Triumph (2 page)

‘It is large enough for my immediate needs.’

‘Even weakened by the garrisons you have been required to leave behind?’

‘Thanks to the way you Goths have treated with the locals, that does not require great numbers. The Sicilians are happy to be back under the rule of a proper Roman Emperor. Is it not just as important that you examine the forces you lead? Few Goths, a dearth of cavalry—’

That got a wave at the coast and the narrow strip of land between the sea and the mountains. ‘Hardly necessary in such terrain.’

Flavius masked any response; that was nonsense and both men knew it yet it did induce a thought. Had Ebrimuth, knowing what was coming and sure that the men he termed Byzantines would land north of Rhegium, constructed a defensive barrier to stop any advance on the city? The narrow littoral certainly leant itself to that as a tactic and it would impose a check on his aims. It was a fleeting reflection and one he dismissed; there was too much traffic between Sicily and Italy for such a set of works to be kept a secret.

‘You may find that assumption to be fatal.’

‘What is your aim,
magister
?’

‘First to secure Rhegium, then the conquest of Italy and the reunification on behalf of Justinian of the twin parts of the empire. To do that I must march north and take Ravenna.’

The question had clearly been posed with no great expectation of an answer; that Ebrimuth got one so defined surprised him, so much so that he could not react, allowing Flavius to continue.

‘Of course, I have no desire to be held up so far south in a fight I
cannot lose. So I will offer you terms,
Kindin
. You and your personal followers can abandon Rhegium by treaty, taking with you your weapons, possessions and your families and we will not hinder your departure. Should you stay and seek to defend a city without one rampart to its name I cannot answer for what the outcome may be.’

‘Even a man so renowned for his compassion?’

‘I grant you I do not like to see a city sacked and blood uselessly sacrificed but there are times when it becomes impossible to control men forced to fight and risk death for that which is indefensible. Rhegium is a rich prize and you cannot say what the temptation to plunder will do to discipline.’

‘You are asking me to ride back to Ravenna and tell my King that I did not even try to defend my city?’

‘At least you will ride back.’

‘And what do you think would be his response?’

‘Theodahad knows Rhegium is impossible to defend. I have a superior army in terms of quality and numbers. With another army on the coast of Illyricum to threaten him he will not be hurrying to your aid, even to save his own daughter from falling into our hands.’

‘An assumption.’

‘A reasonable one. It is also reasonable to assume that if he allowed the marriage, you might not be his favourite courtier. Fathers can be harsh on the spouses chosen by their daughters.’

That checked the Goth and he lacked the skill to hide it; he had indeed married for love, in the face of parental disapproval from Theodahad, which only served to drive home that when it came to events surrounding the court of the Ostrogoth Kingdom of Italy there were, as far as Constantinople was concerned, few secrets.

Flavius Belisarius did not have to allude directly to the fact that Ebrimuth might have his head removed for his failure to defend
Rhegium even if he survived any attempt to hold the port city in the first place. Certainly Theodahad’s daughter would weep in either event but her father would have the sons of their union and, childless himself, that would present him with the basis of a dynasty, something dear to the heart of any ruler.

‘A possible solution presents itself,
Kindin
.’ That got narrowed eyes and a suspicious look, which to Flavius was unconvincing. ‘It is in the nature of our Emperor to be compassionate to those of his enemies caught on the horns of a dilemma such as yours.’

‘Which is?’

‘To offer them sanctuary.’

Ebrimuth looked down then at his lap, which left Flavius to contemplate the top of his blond-haired head. He waited long enough to allow what he had just said to sink in before continuing.

‘If you think Rome was once magnificent you have yet to see Constantinople. The city has a wealth almost too hard to encompass, even for me. I also serve a man who hates war—’

‘Hard to believe given the number he has engaged in.’

‘Many times we have been obliged to defend ourselves and we have a right to seek to recover territory long held by our predecessors, but I doubt you have any notion of the offers made to Theodahad over many years to bring such a return about.’

Ebrimuth’s father-in-law was slippery as an eel and it was no secret he had flirted with Justinian when Athalaric had been the heir to the Theodoric throne. More recently he had agreed to sell his kingdom to Justinian in return for title to the old imperial estates of Italy, a source of massive and steady wealth, reneging at the last moment, it was thought for fear of his nobles. It was the breaking of that undertaking which had provided the justification for the present invasion.

‘What was offered to him?’ Ebrimuth asked, seeking to feign a
degree of indifference, as if to imply the question was posed out of mere curiosity.

‘Patrician rank as long as he renounced his Arianism. Land and a position in the administration of the empire, a place in the imperial armies for those of his followers who came with him.’

