Читать книгу A Triple-headed Serpent - Marié Heese - Страница 13

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 Hilderic 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.

The Roman army now overran the abandoned Vandal camp, a vast ring formed up with country wagons, protected by nothing better than a flimsy palisade. These wagons yielded a staggering booty, for they were loaded with treasures plundered over many years by the Vandals, which Gelimer’s slaves had hastily carted away from Carthage when they realised that Belisarius was about to win the battle. This booty will vastly improve the scope of the royal coffers when Belisarius brings it home.

“Gelimer only needed to maintain his fighting spirit,” said Theodora. “His army drastically outnumbered ours, didn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, by far. But we had Belisarius,” said Narses. “The man’s a military genius, no doubt about it.”

“Where is Gelimer now? Do we know?”

“He has not surrendered. He fled into a mountain eyrie in Numidia where, according to Procopius, he is being sheltered by the Moors.”

“He could hold out for a long time, then?”

Narses smiled austerely. “One is inclined to doubt that. My spies on the ground report that the Vandals have grown soft, and have become accustomed to luxurious living. In Carthage, they have grand villas with splendid gardens.”

“Doesn’t sound like Barbarians.”

“And,” said Narses, “they have grown accustomed to daily baths. It seems that the Moors who are protecting Gelimer are a wild, impoverished and unhygienic lot. They live, I’m told, in underground huts that are stifling in summer and dank in winter.”

“Must be a sore contrast to Carthage, then.”

“Indeed. Belisarius has detailed a Roman force under Pharas to besiege the mountain stronghold. Gelimer will find it intolerable. Soon the Imperial army will have totally vanquished the Vandals. Mark my words.”

The month of December in the year 533 provided balm for the injured spirit of the Emperor, pained as he had been by the violent rebellion against his authority. The war in Africa seemed to have been sanctioned by God. And then Tribonian delivered a precious parcel: a substantial set of codices, which he piled on Justinian’s table where he sat working night after night while most other people slept.

“Depotes, I have the honour to present the Digesta,” he announced. “Doubtless we shall have a grand public ceremony to inaugurate it together with the Codex Constitutionem. But I have brought it to you, personally, first.”

“The Digesta,” said Justinian. He caressed the embossed covers lovingly, as if they could feel his touch and might be seduced. Turning to Theodora, he said, “My dearest, you know how I have dreamed of this! Even before I took the purple, I dreamed of this!”

“I believe I have won our wager,” said Tribonian, his hawk-nosed patrician face weary but bright with pride. “All completed, within a decade.”

Justinian grinned. “You’ve won the bet. I’ve won the Codex and the Digesta.”

“And the Institutiones, which I delivered last month,” Tribonian added.

“I understand,” said Theodora, “that the Codex listed, clarified and edited all the laws. But the Digesta … ?”

“Despoina, it is about the application and interpretation of laws in specific situations,” explained Tribonian. “You see, this is what practising jurists do: they consider the law and the situation and then they provide opinions as to how the law should be applied. But of course, they can differ and often do.”

“Legal fellows being naturally disputatious,” remarked Theodora.

“So they are. There was a complete confusion of contradictory jurists’ opinions on record, and we have sorted and evaluated them.”

“Now we have a collection of the best to help us administer the laws consistently,” said Justinian. “And we have the Institutiones, which is a manual for students of law.”

“I am delighted, my love,” said Theodora. “It is a singular achievement. We are most grateful for your labours, Tribonian.”

“The Emperor’s mind encompassed all that was needful,” said Tribonian suavely, pocketing his bag of winnings. Doubtless, thought Theodora, there would be more than that: properties, most likely.

“And now all that remains is to overhaul the system of legal training,” said Justinian after Tribonian had bowed himself out.

“I might have known you wouldn’t be completely satisfied. There’ll always be something more you need to do,” said Theodora. Standing behind his chair, she put her arms around his shoulders, leaned down and planted a kiss on his wiry hair.

