harmony. But, supposed to provide better security, it had not worked as it had been hoped, not least because of rivalries between those who succeeded them.

The Eastern Empire, with a huge land border, had struggled many times to repel serious barbarian invasions. They had as often inducted their enemies into the imperial fold as defeated them, for Constantinople had as its core great revenues with which to bribe the invading tribes to either depart or settle, hence the composition of the army.

‘The empire in the west has fared less well since the time of Julius Nepos.’

‘Him I have heard of, but only the name.’

‘He was raised to the purple by the Leo in 474 in place of a man the Emperor thought a usurper. Sadly, in less than two years Nepos was deposed by Orestes, his own magister militum.’

‘Now that is a nice name, Orestes.’

Flavius smiled indulgently and continued. ‘Nepos retired to Dalmatia, where he had previously acted as dux. Legally he still held the imperial title, but it was one only in name. Orestes was in all respects like the King of Italy. Then Orestes tried to raise his own son to the purple, treating after Leo’s death with the Emperor Zeno, but that failed. He in turn was killed by the leader of his foederati, a German mercenary called Odoacer and now he became the ruler of Italy.’

‘Not Nepos?’

‘He was murdered by the officers of his own comitatus.’

‘There are Greek plays that tell stories such as this.’

‘There’s been no Western Emperor since, but stability came with the rise of Theodoric.’

‘The famous Theodoric. I have heard they are calling him “the Great”.’

‘He may deserve it. He governed Italy with our consent and governed well.’

Theodoric had originally been a thorn in the flesh of Zeno — he had ravaged imperial territory and even threatened Constantinople before being diverted to Italy to fight Odoacer.

‘That war lasted three years, but finally he defeated Odoacer and captured Ravenna. Then Theodoric strangled him, killed him with his own hands at a banquet designed to cement a peace.’

That got Flavius a finger in the chest. ‘There are some people it is better not to dine with.’

‘Theodoric settled his followers in Italy, showing great care in the way he dealt with Zeno, then Anastasius and finally Justin. He never sought the title of emperor, content to be magister militum and to be raised to the rank of patrician.’

‘That makes him sound modest. I may not know as much as you do but Theodoric didn’t strike me as that.’

‘What’s in a title? He acted as he wished and we in the east valued harmony more than anything else. Theodoric gave us that and neither did he seek expansion. In all his dealing with Constantinople he was careful to always show respect. Better still, he made no attempt to convert the Italian citizenry to Arianism, allowing them to worship in their own faith. He’s been a bulwark against other threats, marrying three of his daughters, one to the King of Franks, another to the ruler of Burgundy and the third to a previous Vandal king of North Africa.’

‘No sons?’

‘No.’

‘And now he’s dead,’ Antonina whispered, with a yawn.

‘He is, and there was a great deal of conflict in Italy over his inheritance. Ripe, Justinian thinks, for us to intervene.’

She sat up and looked around; outside the gates of the city and well away from any dwelling they were not under any scrutiny. So when Antonina rolled towards him and began to kiss he could not find it within him to resist what followed. It was on the slow ride back to Constantinople that he asked her to marry him.

Theodora was delighted for a woman she saw as one of her closest friends; immediately on being told the news she announced that Justinian would give Antonina away and that she and he would be there to witness. The ceremony would be conducted by the Patriarch and the wedding feast would rival that of any Persian despot. Flavius was not consulted; he was too heavily involved in the expedition he had proposed and Justinian had agreed to.

Antonina was given a larger and grander set of apartments prior to the nuptials and it was to there the married couple would retire. The children of her previous marriage, Photius and Phoebe, acted as cup-bearers and the men who made up the imperial court, several hundred in number, as well as their wives, thought it politic to attend. Antonina insisted it was not out of regard for either her or her intended but a mark of their fear of Theodora.

All the pomp that the imperial establishment could muster was given to them gratis; a servant behind every chair, the best food the imperial kitchens could provide with wines from vineyards planted long before Constantine made this city his capital and it was a glittering occasion marred only by two things.

The clear doubt expressed by Flavius’s mother, fetched all the way from Illyricum, that this was a suitable match, and the behaviour of the mother of the bride, a raddled-looking woman who took to the contents of the imperial wine cellars with too much gusto and made an exhibition of herself by being both sick and unable to keep her feet, leading to her being carried from the feast.

It was at the conclusion that Justinian, having given his blessing to the newly-weds, announced that his trusted general Flavius Belisarius was about to be given sole command of an expedition to reconquer from the Vandals the provinces of Africa and the great city of Carthage. That raised a few eyebrows; Flavius had only recently been cleared from blame after an enquiry into his conduct as magister per Orientem, in which out of four battles he had lost three, though the lustre of Dara was undiminished.

And sole command was rare, but when Justinian had first proposed the task Flavius had insisted that he would not accept unless that condition was met. The army he led would be on its own once it landed, with nowhere to retreat to, barring its own ships. In such a situation there would be no time for conferences to decide what to do. Quick action would be required and that meant a single controlling hand.

Given that everyone had eaten and drunk well, the news — to many it was far from that — was greeted with loud cheers from the majority of guests, which allowed Justinian to bask in the glory of something he would only watch from a distance.

‘You can stay in Constantinople, Mother, we have room in these apartments for a dozen people.’

‘No, Flavius, the city does not suit me. I prefer the countryside where I now live and besides, you are not going to be here, are you?’

‘It is to where I will return.’

His mother was looking old and frail now and he wanted to say to her that if she went back to Illyricum this might be the last time they would spend together. Yet that seemed too final. He would have been hurt to hear her real reasons; she did not like his new wife and if the doubts she had expressed had been carefully couched they were a great deal deeper and more profound than she had ever let be known to her son.

