Honour

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

‘The walls are in such poor repair, they are inadequate to repel an assault. One push and half the stones will fall.’

Valerianus replied to Flavius with something of a shrug. ‘Then they need to be rebuilt.’

‘We would struggle to hold them if Gelimer attacks.’

‘Flavius Belisarius, there is no indication that he has the strength.’

The desire to tell him he was wrong was solid; they had driven Gelimer from the battlefield but he had not been destroyed. The relationship with his second in command was interesting, Valerianus being a patrician; it must be galling to serve under someone from the Belisarius background, the son of a centurion commanding the offshoot of generals.

His family had filled military and bureaucratic posts within the empire for centuries and, given his name, it was odd that when he spoke he chose to do so in Greek, a growing trait throughout the higher reaches of the old aristocracy. Flavius made a point of speaking to him in Latin, which tended to make the man think before replying, even if he had been reminded several times that was the language of the people they now controlled.

He never dared to condescend openly to his commanding general, nor was he overly questioning on his tactics, perhaps because he had good grounds to think that Flavius would not remain in Carthage, so there would exist a vacancy to succeed him in what would be a rich office in a province ripe for plucking. The man to whom he was talking always wondered if that was why he was studiously polite.

‘I want a ditch dug around the land walls, that to be lined with stakes. Then, and only then, can we consider working on any masonry.’

‘My infantry are looking forward to a touch of ease.’

‘Then employ the citizens of the city, Valerianus; let them show in labour how much they appreciate our victory.’

‘The Emperor?’

‘I am sending Solomon to Constantinople to carry the news.’

There was a blink then, of what? Jealousy. The messenger to Justinian would be well rewarded. Was it a task for which Valerianus could put himself forward and one he might have a right to claim?

‘Digging ditches. I doubt my family will be impressed.’

‘No one is asking you to personally employ a spade.’

The task was completed within a week by obliging the Carthaginians to provide the necessary muscle. Flavius felt more secure, albeit there was bad news as well as good. Gelimer’s brother, Tzazon, had reconquered Sardinia, killing the leader of the rebellion which would, once he was appraised of the defeat at home, bring him and his five thousand warriors back to North Africa. The only silver lining was that the four hundred Heruls under Pharas that Flavius had sent to aid the uprising had arrived too late to become involved and were coming back to rejoin him.

Next news came of a Visigoth refusal to aid Gelimer. The envoys he had sent to Hispania were slackers and arrived just as the news of the fall of Carthage reached the Visigoth ruler; he sent them home without bothering to tell them, thus they landed in Carthage and fell straight into the hands of the Romans. That at least shut off a potential route of escape for Gelimer, not that any indication came he was seeking one.

He had called all the remaining Vandals to his banner and was distributing gold to the indigenes who resided on the breadbasket Plains of Boulla to aid him. There was also a reward offered for the head of any one of the men Flavius led. This was particularly a problem inside the city, given the ease of committing murder. Delivery was harder and searches were introduced in which several villains were apprehended and hung from the newly repaired sections of the walls. Most of the victims turned out to be servants; the soldiers, armed, were too difficult a target.

‘What will Gelimer do next?’ was the question on everyone’s lips.

‘He must attack us,’ replied John the Armenian, who since the departure of Solomon had become close to Flavius and had no fear of speaking out at the daily conference. ‘He needs a quick win and that is the only way to get one.’

That opened a discussion on how to counter that; to exit the city and fight him in the open — favoured by the likes of Balas and the cavalry commanders — or to sit behind the walls and wait to be attacked. There might be much talking but the man in command was sure of his own course. He would act defensively for now as he had no need to do otherwise; Gelimer was the one with the problem.

‘Has his brother joined him yet?’ Valerianus asked.

‘We must assume he has yet to arrive,’ Procopius said, intelligence on the enemy being his responsibility. ‘In my view he will move as soon as that happens.’

That raised a few eyebrows amongst the military men; what was this clerkish fellow doing commenting on matters that were their territory?

‘The Moors?’ John asked; that was the province of the secretary.

‘They seem reluctant to give him aid. Some have joined Gelimer but not all they can muster. I have some hopes of making an alliance that will favour us, for I have made it plain that we Romans have no designs on Mauretania.’

‘Yet,’ Valerianus crowed.

‘Probably never,’ Flavius interjected, only for Procopius to tell everyone why.

‘Move on Mauretania and you will have the Visigoths to contend with. They do not want us on the south side of the Pillars of Hercules.’

‘We beat the Vandals and we can beat them too.’

‘With the Moors fully on their side.’

‘Well, it is plain,’ Flavius concluded, ‘that Gelimer is gathering strength and not only from Sardinia. He is collecting in every waif and stray he can find to beef up his forces. If he does not come to us, which like John I think he must, then we must go to him and before our army gets too soft from luxuriating in Carthage.’

It was agreed that as matters stood the Belisarius view should prevail: stay behind the ditch and the walls and wait. As the meeting broke up Balas hung back and it was plain he wanted a private talk. Procopius was permitted to stay as the Hun leader raised the discomfort being felt by his men.