The siege of Gelimer’s mountain refuge by Pharas continued for three months, reported Procopius:

Then even the barley began to give out, and the Romans blocked fresh supplies of any kind from being brought in. Long denied any luxuries, the Vandals now lacked mere basic necessities and Pharas looked set to starve Gelimer out. At this stage, Pharas sent the Vandal king a letter, promising that if he surrendered, Belisarius would spare his life and Justinian would allow him and his family to live a life of comfort in Constantinople.

Gelimer replied that honour prevented him from yielding, for the war against his people was unjust. He prayed, he wrote, that God would punish Belisarius for the suffering he had brought upon the Vandals. He ended his letter thus: “As for me, I can write no more, so cast down am I by my misfortunes. Goodhearted Pharas, of your charity, send me a sponge and a single loaf of white bread.”

“Not much longer now,” Narses prophesied confidently when he heard this, and indeed, within a few weeks Gelimer had sent another letter, surrendering according to the terms previously proposed, providing Belisarius gave him an undertaking in writing. This Belisarius supplied, and so the Vandal king descended from the mountain and bowed at last to his Roman conqueror.

“I have received a denunciation of Belisarius,” Justinian told Theodora.

“What! Who would denounce the conqueror of the Vandals? The hero of Carthage? The paragon of Nature?”

“Cappadocian John.”

“Ah. Of course, he is jealous. What accusations has he thought up?”

“He claims to have dependable intelligence, from his secret agents in Africa.”

“Claiming what?”

“First, that Belisarius sits on the throne of Gelimer in Carthage, like a king, and seems determined to hold it for himself and his descendants in perpetuity; second, that after conquering the Vandals, he reviled his soldiers in a public denunciation; third, that he is making a secret treaty with the savage Moors; fourth, that he is treating his Vandal captives with suspicious leniency.”

“Serious accusations,” said Theodora. “This military triumph could become a political triumph also – for the conquering hero. He has tremendous support.”

“I know he does. We should test him. If he is deeply ambitious, he’ll probably be anxious to remain and rule in Africa, at least for now, to consolidate his power base.”

“And then, perhaps, turn on us. Yes, we should test him. See where his loyalty lies.”

Justinian sent a missive to Belisarius, commending him and his troops for the highly successful campaign. He did not order the general to come back to the capital, but told him he could either send the spoils and the Vandal prisoners to Constantinople under a suitable escort, while he remained in Africa, or he could bring them back himself. The choice was entirely up to him. Belisarius swiftly replied that he would definitely return. He would leave behind sufficient men to maintain order, with a levy of Roman Africans as garrison infantry headed by the eunuch Solomon, and set sail for home.

Within weeks the victorious General Belisarius and his wife sailed into harbour, accompanied by a fleet bearing Roman troops, rich booty, fifteen thousand prisoners, and the Vandal king. A tumultuous welcome awaited them at the docks, and a warm welcome at the palace. Justinian, having seen something of the stupendous treasure Belisarius had brought, placed an arm around his shoulder and declared: “You are our faithful benefactor! We are greatly pleased!”

Theodora took her friend off to a corner where they could sit comfortably. “You must tell me all about it,” she said. “Was it a long march to Carthage? How do you travel?”

“On horseback. It was a long, frightfully hot and exhausting ride. I’ve often been grateful that my father was a charioteer and later a stable-hand. And Belisarius just won’t accept any privileges of rank. He does exactly what he expects his men to do.”

“So you do, too. No regrets?”

“None. It’s an extraordinary experience, to see him lead his men. He maintains very strict discipline,” said Antonina. “Hanged two drunken Huns on the hill above Abydos for murdering one of their comrades. He wouldn’t let his men rape and plunder on his march across country from the coast. So the locals were supportive, and anyhow the towns were without fortifications.”

“What was it like, entering Carthage?” Compared to Antonina’s adventures, Theodora had begun to feel that her own life lacked spice and colour. “Was there no resistance at all?”

“No, none. The gates were wide open. It was a beautiful sight … it’s a lovely city, you know.”