Flavius waited for Ebrimuth to be drawn out; he waited in vain. ‘I would not be in any way astonished if Justinian offered the same to any high-ranking Goth nobleman wishing to eschew war in favour of peace.’

‘Is Rhegium worth it?’

‘It is to me and I am favoured by the fact that Justinian is open to my advice.’

The question that followed was posed in a near whisper. ‘And you would be willing to advance such a proposal to him?’

‘It would not please me, Ebrimuth, even on such a short acquaintance, to see your head stuck on a pike, wherever that might reside.’

‘I must consult my closest followers.’

Flavius was tempted to say that most of them must have come out in that boat with him. The person he needed to talk to was his wife, which induced a sad feeling. He too needed to talk to his wife, but not on a subject even remotely facing this Goth. It was as well Ebrimuth stayed silent and contemplative; if he had not he might have sensed the sudden turmoil such thoughts created in the mind of the man with whom he was negotiating.

Finally he spoke, standing as he did so. ‘You will have your reply with the dawn,
magister
.’

Ebrimuth spun round to reboard his vessel with the same agility as he had shown when coming aboard. The lines were cast off and the single sail raised on the smaller boat as it swung round to head back to
Rhegium on the wind. Photius was quick to approach his stepfather, to whom he was more loyal than to his transgressive mother. He had heard the last part of the exchange and wanted to know what the outcome would be.

‘We must lose men to another garrison, Photius.’

‘You are sure he will accept?’

‘Of course he will, boy,’ Flavius replied, with a gentle slap on the back. ‘It’s what he came for.’

‘Procopius, you knew!’

The secretary, tall and gangling, just smiled again, which on such an aesthetic countenance smacked of condescension. ‘I was tempted to wager with you, Photius, but taking ripe fruit from a child is too easy.’

‘I am not a child!’

‘No,’ Flavius said with some force, aiming a sharp glance at a too sarcastic Procopius. ‘You are a man and one I am proud of. Now let us get back to the landing beach and prepare to march north.’

The sailing master had been awaiting the order and with his rowers back on their oars, no longer in armour but dressed in nothing but loin cloths, he called out the required commands that got his galley moving. Flavius walked to the prow to take advantage of the cooling breeze as well as to think.

‘Do you think Justinian will agree?’ Photius asked Procopius.

‘I do. The
magister
would be unlikely to make such an offer unless it had been previously discussed.’ As the youngster nodded, Procopius added in a sour tone, ‘Not that the Emperor is incapable of denying such an arrangement if it suits his purpose on the day.’

T
here was nothing to trouble the army on the march north, this being a part of the world unused to war. The various towns which Flavius approached, lacking walls and faced with overwhelming force, quickly surrendered. In the present conqueror they found a man who had long ago set his stamp on what his troops were allowed to do in recently taken territory – no despoliation, anything acquired paid for, women treated with respect – and he had been known to hang transgressors in the past if his strictures were ignored.

His army, and that included his senior commanders, had been subjected to the same speech before they departed Sicily, one he had assailed them with on previous campaigns, a special emphasis being addressed to the newly joined troops under Constantinus. The land they were going to was being brought back to its rightful ownership, that of the true Roman Emperor. The people they would encounter, Goths and their allies apart, were not to be treated as enemies but responsibilities, and just in case anyone harboured doubts, there were sound reasons for kindness.

Required to move at speed and not favoured by numbers, they comprised a host that was in search of a quick result. They also had to be fed and there was no time for foraging or forced extraction of
supplies. Captured cities would pay tribute to the new rulers and that money would be used to purchase what they needed, with word flying ahead to tell other cities they had nothing to fear.

Plunder would come in time but it would be taken from the Goths not the Italians. Two Isaurians who did not heed the message paid with their lives for their transgression, the army marching past the tree that held the two swinging corpses to drive home the point. That second-in-command Constantinus did not agree with either policy of the Belisarian reaction was plain if unspoken. It was also ignored.

The army sought as much as possible to stay near the coast and in touch with the accompanying fleet, not always possible as the old Roman road moved inland. Even if it was not in perfect repair everywhere, there was still enough of the old pavé to permit fast travel and with no enemy close by – Ebrimuth had assured Flavius that the main Goth army was still in Ravenna – it was possible to eschew caution in favour of progress.

There was no need for a cavalry screen. The only people out ahead were his own surveyors and foresters, the former selecting campsites, into which the soldiers following behind would find lines and markers laid out within which to raise their tents. The foresters would have spent the day gathering timber on which the army could cook the supplies that came in the commissary waggons bringing up the rear.

