by Jack Ludlow
‘Perhaps if they had?’
‘Then we would have even more trouble on our border than we have now. Enough, sad to say, I must leave you two young folk to talk, I have to do my nightly rounds.’
Petrus did not speak until Justinus had said his farewells, which included the admonition that now Flavius was back they would have to return him to Excubitor duty. Again the expression on the face of Petrus was of more interest, as he gave his uncle a look that bordered on disappointment, very brief and soon replaced by blandness when he realised Flavius had observed it.
‘Perhaps I will take Flavius to meet some of my friends.’
‘Spare him.’
‘What, Uncle, a fellow just back from the wars? If he is anything like the other Excubitor officers, then he is in need of the comfort only a woman can provide.’
‘Not the kind of woman to whom you will introduce him,’ Justinus barked over his shoulder as he departed.
‘Precisely the kind.’
Petrus said this softly, as he indicated the servants who had attended upon their meal should leave them alone. Then he leant forward to refill the goblet that sat before Flavius.
‘Why have you brought me back, Petrus? Clearly Justinus did not initiate it.’
‘Believe me, it was for a purpose.’
‘Which is?’
‘My uncle trusts you.’
‘Justinus trusts many people.’
‘Not always a wise course, even for a man of an artless nature. But put that aside and ask yourself what is coming here in Constantinople. Anastasius is fading, he has more ailments than his strength can resist. When he dies, and that could be this very night, then who will become emperor and what will become of my uncle?’
‘Do you not mean what will become of you?’
‘I admit to the concern. What is necessary is to ensure that whoever assumes the purple is in some way indebted to Justinus, so much that he may even rise to a position greater than that he now holds.’
‘Tell me, Petrus, do you think Justinus could have stayed as comes Excubitorum without you to aid him?’
‘Secretaries are nor hard to come by.’
‘I did not have you down as a man given to self-deprecation. He has held his position with your aid and he will need that whatever he aspires to.’
‘The problem with my uncle, Flavius,’ Petrus replied bitterly, ‘is that he aspires to so very little, so I must do so on his behalf.’
In the silence that followed, Flavius had the feeling that try as he might he would never be able to see into the mind of the man he had just dined with. If Petrus said he had an aim there was ever the feeling that much lay beyond it and undisclosed. What he said next did come as a surprise.
‘In order to protect him from his own lack of ambition, or indeed a need to secure his back, I require that you aid me. Thus I engineered your return.’
‘Me!’
‘I am engaged in some very delicate negotiations that I hope will secure a bright future for us all. To proceed I need with me someone who can make sure that I am not a victim of the secret knife yet who will not disclose to anyone what is said and to whom.’
‘And I am that person?’
‘Yes, Flavius, you are, and before you protest let me say what is important. I believe it to be true and in doing so I will be putting my life in your hands, for there are any number of people vying for the diadem and if I can see how fast our emperor is fading so can they, not least his own discredited nephews.’
Having been part of the military disgrace of the best of them, Hypatius, Flavius could only nod; the other two, Pompeius and Probus, were held to be so unsuitable for high office as to be a laughing stock, though Flavius silently admitted to himself, as Petrus kept speaking, a serious look on his face, that such things were beyond the comprehension of a mere junior officer.
‘There is one courtier who not only aspires to decide on the wearer of the purple but seeks my aid to gain the throne for his man and the price of that aid will, of course, be paid for in consideration for us.’ Seeing Flavius’s eyebrows go up and in conclusion, Petrus added. ‘If my uncle prospers, so will you.’
To avoid alluding to the evident fact that Petrus cared more for his own advancement than that of himself or perhaps even his own relative, Flavius ask the obvious question. ‘Who is this aspirant?’
‘One thing at a time, Flavius. Can I rely on you to aid me?’
‘You can rely on me to do anything that will protect your uncle, a man who has shown me nothing but kindness.’
‘One day, perhaps,’ Petrus sighed, ‘you will hold me in the same light as that paragon.’
Tempted to deny the possibility, Flavius just smiled.
CHAPTER THREE
To go from being a fighting soldier to a member of the elite imperial unit required such a degree of change that Flavius, for several days, felt lost. He had been greeted warmly by those he knew from his original induction into the Excubitors, sensing that only a few, as had many on the frontier, resented his connection to their commander. Yet everything in the palace was so different and not just because of the sheer number of functionaries that staffed the various bureaux that ran the empire.
As a breed these were so very different even from the civilian officials at Dara, having about them a guardedness that even manifested itself in their way of movement. Few came striding through the endless corridors with the confidence their eminence should provide. Most were silent and wary, the worst adopted a sort of slinking way of walking, accompanied by many an over-the-shoulder look as if they feared immediate arrest, which made Flavius wonder how much they were stealing or taking in bribes, these being the methods, and it was no secret, by which such people enriched themselves.
