Legionary

Chapter 41

Valens strolled beside the shuffling bishop, stooping to cup a flower from the honeysuckle bed, marvelling at their vivid colour and sweet scent while so much else in the palace garden struggled into bloom. The climate in Constantinople was turning very gradually away from the freshness of spring towards the all day long sweltering heat of the midsummer months. Now the sun glowed high in the sky, throwing down a pleasant heat, especially in the enclosed grounds. He stood straight again, letting the mellow trickle of the fountain and the lilting birdsong soothe his heart. The last few days had been so stressful, and he was only half way to completion of his plan.

His invite to the bishop had been open and friendly, and the Evagrius had accepted readily. They had shared a midday meal of eggs poached in red wine, boiled goat with yoghurt and then a thick apple patina with lashings of garum sauce. As usual, the palace slaves had kept their goblets topped up, but both men had been quick to refuse wine to drink — even watered down. They had talked all through the meal, but without substance or consequence; city development, ecclesiastical fund raising and the cleansing of the city docks. As they had strolled out into the sunlight to begin their tour of the gardens Valens had continued to play along, discussing the redevelopment of the area around the Hippodrome — the centrepiece of the new Rome, he had branded it. But now the preamble was over; it was time to broach the heart of the matter.

‘The empire has a crisis on her hands,’ he said calmly.

‘A crisis? Doesn’t she always?’ Evagrius chuckled. ‘Indeed the very nature of the empire seems to be a flux of crises.’

‘You know what they used to do in Rome, Bishop, when the city was in danger?’

Evagrius’ eyes narrowed, but he kept his benign veil in place.

Valens knew the bishop was well aware of the law of the dictator. How he would react to being told was the test. ‘When Hannibal had Italy in his clutches. When the Samnites threatened the old city. When Caesar himself faced down danger from within in the shape of Pompey.’ Valens halted his stroll and turned to face the bishop. ‘In those dark times, for the good of Rome itself, one man directed her fate. All others stood to one side…or were forced there…for the benefit of everyone. A dictator they called it then. Now an emperor is required in the purest sense of the word. An emperor like the great men of the past; Trajan, Aurelius, Constantine.’

Evagrius nodded.

‘Our empire is vast now, and one man cannot rule its expanse. So let our brothers in the West look after their affairs — God knows they don’t have their troubles to seek. But the East,’ he placed a hand on the bishop’s shoulder, ‘she needs direction or she will suffer. Like a lily in bloom at dusk and dead by dark, I fear for her future if I do not act.’

‘You are referring to the recently defunct Senate of Constantinople, I presume?’ Evagrius mused. Valens noticed the faintest tremble on the bishop’s lips — maybe the beginnings of a sneer?

‘Partially,’ Valens corrected. ‘For the time being, the senate are obsolete. A temporary measure, but until the empire is strong again, they will remain sidelined.’

Bishop Evagrius shook his head, cutting in before Valens could continue. ‘Tread carefully, Emperor. The days of undiluted power enjoyed by men like Constantine are over. Your reputation is built upon meticulously nurtured relationships with bodies such as the senate. To alienate such entities could be a rash manoeuvre not easily righted.’

Valens kept his expression blank. The bishop could see what was coming at him and defence was his only card.

‘It is not the senate that I wish to talk with you about today, bishop. Today the Holy See itself must also be removed from the sphere of political influence.’ Valens watched as the bishop’s jaw crunched between his pursed lips.

‘I am dismayed, Emperor,’ Evagrius uttered through his teeth. ‘The church of Christ is your gift to the people of the empire. Take it away and you not only besmirch what it stands for but you pull the plug on the hard work of the last hundred years. Jupiter and the pagan deities are dying, Emperor, and it is the Arian Gospel, the word you put so much into supporting, which takes their place — your faith is winning!’ Evagrius shook his head. ‘To cripple it now could be to kill it altogether. What then? The West would sneer at us — tell us they were right all along, tell our people they are in the wrong half of the empire.’

Valens stifled a wry grin. Evagrius and his cronies had cursed the day Valens had announced Arianism over all other strands of belief, supporting the move only to stay in power. ‘Bishop, as with the senate, your power will not be removed permanently. And it is only political power you will be denied; the religion does not need this to flourish.’ Valens stood straighter as he sensed the thickening of the air between them. ‘These are the rights of an emperor. I trust I have your full support, bishop?’

Finally, Evagrius spoke. ‘Very well, Emperor. If this is your wish, then it is God’s will.’ He bowed his head momentarily. ‘The Holy See will remain in place only to serve God and spread his word to our people. Call it politics if you will, but I would urge you to consider staying receptive to the carefully reasoned view of some of our most esteemed senators and, if I may be so bold, myself, as the bishop of God’s city while you steer the empire back to greatness.’

‘Advice is welcome, bishop. Interference is not.’

‘Advice it is then,’ Evagrius nodded.

Valens watched as the bishop smiled and then shuffled to the gates and onto the carriage that awaited him. His eyes narrowed. Another snake in the grass.

Evagrius grimaced at the beggars on the marketside gazing up at him as his carriage rumbled hastily back to his palace. ‘Have your power, then, Emperor,’ he muttered. ‘It will last only until my new allies pour through the empire to lift me onto your throne.’