“Again a shake of the head. ‘Do not tempt me. Those days are gone, and will never come back. All the people you mention merely had to take control of Rome. They did not have to fight against Rome itself. It took Domitian all the resources of the entire empire to fight back the challenges he faced. Do you think a man such as myself could do the same with less than half of one, when the more powerful part is hostile?’
“ ‘I do not understand you. Why do you say that?’
“He looked at me with an ironic smile on his face. ‘You are indeed provincial, young man. You see nothing except your own concerns, only what is right in front of your face. You complain about the encroachments of Visigoths and Burgundians. You come here asking for troops, and are confused and upset when no one provides them, worried that the empire is so paralyzed it cannot even defend itself anymore. Let me tell you a secret. It does not wish to defend itself.’
“ ‘I know there are many demands on the armies. . . .’
“ ‘No,’ he interrupted me. ‘You misunderstand what I am saying. Let me put it differently. The emperor in Constantinople will do whatever he can to ensure that peace does not come to the Western provinces, that the barbarians do win more and more territory, and that all of Gaul falls to barbarian tribes as Britain and Spain have already fallen. This has been their policy for half a century.’
“ ‘That is ridiculous.’
“ ‘Sixty years ago, Rome was sacked. Thirty years ago the Burgundians attacked in Gaul. On both occasions, the barbarians were hurled back and yet on both occasions they were offered huge tracts of land within the empire. It is these lands and peoples which now threaten the rest of Gaul and Italy. They were utterly defeated and could have been expelled, as had happened before. Yet they were settled instead, given land and revenue. Why?’
“ ‘A mistaken policy, hoping they would prove controllable.’
“ ‘You have a lower opinion of imperial wisdom than I have. No. The empire does not make mistakes. Not consistently over half a century, and on a matter like this. It was no mistake. It was deliberate, and successful. The policy was to weaken the Western empire fatally, in order to strengthen the Eastern part dramatically. It has worked well.’
“ ‘You make no sense.’
“ ‘Let me explain again. How many usurpers of the throne, rebellions, pretenders, uprisings, and mutinies have there been in the last century?’
“ ‘I don’t know. More than I can count.’
“ ‘Yes. Some have succeeded, some not, all have been expensive, some hugely so, resulting in years of civil war. Nearly all have come from the West—Constantine himself from Britain, most of the others from the army of the Rhine, Spain, or Gaul. Until the barbarians were settled, and the Western provinces so weakened they could no longer field pretenders. The armies were too weak, the barbarians were more interested in squabbling amongst themselves. How many Visigoths or Burgundians have set their eyes on Constantinople? None at all. And the East has been calm, and prosperous and rich; the imperial crown has passed from one man to the next with no bloodshed—or no more than is usual.
“ ‘And the cost has been merely the dismemberment of troublesome provinces which, in any case, never provided much revenue; it was always gobbled up in Rome long before it got to the Golden Horn. Gaul has cost huge sums of money, and provided little in return except trouble. Much better to fragment it into pieces so small it can harm no one but itself.’
“ ‘You are saying we are abandoned. Rome itself is abandoned?’
“ ‘Look at it from the point of view of, say, a citizen of Antioch, or Alexandria. Older and more glorious than Rome in some cases, richer by far. Why would anyone shed a tear if those upstart Romans, so arrogant, so condescending, suffered a little?’
“He paused and looked at me seriously. ‘All the world will be shocked should Rome ever fall. But preventing the perpetual civil wars was the main priority of all rulers for more than a century. You cannot say this has not been achieved. And what has been lost? What will be lost?’
“ ‘We would be no longer Roman.’
“ ‘Why not?’
“ ‘We could not take office in the state. My father was consul, my uncle magister milites. What would remain for me?’
“ ‘Empty titles, for the most part. Which cost the possessor a fortune in entertainments and charity.’
“ ‘And yet we have an emperor in the West now determined to challenge the threat in Gaul.’
“ ‘Ah, yes. Majorian. And how long do you think he will last?’ ”
Manlius paused and looked around him. All his dinner guests had sat quietly, listening to this tale. When Manlius had left Ricimer’s presence he had gone home, thinking quietly of what he had heard. He had thought of Majorian, the emperor he had accompanied to Rome. And what a difference there was! Majorian was a good man, one striving to do his best, but an ordinary man nonetheless. Ricimer was different, altogether exceptional, the sort you encounter, perhaps, once in a lifetime. Maybe not even then.
“For all that,” he continued, “you know the result. Majorian was killed, his successor was murdered, and his successor was also killed, all probably on Ricimer’s order. Every emperor who wished to raise an army or move against the Goths went to an early grave. Was it because he was bribed by Constantinople, or because he believed any such move was doomed to fail and would dissipate resources on a fruitless task? I do not know.
“He is dead, anyway. But I remember his last words as I left. ‘The empire is not disintegrating because of the barbarians, but because of itself. One part will not fight, the other half cannot. The next time you have a barbarian army on your frontier, remember that well.’
“You want me to go to the emperor, if you can find one, and persuade him to send an army, so we might save Clermont and restore the writ of Rome. Let this story give you some hint of how much success I expect, and why I counsel approaching the Burgundians first. For any success with the emperor will not come swiftly if at all. And, I say again, we have little time.”
He almost stretched out his cup of wine to spill the dregs in libation, but held back at the last moment; it would cause offense, and spoil the effect.
BECAUSE OF MARCEL’S fervent appeal, and because his need, and the need of his country, was so apparent, Julien Barneuve accepted the invitation to become a lecturer, a writer of articles, and an examiner of the works of others. A censor and a propagandist, to those few who disapproved; his own ambivalence was such that he used these terms himself. He was given leave from the university where he worked, and his colleagues happily allowed him to go, pleased at the prospect of someone so eminently sensible taking on such a position. Curiously, he enjoyed the work, and found the sensation of doing something worthwhile a pleasing one. For France needed reassurance, needed to know that chaos was controllable and that government was still firmly in the hands of the French. He needed such reassurance as well. Every time he managed to find an allocation of paper for a journal that might have been forced to close down, he felt a small tinge of pleasure, just as he felt a sense of achievement every time he gave a talk on the radio or at a public lecture in Orange, or Avignon or, once, in Vaison itself. Every time he persuaded an editor to hone a critical point so that it was less offensive, he felt he had been useful. Marcel was under siege from within, but at no stage did those seeking to undermine him have an opportunity to use Julien’s department to level accusations of incompetence or laxity at his administration. Julien became skilled at making little things seem grand, at constructive delay, at semi-mendacious reports that gave the impression of great activity. But he also did his job, telling himself it was necessary to do so. And, as he traveled through the south of France, in the zone unoccupied by Germans, and gave talks to a variety of meetings, he could feel the stirrings of pride in the audience, and knew that, in his small way, he was helping his country heal something of its wounds, keeping the fragile tissue together.