The time had come to send away those of his generals who may cause him trouble. Flavius despatched John Vitalianus and several of the commanders who had come with Narses, their task to take over with their contingents various Goth fortresses dotted over northern Italy. His reasons being sound this was readily accepted; such a move would nullify the risk of any attempt to relieve Ravenna as well as ease what might become a drain on supplies.
Not stated by either party was the motive for the way his orders were eagerly welcomed. With the Goths virtually beaten, these men would be free to plunder at will and in a polity that would willingly give up its possessions to avoid being ravaged. To the likes of John Vitalianus, Ravenna, though a wealthier prize, might turn into a siege of months, if not years. Better a bird in the hand when it came to full coffers.
If moving problem generals proved easy to accomplish, there was as yet many a dilemma to solve, not least the probing curiosity of Procopius. To avoid his secretary was impossible; they worked in close harmony on a daily basis on such matters as feeding the army, the state of the men’s health and corresponding with the various other commands and functionaries all over the Italian peninsula and Illyria, as well as communicating with Constantinople.
If Procopius probed to little avail that was as nothing to Antonina, who had a nose that could smell conspiracy a league away. In addition to her curiosity she added another problem to the life of her husband, for Flavius had sent Photius back to the capital once more. His wife had then sent for Theodosius, a man too fearful of Antonina’s natural son and possible violence to ever be in the same place.
Her husband was too preoccupied to give it the attention it deserved; having challenged Antonina in Sicily, following on from the revelations made by her maid, and having received an outright denial of any impropriety, he had to accept that even with what he had been told by Photius he had no actual proof that she had transgressed.
He had a plan to implement and for once it was held within himself, not even discussed with Procopius, not yet confided to his generals and certainly kept well secret from his wife. He had supplies moved closer to Ravenna, so that the besieged city could be fed, and then called a conference to gain support for his aims.
’Though I will not yet refer to the conditions under which this has been made, the Goths have sent envoys offering to surrender their capital and bring an end to the war in Italy.’
That set them talking, as each mind calculated what this would mean to them; war brought rewards, but so did peace. Flavius let it rumble on until it began to naturally diminish, eyes turning from neighbourly exchanges regarding what offices might fall to the successful and back onto the man who would control them.
‘I have good reason to believe that Witigis will stand down as their leader, or failing that be deposed by the same kind of vote that gave him the crown. The question we must settle is this: is such an outcome best for the empire? As you will know from my difference with Narses, my instructions from our emperor set that as a tie to any action I take.’
‘And the alternative?’ asked Martinus, exercising his right of seniority to enquire, even if the answer was obvious.
‘To take Ravenna by storm?’
‘In doing so we would lose many of our soldiers,’ Martinus replied, to a ripple of agreement. ‘They are as likely to drown in the marshes as fall to an arrow or sword.’
‘I agree it will not be easy.’
‘Given it would take time, we would have the problem of supply,’ added Ildiger.
‘All of this is true, but what I require from you is open support for my own inclinations, which is to accept the Goth offer.’
Flavius let that sink in; he was being open and if any had doubted why he had sent so many men and their commanders away they could be in no doubt now. It was also unnecessary to explain the politics of what he was seeking, nothing less than a full agreement to a course of action on which he had set his mind, as a means of protecting himself against future censure.
The history of the empire was replete with instances of men being successful in war being brought low at some later stage for real or perceived corruption on campaign and that was a many-headed beast that rarely had much to do with the theft of treasure. Victory always raised a man’s profile, which made him an automatic target for anyone either jealous or fearful that their present situation could be rendered insecure. Even if they could not bring him down they could dent his reputation.
He had made a foe of Narses, for one, and he was a man with too many connections to treat lightly. The old eunuch would not be alone in a city where Flavius knew he already had enemies, even if such people never revealed themselves. A smile and warm greeting in the corridors of the imperial palace was not to be taken at face value; it could just be the prelude to an accusation of malfeasance.
‘I see the Goths as humbled. To fight on and seek to destroy them is not in the best interests of both the empire and the Emperor. So I propose to accept the offer of surrender and enter Ravenna under truce, sparing the Goths any blood as I spare the men I lead. If any here think that unwise or contrary to my instructions say so now.’
There were any number of exchanged looks before the nodding began, that followed by vocal acceptance.