“So I’m told.”

“Dusk was coming on, and the people had lit lamps in all their houses. The city glowed. All along the streets, they were cheering us on and throwing flowers.”

“And … what did you do then?”

“We went straight to the palace. And the battle had been won so quickly that we were in time to eat the meal that had been prepared for Gelimer.” Antonina laughed her husky, lilting laugh. “It was most amusing, to see all his domestics trotting around eager to serve us, bowing and scraping.”

“It sounds exciting,” said Theodora, somewhat wistfully.

So delighted was Justinian with the success of the North African campaign that he decided to reward Belisarius with a formal triumph. “It will be fitting,” he declared to Theodora. “These have been great and noteworthy victories.”

“I don’t think anyone has been awarded a triumph since Titus and Trajan,” said Narses. “It will be a spectacle such as the people of this city have never seen.”

Theodora, who was always aware of the power of grand spectacles, thought that it would be a potent demonstration of the Emperor’s might and glory. She invited Antonina to join the royal party in the Kathisma. The triumphal procession did not include wives, unless they were prisoners, in which case they would walk behind the victorious chariots in chains. The participants would line up at the house of Belisarius, which was close to the Golden Gate in the Walls of Theodosius. They would wind their way through the city, along the Mesê, and finally enter the Hippodrome to salute the Emperor.

They would pass through the great squares: the Square of Arcadius, the Ox Market, the Square of Theodosius and the Square of Constantine, where the city militia were drawn up on parade and would then fall in. This last stopping point was particularly apt, thought Theodora, since it was the public space where, during the riots, the usurper Hypatius had been crowned with a borrowed chain as diadem. It had suffered arson and the violent destruction of buildings and statues. Now restored, it would be ceremoniously included in a communal act of obeisance to the true emperor.

It was a day of beneficent sunshine, a day of flowers and flags and jubilant festivity. Justinian and Theodora were resplendent in their purple robes, sparkling diadems and scarlet boots. Juliana and Zeno were there, but the small Anastasius had been left with his nurse. Theodora had wanted her grandson to be present, but his mother thought he would get tired and restless. Juliana in her cream silk tunic, her black curls bound in pearls, looked properly regal, thought Theodora. Sadly, not even the richest patrician robes could make her son-in-law resemble anything other than a caparisoned horse.

From her seat in the Kathisma, Theodora could see the gate through which the parade would enter. The ranks of spectators were predominantly blue on the one side and green on the other, but this would not be a day for chariot races, nor for competition. It was a celebration in which everyone could join and rejoice together. Green and blue flags fluttered in the light breeze.

“Who rides with Belisarius in his carriage?” Theodora asked. “His other generals?”

“Belisarius will not ride,” said Narses. “He told me he would walk, side by side with Gelimer. And he will not be preceded by trumpeters, as the ancient custom was. The procession will be led by priests and bishops.”

Theodora thought, crossly, that Belisarius would always find some way to be different and therefore memorable.

“He is a remarkably humble man,” said Antonina, “for one so exceptionally able.”

A wave of cheering could now be heard swelling in the distance.

“Ah! Here they come,” said Zeno, leaning forward expectantly.

Through the gates walked a group of priests led by the Patriarch of Constantinople; they were a mass of bright colours in their vestments, swinging censers and chanting a solemn Te Deum. The spectators settled down respectfully, but then the victorious general came into sight, walking shoulder to shoulder with the vanquished Vandal king. The huge circus erupted as the crowd roared their approval.

“Good heavens,” said Narses, “Gelimer is not only unchained, he’s wearing the purple!”

Indeed, he was wearing a robe of richly purple brocade. Belisarius looked splendid in his uniform, with a laurel wreath on his yellow hair.

Theodora went cold with foreboding. What was this? Could Belisarius and Gelimer be staging some kind of rebellion? Had they made a devilish deal? She glanced at Justinian, who watched the parade silently and intently, his expression hard to read.

Narses had unobtrusively drawn his sword.