‘I hope, Flavius Belisarius, you see them as having acquitted themselves well.’

‘Without doubt, a couple of transgressors notwithstanding.’

Balas shrugged. ‘They got what they deserved but the rest of my soldiers are wondering when they can go home?’

‘We are in the middle of a campaign,’ Procopius protested.

‘And they will see it through. But there’s not one of them gives this Gelimer a chance and they are hoping you will say to them that as soon as he is defeated proper they will be boarded onto ships for Constantinople and the borderlands. They did not make a mark to serve abroad.’

There was no need to ask why this request was forthcoming; the Huns served as mercenaries close to their own homelands. They liked to do their service in a spot where they could easily visit family, often wives and children, or friends who lived just beyond the imperial border markers. If they campaigned away from that it was of short duration.

Flavius had always had an ambivalent attitude to Huns — it was men of that race who had massacred the cohort led by his father and if they had been bribed to do so that did not diminish the relish with which their murderous raid was carried out. Perhaps there were men now serving Justinian who had taken part in that incursion, maybe even in his army.

Not that he would enquire; the Huns who enrolled as mercenaries were wonderful fighters with a reputation that was respected throughout the known world. But their tribal comrades who did not serve the armies of Constantinople were more numerous and seen as homicidal, especially by imperial citizens. If any of that ilk were present it was best not to know.

‘We must defeat Gelimer before anyone goes anywhere.’

‘I have acknowledged that.’

‘And if it takes time?’

‘Then they will stay true.’

‘True?’ demanded Procopius, hinting at treason.

‘An inappropriate word, Balas,’ Flavius said in an emollient tone. ‘Please tell your men that no one will be kept here beyond the need, but I have also to add I have no idea when that might be.’

‘Strange to make the request now,’ Procopius opined when the Hun leader had left.

‘It’s a cautioning. Balas is letting us know well in advance of any difficulties that there might be one.’

Any concerns would have been eased if they could have seen into the mind of Gelimer. He too would have agreed with John the Armenian, for he knew that a protracted war was unsustainable and would only have been so with the aid of the indigenous population. But they were now firmly, thanks to the mildness of the Belisarian policies, firmly in his camp.

Thus he had a limited number of men and after they were gone there would be no more. To keep them in the field without fighting was not the way of their tribe, and even if he had wanted to play a waiting game their hot blood would not have permitted it. He needed to beat the Romans and quickly; that done, the spineless indigenes would soon bow at the knee again.

Flavius Belisarius was in Carthage, which is where Gelimer knew he must proceed and quickly. The walls were being repaired; it was getting stronger not weaker so it was time to march.

The first act was to damage the city aqueduct and deprive it of much of its fresh water. Yet Gelimer did not want a siege, he wanted the Romans to emerge from within and fight, so there was no attempt to cut off the city from supply, impossible anyway given the amount of shipping available and an open port. He moved his main camp back to a place called Tricamarum though he had many a patrol pass jeering before the walls.

In addition he had his agents seeking to weaken Belisarius; there was some hope that the Carthaginians, who had done better out of Vandal rule than their country cousins, might defect to his banner. Then there was religion; the Huns and Heruls were Arians and so easy to approach through the Vandal divines who still said Masses within the city.

The latter, being Germans, were quick to rebuff such an overture but it fell on more fertile ground with the Huns; the warning given by Balas had not been hot air, there was a genuine grievance and it affected the entire contingent. If Belisarius was beaten they could leave; if he won that was not certain.

One of the problems was that Flavius gave them time; he was not to be tempted to battle until the walls of the city were fully repaired. Then and only then, when he had an absolutely secure base to retire to in the face of possible defeat would he oblige Gelimer. Nor was he unconscious of the hopes of the Vandal leader. One citizen of Carthage was caught seeking to join the Vandals; Flavius had him impaled on the battlements and left to rot as a warning to others.

With the Huns he sought to seduce them with his attention, to perhaps tie them to him personally. There were gifts and banquets over the next two months which calmed the chance of any immediate defection. Yet asked if he had secured their allegiance he was only able to reply, while struggling to keep his personal distaste for the breed out of his voice, ‘What I have secured is their indifference. They will be with us if we are winning, but will side with Gelimer if not. They care only for their own needs.’

Patience was aided by domestic harmony; that existed as long as Procopius was not around. Antonina had taken to being a suzerain with delight. The Belisarian apartments, lately Gelimer’s, were full most nights of her husband’s officers as well as the leading citizens of Carthage, who saw it as politic to shower her with gifts — the soldiers settled for flattery — both of which she took with both hands.

The only fly in this happy scene was Procopius, hinting that such gatherings were not as innocent as his employer supposed. Flavius was not always present — he had duties to attend to which could not be delegated. The secretary was careful, of course, never once accusing Antonina of anything untoward. But there was enough in his concerns to have Flavius wondering; she had, after all, led a very chequered life before their nuptials and he knew her to be a lusty lover with an appetite he was not always able to satisfy.