‘Good, I will ask my secretary to prepare a document to which we will all append our signatures and our seals. If that offends anyone’s sense of honour I ask your forgiveness, but hope that you will see the need.’
Once that was prepared and signed Flavius sent word to Witigis, still the Goth leader, saying that he would accept the surrender of the city and enter at the head of his army within two days. That completed, the barges full of grain seized by Vitalius, which had been held back by the low water in the river, would be allowed into the city to feed a near starving population, this ensuring that the Byzantines would be welcome by the populace if not the warriors.
Given time to prepare, the Byzantine army worked hard to shine in what all saw as a victory parade, one not dissimilar to that which might one day follow down the Triumphal Way in Constantinople. Every bit of finery owned by every soldier would be on display and that went too for their general, who wore his finest armour and rode his most handsome horse.
His place was ahead of the open-sided palanquin in which sat a superbly attired Antonina, insisting on her right to give precedence only to her husband and not his officers or men. It was a sorrow to Flavius if not to her that Photius was absent from this moment, galling that behind his wife rode Theodosius, who had put not one jot of effort into the campaign but seemingly spent his time both in North Africa and Italy fleecing the locals and filling his coffers, albeit in a quasi-legal fashion.
The Goth nobles had gathered before the Roman palace built by the Emperor Honorius to greet their conqueror and, for many included in the conspiracy, they hoped their future ruler. In the latter they were to be disappointed: following on from the formal handing over of the keys of the city, the first thing they were told was that his loyalty to his own ruler and the empire transcended anything else that could be gifted to him.
That declaration set up loud objections; had Flavius not promised their envoys of his intention to accede to their offer of the kingship? Equally of interest was the expression this engendered on the faces of his senior commanders, all finding out for the first time that such a proposal had even been advanced. The most telling was that of Procopius, who could not keep off his face a thunderous look, there to indicate his feeling of a personal betrayal.
There were Goths present prepared to react with violence and they had to be restrained by their more sober comrades. The men Flavius led had already set about disarming their foes and here, within the audience chamber of the old palace, the man who had repudiated what they thought had been a commitment was surrounded by his personal bodyguards in numbers that would do nothing other than produce a massacre.
‘There were fears that your assembled would be sent to Constantinople as captives. That, I assure you, will not happen.’
‘Are your assurances worth anything, Flavius Belisarius?’
‘Yes, Witigis, they are, but I require that those who have homes elsewhere disperse. If they do not, I must confine them as I am obliged to do to you.’
‘Is that what I am now?’ Witigis asked. ‘A prisoner?’
‘An honoured one who will be treated with respect.’
‘Our treasury, which you led us to believe would be safe?’
‘How many talents of gold do you think Justinian has expended in Italy? Is it not the misfortune of war that the loser must forfeit what they own to offset that? If I left it in your hands I would as well leave my head along with it. I could soon be accused of harbouring it for myself.’
Ennes stepped forward to take charge of Witigis, who was escorted to a set of the old imperial apartments. The guard commander already had his instructions to treat the Goth leader with respect and to ensure that whatever comfort could be provided for him be made available. Flavius, once his audience had dispersed, made his way to the part of the palace once occupied by Theodoric.
If he was not a Goth king he was yet the ruler of that leader’s old patrimony and one of his duties would be to visit the great mausoleum built to hold the great man’s remains, this being a personal inclination to honour Theodoric’s memory as well as a politic act to impress the inhabitants.
Behind the army came the instrument that would control the fate of the city: Procopius and his numerous clerks, along with priests who would rededicate churches that had been used in the Arian rite back to an observance of proper Roman Christianity, albeit instructions had been issued that they be tolerant of religious differences.
If Flavius had faced the Goths without any conscience, that did not extend to his secretary, who plainly felt betrayed though he held in his feelings until a whole raft of matters had been dealt with, orders issued to military commanders and various officials regarding the governance of the city. Knowing what was coming, once they were alone, Flavius got his reasoning in quickly.
‘I did not swear to accept.’
‘Then why give the impression that you had?’
‘You can ask that in the one-time residence of a Roman emperor? I have Ravenna without having to fight to gain it. My soldiers are, as we speak, taking control of the provinces to the north without spilling a single drop of blood. I have brought to an end nearly five years of conflict.’
‘So it was a deliberate falsehood?’
