‘Where there was a fight not long ago, a bad one.’ When Flavius declined to take that up, Forbas added, ‘There was a big raid from over the Danube, one we were told the locals might struggle to hold. We were all set to march, to put aside thoughts on this place, when news came that the raiders, who turned out to be Huns, had run away, so we were stood down. The sad bit was the fate of the imperial cohort, who were led to their deaths by some fool who-’
‘Not true!’ Flavius exclaimed, protesting at what could only be a lie concocted by that viper Senuthius, but the news of such a disturbing falsehood opened him up more than he wanted and he could not stop the wetting of his eyes, which did not go unnoticed.
‘How would you know that?’ Forbas asked, in a low voice, and when he got no answer he added, ‘Listen, lad, I am not trying to catch you out and you’re clearly distressed, but I like to know who it is I am dealing with.’
The implication was slow to come, but it was an obvious point Forbas was making. There had to be imperial spies in Vitalian’s host. Was he one of them?
‘Settle for Flavius,’ he hissed, a last try at obscurity.
That got a shake of the head. ‘Is that old friend of yours a servant? If he is, a lad with an armed servant is no ordinary spear, is he? He will have been schooled, perhaps?’
‘I came to join the cause and to fight to see Chalcedony restored. Why does anything else matter?’
‘You’re not like the rest of them out there. Tribune Vigilius said there was something about you that didn’t smell right, something about the way you spoke and I thought he was spouting shit. Now I don’t.’
‘If I wish to keep things to myself-’
‘For what, fear of an angry father coming to fetch you for running from home?’
‘Not that.’
‘You said what we were told of that Hun raid was not true. How can you say that with such certainty?’
‘Because it is a lie.’
‘So tell me.’
‘Only if it goes no further.’
The response to that was a long time coming. ‘You have my word.’
That night he took Apollonia to the same little copse, only this time with impatience. In having his way he was confused by her lack of joy and no enquiry seemed to elicit from her what she found troubling; had they not just repeated what had occurred the previous night? He tried words, but they seemed to have little effect, and he attempted to sulk like a thwarted lover, only to find she went silent.
‘Tomorrow?’ Flavius whispered to her before they were within the hearing of anyone close to where she laid her head for the night.
‘If you wish it,’ she replied.
‘Of course, as much as you.’
She was gone in a flash, with not another word, leaving Flavius with views and opinions that came from his peers his own age, not his parents. Girls were strange creatures, unfathomable.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was rare for a meeting of the imperial council to go on after the setting of the sun. Anastasius being a man of strict habits and receding levels of energy he liked to retire to his private quarters early to eat and drink, take his ease, talk with a very tight circle of chosen friends and then sleep. But the lamps were lit as the Scholae Palatinae guards were changed under the watchful eye of their commander, activities which only held up the discussions for a short time.
If not crowded, the audience chamber held sufficient courtiers, scribes, guards and servants to make it, on a summer night, uncomfortable and over time the multiple lines of advice had fallen into two camps, those both military and civilian who wished to appease Vitalian, in short men who had some sympathy for the right of free worship, up against those who were in outright favour of the emperor’s edict. They thought it best to destroy him and his beliefs while he was within easy reach.
‘Justinus?’
He was obliged to step forward, surprised to be asked to do so. It was obvious Anastasius was about to ask him once more for an opinion, which given the presence of other generals, some of whom were superior in both age and experience and had commanded armies, came as a surprise and as he hesitated his nephew just had time to whisper in his ear.
‘The wily old fox is up to something.’
Justinus bowed his head. ‘Highness?’
‘What would you advise now that this rebel is outside my walls?’
‘Do nothing.’
‘That is hardly an option,’ cried Probus, his least mentally favoured nephew. ‘It insults the dignity of the emperor as well as the state. We should get out from this cowering and drive him away.’
‘Into the sea if we can,’ cried another courtier, an old man with flowing near-white hair, using the kind of flowery arm gestures seen in old drawings of the Republican Senate.
Justinus was tempted to tell the first speaker to stick dignity up his rear; in his experience, standing on that in a war tended to get men killed and armies defeated. With the other he could use that theatrically upraised arm and put it in the same fundament.
‘The possibility was aired that we harass him on the march, but that was not seen to be viable and would, in any case, only have slowed him down.’ He made a point of not looking at the throne; the emperor knew that had been his advice but it had been proffered in private and would stay that way unless Anastasius chose to reveal it. ‘We sit behind walls Vitalian cannot breech, with a port open to any amount of food we need to bring in.’
‘While Vitalian eats the food from our nearby fields,’ Probus added, ‘feeding his army on what should be feeding the populace of the city. There will be shortages and that could mean rioting.’
‘If you send the city divisions out to fight men will die to no purpose. Let him, like an unsweetened grape, wither on the vine and in time he will go away.’
As Justinus stepped back another stepped forward with Petrus whispering again to identify the speaker, a man who had hitherto held his counsel.
‘Senator Pentheus Vicinus.’ That got a nod from his uncle and he added, ‘Well versed in intrigue.’
‘Who in this room is not?’ came the equally discreet reply. ‘And is he not cousin to the criminal named by Decimus?’
With his nephew at his back Justinus did not see the look he received, which implied in no uncertain terms that there was one person not well versed in intrigue in this chamber and it was the uncle. Vicinus began to speak, employing a very rhetorical mode of address, which to a soldier smacked of going round the houses. It was full of references to the glory of the empire and the sagacity of its present ruler. Finally he came to the point: surely wisdom dictated the first thing to do was talk. Once he got on to the real point of his intervention his language was a lot less extravagant.
‘Invite Vitalian to attend upon you and let him set out his grievances.’
The hiss from Petrus was right in his uncle’s ear. ‘If he comes through a gate he will be killed.’ A pause. ‘Which is not such a ridiculous notion.’
Justinus shook his head as the speaker continued. ‘It may be that a few small concessions will satisfy, if not Vitalian himself, then those he leads.’
‘You think there are those ready to betray him, Senator Vicinus?’
‘Unlikely. As you know, Highness, I have met Vitalian. He is a man who inspires loyalty among those he commands, for, if his opinions are skewed, his nature is not. He is a zealot for his cause, but it may be to others his views are towards the extreme. Perhaps those closest to him could aid him to modify his demands in order that no blood needs to be spilt and peace can once more be restored. It is fitting that it should. Might I also add that should any of his officers aid us in this, it would be appropriate that they should be well rewarded.’
‘Bribe them, sound thinking,’ murmured Petrus, before another pause and a question. ‘Do you think all of this spontaneous, Uncle?’ That got no reply; the senator was speaking again, explaining how this could be achieved.