An envoy was despatched to negotiate with promises that surrender would mean life and a degree of liberty for the citizens, or death for all if they forced a continued assault. The fighting men were mercenaries and would be sent back to Constantinople, with a recommendation from Flavius that Justinian employ them far away in Italy. The terms were accepted and Flavius marched in as the one-time defenders, and the Byzantine captives, marched west under escort.
Waiting for news of his raid across the Tigris, the army was troubled by a serious outbreak of plague in the ranks, brought on by contact with the inhabitants of Sisauranon. Many were dying, which had him move his men to a series of camps out of the newly captured city, yet reconnaissance parties sent east brought back no news of Arethas or the Glutton, this while their commander had a problem in that time was running out: the sixty days he had promised to the duces of Phoenice Libanensis was nearly up and that would severely cut a force already short on effectives due to disease, so it was time for another conference.
‘I cannot ask the contingents from Damascus and Palmyra to remain and you can all see how our effectives are diminished by sickness. Men are dying every day and our only hope is to get away from here so that at least some may recover their health in more benign locations.’
As always he looked around the assembled officers to seek to discern if there was disagreement, not that he anticipated any. They would have to give up Sisauranon but that was a necessary price to pay because it could not be held; any garrison left behind would be beyond succour should the Sassanids seek to retake it, and besides, it would act as a magnet for the Byzantine garrison at Dara, perhaps drawing them into a fight on terms chosen by the Sassanids.
‘We have the city treasury and we will destroy the walls prior to departure, so rendering it useless to Khusrow.’ The option to advance was posed as a rhetorical question and one he answered himself. ‘We have no idea as to what lies across the Tigris, and given our numbers it is my opinion it would be a risky venture to probe further into Persia without knowing it to be clear of our enemies.’
A murmur of agreement followed the summation. ‘So, I will send messages to our forward elements that I intend to withdraw and that they should do likewise. We will send the sick ahead to the coast and form up to their rear to protect them. Best to think of fighting another day than to risk being caught away from our own lands when we are weakened.’
John the Glutton and Trajan caught up with Flavius before he reached Dara, not hard given he was retiring at a snail’s pace so as not to tire his soldiers, while also seeking to deceive the enemy in Nisibis and leave them confused as to his intentions. The number of laden carts they returned with testified to the success of their mission, carrying enough booty to gladden the hearts of the most avaricious of plunderers, spoils that would be distributed throughout the army.
‘Arethas?’
‘He parted company from us when we decided to retire,’ John responded. ‘Which was forced upon us even before we received your orders.’
A questioning look demanded he continue. ‘Arethas sent hunting parties out to bring in food and also to warn against any enemy approaching from the east, which was just as well. They spotted a strong force of Persians that massively outnumbered us, so flight was our only option. With so much plunder, which might slow us down, Arethas suggested we divide it before retiring-’
‘To which you agreed?’ Flavius asked.
‘Yes. He undertook to bring his half back directly and we would bring the rest by a different route.’
‘Photius, send out scouts to the east to look for Arethas.’
‘I thought he would get here ahead of us,’ said Trajan, the look on his face one of confusion. ‘He did ask us to delay a day and give him a head start.’
‘Well, let us hope for all our sakes he is not far off. If he brings in anything like that which you fetched, Khusrow might drop dead from apoplexy.’
Slow as the army moved no sign came of Arethas or any of his Ghassanids. Questioned more, both John and Trajan admitted they had seen no sign themselves of any Persian forces and once back at Dara, and still no sign, the solidus finally dropped.
The cunning Ghassanid leader had taken half of the plunder, but not to share with his Byzantine allies; he would keep it to himself and his people. Word came eventually that he was indeed back in his own territory and so were the spoils. He would stay there too, for to venture out and risk being caught by Flavius would have cost him his head.
News also came about the activities of Khusrow and it proved the spies wrong; the information that he was attacking the Huns turned out to be false. He had instead led his forces into the province of Lazica, which bordered the eastern edge of the Euxine Sea, an important region for that alone, doubly so since it bordered the Caucasus Mountains and the passes that led into Scythia, home to any number of barbarian tribes, most troublingly the numerous and murderous Alans.
The reasons, hard to fathom originally, emerged over time and it all fell to the depredations of those who had been given the rule over Lazica by Justinian, though they did turn out to be clients of John the Cappadocian. By levying excessive taxation, manipulating the courts and the setting up of monopolies of food, oil and wine they had, to enrich themselves, bled Lazica dry.
This so alienated the local tribes that their ruler had sent to Khusrow and offered him suzerainty over their kingdom in place of obeisance to Constantinople. Petra, Justinian’s stronghold in the region, had fallen and the old Greek province of Colchis was now firmly in the hands of the Sassanids.
Flavius was left to lament that the policy of his was the right one, to always treat the indigenes, whoever they were, as if they were your own citizens and never to seek to fleece them for private gain. That said, anger at what had occurred had to be suborned to what was happening now; Khusrow had his victories and would now be marching south, hopefully taking too long about it so that, with winter approaching, he would not have to be faced until the following year.
An equally troubling problem was the presence at Dara of Antonina, newly arrived from Constantinople. Flavius had been told of her intention to travel to Dara outside Sisauranon, with an added plea that her husband should send to Theodosius, skulking according to her in Ephesus, to make his way to Dara also, a plea he ignored and was careful to keep from the ears of Photius since the mere mention of the name sent his stepson into a fury.
As usual she arrived as if there could be nothing amiss, which produced from her husband a degree of bitter respect for her sheer effrontery. Added to that, Antonina felt she had reason to be proud seeing she brought with her news of the downfall of John the Cappadocian, whom she had embroiled in a plot to replace Justinian. Cock-a-hoop about her success, she was unable to understand why, when she had finished relating her adventures, her husband did not equally relish the tale.
She had befriended John’s daughter, flattering a young innocent in order to get to the father. Initially guarded, the Cappadocian had fallen for her blandishments, in which Antonina had invoked the name of Flavius to insist that there was no real enmity between them. She assured him they shared a creeping despair over the way the empire was being run as a dual franchise by a useless emperor and his devious consort, to whom John was a mortal enemy.
‘I told him he was at risk and must act to save himself, also that you regretted turning down the offer the Goths made and would be ready to back him if he chose to overthrow Justinian and Theodora to ensure better rule.’
‘You used my name?’
Antonina cackled then. ‘Such is the old fool’s vanity that he actually believed me.’
‘You said I would support him?’
‘Don’t look so upset. It was only to seduce him into indiscretions. You were never in any danger because of it.’