‘It was a stratagem and a successful one and at no time did I ever issue a binding oath. I cannot fathom why you are so troubled.’
‘No, and there is the pity. I find I have dedicated my life to a man who cannot see what is in his own interest and is blinded by a faith that I do not share. Do you think this will end the malice of Theodora? Do you think that Justinian will treat you as he should? Did you ever truly consider what it was the Goths were offering and where it could lead?’
‘I did, Procopius. I gave it much thought.’
‘And chose the wrong course.’
‘To your mind, not mine,’ Flavius insisted. ‘Do you not know me after all these years? Do you not know where I would seek reasons on how I should act?’
The response had about it a quality of defeat. ‘Your father.’
‘My whole family, Procopius, may God rest their souls. I was brought up to be a Roman and so were my brothers. Our father saw it as the highest duty of our lives to live and, if need be, die for the empire and that is the fate that fell to them even if it was a tainted one. It is my hope that one day, I may meet them in some celestial paradise, especially the man I revered most in all my life. Would you have me face him when I betrayed that which he held dear?’
‘You were afforded the chance to enhance the empire by being its ruler.’
‘At the cost of rebellion. That is too high a price chalice from which I do not wish to sup.’
‘Beware there is not a cup of poison awaiting you anyway.’
‘You would have me act the creature Theodora suspects me to be. Even without the memory of my father that is something to which I could never ascribe.’
Over the weeks that followed Flavius saw his policy bear fruit as one after another the Goth leaders who had not been trapped in Ravenna came to the city to offer obeisance to this new dispensation. Yet as always there was a gremlin waiting to fracture what should have been a satisfactory whole, a single leader called Ildibadus, who held Verona. Initially willing to surrender, he withdrew that when he heard that the Goth treasury was to be forfeit to Justinian.
Added to that, his fellow nobles were deeply unhappy that Flavius had spurned their offer of either regal of imperial estate and Ildibadus became the focus of that dissent. He had an ally in the nephew of Witigis who still held Milan, and, combined, the pair formed a bloc that tore a hole in the peaceful fabric Flavius was seeking to construct. He had to watch from the sidelines as moves were made to elect a new king, the crown finally being settled on the head of lldibadus, though not before, at his instigation, it had once more been offered to and declined by Flavius Belisarius.
Given their losses and his strength this did not worry the man who had taken Ravenna; he was sure that very little campaigning would be required to put paid to any attempt by this truncated force to effect matters. It was an irritant, not a difficulty, that was till matters elsewhere intervened, this in the form of an order from Justinian.
‘Recalled?’
‘To take command in the east, Magister.’
There was a look on the face of Procopius and Cabasilis, the descendant of a famous imperial general and the messenger from Constantinople, as if to imply such orders were only an excuse to get him to the capital where reasons would be found to arraign him for some invented offence, and there was one obvious risk. Could the news of the Goth offer have got to Constantinople and back again in such a short time?
That it would not remain a secret was obvious, there were too many people now involved and Flavius had to assume his own inferior commanders would have picked up more than just rumours, though nothing had been said in his presence. Antonina, if she had found out, would be as indiscreet as always and she was perfectly capable, it seemed, of ascribing to him motives the opposite of those he displayed.
Then there was Procopius, clearly unhappy; relations between the two had palpably soured in the month since the occupation of the Goth capital. There were no more private conversations and certainly no discussion of policy. Now everything was done in a way that spoke of estrangement; formal and being businesslike it was also impossible to fault.
Flavius had known that matters were far from peaceful on the eastern frontier long before Cabasilis arrived. The so-called Endless Peace which had been concluded between Justinian and King Kavadh, the late ruler of the Sassanid Empire, was always fragile, having been bought, Justinian paying the princely sum of eleven thousand pounds in gold to keep him within the borders of his own empire, more being supplied annually.
That it had held for eight years was remarkable; Kavadh had agreed to peace many times, only to break it when he needed to bleed Constantinople for funds to pacify the many tribes that formed his fractious subjects. He ruled over communities that were forever fighting each other or seeking to combine to bring him down. If the tribes were not rebelling the Sassanid nobles were conspiring, and they had in the past been too powerful an entity for their king to tame.
