by Marié Heese
“Have the fellow flogged,” said Narses. “And then send him away.”
“Flogged?”
“Yes. That should clearly demonstrate that you have no special feelings for him.”
“But … flogged! That seems so drastic …”
“Do you have special feelings for him, Despoina?”
“No! I just found him to be very useful!”
“Then have him flogged.”
“Then … then … see to it. And remove him from court.”
“I’ll certainly see to that,” said Narses.
Theodora sat staring desperately, like a child suddenly bereft of a parent’s love. “Will he … will the Emperor … come round, then? Do you think?”
“He loves you dearly, Despoina. Had he not, this would not have angered him so much.”
She nodded forlornly.
“You should show no distress,” advised Narses. “Make it clear that the fellow had no particular importance to you.”
“Yes, yes, of course, that’s what I must do. But Narses – do you think Cappadocian John was responsible for this?”
“It smells of him,” said Narses. “He has lately returned to the city after travelling through the provinces.”
“I detest that man,” said Theodora. “But I can’t persuade Justinian to get rid of him.”
“Well, he’ll not succeed in destroying your marriage if you do not let him.”
“No. No, I won’t.”
“For the time being,” said Narses, carefully, “you should not contradict the Emperor in anything he chooses to do. I know that there is often robust debate between you, Despoina, and I know that you are often able to convince him of your views, but … just for a while … be compliant. Submissive.”
“Yes,” said Theodora. “Yes, you’re right. I will.”
The handsome young Areobindus was thoroughly and publicly flogged and then disappeared from court.
“I need a new steward, my love,” said Theodora in a brisk and businesslike tone over lunch. “The other turned out to be … most unsatisfactory. I had him flogged.”
“So I heard,” said Justinian. He looked at her assessingly. “And dismissed?”
“Of course.”
“Where did he go?”
“I really have no idea.” She peeled an apple. The sharp blade severed the delicate linked sections of rosy skin from the white flesh. She concentrated on trying to keep the skin all in one piece.
“Ah. So, appoint anyone you want.”
“Thank you, my love. The foundations are almost done. Then perhaps, we should wait a while, since so many buildings need to be restored.”
He grunted.
For some time they sat in silence. With difficulty, she sustained her casual pose.
“Well, then,” said Justinian. He cleared his throat. “I have taken a decision that you may not approve of. But I think it’s necessary.”
“Tell me?”
“Cappadocian John. I’ve decided to raise him to the rank of patrician.”
Theodora choked on a piece of apple. “Really.”
“He’s been indefatigable in bringing in revenue. Quite extraordinarily effective. He’s absolutely indispensable to the crown. You must understand that our needs are vast, on the one hand for reconstruction, on the other for our military aims.”
Theodora stopped coughing. “Yes, my love, I do understand that.”
“You do?”
“Of course.”
“You don’t oppose this?”
“You must do whatever you think best,” said Theodora. “For the Empire.”
“Ah,” said Justinian. He settled back happily in his chair. “Exactly. You see, my dearest, my grand military plan will require considerable financing. My first aim is to take back Africa from the Vandal king.”
Oh, clever Narses, she thought in deep relief.
“Gelimer?” she said. “I’ve heard he’s a wily fighter.”
“Yes, he and his two brothers are formidable in the field. I’m planning to send Belisarius and Pharas to Africa, probably by June. We’ve successfully mopped up the aftermath of the riots, and I believe that they have the capability to take Carthage.”
“And if they should succeed, what next?”
“Then we must turn our attention to the Goths. I am resolved to reclaim Sicily and Italy.”
“Are they not our subjects?” asked Theodora. “I understood their king reigns as our viceroy, and they are under our suzerainty.”
“Nominally,” said Justinian. “Their king is our viceroy only as far as the Romans living there are concerned. He is king of his own people. Of course, they have had no king since Eutharic died in, when was it … oh, 523. Left an infant son. His mother has been regent for more than a decade. Amalasuintha.”
“I have heard the name.”