‘If God permits, you will find the time to come to me. Now let us pray together for the memory of your father and brothers as well your success in battle and your safe return.’

There had been a great deal of diplomatic activity while the expedition had been in the planning stage, an area where Justinian was in his element; playing one person off against another, holding all the cards while his correspondent could see only one, was meat and drink for he was still the master intriguer. This was an area in which Flavius did not interfere but he knew that nothing would have been attempted if his emperor was not sure that all possible trouble would fall upon Gelimer.

The Vandal usurper had sought an alliance with Constantinople, one he wished to use against his own rebels. Those same insurgents were treating with Justinian for support against Gelimer and the Emperor was promising much and delivering very little in return. Finally Gelimer, sensing he was being pulled as would be a puppet, broke off his correspondence; those rebelling against him did not and the time had come to proceed.

Since the announcement, Flavius had been inundated with requests by high-ranking soldiers and courtiers on behalf of relatives with requests to take them as his inferior commanders. These same people had tried Justinian first, only to find that such a decision did not rest with him. The fact was there had come about an occasion of disagreement that came as close to an argument any subject can have with a sovereign.

‘I do not want people who will even think to disobey me.’

‘And I am being told that I cannot reward loyal service from one of my council by giving an opportunity to his son.’

In reality, what Flavius was trying to avoid was back-stabbing correspondence being sent back to the capital, this from his inferior commanders seeking to undermine him in the search of advancement for their own careers, a commonplace in the imperial army. Every letter from such creatures was far from a report on matters as they happened and nor were they the truth: they were political statements and too often a tissue of inventions. Yet such missives could do much damage and Flavius wanted none of it, and eventually Justinian gave way.

Apart from inferior officers and the men he had already led into battle, Flavius required a secretary and that led to an interview with Procopius. Ever since Dara the man had been a constant in the Belisarius life, always seeming to be close by, full of praise for a man he saw as a brilliant general, yet with wit enough to puncture anything that smacked of vanity.

In enquiring about him Flavius had found that he was a native of Caesarea and had studied law, coming to Constantinople with a glittering reputation. He was a fine speaker and had proved at Dara an able assistant to Hermogenes, who had trusted Procopius enough to give him many of the duties that fell to the older man, tasks in which peculation would have been easy. Hermogenes was of the opinion Procopius had not mislaid as much as a solidus.

Also, the suspicion that he had been in correspondence with Justinian seemed to have been mistaken. That he wrote to someone Flavius was sure, but having mentioned Procopius to the Emperor the response, that he had no idea of whom his friend was talking about, seemed genuine, Theodora likewise, and hints to certain court officials convinced him that the aide to Hermogenes was not a familiar figure either in the palace or the offices of state. Fiscal honesty was important and as to wealth, success in North Africa would take care of that; it was the other matter that required clarification.

‘Tell me, Procopius, who did you write to from Dara? At first I thought it might be the Emperor but that I now know is not the case. But you did correspond with someone of standing.’

‘What point would there be in denying it, General? I was charged to give my views to a certain person, a powerful person, and I did so. My loyalty to that commission forbids me from naming him but I can say if you read my letters you might be brought to the blush.’

‘I need a secretary as well as an assessor, and an efficient one. You proved yourself that at Dara. But I also need utter loyalty. I know you to be the former but I wonder at the latter.’

‘What words could I use that would overcome any doubts. I will say that I am happy to serve you, and flattered as well. If I take the offer I will bind myself to you and your future to the exclusion of all else.’

Flavius was looking him right in the eye and Procopius did not blink or seek to avoid the contact. ‘Let me think on it, I will let you know in the morning.’

‘Not now?’

That got a slight smile. ‘Do you not know me yet, Procopius? I do not make instant decisions.’

It was Antonina that really fixed matters, when the subject was raised in post-coital murmurs. ‘He worships you, can you not see that, Flavius?’

‘Worships?’

‘You do not see the way he gazes upon you when you are not looking, but I do. If he is a lover of men I would say he was enamoured of you.’

‘He’s not, is he?’

That got her up on an elbow and looking down at him with shaking head. ‘Only you would be in ignorance of his desires.’

‘I have no ignorance of yours and they please me.’ That got him a poke in the ribs. ‘Is Procopius …?’ Typical of the upright Roman he could not bring himself to say the words, only to wave a wrist.

‘I would say he has a Roman name and Greek leanings. Do you not find that you come across him frequently?’

Thinking on it, Flavius could see that Antonina might be right; there was a prissy quality to Procopius, an excessive tidiness and a manner that placed great store in things being right. Recalling him at Dara there had been those endless questions, which might in the light of Antonina’s opinions appear more like attention seeking than genuine enquiry. And it was true; Procopius had seemed to be around too many times for it to be coincidence.

‘Perhaps I should fear to be alone with him.’

‘Then you will not mind that Theodora has insisted I accompany you to Africa.’

‘What!’

‘Does such a prospect alarm you?’

‘You cannot come on campaign, Antonina.’

‘Because it’s dangerous?’

‘That and the distraction of worrying about your safety.’

‘Safety? I look forward to you telling Theodora, which will be full of risk. You might have bested Justinian in the article of who you will take as officers, but she is a tougher nut than he.’

‘But do you want to accompany me?’

‘I certainly don’t want to be left here when you are gone.’

A hand cupped her breast, ‘Then Theodora can have her wish.’

‘And Procopius?’

‘Him too. What he is matters as nothing against what he can do.’