‘I know you, Flavius,’ Bouzes called, again with an angry face and so fired by passion as to eschew his title in place of familiarity. ‘You will spare the sorceress.’
‘Again, there is no need to state the obvious.’
He was trying to tell them another palpable fact: that if Justinian did recover what had been discussed in this tent would not be seen in a kindly light, which is why he spent the whole day writing and rewriting his despatch until he was sure it would do as required. It was from him to the palace and under his seal and he gave it to the man charged to carry it personally.
The messengers would have passed each other, perhaps they had even spent the same night in one of the imperial posthouses along the route. Yet they would not have exchanged notice of what they carried, that being a stricture religiously observed. The fellow that entered the portals of Edessa brought what to Flavius was good news.
Justinian had survived the worst of his affliction and was now on the way to recovery. Even in his wildest flights of fancy he could not have imagined how different was the response to the communication to which he had appended his seal. The Emperor was still too ill to transact business of any kind; the despatch went to Theodora and, as Flavius had pointed out, she was no fool, added to which she had lost nothing.
Narses arrived within two weeks, his instructions to both Bouzes and Flavius were abrupt: they were to return to Constantinople without delay and explain to the imperial estate the meaning of their presumption. The word ‘estate’ told both men that if they were to be examined it would not be by an advocate appointed by Justinian but by his furious consort.
That she would know of the meetings held in the Palace of Edessa was obvious and no doubt, too, she would be aware of what had been discussed down to the very words used. If she did not have spies with the army, highly likely given her previous behaviour, then there were enough people writing to their relatives who would have picked up information while the matter lay in doubt to give her chapter and verse.
‘You will go back under individual escort,’ Narses pronounced with harsh glee, ‘so there will be no chance to collude and concoct some tale to save your skins.’
‘You are so sure they require saving, Narses?’
‘Magister?’ asked Bouzes, his red face for once pallid.
Flavius knew for what he was asking. Bouzes wanted him to arrest Narses then pronounce a rebellion, something he could not even contemplate. In declining he was condemning himself and Bouzes to an uncertain fate. How could he convey by a mere look that what Bouzes was asking for was impossible, and not just for him?
The army might well have acclaimed him and backed his cause with Justinian dead but it would not do the same if he still lived. There was a huge difference between a just act to prevent an outrage and outright rebellion, and he would never ask for such a pledge.
To do so would turn the whole empire against them and initiate the civil war he had feared if Theodora had acted precipitously. Men who might have stood aside and allowed his candidacy to proceed would not be so inclined if he rebelled. Like Vitalian, the insurrectionist general he had first followed as a youth, he might find himself outside the mighty walls of Constantinople with the entire establishment of the empire, military and civilian, ranged against him. Others might claim a citizenry willing to offer support; they did not count, and anyway only a fool would place reliance on such a fickle entity.
‘It is an imperial command, Bouzes, and one we are bound to obey.’
The look Narses gave him then was one that chilled his blood.
‘There were those who said I was taking a risk coming here as I have. I was able to tell them, Flavius Belisarius, that I know you too well to be fearful of you. You lack the stomach for hazard.’
‘Perhaps when they make you consul you can pronounce that from the oration platform.’ That dig struck home; no eunuch had ever been afforded that honorary rank and he doubted any one of their number ever would. ‘And then there is the other pity, Narses: you will be unable to tell your children and grandchildren what a genius you are.’
‘I look forward to you having to eat those words.’
‘Do so. Now, if you will excuse me I must request that my domesticus make arrangements for us to travel.’
As he passed Bouzes, Flavius spoke softly. ‘We did nothing of which we can be ashamed.’
The growl he got back was louder. ‘In your mind perhaps, Flavius, but you will not be the one judging them.’
Narses must have made the necessary arrangements on the way; in the grounds of each imperial mansio, residences specifically set aside for travelling high officials, a separate tent had been erected into which each general was put, only Narses being accommodated in the building.
Some indication of the depth of what awaited him came to Flavius when, at one stop, he found his old comrade Martinus, passing in the other direction to take over his vacated command. He had previously been recalled when the magister militum per Orientem arrived in Dara to resume his rightful place.
Despite the objections of the escorting officers Martinus insisted on talking to Flavius, not least to get an appreciation of what he might face on the border, reassured when he was told that the very sickness that had brought on this present impasse would give him time to organise his defences, given the Sassanids were equally troubled by it.
Naturally talk turned to what Flavius and his comrade might face. Justinian, according to Martinus, was as weak as a mewling infant and surrounded by physicians who were adamant that exertions of any kind would kill him, this reinforced by his wife’s insistence that he take care. In short, Theodora and those who formed her partisans were in control.
‘Bouzes is seen as the instigator. Justus will escape with nothing more than an admonishment, for blood will save him. You? Theodora is reputed to be incandescent with rage against your name and you will readily appreciate the number of voices whispering in her ear to add to her anger.’
‘Does anyone know how hard I have tried not to make enemies?’
‘No one else but you would think it possible, Flavius. I can only imagine the bile my appointment to replace you has engendered.’
‘I must ask you, Martinus, if matters had turned out otherwise what-?’
Flavius stopped, but he did not have to finish the sentence. Martinus smiled in a way that implied that to ask was plain foolish.
‘I might have been obliged on meeting to prostrate myself.’
‘A stupid and demeaning Persian habit.’
‘One Theodora seeks for Justinian.’
‘Thank God he resists.’
‘It will come in time, perhaps not ours but in future. We adopt too many customs from our eastern neighbours.’
‘While there are always some willing to grovel.’
The smile was still there. ‘Not you, Flavius.’
‘No doubt Theodora cannot wait to test that assertion.’
‘Would you have put yourself forward if Justinian had expired?’
‘According to my officers I had no choice.’
‘Then it might please you to know that when news of his illness became known, yours was the name on everyone’s lips from the corridors of the palace to the marketplace.’
‘With obvious exceptions.’
‘Do you fear Theodora?’
‘I would be a fool not to.’
‘And she, my friend, would be a fool not to be in dread of you. She knows she is hated in the city as much as you are loved.’
Martinus actually laughed when, even under sun-darkened skin, he saw Flavius blush.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Bouzes went straight to the dungeons accused of treason but Flavius was allowed to reside in his own villa while a commission was prepared to examine him for his alleged transgressions. Nor was he confined, and that allowed him to walk the corridors of the imperial palace where he tried to gauge the mood of those with whom he came into contact, not that such a thing was simple; he was under a cloud and no one wanted to be seen deep in conversation – exchanges were brief, hopes that all would be well for him whispered, the speed at which the interlocutor hurried off common.