‘You think I would go to Constantinople?’ Witigis sneered. ‘Do you see me of so little account that I must go in person to beg?’
‘If you choose to go or to send envoys is none of my concern. All I know is that the journey and return will take time and that is without any idea of how long any discussions will last. I am aware that we are both at a stand. You will never retake Rome with the forces you have and I lack the means to drive you away.’
The pause was long before Witigis acknowledged that with a sharp nod; he knew it to be the case but there was no pleasure in admitting it.
‘So we need to create time, say three months, when such a journey can be undertaken and our differences can perhaps be resolved at a higher level.’
The locked eyes were more revealing than the words; neither man believed Justinian would agree to surrender anything his general had so far recovered, but Witigis might have something to gain just by talking, perhaps the right to peacefully retain what he still held.
‘A three-month truce!’
‘Starting at dawn tomorrow,’ Flavius responded.
The delay in replying was purely for pride and appearance to convince those who had accompanied him of his solemn consideration; really there was no choice, but Witigis made great play of adopting a pensive pose, his eyes lowered and his hand on his firm, square chin.
‘No. I need time to consider. What I will agree to is a cessation of hostilities until I have consulted with my nobles.’
‘Agreed.’
CHAPTER TEN
Witigis, having delayed for the sake of his pride and his standing, finally agreed the truce, giving Flavius good reason to believe the initiative had begun to swing in his favour, something of which he was determined to take advantage. The Byzantine fleet had arrived, escorting to Antium a large convoy of merchant ships, and these were unloaded and their cargoes transported to Rome immediately, relieving the dearth of supply and raising the morale of soldiers and civilians alike.
Within days his reinforcements arrived, the cavalry elements immediately sent to take over certain strategic places that the Goths were obliged to abandon as being too isolated to hold, like the fortress of Portus they had constructed as a lock on Roman provisioning. The presence of that strong fleet and the men that could be deployed from the ships, added to those fresh troops, made continued occupation too risky.
Likewise they had to give up Albanum, which commanded one of the other major supply routes into the capital. The hill city was soon occupied and a camp set up, much to the anger of the Goths, but when the men Witigis had deputed to negotiate with the Byzantines complained, Procopius, handed the day-to-day negotiations, was emollient but firm.
‘Flavius Belisarius has issued very strict instructions to all of his men taking over positions previously held by you. They are merely in place to occupy while the truce is in place and are to remain within their encampments and are strictly barred from undertaking any offensive actions unless driven to do so for the purposes of defence.’
Witigis might not like it, but such actions were things he had to accept. Less pleasing to the man making these manoeuvres was the presence of his wife, not least in the way her being in their shared villa altered his life. Not for Antonina quiet solitude and time to ponder on responsibilities and the means of thwarting the Goths; she sought company and now his home was often full of his off-duty officers eating, drinking, carousing and flattering a woman, now long past her prime, who soaked up their insincerities without a trace of modesty.
It was telling who did not attend, either through lack of an invitation or a personal disinclination to accept. Constantinus was an exemplar of that, as were those officers who, like him, came from the patrician class, Antonia’s guests being of a less refined hue. Never happy at such gatherings Flavius could at least get away to carry out his nightly rounds. Truce or no truce they were still at war and such fripperies seemed inappropriate.
As had been predicted by Pope Vigilius, his dethroned predecessor Silverius arrived and was handed over, not before he had been obliged to endure a tirade from Antonina in which it was implied that the serene old man seemed to have been responsible for everything since Noah’s flood. Finally he was released into the hands of those who would interrogate him with a few kinder words from her husband.
‘The charge against me, Flavius Belisarius, is false. I did not betray you.’
The response masked a degree of embarrassment; there had been doubt, both at the time and since, that Silverius was involved. ‘I hope and pray that is true.’
‘Then I ask that you examine me, given you have the right.’
‘I cannot, I have given Vigilius my word.’
Which was as good a way of telling the old silver-haired man that he had no intention of getting embroiled in what was essentially a dispute on dogma. After a short silence, Silverius produced a slight nod.
‘I wonder, is God easier to serve than a mere mortal clad in purple?’
Further evidence of the loss of Goth power came with an embassy from Milan, led by their bishop, offering to surrender the city and the whole of Liguria if Flavius would provide the men to hold it. While agreeing to the request, he also sensed it might be a step too far. Goad he might, but he did not want to be the one who broke the truce, so he kept the envoys from Milan talking without acting on that which they desired.
The notion of keeping secret the arrival and presence of such envoys was impossible. Reports began to come in of certain movements by the Goths that raised the danger that they might be preparing to react. The first indication was along one of the broken aqueducts, where the men on guard reported they had seen torches. Flavius and Photius went out personally to investigate, to find the burnt remnants by the wall blocking the aqueduct.
‘Naples,’ Photius remarked. ‘He must have heard of it.’
Flavius ordered more patrols and greater vigilance, as well as extra pickets on all the broken aqueducts: if Witigis was probing for weaknesses it could only be for one purpose, to seek to take Rome by some trick, but in that he was wrong. Ennes, alert to the possibilities of a sudden attack and in command at the Porta Piciana, observed the Goths beginning to deploy in battle formation right in front of his gates.
He sent word to Flavius but did not wait for a response, instead exiting at the head of his cavalry to break up the assault before it could be got into motion. The Goths, caught while the ranks were still disordered, broke and fled but not before they suffered many losses. Flavius had Procopius insist the truce was broken; not so, responded the Goth envoys, the troops Ennes had destroyed had not been assembled to press home an attack, but were merely drilling.
‘So what did you say to that, Husband?’
‘Maintaining the truce suits me more than Witigis.’
‘He might see it as cowardice.’
Looking at his wife, Flavius wondered if he still had any residual regard for her, aware that he could not answer in either a positive or a negative sense. He was tied to Antonina by the insoluble bonds of matrimony, added to which she was the mother of his daughter, now being cared for in Constantinople under the watchful care of Theodora. That put the Empress into the marital equation: how would she react if her friend was maltreated or abandoned?
There were, too, appearances to maintain; it might be the case, as Procopius had more than once hinted, that her indiscretions were no secret amongst his senior officers, but the chatter of such men he discounted. The bulk of his force consisted of middle ranks and common soldiers who, if they cared to look, must see their general confident, even in his domestic life.