He had to assume the atmosphere was more troubled than normal given the Emperor was fading, albeit lingering by rallying in a way that increased the tension. There would be all sorts of conspiracies and manoeuvres being initiated, alliances made and broken, with many a pledge examined to seek to find if it was true or false. To meet any eye other than that of a fellow soldier was to feel as if one was being weighed as an asset on a set of unknowable scales.
Who are you, what are your connections, should I acknowledge you or guard against you? That was the commonplace, yet to accompany Petrus down those same pillared corridors was doubly instructive, he obviously being someone whom these functionaries reckoned to either guard against or to seek to impress and he was not slow to relate the reasons why.
‘Friends are necessary, enemies more numerous and care is required when the man promising to aid you is secretly preparing to bring you down. It is hard to rise in imperial service, Flavius, and too easy to fall, and when you do there is no bottom.’
There was a pause as Petrus nodded a greeting to a gorgeously clad fellow passing in the other direction, followed by several slaves carrying baskets of scrolls.
‘You are a soldier and like my uncle you take death, even a painful one, to be the risk of your chosen path. Many of those we pass have crawled on their knees or paid out in gold to attain a position at court only to find they are surrounded by others who will embrace them just before they betray them. It frays even the stoutest nerves.’
‘I sense you thrive on it.’
‘It is a sport in which I take pleasure, that is true.’
‘So you do not fear death either?’
‘Disgrace, Flavius, that is what all here fear, even the soldiers, and then there is beggary if you are blinded. Great fortunes are to be made but there are dungeons below where you can be forgotten, cells where the rats can eat at your toes for decades.’
Petrus stopped and hauled on Flavius to do likewise. ‘Just make out we are deep in conversation.’
‘Why?’
‘I need to be sure we are not being watched.’
‘Talk? What about?’
‘Tell me of that fight you had when serving under Narses?’ Seeing the younger man’s eyes open with surprise,
Petrus added. ‘It cannot shock you that I know of it.’
‘Did you have me spied upon?’
‘Flavius, I esteem you and trust you but please take no offence if I say you are scarce worth that. I did, however, need to know that you were alive, or if not—’
‘Which would require you to correspond with someone.’
‘Regarding the situation on the border, I did with several and your well-being was supplemental. Now tell me how you pulled off your little charade for it interests me?’
As he did so, Flavius was far from sure Petrus was really listening. Placed as they were in a long and well-frequented corridor it seemed he spent more time flicking glances to those who came and went by the pillar near which they stood, some to be ignored when close, others to be acknowledged with a nod.
‘Narses is a good soldier but too cautious. He could have seen it as I did but chose not to—’
The interruption was physical and, for a man of such slight frame, surprisingly strong. Petrus dragged Flavius deeper into the gap between two pillars then along behind them to a small doorway on which he rapped a tattoo. It was opened quickly and the youngster was bundled into a chamber that lacked a window and was lit only by guttering candles. It took a moment to sense the other person present and time for the eyes of Flavius to adjust and take in his physical features, even longer to make out the face.
‘Amantius,’ Petrus said softly.
The voice that replied was restrained and hoarse. ‘It is past the appointed time.’
‘Better a wait than we and our purpose should be discovered.’
The man was either bald or he shaved his head. Maybe it was the indifferent light but his eyes seemed sunk into a head that appeared as well-defined as a skull, with prominent cheekbones and a substantial lantern jaw.
‘Let me introduce my companion, Flavius Belisarius, whom you will observe is a member of the Excubitors.’
‘Not a very elevated one.’
‘If a man of higher rank were here, Amantius, given what we are about to discuss, he might see it as his duty to stick a sword in our vitals. For what we propose to do you need the aid of the junior officers of the Excubitorum, for it is they who are close to the common soldiers and they who will be able to marshal them to our aid as well as convey to them the promise of great reward.’
‘And to protect me and my candidate?’
‘That too.’
The man stepped a pace forward, which increased the light that shone on him. He was not of any great height and had a narrowness to his body that matched that of Petrus. His eyes were on Flavius and unblinking, the youngster thought trying to see into his soul, and when he spoke it was to confirm that was his purpose.
‘I will need to place much faith in you and your like.’ When Flavius did not respond, only holding steady the mutual gaze, the bald man nodded. ‘You stay silent, no protestations of constancy or reliability. That is good.’
‘For to do so would sound false,’ Petrus added, which got a hearty nod. ‘It is however necessary, Amantius, that my young friend knows who you are and what offices you hold.’
‘They are many. All he needs to know is that the advantages of my positions provide the means by which I will succeed in rewarding the men who guard the Emperor, when they allow the man I have chosen to assume his mantle.’
Flavius had to fight hard not to suck in an audible breath then: what was this Amantius saying – that he was going to decide who would be emperor when Anastasius passed away?
‘No man will deserve it more than whosoever you have chosen, for no one within these walls can surpass you in your wisdom.’
Again it was hard not to react to those words from Petrus, so silky and to the ears of one who knew him well, utterly insincere.
‘The rewards must be in place before the Emperor dies but cannot be distributed until the very moment our loss is announced.’
‘It would be to our advantage if that could be precipitated, Petrus.’
