Triumph (13 page)

Faced with the need to fight on three fronts, added to a possible sortie from Ariminum itself, the Goths knew they were beaten. The forward skirmishers, sent to harass them, were called back in when those controlling them reported the enemy was in the process of striking their tents and loading their supply waggons. They were doing so at a deliberate pace until Ildiger began to land his troops on the nearby sandy shore.

Haste then became the order of the day, which meant that when Flavius led his men forward, his enemies having melted away northwards, it was to a field denuded of warriors but covered with much in the way of abandoned supplies, this while Ildiger led his men into the no longer besieged city.

The man who greeted him was less the Adonis than hitherto, having starved alongside the inhabitants and his soldiers. Not a horse was left of what had been a force of two thousand cavalry, every one having been eaten. With hollowed cheeks, much spare flesh and a less than full gait, John Vitalianus, having acknowledged Ildiger, went out to meet Flavius Belisarius, becoming somewhat restored in stature when he espied Narses, the pair quick to embrace.

Nor was it long before he found out about the differing opinions on
tactics, which meant his meeting with Flavius alone did not proceed as the man in command thought it should. He felt Vitalianus would do well to grovel for his disobedience; John, never inclined that way, was bolstered by the proximity of Narses and was now, as far as he was concerned, the equal of the man before him.

‘Do you doubt it was a direct order?’

If Vitalianus was not physically fully restored, more than one good meal had lifted his spirits and that was evident in his defiant look. ‘A general, however clever, who is fifty leagues away, cannot see what is before the man on the spot.’

‘The man fifty leagues distant might have a plan that encompasses more than a search for individual glory. And do not forget that I had eyes in Ariminum in the presence of Ildiger, who had the good sense, when you plainly had none, to bring his men to a place where they could be of some use to a campaign. Had he stayed, you would have been starved out.’

‘Which I am told you were willing to countenance.’

‘Do not think yourself worth it. Remember the two thousand men you led and nearly lost to Goth slavery.’

‘They would have died for me.’

‘Then they would have died in vain,’ Flavius barked. ‘Now regardless of that which you owe to me, you are required to thank Ildiger, who entered Ariminum first, as well as publically apologise for overruling him when he brought you my orders.’

The reply was given with cold but suppressed fury. ‘I will not.’

‘Then you leave me no choice but to send you back to Constantinople.’

‘An order I refuse to obey.’

‘Is that because of habit?’

Vitalianus stood, his emaciated frame shaking with fury. ‘I will
not put myself under obligation to Ildiger, and by association to you, and I will remind you that Ariminum was held and the Goths were forced to retire, even if it was not of your doing. If I owe my survival to anyone it is to Narses.’

‘And if he demands the same?’

‘He won’t, Flavius Belisarius, for he is not only a better man than you but he is twice the general you will ever be. He knows my worth, and added to that he has the Emperor’s ear and has done for many years now. So I doubt you will be sending me anywhere.’

Again it was Procopius who became the sounding board for what was a real dilemma. The secretary was not in the least surprised that Narses had declined to support Flavius in taking action against Vitalianus.

‘Narses cannot be seen to abandon John, for to do so would be taken badly by all of his client officers.’

Flavius could appreciate that; did he not himself have men who looked to him for advancement and in return gave him their loyalty? He might reassure himself that he never indulged a poor commander but that did not change matters. The system of clientism had existed since the Republic and nothing he could do would change it.

The response came with a sigh. ‘While if I insist, I will split the army.’

‘Pray Photius brings back that which you need.’

I
n a matter of weeks the command situation deteriorated; a far from chastened John Vitalianus engaged in an attempt to undermine Flavius Belisarius and Narses did nothing to squash this, which implied that he would not be averse to the miscreant’s aims. As usual, Procopius had his ear to the ground, and through reliable informants quickly established within the ranks of the new arrivals was able to report that Photius would face a counter embassy at the Imperial Court from those who supported a man who had now become a rival.

Flavius was worried Narses might underestimate the Goths, reminding him of the fortresses they held on the Tiber, an arc of eight strongholds with Ravenna to the north and Auximus to the south. Any neutral person studying a map would see the combined Byzantine forces as being surrounded with their backs to the Adriatic, rather than being in the ascendant.

Matters were rendered more complicated because Narses point-blank refused to discuss strategy in private, insisting that any decisions should be arrived at with the aid of the men who would be tasked to carry them out. Flavius suspected he found it easier to decline to cooperate in company than he would if they were alone. His main point was to insist that by remaining in Ariminum over the winter they were safe, with the
sea at their back and a strong fleet in support.

He refused to accept that the security of Rome was vital, that to the people of the Italian peninsula the city had an almost mythical standing as the ancient capital of the Republic as well as the present centre of the Christian faith. Flavius suspected Narses knew as he did of that symbolic importance; it was just another example of his playing to the gallery of his own officers.

‘I would wish to march on Milan, Narses, not return to Rome. The siege there is being pressed hard and Mundus has already told us he will struggle to hold for much longer. Besides which, there is a Goth army in the field for us to fight and defeat.’