Naturally there was a section set aside for the commanders, usually in the centre of the encampment and on a slight mound and it was here that Flavius Belisarius would entertain his closest advisors and share with them his thoughts, always taking a chance to drive home his message that if this was conquest it came with duties.

As for what lay behind the day’s march, anything pertaining to that fell to Procopius and Solomon his
domesticus
. With a substantial number of clerks to aid him, the general’s faithful secretary and
assessor
, with his sharp legal mind, was required to produce a quick summary of the nature of the provinces once ruled from Rome.

That included titles to land, expected annual yields, population numbers broken down by sex and age, resources such as iron, tin and salt, all of which, once passed by the commander, would be sent back to Constantinople so that Justinian should know the value of his conquests. Solomon was expert at supply, it being no easy task to feed a host the size of that his master led and to him fell the task of purchasing food.

If it was a progress not a march, that ended abruptly when they came to Naples, which not only had sound and formidable walls but a Goth garrison, albeit one few in number. As his fleet sailed into the huge bay, Flavius sent word that they were to press as close as they could to the Neapolitan sea wall but to stay out of range of any ballistae, which would be equipped to fire inflammables, deadly to ships. The aim was not for the fleet to fight but to let the citizens see that, with an army outside the land walls, they were cut off from supply.

Next he sent word to the city demanding the surrender of the garrison and also asking for the presence of someone to represent the indigent population, the notables who ran the city, men with whom he could parley. The Goths who made up the garrison did not even deign to reply but in due course a trio of Neapolitan negotiators were brought to his tent, one filled with his senior officers in full battle equipment.

To get there these worthies had been obliged to make their way between two long files of heavily armed soldiers. That message of strength driven home, Flavius was as charming as he could be, inviting them to sit and take wine, talking of matters unrelated to that which needed to be discussed. In reality he was seeking to gauge who
might be willing to aid him and who might resist any blandishments he made, for he could not hope for common agreement. Naples, like any other great polity, would have factions in its ruling elite and the strongest of those would prevail.

Having set the genial mood to these stony-faced envoys, his first serious question was quite abruptly produced. ‘The Goths occupy the fort, I take it?’

‘I would not be willing to divulge their numbers,’ was the rather sour response from one of the envoys, a pinch-faced fellow named as Asclepiodotus.

‘I do not recall asking, but by your reply I can deduce they do not have the bodies needed to fully man the city walls.’

Asclepiodotus looked annoyed then, as much with himself as with this general who had caught him off guard, only to have to turn and face the next speaker, the second in command of the army, Constantinus, who naturally had the right to speak on such matters.

‘Thus, should you wish to resist, it must be with the aid of the citizenry, who will struggle to stand against trained soldiers.’

Another notable, named Stephanus, responded to that. ‘You did not ask us here to issue threats but to discuss terms. I believe it is first the habit of any putative conqueror to tempt with concessions?’

Flavius and Procopius, also present, exchanged a swift but discreet glance, followed by an almost imperceptible nod from the general. This Stephanus, quick to mention concessions, might be a weak link in what was, at first glance, not a trio willing to accede to demands that really did not have to be stated: open the gates, let us enter and we will take care of the garrison holding the fort.

The third envoy, Pastor, glared at Stephanus, obviously irritated by the tone of his question. ‘Are we here for crumbs? It is for Flavius Belisarius to plead with us, we who make terms, not he!’

‘You seek to impress us with display,’ added Asclepiodotus, his manner offhand as he ran his eyes over the assembled officers, ‘but it takes no great ability to count your own numbers.’

‘I have what I need, Asclepiodotus.’

‘To defeat the Ostrogoths? How many Roman armies thinking themselves superior have left their bones on a battlefield fighting against barbarians?’

‘Perhaps I do not need to fight. My ships blockade your harbour and my soldiers control the countryside.’

‘Your coming is no mystery,’ Pastor said, the implication obvious: food had been stockpiled in case of a siege.

‘I will put aside modesty and assume you know of me,’ Flavius responded, his voice still lacking in any sign of irritation. ‘Therefore you will know that with open gates you have nothing to fear from me and the men I lead. Lock them against me and the matter is altered.’

‘We are but representatives of a larger body, General,’ Stephanus interjected, cutting across his pinched-faced companions who looked set to provide a rude and possibly impertinent answer. ‘We have a senate at our backs to which we must report what you say.’

The other two grunted and nodded in a way that seemed to convey that the soft words of the man addressing them meant little.

‘That I appreciate. What I offer to you is no blood wasted for that which is inevitable, including your Goths if they are practical, set against much death and destruction of what is a pearl of a city and one the Emperor would be both happy and grateful to embrace.’

