‘And what did he think he was going to get from me?’
‘Military support, of course. You would pledge the loyalty of the armies in Asia Minor and appeal to the citizens in the Hippodrome to proclaim him. Against both of you Justinian would be lucky to escape with his life, which was not something the Cappadocian was prepared to extend to Theodora.’
‘Proclaim him from the imperial box.’
‘Where else?’
‘For which I would have to have been in the city.’
‘Are you being deliberately dense, Flavius? It was never intended that you should act, only that the Cappadocian would reveal himself. What I would have given to see his face when Narses had the palace guards arrest him.’
‘For being drawn into a conspiracy that he had no part in starting.’
‘You sound as though you feel sorry for the fat old goat. He was conspiring, all right, all he needed was a bit of a push to act and show his hand.’ Her face changed, to take on a sly look. ‘He was not beyond hinting, by the way, that any bargain could be sealed on my body.’
‘An offer I am sure you encouraged him to think likely.’
Suppressed it might be, but there was no doubting the fury in Flavius’s voice.
‘Why are you so angry? You hated the man.’
‘Because, Antonina, I recall our previous conversation about John, whom you were encouraging me to challenge and then to kill. If you acted against him it was to please Theodora, so I have to suspect that your attempts to embroil me in murder were on her behalf as well.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘Is it, Antonina?’ Flavius had to steel himself then to say what came next, to get out into the open what still disturbed him in the dead of night. ‘Is it nonsense that Theodosius is nothing to you but a platonic friend?’
‘I have told you-’
‘You have lied, just as you lied with such ease to the Cappadocian, and I have been as much a fool as John. Theodosius is such a platonic friend, I am told he fled to Ephesus to avoid your attention to him, so embarrassing had it become-’
‘A lie,’ she spat, ‘and one no doubt related to you by that ingrate son of mine.’
‘No, Antonina,’ came the weary response. ‘It is the truth and one of which I am sick. You have no idea of how much I wanted to believe you were being truthful, and I would guess no notion of how much of a fool I feel at this moment.’
‘Flavius,’ she protested, in a way that indicated this was no great matter and would soon be solved.
The shout was so startling and loud, echoing off the stone walls, that she physically recoiled. ‘Solomon!’ His domesticus, in the company of several armed men rushed into the chamber, to be given orders in a near whisper. ‘Take the Lady Antonina and confine her to some part of the fortress, I need not know where.’
‘Husband,’ she squealed, but to no avail; all that lay before her was a face made of stone.
‘Do not speak, for if you do you will keep lying, and I tell you, that so troubles me I know not what I would do, for I am not immune to rage. Best you are out of my sight and for some of the time out of my mind. Be satisfied that I cannot do that which would be recommended to me by one who has known that which I have refused to accept.’
‘Photius! You choose to believe him in place of your own wife?’
‘Wife? You were once that but as of now, you are not. I should take you down to the cistern, Antonina, and drown you. But I cannot, so I grant you life but know that is all you will ever have from me in future.’
‘I am innocent.’
‘Solomon, take her out of my sight.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
The fact that Flavius Belisarius had imprisoned his wife could not stay secret for long and in no time messages were flying back to Constantinople with the news. There was no need to tell Theodora of the cause, she knew only too well, and nor was it possible to stop her putting pressure on her husband to recall a general who was, after all, not engaged in fighting, it being winter.
Those who served Flavius knew their man well, none more so than Solomon, who ensured that if Antonina was confined it was not in the dungeons but in a set of apartments which, if not as regal as those from which she had been removed, were quite comfortable. Not that such consideration was acknowledged, she being loud in her complaint of being treated worse than a heretic beggar.
Her husband did not enquire after her well-being and there was a tacit acceptance by those close to him that it was not a subject to be alluded to in even the most oblique way. Not that Flavius was unaware of the stares he attracted as people sought to discern the effect such a bold step was having on their leader. Others, less intimate, looked at him differently, some sneering at the cause of the dispute, that was until they caught his eye.
In trying to appear unruffled and to carry on with the tasks that occupied him, ensuring the sick were cared for, sending away contingents to winter in less diseased locations on the Mediterranean shore, purchasing and storing supplies for the coming year, Flavius was yet aware of those surreptitious glances. The realisation of familiarity was what made him uncomfortable; he now grasped that many of the silent exchanges in the imperial palace had been of a similar type.
It should not have bothered him but it did, the palace, indeed the whole of Constantinople being a hotbed of debauchery, easily recalled from his own forays into the dock area with the yet to become emperor, Justinian, and he had himself been far from chaste, indeed that was where he had first come across Antonina, though they had not shared any intimacy until Theodora, finally wedded to the heir, brought her friend into the imperial wing.
The vows he took when marrying had put a stop on any such excursions, for to Flavius they were sacrosanct. How wounding was it that the same did not apply to his wife and how could the son they had adopted not see that his behaviour was an outrage against God? Was Photius right when he insisted that such sins were enough to justify killing them both? If he was, it could not, for the sake of his soul, fall to him to be the executioner.
‘The command is plain, Magister. You are to return to Constantinople at once and in the company of your wife.’
The imperial messenger was coated in the dust of travel and no great imagination was required to calculate the time it had taken for the imprisonment of Antonina to reach the ears of Theodora and for her to react. The information must have flown to the capital, and judging by the state of the man before him, the order had come back with the kind of haste normally afforded to news of a barbarian incursion. There was no choice but to obey, with one caveat imparted to Solomon.
‘The Lady Antonina and I will travel separately. She is to be brought to our villa south of Galatea and she will enter the capital from there while we will proceed directly. Also send word to Photius that he too is to make his way to Constantinople.’
Solomon was good at hiding reactions but even he could not keep the wonder from his face, a look to which Flavius responded. ‘What could be more damning than the word of her own natural son?’
‘You feel you require that, Magister?’
‘Solomon, I have no idea what I will require. All I do know is that within the imperial palace my wife holds more sway in certain quarters than I do.’
‘The Emperor-’
‘May act, but too many times I have known him sit on his hands when it means confronting Theodora.’
The journey was made in no great haste, it not being a confrontation to which Flavius was looking forward. He imagined that Antonina, in her separate caravan, would be wild with frustration and there was some satisfaction that he could inflict such an emotion upon her, but it was nevertheless an uncomfortable two and a half weeks in which he was left to contemplate what he might face. Not death, he had no fear of such an outcome, but disgrace, even if it was manufactured, was another matter.