‘And a hundred leagues to march, which will take us away from the security I have just alluded to. That not only renders us exposed, it will risk us losing Ariminum and Ancon, the very cities we must hold. Let your Goths come to us.’

The argument carried on but to little avail and that presented Flavius with a real dilemma. Prior to any attack on Ravenna, which he heartily wished to undertake, he felt the need to ensure his rear was secure. Ever since landing in Italy he had gone to great lengths to guarantee that he could safely withdraw from any forward position without having to forfeit the campaign. There were those even amongst his own officers who saw this as overcautious; he did not, given the alternative might be complete destruction.

He tried to persuade Narses to combine with him on an assault on Auximus to open the route to the south as well as providing an alternative road to Rome. He refused and if the reasons were frustrating they were cogently argued by a man who was no stranger to warfare or generalship; his opinions, even if Flavius disagreed with them, were based on his appreciation of the military situation and could, objectively examined, be just as valid.

As ever a compromise was reached: Flavius would winter in the west, which would relieve the supply situation in an area much ravaged by warfare. But with a few weeks remaining of the campaigning season, Narses would join with him in seeking to take Urbinus. This Goth enclave was the closest to Ariminum and it dominated the Via Flaminia, the direct route to Rome. Milan would be left to fend for itself, which meant an inevitable capitulation.

Even in this, division was quick to show: John Vitalianus advised Narses to camp separately to Belisarius, who had set up his siege lines to the west of Urbinus. Staying to the east of the city it underlined their lack of confidence in a successful outcome, John being particularly of the opinion that the city, well supplied with food and water, would never fall before the onset of winter obliged the Byzantines to move on.

As usual envoys were despatched to offer terms of surrender, these brusquely rejected, which provided enough of an excuse for Narses, urged on by his favoured inferior, to abandon the attempt and retire on Ariminum, this despite the fact that Flavius had begun the construction of the siege engines necessary to achieve a successful assault. Not given to begging Flavius did try, but to no avail.

‘And by halving our forces, Narses brings about that which drives him away.’

It was plain Martinus, acting as his senior subordinate, did not know what to say to comfort his general and ended up proposing the wrong alternative, which to him seemed the only one to make sense.

‘So we march on to Rome?’

Flavius, normally the calmest of men, positively snarled his response. ‘I will take Urbinus without any aid from Narses.’

It required all of his force of personality to drive on the various commanders in an enterprise in which they had little faith – Martinus was not alone in thinking half a host could not carry out such a
task. The building of a tower and the construction of a ram required that Flavius harry men who had picked up on the dejection of their officers, a disposition that was doubly evident on the morning chosen for the primary assault.

To quell the pessimism it was necessary that their general very visibly lead from the front, a position of great danger as he was dressed in fine armour and was riding a white horse underneath his very recognisable personal standard. He knew if he fell then any forward movement would cease, not that there was a great deal to begin with, the approach being agonisingly slow given the rumbling tower setting the pace.

The gates opening before him came as jolt enough to stop him dead. A party of Goths emerged to throw aside their arms before approaching the now stationary Flavius Belisarius. Sat astride his fidgeting horse, Flavius had to grip hard with his knees to keep it steady as the embassy came within hailing distance. Their message was brief: Urbinus was his and it was a capitulation, there being no request for terms.

‘Pursue Narses, Martinus, and inform him that Urbinus is ours.’ The voice went from triumphant to bitter. ‘And when you do, ensure that John Vitalianus is with him.’

‘Do I say why it fell so easily?’

That was put to Flavius with a grin; Martinus thought he knew what the answer would be and he was not disappointed.

‘No details, just be brief and do not forget to gloat.’

Flavius was left, as Martinus departed, to reflect on the way God had favoured his purpose once more. Surely it was divine intervention that had dried up the wells on which Urbinus depended for water, for it had come about from no action of his, the result being that holding out against the siege became impossible.

‘They will find out in time, but let them wonder at their caution until they do.’

The response was initially encouraging but ultimately depressing; pricked into action Narses sent John Vitalianus off to take Caesena, the Goth stronghold that controlled the road to Milan. Hurriedly pressed it miscarried with heavy loss of life, though John, determined to match Belisarius with a success, bypassed his failure and drove the Goths out of Forocornelius, which left very exposed the capital of Ravenna.

The news reached Flavius just as he took a second enemy fortress on the Via Cassia to the north of Rome; that arc of Goth pressure that had so concerned him was now very close to being utterly broken. But it had happened at a time when to fully exploit it was impossible. With winter upon the land, cold weather, heavy rains in the lowlands and snow blocking the Apennine passes campaigning became impossible.

It was in these conditions that Photius returned from Constantinople. ‘It pains me to say this to you, Father, but my mother may have had more influence on the decision than any representations I made.’

‘Did Justinian indicate as much?’

Photius shook his head. ‘There was no doubt Theodora knew of the dispute with Narses, it was the talk of the court, and from all you have told me the Emperor would be unlikely to act without including his wife.’