“Highly intelligent woman. Extremely well educated. Beautiful, too, or so I’m informed.”
“Indeed,” said Theodora. She sliced a section of apple in half. “Better that the Goths should be properly subjugated.”
“My view exactly,” said Justinian. “But first things first: we must prepare to retake Carthage. Cappadocian John has fattened our coffers, so that we are able to rebuild and at the same time provision an expeditionary force to attack the Vandals in Africa.”
“Then Belisarius should be able to depart soon.”
Antonina arrived from Bithynia to take leave of the Empress. She was determined to sail with Belisarius, as she had done before; she would accompany him throughout the coming campaign. It had a noble aim: the first step in the quest for a new Roman Empire, one that would expand and reabsorb its former territories, dominate its enemies and bring its former citizens back into the fold.
“You look blooming,” said Theodora. “Motherhood becomes you. How can you possibly bring yourself to leave little Joannina with your aunt?”
Antonina sighed. “It’s hard,” she said. “Very hard. But I’ve had a year and a half with her. Breastfed her for nine months. It’s best to wean them before they have too many teeth.”
“Has it been that long? I can’t believe it!”
“She was born in the middle of the riots, remember. Yet she is a quiet, happy child.”
“Red hair like yours? Or does she favour Belisarius?”
“Blonde like him,” said Antonina.
“I could never have left her.”
“But she can’t come with me on campaign, it’s far too dangerous for a small baby girl. And I’ll be with Theodosius again.”
“Belisarius still has no notion that he’s more than a godchild to you?”
“No, and thank heavens, neither has Photius. I can’t ever let him find out. He’d do something terrible.”
“Strange that you could have given birth to two such utterly different sons.”
“To utterly different fathers. One born of rape, the other of love. Not strange at all. Tell me, have you given up all hope of having a son yourself, now that Juliana has given you a grandson?”
“Of course, I still have hopes. I’m still young enough. A direct descendant would be so much better than the child of a son of a nephew of old Odd-eyes.”
“Now that you put it like that, your grandson’s claim to the throne does seem a bit distant.”
“But it doesn’t seem as if it will ever happen. And Justinian has been so angry with me about Areobindus, he hardly even spoke to me for weeks, but he’s getting over it.”
“Where did that rumour come from? No truth in it, is there?”
“Of course not! Absolutely none! I suspect Cappadocian John,” said Theodora. “Bloody man! Patrician! Can you believe it?”
“Incongruous,” said Antonina, “in the extreme.”
“And the worst of it is, I’ve had to keep quiet about his promotion and his increasing power, because I had to placate Justinian.”
“I agree, the fellow’s gross and disgusting, but he does bring in the lucre, doesn’t he?’
“Vast amo
unts,” said Theodora gloomily. “Fills the coffers. And we do need it. I’ll never be able to get rid of him.”
“Certainly this military expedition must be costing the crown a mint,” said Antonina. “Oh, God, Theodora, this is a colossal gamble, you do realise that?”
“Lots of nay-sayers,” said Theodora, “predicting an inglorious defeat, if not complete annihilation. Including the Cappadocian, who would love to see both Belisarius and Justinian put to shame.”
“But your husband refuses to be deterred, and mine will sally forth in a spirit of high adventure.” A shared awareness of the perilously thin line separating glory from disaster bound the two women in a moment of silence.
“The Patriarch will lead the entire country in prayers for your success,” said Theodora. “And I will spend time on my knees before the Holy Mother pleading that she may keep her hand over your head.”
“The prayers of many thousands of wives and mothers will be ascending to her ears,” said Antonina. “May they be heard.”
Chapter 4: What do you know of Amalasuintha?
When the fleet set sail for Africa, incense from swung censers rose with prayers and wheeling seagulls on currents of bright air above the myriad masts bobbing like a forest of stripped trunks on undulating land. They were sent forth with chants and blessings, votive candles and thrown flowers. But the first reports to reach Constantinople were not good.
My dearest Theodora, wrote Antonina, Salutations to the Empress!