That was a consideration that required to be left for another time; three months had gone by now and with a stout city fortress fully repaired Flavius could contemplate giving battle. His first act was to send out John the Armenian with most of the bucellarii, his orders to approach the fortified camp of Gelimer, to bait the enemy with archery and probing attacks if the opportunity arose but on no account to initiate a full-scale battle.

The next morning Flavius left Carthage at the head of the infantry and the remaining cavalry, to cover the six leagues to where Gelimer had set up camp. But the Vandals had moved out and were now on the far side of a stream some distance from their camp. The Vandal leader used that watercourse and the dip in the ground that it created to draw up his own forces but he waited till midday before fully deploying; clearly someone had advised him of the same tactics once employed by the Sassanids: fight the Romans when they are hungry.

Yet he was preparing to attack and that caught the men John led by surprise, meaning they had to rapidly deploy to face Gelimer before their entire force was on the field. Flavius was still marching with the infantry, following well behind him, only in sight of John’s predicament when matters had come to a critical stage. Knowing the Armenian would be forced to engage before he could be fully supported — the infantry were too far off and coming on too slowly — he sent forward the army standard and his own comitatus along with a message to say he had every confidence in his ability.

On the left wing John deployed the foederati, men armed for hand-to-hand combat with a section of archers, fighters who would work ballistae aided by spear-carrying cavalry. On the right were the bulk of the cavalry and Flavius ensured the Huns and their horses, who were with him, were held well to the rear to keep them out of the battle. It was noticeable that on the other side the Moors were likewise in a disengaged position, behind but not close to the centre of the Vandal lines.

John sought to tempt the Vandals by peppering them with arrows and missiles, to which they responded with not a single spear, a fact the Romans found peculiar. Tzazon would not be drawn; if he attacked to drive these skirmishers off he did not let his men cross the stream. He knew that to be the enemy aim, just as he knew that even if as an obstacle it was small it was enough to disorder his ranks.

The same aim was the tactic of John’s next sally, leading forward the bucellarii. Again Tzazon mounted an attack to throw them back, again his men halted at the water’s edge. Watching from an elevated position Flavius had observed that on each occasion the Vandal wings had not moved to support Tzazon and his Sardinian veterans. Fearing that John, into close proximity, might have failed to observe this he sent a messenger to advise him. But there were no accompanying orders; he had handed over tactical command, to interfere would be wrong.

John needed no instruction, anyway; he had noted that on both occasions there had been no sign of a mounted response to his pinprick attacks. If the Vandals would not move then he must. With that knowledge added to the message from Flavius he brought forward the whole comitatus, the very best troops he commanded, and attacked across the stream himself.

His general was right; the Vandal wings remained static, taking no part in what had become a fight of the centre sections of both armies. Once more it was noticed there were no Vandal spears employed, which meant the Romans got close up to the enemy and began to press them back. As is often the case it was the fall of a leader that decided matters. Tzazon was isolated and cut down, his collapse sending a deep wail of despair through the men he had led both here and in Sardinia.

When they broke so did the Vandal wings and soon it turned into a rout, one in which the Huns spurred forward to take part, cutting down their coreligionists with abandon in a retreat that took the Vandals back inside their fortified camp, one that was too strong to be assaulted by cavalry.

Flavius was harrying his infantry to get to the same spot, and once there he formed them up for an immediate assault, now once more in possession of his standard. It proved a waste; Gelimer knew he was beaten and with a few close followers, relatives and the like, he abandoned his men and fled. It was only moments later that the whole Vandal army did likewise — they would not stand where their usurper king would not — leaving their enemies to plunder their camp. This time it included a great quantity of treasure, including many of the priceless objects looted from Gaul and Hispania, fortunately secured by the more disciplined units.

There was no holding back the men Flavius led. They had found an abundance of wine too, as well as women; and were fired up for rapine, slaughter and plunder. Even if their general had wanted to pursue Gelimer it would have proved impossible. It did not occur to these rampaging fools that the Vandals might re-form and attack. If they had it would have been fatal.

It was daybreak before he could impose some order, halfway through the morning before he got a chance to harangue and curse his own troops for their behaviour, this after he had got John the Armenian away with two hundred cavalry to seek to kill or capture Gelimer. Women and children were rescued from being privately sold into slavery. Vandals who had taken sanctuary in their Arian churches were relieved of their weapons and sent to Carthage.

That done, Flavius formed up his army to engage in his personal pursuit only to come across tragedy. After several days and nights of a hard chase John had got close enough to the rump of Gelimer’s forces to effect a capture or kill him as commanded. One of his bowman, in firing an arrow, let one hand slip as he loosed and the bolt swerved from true aim and hit John in the neck. When Flavius caught up with them it was to find them in mourning for their dead and much revered commander, none more so than the guilty bowman.

Yet on questioning them all it had to be concluded to be an accident, a fluke of battle but not a fitting end for such a fine warrior. The culprit was pardoned and John was buried at the very spot, with Flavius pledging funds to ensure it would be marked by a stone obelisk listing his achievements and offices, all in Latin as befitted a man deserving to be called a true Roman.

Gelimer was still free as well as alive and the pursuit had to continue.