Flavius was perplexed; Theodora did not trust him and as far as he knew she had a high degree of faith in Narses. He had sent Photius in the hope that he would get a private audience with Justinian and extract from him a favourable decision without involving her. This forced him to acknowledge he had been naïve and not for the first time; Antonina was in constant correspondence with her imperial friend so the idea that his differences with Narses were unknown in Constantinople was risible.

He could not avoid searching for motives, given Photius was telling him that Theodora had a hand in the decision to recall Narses, which had him frowning as he racked his brain to try to untangle that which was and would always be concealed: the devious mind of the Empress.

‘Does something still trouble you, Father?’ asked Photius, reacting to the expression.

‘Many things trouble me, my son, but now that Narses has been recalled the major one of those is removed. And the double windfall is I get to keep the men he brought with him from Illyricum.’

It was later, in conversation with Procopius, that a possible solution was arrived at. If Theodora did not trust anyone, Flavius knew she was adept at picking out who to rely on in any given situation. Always alert to threats to her person she would have more than one to guard against and it was possible she needed Narses in close proximity to ward off the machinations of different powerful courtiers.

‘There again, Justinian may have just seen the sense of what I have been telling him for years. Two men cannot successfully command an army.’

Procopius was not prepared to believe that, his expression said so.

Two pieces of information came to depress Flavius prior to his departing Rome in the spring. One was the information that the slave girl who had told him of his wife’s adulterous behaviour had been murdered shortly after he left Sicily, this while Antonina and Theodosius were still there.

The second piece of information made him feel even worse. Pope Vigilius had not, as he had promised, put Silverius through an ordeal of examination by bishops. Instead he had shipped him to a waterless island and left him there to starve to death, the pity being that the perpetrator was not in Rome when this became known. Perhaps it
was for the best Vigilius had decamped to Naples, because Flavius, in a combination of rage and misery, might have committed sacrilege by personally lopping off his head.

‘There is no point in asking him if he is responsible,
Magister
,’ Procopius counselled, when they discussed the possibility of arraigning him. ‘He will deny that he gave any orders to kill Silverius and blame his minions. Besides, do you think he would have dared to act without at least a nod from the Empress? To confront him with the crime is to confront her.’

‘The killing of that maid troubles me as much.’

‘And again you have had only denial.’

That had been a stormy occasion and one in which Antonina had reacted with fury at the accusation of being behind the death of her maid, described by his wife as a loose creature inclined to seek to satisfy her carnal needs in inappropriate places and with questionable company, that very likely being the cause of her death.

If Flavius did not believe it he had no way to refute accusations aimed at a woman he barely knew. Macedonia had been one of several maids who served his wife, and in any case, such attendants did not tend to last long before something they had done, probably an innocent act, saw them dismissed.

‘Even if you had proof, which you do not …’

The response to what was obvious and left unsaid by Procopius came with a sigh. ‘Theodora would rush to defend Antonina and I would not get justice.’

‘No.’

With so much to do in preparing the next part of the campaign it was not possible to brood on such matters. Flavius did, however, commission a small shrine to the memory of those for whose deaths he felt responsible and that, to the surprise of many, was dedicated
not just to Silverius and Macedonia, but also to Constantinus. Asked why by Photius, the reply he gave was true to the way he felt.

‘If I had tried to understand him more, included him more in my thinking, trusted him more, he might have had faith in me to be lenient.’

‘He despised you, Father. Remember, too, he tried to kill you. He deserved his fate for that and not just the stolen daggers.’

‘I was looking into his eyes when he went for his knife, Photius. He was sure I was determined on his execution and for nothing more than his patrician birth. How can it be that I cannot convince a man that I would not hate him for that?’

‘Am I allowed to say that you are berating yourself for no purpose? These are but minor matters in that in which you are engaged.’

Flavius shook himself, Photius was right.

If Narses had gone home, John Vitalianus had not and since he had his own numerous
comitatus
the option of not employing him did not exist. For security against his potential malice Flavius sent him north with Martinus as his commander, their task to ensure the forces that had retaken Milan stayed north of the River Po and did not come to the aid of the their comrades as Flavius advanced on Ravenna.

The spies Procopius still had in the retinue of Witigis were able to tell of the Goth King’s manoeuvres. Over the winter he had tried to enlist help from the Lombards, a barbarian tribe resident in Pannonia on the northern border of Illyricum, only to discover that Justinian had beaten him to an alliance that would keep them neutral.

His next move was just as dangerous; envoys had been sent to the Sassanids in the hope they would put pressure on the eastern Byzantine border, which threatened would be bound to draw soldiers away from Italy, affairs in that area always taking precedence over
other borders. To lose to the Sassanids imperilled the whole Eastern Empire. Such information only confirmed in Flavius the need to bring matters to a conclusion. He had the troops he needed and the inferior commanders he could trust to act as he wished, even John Vitalianus. If that officer did not act for love of his general, his personal ambition was enough to drive him on.