I regret to inform you that this campaign has begun disastrously. Before we even made landfall in Africa, we had lost five hundred men, all within a few days of each other. They suffered agonising stomach cramps and nausea, their bowels ran and they threw up until they had no bodily fluids left, and then they died. The army physicians were powerless. It was food poisoning, they said, but they were mystified as to the cause. Then they discovered that an enormous quantity of ship’s biscuit had gone mouldy; Belisarius ordered what remained to be destroyed, and the deaths came to an end.
Fortunately, when this happened we were rounding the southern coast of Greece, so Belisarius could order a general disembarkation at Methoni, a town on the south-western promontory. I say fortunately because we were then able to requisition fresh rations, on the authority of the Imperial Warrant.
Belisarius was distraught. A general in the army knows, of course, that lives will be lost. But not like this, not by the perfidy of one of their own countrymen. Theodora, you should know that Cappadocian John was the quartermaster-general responsible for provisioning the ships. We discovered that he had supplied dried bread insufficiently baked to turn it into biscuit that would last. This inflated the weight, and one also suspects that he received a fuel allowance to do the baking, which he doubtless pocketed. The man’s no better than a traitor and a murderer. We must find a way to get rid of him.
I am furthermore convinced that there was more to this than sheer greed. I believe John did his level best to weaken Belisarius and undermine Justinian. Had we not been able to make land and reprovision, the entire expedition could well have ended in failure. We would have had to limp back abjectly, as so many people thought we would.
We have finally reached the port of Catania in Sicily. I shall ask Procopius to post this letter to you in Syracuse; Belisarius is sending him there in a fast galley to procure wine, oil and fresh vegetables. We have been promised that whatever we require will be made available according to the orders of the Gothic regent Amalasuintha. (I’m told her young son Athalaric is completely debauched and addicted to drugs – at least my unloved and unloving son Photius is a disciplined soldier.) Grateful thanks to the Emperor, for arranging the compact that ensured her support. Once we are again well provisioned, we’ll be able to continue our voyage.
It has been tiring and often dangerous, but I have never had a moment’s regret that I did not stay at home. I am happy to be at the side of Belisarius, and to have the company of my dear son Theodosius, given up perforce so long ago, and now by great good fortune close enough to touch. I pray that the Virgin Mother may intercede for you to bless you with a son. Meanwhile, my dear friend, do not neglect your part in achieving this. There surely cannot be more than one immaculate conception.
Ever your loving friend
Antonina
Theodora smiled when she read this. Justinian’s ire about young Areobindus had subsided, and the thrice-weekly trysts in the Sigma suite had resumed. Ah, my friend, she thought, I am indeed doing my utmost. Soon I’ll be able to write to you a letter with the glorious news that I have quickened once again. It will happen. It must happen. Soon, soon.
The allegations regarding the hundreds of lives lost due to mouldy bread were repeated in dispatches. Justinian was furious and ordered an immediate enquiry. Cappadocian John defended himself with vigour, maintaining that he had himself been cheated by a supplier whom he had, unfortunately, trusted. He produced invoices and receipts and witnesses. It was a tragic loss, he said, but he was not at fault.
“And you believe him?” asked Theodora.
“He has supplied proof,” said Justinian.
“Could all have been forged. Witnesses can be intimidated, or bribed.”
“Why would he have done such a thing?”
“To sabotage your war effort. To undermine Belisarius. He is underhand and devious.”
“But he serves us devotedly. Since the riots he has brought in extensive revenues. He is indispensable. No, my love, I think you are unreasonably suspicious. I am convinced of his innocence.”
Narses was inclined to side with Theodora. “I am having that man closely watched, Despoina,” he assured her. “Two of his witnesses have disappeared, and one has acquired a smallholding near Blachernae. Sooner or later he will overreach himself.”
“We must be vigilant,” said Theodora.
It was not long before reports from Africa were brought to Constantinople by fast dromon, sailing before a favourable wind.