‘Too risky. Anyone trying would perish in the attempt.’
‘Justinus,’ Amantius hissed, as if the name referred to some kind of plague.
‘What would you have him do? My uncle will serve you and your man faithfully once he is enthroned for he has pledged himself to protect the imperial person. But you must accept he will do likewise for Anastasius while he still breathes. Consider this, that a man who would betray one emperor, would do like to another.’
‘Is he so much the paragon?’
It was Flavius who answered. ‘He is, sir.’
That brought a look of doubt to the cadaver-like countenance. ‘What if your paragon orders you to stand aside?’
‘Amantius,’ Petrus purred, ‘leave my uncle to me.’
‘He may commit himself to another.’
‘He will never commit himself to anyone until they are wearing the diadem. To do otherwise would mean intriguing and that he avoids, which is why the way is open for the proposed elevation of your chosen successor. The younger officers of the Excubitors will ensure that the route to the imperial apartments are sealed off and their men will have orders to use force to ensure that you have a clear field. It will take a brave fellow to challenge them.’
‘And if they have their reward, Petrus, what of you?’
‘You know what I wish, that my uncle shall either hold his present office or, with your grace and if you so desire, that he be elevated to another higher appointment. My task is to be in his service but perhaps, in time, when matters are settled and all is secure, I will seek something for myself.’
‘And this young man?’
‘He too will be patient.’
The eyes fixed on Flavius again. ‘I am about to entrust you with a great deal.’
‘Not just Flavius, but me too. How can we repay such trust with anything other than blind loyalty?’
‘Where will you store the treasure?’
It was as well Amantius was not looking at Flavius when he asked that question: the word ‘treasure’ had the eyebrows shooting up and they stayed there as Petrus responded.
‘It must be within the palace for it cannot be brought here when the time is ripe. The only secure place is within the working apartments of my uncle, who will never know of its presence.’
‘And they are hard by the imperial chambers. That, God rest his soul, is where Anastasius will expire, given he is now too weak to move from his bed.’
Amantius was nodding with vigour as he spoke. Lit by the candles his eyes seemed to gleam and that conveyed a sense of suppressed excitement, quickly masked as Petrus spoke again.
‘I have chosen Flavius as the officer to take on the task of organisation because he has access to those apartments, being much feted by Justinus, indeed treated as the general would treat a son. The officer in charge of the detachment set to guard the imperial suite will go to their general first with the news of the Emperor’s demise, which is his duty. You, of course, will know what has occurred at the same moment.’
A nod accompanied by a more thoughtful look was the response, as if he was seeking ways such a thing could go wrong.
‘I will be made aware, too, because it has been arranged, alert to the point at which you will need to get your candidate through to the imperial chambers, while I send Flavius to ready his fellow officers, those to whom I have imparted what is to take place. They’ll then take up the stations and only those you designate will be permitted to pass through them.’
The croak that got hinted at real dread. ‘You have not used my name to these people?’
‘All they know is that a high and deserving person aspires to the diadem and it is one considered to be well suited to rule our empire, also that he sees the need to reward loyalty as have emperors in times past to those who have aided him. They do not know any names and will not until they are called upon, when I fetch you to them, to acclaim your candidate. At that point your chests of gold, brought out by Flavius, will be opened and distributed.’
‘There are only two tongues about which you have to worry and they’re both in your presence. No one else knows your name and since you have been guarded, even I do not know who you propose to make emperor.’
‘Who else is plotting? Who has a plan that will thwart ours?’
‘The imperial nephews are seeking support and finding none, while those with ambition meet only like minds. No one senator will stand aside for the other so they waste their words on plans that will never mature. None has seen the need to befriend the Excubitors, believe me I would know if they had, for I meet with them constantly. Only you will have a clear path.’
Amantius stepped forward to clutch at Petrus’s arm. ‘If you are true to me and mine, you will not regret it.’
‘My uncle?’
‘Will have much to thank you for.’ The sunken eyes turned towards Flavius. ‘And you too, young fellow.’
‘Do show some gratitude, Flavius,’ Petrus purred when he did not respond. The result was a croak as hoarse as the voice of the man at whom it was aimed, this with Petrus still talking. ‘Flavius will come to your villa tonight and fetch away the funds we need. We dare not delay.’
‘It is sinful to wish death upon another, but I swear I will not sleep till Anastasius has breathed his last.’
‘It is true we cannot pray for such, but if God is merciful it is not impious to wish a body in pain and a soul in fear of damnation to be released into peace. We will leave now, Amantius. I trust you will be wise enough to wait awhile before doing likewise.’
Flavius had his arm taken and again he was ushered back out to the corridor, his face now with a thunderous look aimed at Petrus and a stride that obliged the intriguer to walk fast to keep pace.
‘Your anger does not shock me, Flavius. Conspiracy is not to your liking, I suspect.’
‘It is not and especially one of this magnitude.’
‘All I ask is that you go to the villa of Amantius tonight and fetch his gold.’
