The only distraction from that came by seeking diversions, most of his men in the temporary taverns and brothels set up between their camp and the walls, in Flavius’s case by a visit to Apollonia for what had become the swift and excruciating pleasure of relief, given half his day was spent in anticipation.
‘You do not seem happy to lay with me?’
‘I am,’ she insisted in a husky voice that was less than convincing, avoiding his eye by pulling him down in a close embrace.
He did not truly believe her; the coupling they had just engaged in was nothing like the first time. Yet Flavius was reluctant to challenge what she said by pointing out the difference between her eagerness then and what seemed close to meekness now, convincing himself that to speak would hurt her feelings. It would be a long time before he admitted the truth to himself: that his own desires and gratification were of such paramount concern as to overcome any feeling of selflessness.
‘Now we know where he sneaks off to.’
The voice of Helias had Flavius jumping to his feet and pulling at his leggings to cover his nakedness, leaving a confused Apollonia on her back wondering what was going on.
Tzitas spoke next. ‘Do you think he’d spare us a go?’
‘He might,’ was the hopeful response.
‘What in the name of the devil are you doing here?’ Flavius demanded, as Apollonia, embarrassed if not actually shamed, rolled on her side and pulled down her smock to conceal her nakedness.
‘Just out for a saunter, Decanus.’
He wanted to shout at Helias, indeed both of them, for they were grinning like a pair of baboons, but it is hard to stand upon your dignity when you have just been spotted with your leggings round your ankles and your bare arse visible to the world. As he tried to speak, he heard a sob.
‘Look what you have done,’ he barked.
‘Not half of what you have done,’ Tzitas snorted, ‘and even less fun.’
‘This was not fun,’ he cried reaching down to comfort Apollonia, only to realise how stupid that sounded. With his back to his tormentors he spoke softly to her. ‘Go back to your mama. I will come tomorrow and make it up to you, I promise.’
She was up and running so quickly he could not catch her smock to restrain her, so he turned around and glared. ‘I’ll make you pay for this.’
‘We’d rather pay for what you just had, Flavius.’
He wanted to strike Helias, they were of a height and he was unsure what stopped him. Possibly, he was to tell himself, because a superior does not physically strike an inferior; if he needs to punish him there are official ways to secure that. It did not always hold water; there was always the nagging suspicion that he had backed away from a scrap he might not win, for if he had struck Helias there was no doubt in his mind that the ranker would have fought back.
Just then the horns blew to summon every man in the camp and since Helias and Tzitas were already running he could do nothing more than follow. It was not Forbas this time ? the call to assemble came from Vitalian himself and so they lined up in front of his oration platform, eager to hear what he had to say, knowing it had to do with their purpose.
On the same platform stood all of his senior officers, those who had gone to meet the emperor as well as the many who had not, and Flavius examined their faces seeking to get some kind of drift of what was to come. Then Vitalian spoke, in his strong carrying voice, to tell them that Anastasius had seen the error of his edicts on dogma and had agreed terms, which he then outlined: freedom to worship according to Chalcedon, all bishops removed from their diocese to be reinstated, a gift of money from the imperial treasury ? enough to get them back from whence they came.
That made the examination of those behind Vitalian more acute, as Flavius sought evidence of disagreement; had the emperor really given way so easily, was he not secure enough behind his great walls to defy the host before them? While he was speculating on this his fellow soldiers were cheering and he realised how relieved they were and had to be open about his own emotions. For all his bluster about looking forward to battle, he had harboured no great desire to attack the defences of Constantinople and die seeking to overcome those walls.
Some of those to the rear of Vitalian looked downcast; clearly they were not in agreement and his own tribune Vigilius was one of them. How much he would like to ask him why ? which would not happen, it being a good way to a flogging for his temerity. In any case, the mood of the host was obvious and it was some time before their general could make himself heard again. Eventually the cheering died away, calmed by his outstretched arms and their gestures for silence.
‘If we have not fought a great battle we have won an even better victory. Collectively we have imposed upon a man the truth that citizens of the empire will not stand by for tyranny. Anastasius now knows how much we love our God and also knows how we choose to express that love. Jesus was born of man and is divine. He is the Son of God and he came into this world through the agency of his mother Mary.’
That got a chorus of amens; it was not just the priests that fell to their knees in supplication.
‘Let that be proclaimed loudly as we march back to Marcianopolis, a triumphal parade that will commence at dawn tomorrow, for we have no longer any need to remain in this place. Our work is done!’
The cheers deafened again, but that last exhortation concentrated the mind of Flavius; he had no desire to go back north, unless he went with a body that would gain him justice for his family, but where to go? Then it came to him: the gates of Constantinople would be open as soon as Vitalian’s host broke camp. He would enter the city and there seek out his father’s old comrade, Justinus, so he could impress on him the need to act.
The assembly was not dismissed; a cart came down the road that separated the main camp from the officers’ tents, filled with sacks, and orders were shouted that each century should form a line to be rewarded with several pieces of imperial copper, a gift to cement his goodwill from Anastasius himself. Judging by what he overheard, Flavius guessed that most of the coin would stay here and be spent within sight of the city; those enterprising traders were in for a profitable night.
With his two copper folles clutched in his hand he went in search of Apollonia. He needed to tell her of his plan and also to say that soon he would be going north again. Flavius approached her camp, only to run straight into the curator of the foresters and, judging by the glower on his large, round face, what he was going to tell Flavius was not pleasant.
‘Did you set out to dun me you little shit?’
Flavius put a meaningful hand on his sword, to tell this squat brute what might happen if he resorted to violence, before saying, as innocently as he could manage, ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Don’t fanny me. That fellow you paid me to employ showed a leg this morning and disappeared.’
The manufactured look of surprise and confusion felt utterly unconvincing and the voice seemed no better. ‘Disappeared?’ An angry nod, met with a questioning look. ‘Are you certain he has not just gone for a stroll?’
‘Stroll! With his sword, spear, and shield! I should have known anyone coming with that lot was not to be trusted. But if I have been slow, it was ’cause I expected to be paid for my service, which I take leave to say you will seek to avoid now. Well, if you think-’
Flavius stopped that tirade by pressing the two bounty coins he had just received into the man’s hand. ‘I am as surprised as you, Curator, but I must accept responsibility. He was a man I trusted, but it seems that was misplaced. I cannot have you suffer for my error, so please take what I have given you as my recompense, though I am sure money is of no interest to you, it is more mortification that animates you.’