‘The border is too long and the opportunities for an incursion too spread for any one man to counter. I suggest that I have overall control based on Dara and that there should be two junior generals who will be free to act independently to the north.’
‘You have men you prefer?’ Justinian asked.
‘Bouzes is already in place and I would send Valerian to take command in Armenia.’
‘Excellency,’ protested Narses, this being no private meeting; he had no need to elaborate on that single word of protest.
‘No, Narses, I need you here in Constantinople.’
The eunuch had no idea that this had been a subject discussed between Flavius and Justinian when they were alone, as had the suggestion that feeding money to Khusrow was indulging an appetite for Byzantine gold that would never be satisfied. Flavius wanted to employ another plan and had been given at least a nod to proceed, and the last thing needed was that bugbear of split command.
Narses would not be the only soldier seeking opportunities in the field and if there were good candidates he was too senior a figure to be one. Flavius had insisted on sole authority once more, and when his demand caused a regal frown he had driven home his point by reminding his emperor that his successes had all been when he had enjoyed sole command. That publically conceded he moved on to more troubling matters.
‘Now I must ask that John fulfil those commitments he has made to ensure that the army in the east can operate effectively.’
‘Has he not done so?’
Justinian asked this with an air of faux innocence as the substantial bulk of the Cappadocian swelled at the perceived slight on his not properly carrying out his duties. Flavius had been badgering his emperor for weeks to intervene and get the man to release supplies that he knew were already in warehouses on the city’s docks, there to be pilfered and sold off by the men supposed to be guarding them.
Such prevarication provided many with a reason to act in a sympathetic manner and for all his attempts to avoid intrigue, Flavius could not wholly avoid being embroiled in conversations with the higher functionaries of empire as he went about his daily business in the palace or attended the near endless gatherings that Antonina adored and he more often found trying.
Always attended by the imperial couple, these assemblies tended to stiffness until they retired, when those who served them could relax and get back to their intrigues and jockeying. Then there were the daily Masses, held in what Justinian was sure to be his most proud achievement as emperor and one cast in stone that would stand as his legacy.
The century-old wooden Church of St Sophia, on the eastern edge of the imperial palace, had suffered in the Nika riots, having been set alight by the insurgents and burnt to the ground. To replace it Justinian had employed not only the greatest scientific minds of the age, he had scoured the empire for the materials and artefacts to build and furnish the paramount holy church in Christendom, creating a dome so wide and high that his more superstitious subjects feared to enter lest it collapse on their heads.
It was instructive to be within the confines of St Sophia in his company, he being like a child with a favourite toy. Deeply religious – many said Justinian was such a sinner he needed to be in order to procure forgiveness from God – it revealed a side to the Emperor that Flavius knew from past association but few others experienced.
It seemed as if within its walls, with its stained windows and great columns, he was at some kind of peace, the tension that was these days a constant normality evaporating as he took pleasure in describing the details of the design and the problems he and his advisors had overcome in construction.
There were times, at social gatherings and even following on from the Masses that Flavius enjoyed; meeting and reminiscing with men with whom he had happily campaigned, while some of the long-serving imperial courtiers were people of a wit he found difficult to match, not that he tried to.
Yet too often what began as an engaging conversation strayed into areas of which he was determined to stay clear. Gentle enquiries as to his opinion of Justinian’s abilities or his military strategy; the odd aside, usually humorously delivered, that was yet a sly dig at Theodora and either her pretensions or her perceived proclivities. Each he was sure, were hooks designed to draw out from him a point of view that would then lead to an invitation to greater intimacy and possible collusion.
Even when he had been resident in the palace, and he had been as a young Excubitor officer, Flavius had never managed to discern the currents and groupings that to Justinian appeared as an open book. The Emperor, both in power and prior to assuming his position, always seemed to know who was allied to whom in what was an ever-shifting set of temporary coalitions, rarely, it had to be said, directly aimed at the throne, more often the goal being a desire for support into a more lucrative office.
It was therefore with some joy that he was able to announce his departure for Dara. The campaigning season was nearly upon him and he required time to set in train the various stratagems he hoped would frustrate the designs of an enemy already on the move.
He spent his last night, attended upon by Solomon, close to the capital at the villa he had bought as a home for himself and Antonina not long after their marriage. Overlooking the Bosphorus it was a place of sad reflection, since he and his wife had never spent a single night together under its roof.
Dawn found Photius at the gate at the head of his personal bodyguards, as well as a strong body of Goth mercenaries who had come east to fight with a man they admired and one who might bring them much plunder. In such company it was possible to put aside the ghosts of what might have been and look ahead to the only situation in which Flavius knew himself to be contented.
Command of an army left little room for personal introspection.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
On his way to take over command, picking up mercenary contingents en route, Flavius found the troops he would be required to lead into battle to be demoralised, lacking in equipment and patently frightened of facing an enemy who always outnumbered them and seemed, under Khusrow’s military reforms, to be invincible.
Many a commander would have despaired at this but Flavius had been in such a situation before and was therefore untroubled, eschewing modesty to remind them the army was now led by the Victor of Dara. That alone lifted their spirits and their general knew that fully supplied with weapons, given proper training and under good officers, even the most fearful body could be brought to the peak of fighting ability and these were the matters he set out to address.
His spies reported back that Khusrow was not bent on a second incursion into central Mesopotamia. He had gone north to fight the Huns, a tribe forever raiding his borderlands and that presented Flavius with a golden opportunity: he had time to exercise his men, and that complete he could invade Sassanid territory with no fear of meeting the main enemy force.
At a gathering of his officers only one pair demurred at this plan, the two imperial duces of Phoenice Libanensis, who ruled jointly from Damascus and Palmyra. In that region they faced the pagan Lahkmids, long-time allies of the Sassanids. If they denuded their territories of troops to join Flavius it would leave them exposed to a Lahkmid invasion.
It was Arethas, the leader of the Ghassanids, neighbours and co-religionists to the Lahkmids, albeit less observant of ritual, who pointed out that at this time of year committed pagans were forbidden to go to war and would be so constrained for two whole months, during which they must worship their gods. Flavius was then able to promise the duces that he would release them within sixty days so they could return to their fiefs and defend them.