If the talking continued it did not do so to very much purpose. None of these men, Stephanus included, made any meaningful proposals, repeating the need to consult while Flavius could only repeat his mixture of blandishments and mild threats. Time ran into the sand and the trio departed, each with a gift from their host of
some object of value given to him on the way from Rhegium by a less belligerent city.

Flavius waited till his tent emptied, leaving himself and Procopius alone, his secretary being the man with whom he could share his most intimate thoughts. ‘The Stephanus fellow seems the least ill-disposed.’

That got an emphatic nod. ‘I will seek to get word to him of the rewards he can expect for advancing our cause. I take it I am allowed to be generous?’

Flavius agreed to the bribe but made no enquiry as to how that would be undertaken; it was the sort of nefarious activities at which Procopius excelled. Not for the first time he was inclined to draw a comparison of this man to Justinian and their twin talents for intrigue.

Ever willing to call the Emperor a friend, Flavius could recall too many occasions, long before his rise to his imperial estate, when Justinian had embroiled him in deep conspiracies, never at any time being entirely inclusive in what he was seeking to achieve. It was by those means he had got his childless uncle raised to the purple, his own elevation thus brought about as night follows day.

Yet there was a difference between the two; he trusted Procopius absolutely to act on his behalf and had never had a moment’s doubt that such would be the case, a care that extended even to his troubled private life and that was where comparison faltered. Justinian was too much the weathervane for true reliance, blown off course by his own whims as well as the machinations of the equally devious and tough-minded Theodora.

That thought brought him back to his own marital complications, which were never far from the surface of his considerations. His wife Antonina, left behind in Sicily, had, while in Carthage, formed an unsuitable attraction to their adopted son, Flavius’s godson Theodosius, something to which he had been blind while occupied
fighting the Vandals. Procopius, more in sorrow than prompted by any other emotion, had informed him of what possibilities he had failed himself to see.

If he had harboured any residual doubts they had been challenged by one of Antonina’s own attendants, a slave girl called Macedonia. She had stated as fact that which Procopius had only really hinted at. When he challenged his wife with the information given to him by a person well placed to observe, she had merely dismissed it as irrelevant and a lie.

Theodosius and Antonina were both in Sicily and with his fleet rejoined and in regular contact with the island he had sent Photius to find out if he still had cause for concern, something his position barred him from personally investigating. The young man’s return had not brought comfort; Antonina was, it seemed, behaving like a lovesick adolescent and this with a man twenty years her junior.

Of course, no one would have spoken of such matters in his presence but Photius was seen differently, a youth to be ribbed with sly asides and barely disguised jokes as well as one able to see with his own eyes. Having reported what had been imparted to him, the more salacious jests tempered, the young man gave Flavius a look that he had employed before, one that seemed to ask why his stepfather did not just dispose of them both.

Flavius could not explain, for to do so made him sound even more of a potential dupe, quite beside the fact that such an act would be mortal sin enough as to render him an outcast. Strong in his faith and dedicated to honourable behaviour, he could not repudiate a woman whom he had married, taking solemn vows as he did so, even if her reported conduct broke his heart.

But there was another reason and that impacted on his career as a soldier as well as the campaign in which he was now engaged, one
he was sure required him to lead in order to be successful. If that was immodest for Flavius it was based on a sound appreciation of the qualities of the man who stood to replace him.

Constantinus was a good general but for Flavius he was too eager a conqueror. Even in Illyria, where he had successfully campaigned in a land which was firmly the territory of his emperor, he had apparently treated the local population as if they were an extension of his enemy, allowing his troops the freedom to despoil as they saw fit.

Antonina was also a bosom and long-time companion of the Empress Theodora, indeed it was she who had brought them into intimate contact within the imperial palace. Having, he suspected, manoeuvred them into marriage – Flavius was honest enough to admit to being willingly seduced by a woman for whom he still had a deep affection – Theodora had insisted Antonina accompany Flavius on his North African campaign.

Unsure of why that should be it had taken Procopius to alert him to a depressing fact and one not in dispute. His wife was writing to Theodora relating anything her husband uttered that would be taken as disrespectful to both Justinian and herself. When he thought on that he was brought to the blush by some of the jests he had made, sure they would never be reported to someone ever on guard for treachery.

Theodora resented his friendship with her husband, which preceded her own connection. Flavius Belisarius could plead till the stars fell from the sky that he had no ambition other than to serve a man to whom he owed a debt and he considered a friend, as well as an empire to which he had dedicated his life. It would be in vain.

The Empress, risen from such a humble background – she had been a singer, an excitingly daring dancer and perhaps more besides – had raw nerves when it came to her class allied to her position. She knew
there were people who would be only too willing to rip her into small pieces, and saw disloyalty and threats to imperial security everywhere.