‘More powerful?’
‘When I look at the empire, Magister, I see many things that I would be desirous of changing. So the power to effect such would be satisfying, yes.’
During the conference Flavius made no mention of the Goth offer. Instead he and his fellow leaders discussed how Ravenna might be taken by assault, though no one thought it to be easy. The city had been chosen as the capital by the Emperor Honorius for several reasons, not least that being on the Adriatic favoured communication with Constantinople and made imperial rule less arduous.
Yet the main motivation, in a time of barbarian incursions into the north of Italy, was its natural defensibility. Ravenna was surrounded by marshes, which made it impossible to truly invest. The city, with such watery barriers had no need of high walls and it would even now be impossible to overcome if the Goths had enjoyed access to the sea, presently denied to them by a Byzantine fleet.
Flavius found it difficult to concentrate as he listened to the various proposals, some of them sound in purpose if difficult in conclusion, as well as one or two bordering on a mad desire for personal glory. The words he had exchanged with Procopius as well as the points made by his secretary rattled around in his head, made troubling by the fact that much of what had been said was nothing but the plain truth.
Those same envoys would come again tonight and he had to provide them with an answer, but he resolved to do more; to draw out from them what other concerns they had so they could be dealt with. He brought the conference to a conclusion by suggesting that if no word came from Witigis by the following day, a message should be sent inviting him to surrender.
‘And in case you think it is only that, surrender will mean the impoverishment of the nobles as well as the citizens of Ravenna.’
That satisfied the most gory-minded of his commanders; blood they loved to spill but what might accrue to their coffers was just as important, even if it had to be paraded through the streets of Constantinople to be gawped at by the mob. As had happened with the treasure of the Vandals, a hoard plundered from the whole of Roman Europe over two centuries, the Emperor was obliged, once the crowd had been afforded their glimpse of such fabulous wealth, to share the spoils of war with those who fought and won his battles.
The prospect of the forthcoming meeting was not aided by the information that Antonina was planning one of her entertainments and her refusal to put it off. She had invited dozens of officers, many of them young and junior, as well as some of the more refined women who had become camp followers: Roman and Goth war widows, often from places taken by Flavius Belisarius and his armies, who traded their bodies for food, comfort and, it had to be admitted, sometimes for love.
‘You are a dullard,’ was her response when Flavius declined to attend, even for a short while.
‘You dazzle enough for both of us,’ was the diplomatic reply as his wife flounced out in a huff.
The sounds of that entertainment lay in the background as Procopius led the trio of Goth nobles into his private chamber once more, this a more bustling entrance than hitherto. The first words imparted told Flavius that Witigis was in full agreement to the proposal and would relinquish his power in favour of his enemy as long as certain conditions were met.
Flavius allowed them to be stated, the primary condition germane as to whether he accepted the kingship or not and that related to their treasury. How could he take that from them when it would be partly his own? Likewise, if he left the service of Justinian he would be a fool indeed to surrender to the Emperor any of the men he might need to hold on to his claim.
That stated, the time had come for an answer to the most important question of all. Would he agree to become King of the Goths? The eyes of four men were upon him, unblinking, and Flavius had the impression he was the only person breathing.
‘I am minded to accept, but not here and not in this room. Such a commitment can only be made when Witigis is present and able to formally announce, before his nobles, that he is standing aside. It is to that same body I must make my pledges.’
‘On the treasure and us and our fellow nobles retaining our freedom?’
‘Those would naturally be granted at the same time.’
For a man who could address a whole army, that last remark was so softly pronounced as to risk the need for repetition. The faces of the Goths, once their Latin speaker had repeated them, relaxed enough to allow them to nod, while Procopius could not stop the slight smile which adorned his face.
‘I bid you return to Ravenna and convey this to those to whom you must report. I must myself go to join my wife who is, as you can no doubt hear, entertaining our guests. It would be impolitic to stay away too long and perhaps set minds thinking when we still have a need for concealment.’
The envoys seemed to understand and accept this; they had limited knowledge of his private life. It was Procopius who had the strange expression, no longer smiling, he was looking at his master with troubled curiosity.
‘A word, Magister, after I have seen these men safely out of our lines?’
‘In the morning, Procopius, unless you would care to join Antonina and I.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The time had come to send away those of his generals who may cause him trouble. Flavius despatched John Vitalianus and several of the commanders who had come with Narses, their task to take over with their contingents various Goth fortresses dotted over northern Italy. His reasons being sound this was readily accepted; such a move would nullify the risk of any attempt to relieve Ravenna as well as ease what might become a drain on supplies.
Not stated by either party was the motive for the way his orders were eagerly welcomed. With the Goths virtually beaten, these men would be free to plunder at will and in a polity that would willingly give up its possessions to avoid being ravaged. To the likes of John Vitalianus, Ravenna, though a wealthier prize, might turn into a siege of months, if not years. Better a bird in the hand when it came to full coffers.
If moving problem generals proved easy to accomplish, there was as yet many a dilemma to solve, not least the probing curiosity of Procopius. To avoid his secretary was impossible; they worked in close harmony on a daily basis on such matters as feeding the army, the state of the men’s health and corresponding with the various other commands and functionaries all over the Italian peninsula and Illyria, as well as communicating with Constantinople.
If Procopius probed to little avail that was as nothing to Antonina, who had a nose that could smell conspiracy a league away. In addition to her curiosity she added another problem to the life of her husband, for Flavius had sent Photius back to the capital once more. His wife had then sent for Theodosius, a man too fearful of Antonina’s natural son and possible violence to ever be in the same place.
Her husband was too preoccupied to give it the attention it deserved; having challenged Antonina in Sicily, following on from the revelations made by her maid, and having received an outright denial of any impropriety, he had to accept that even with what he had been told by Photius he had no actual proof that she had transgressed.
He had a plan to implement and for once it was held within himself, not even discussed with Procopius, not yet confided to his generals and certainly kept well secret from his wife. He had supplies moved closer to Ravenna, so that the besieged city could be fed, and then called a conference to gain support for his aims.
‘Though I will not yet refer to the conditions under which this has been made, the Goths have sent envoys offering to surrender their capital and bring an end to the war in Italy.’
That set them talking, as each mind calculated what this would mean to them; war brought rewards, but so did peace. Flavius let it rumble on until it began to naturally diminish, eyes turning from neighbourly exchanges regarding what offices might fall to the successful and back onto the man who would control them.