Theodora found her husband surrounded by dispatches. “Theodora, my love, hear this! Gelimer has been evicted from Carthage!” exclaimed Justinian. “Belisarius has made his formal entry into the city with his wife at his side! We have reconquered the Vandal kingdom of North Africa!”
“Congratulations, my dearest!” Theodora thought Antonina must have thoroughly enjoyed that dramatic event.
“Ha! That will silence all those feeble nay-sayers who kept reminding me of the defeat in 468,” gloated Justinian.
“Including Cappadocian John. I remember he said success would bring you no lasting gain, while failure would risk the ruin of the state.”
“And even if we were victorious, which he did not expect, we would never hold Africa while Italy and Sicily are in the hands of others. Yes, well, that’s probably true, but they’ll not long remain in the hands of others, if my grand plan succeeds, and I believe it will. God is on our side! Listen to this,” and he read from the most recent report:
“Despotes, your plan to stage a distraction by inciting a revolt in Sardinia worked perfectly. Gelimer took the bait and sent the bulk of his Vandal army under his brother Tzazon to suppress the rebels. Meanwhile, our fleet landed at Caput Vada. The cavalry and the infantry set off to the north towards Carthage, over 140 miles, with the fleet keeping pace with us offshore.
“News of our approaching army had reached the ears of Gelimer. He immediately executed Hilderic, since a deposed king friendly to the Romans could form a nexus of rebellion, and then decided to oppose Belisarius before he reached Carthage.
“In short order, the Byzantines thoroughly routed the Vandal army. They fled westward into the deserts of Numidia. As we prepared to enter the city, Belisarius ordered his army not to kill or enslave any of the people of Carthage, because they were Roman citizens who had suffered under Vandal tyranny for a century. Therefore we were hailed as liberators and the gate was thrown open to welcome our triumphant entry.
“Ha! Do you remember that when Gelimer deposed H
ilderic and imprisoned him, I strongly protested?” asked Justinian. “And he replied to my protest that ‘nothing is more desirable than that a monarch should mind his own business’?”
“I remember that,” said Theodora.
“He is now discovering what happens to arrogant Barbarians when a Roman Emperor does decide to mind his own business.”
“But Gelimer, it seems, is still at large?”
“Yes, he is. And so is his brother Tzazon. There will be more battles yet to come.”
“A remarkable triumph,” said Narses. “It seems that Belisarius is truly smiled upon by Fortune.”
“It does indeed. He has tremendous support among the common people. They revere him as a hero. You don’t think, Narses, that they might wish to elevate him to the throne?”
“The common people,” said Narses, “do not have the power to elect an emperor. They have tried a rebellion, which did not succeed.”
“Yet one must always be aware of their sentiments,” said Theodora. “They almost did succeed. I’ll not forget that.” She sighed. “Narses …”
“Despoina?”
“What do you know of Amalasuintha?”
“Regent of the Goths? Well-born, accomplished, very beautiful woman. Shrewd politically, too.”
“Is she, now?”
“Bore Eutharic one son, Athalaric. She did her best to have him educated in the Roman tradition, as she’d been, but his father died while he was quite small. The Gothic nobles said she was making a weakling of him – said the study of literature and philosophy was completely useless. He should be brought up as a warrior.”
“And she listened?”
“Had to. Child grew up without any discipline. Far from being a warrior, he ended up a wastrel. He’s completely dissipated, they say, drinks so much he passes out regularly, and he’s addicted to opium.”
“A weak government, then.”
“Vulnerable,” said Narses. “The Emperor is aware of this.”
By the time winter came, more good news arrived from the African expedition. Gelimer had regrouped, said the report from Procopius, but still he could not resist the Roman onslaught.
Rather than struggling on alone, Gelimer sent an urgent dispatch to recall his brother, Tzazon, and his troops from their military expedition to Sardinia. When Tzazon arrived in early December, the Vandal army with the two brothers at the head set out for Carthage. This time, in a reversal of roles, Belisarius marched out of Carthage to face Gelimer. When the battle was over, the Vandals had lost over 3000 men, either killed or taken prisoner. The Vandal retreat became a complete rout.