With Kavadh gone his son Khusrow had proved to be a more astute ruler. He made better use of the Byzantine gold, employing it to bolster his positon, most tellingly to break the power of those high nobles who led large bodies of soldiers and could thus, in alliance with tribal leaders, threaten his position.
Khusrow had also re-formed the Sassanid army so that it was no longer under the control of numerous satraps but the king himself, and more formidable for it, and he had once more begun to ravage the domains of the Eastern Empire. He would be back next year when the rivers were flowing fast enough to water thousands of horses and the fields full of ripening crops with which to feed an invading army.
‘Cabasilis, does he not know that another year here will see matters settled for good?’
That was a foolish question, born out of frustration, to put to a mere messenger and it got the only possible reply. ‘I can only convey his instructions, Magister, and they were plain.’
‘I ask you to leave us, Cabasilis. Solomon, my domesticus will provide you with food and wine, and feel free to use the baths.’
‘My instructions were to see you board the vessel in which I came and to sail home immediately.’
Flavius laughed at the absurdity – it was typical of the man he knew to issue such a command without any thought to the ramifications. Flavius could not just leave as if he was going for a stroll, there were still responsibilities to exercise. He had to make sure that everything was in place and that his successor had a proper grasp of that which needed to be done.
The Goth treasure would go with him, ensuring a welcome in Constantinople, for riches delivered to an emperor always partly fed down to the citizens as well as the victorious soldiers. Added to that, after a successful five-year campaign, he would be leaving without the results of his efforts: chests of gifts and coffers full of what was his just due in rewards. And then there was Antonina and their combined retinue of servants.
‘Leave immediately, without gathering my possessions? Surely not even Justinian would have me arrive back in his city naked and a beggar?’
The messenger was young and even if very well connected he was in the presence of the conqueror of Italy. It would be impolitic to argue so he did as he was bid and left the chamber. A sign from Flavius had his guards and attendants do likewise.
‘I am minded to send for Justinian and ask him to delay this move.’
‘Are you seeking my advice, Magister?’
There was no mistaking the coldness of the tone, which brought Flavius no pleasure and he responded with deliberate calm. ‘I am.’
‘And if I no longer feel qualified to provide it?’
‘I have offended you, I know, Procopius, but our association is one of many years’ duration, I hope prolonged enough to allow that you fulfil a function I have always found of value. Justinian has presented me with a dilemma and I am at a loss to be sure of how to respond.’
‘Since you trumpet your loyalty to the empire and he rules it you do not have a choice. He commands, you obey.’
‘So we go back to the east and leave the final act here to another?’
‘We, Magister?’ The slow shake of the head preceded the blow. ‘I fear there is much to do still in Italy that I feel required to oversee. It is also true that you might prefer to depend on another to carry out those functions which you have entrusted to me in the past.’
If Flavius was at a loss as to how to respond he was never going to plead, nor would he refer to what had remained unspoken; what Procopius would have gained if he had taken the Goth crown and the imperial title of Western Emperor. His secretary was ambitious, which was fitting, and if they had never discussed where his association with Flavius might lead, it had never been much of a mystery.
Despite his reservations about the motives of Justinian, Procopius knew that the Emperor reposed a certain faith in the man he served. Not enough, he would maintain, to imperil his position or even slap down his wife but sufficient, barring some terrible failure, to ensure that his favourite general would always hold lucrative and powerful commands and the concomitant of that was a position of importance would likewise fall to his secretary-cum-legal advisor.
How far that could lead was again never openly alluded to, but surely at some point Flavius Belisarius would move on from being a field commander to some great office in the imperial bureaucracy, despite the malice of Theodora. Again Procopius would rise with him, yet such an elevation always lay on the edge of a cliff; close to the actual seat of power it was possible to fall much more rapidly, so it never held the true promise of security.
There was little doubt now that Procopius had engineered the offer of the Goth crown. That, to him, solved all the possible future problems he could envisage. No longer a mere legate of Justinian, Flavius would treat with him as an equal and perhaps even threaten his diadem and behind that would sit his trusted factotum, free to dream that one day he himself might even hold the highest office of state, not just in Ravenna, but in Constantinople.
‘If I cannot feed your ambitions, Procopius,’ Flavius concluded sadly, ‘I can only assert my allegiance. Oblige me by calling Vitalius to my presence, so I can begin the handover of my command. I hope you serve him as well as you have served me.’