Jack Ludlow: Honour

Then there was the rapport his wife enjoyed with Theodora who might take any slight against Antonina as one against herself. They had resumed their previous intimacy and joy in each other’s company as if there had been no gap in time, the only difference now being that he seemed to be excluded from a fellowship of which he had previously been a part. Whatever set the pair giggling no longer included him and the message he took from that was that his wife had a greater lever on imperial favour than he did.

Justinian was prone to waver even when he was dealing with someone he insisted was a trusted friend, while Theodora had a constancy of purpose the Emperor lacked, which was made obvious by the way his promised triumph was whittled down from grandeur to an event that would not diminish the imperial standing. It had all started so well as Justinian enthused about what was to come, exposing a desire for pomp and ceremony that Flavius had never perceived before.

‘We shall have a proper Roman triumph,’ had been the Justinian declaration. ‘You in a chariot painted blue, crowned with laurels, your prisoners dragged along in chains and your soldiers parading at their rear.’

Normally quite physically constrained, in discussing the plans he became quite animated so it was doubly noticeable when that stopped and he began to slice away at things, the first part of the ceremony to go being the chariot.

‘It is perhaps not fitting for even a general as successful as you to take upon yourself that which is reserved for monarchy.’ Justinian looked somewhat sheepish as he continued, ‘You will, of course, be splendidly garbed.’

‘On my horse?’

‘Perhaps on foot.’

The prisoners he kept, and the chains, which were symbolic in any case. The notion of his whole comitatus marching in his wake was shortened by the bucellarii he had left with Solomon and was now further cut by Justinian to a mere numerus of his best troops. The embarrassment with which these economies were spoken of led Flavius to believe that Theodora was at the back of them and that was borne out by her continued behaviour.

She did not trust him. Not only was he too close to her husband, he was now too successful. Flavius guessed in her view that if there was any opposition to Justinian, and by extension herself, he would be the focus around which it would coalesce. To deny it would achieve nothing and he was aware that the way he was cornered by other senators, even if the talk was innocent, only fuelled her suspicions, given she had no idea what was being discussed. His own mistrust of his wife barred him seeking to use her as a conduit.

It is not pleasant to feel there is nothing you can do about a misperception. The idea Theodora obviously entertained, that he hankered after the diadem, was firmly rooted in her own fear of being torn apart by the mob. Emperors were rarely popular; they taxed, they punished and they built up over time a rising tide of grievances, but within that Justinian was not doing as badly as some of his predecessors. He had peace on the eastern border, albeit a bought one, and his favourite general had brought not only North Africa back into the imperial fold but a treasure so great it had been fought at a profit.

‘Added to that, the mob have forgiven me for my part in the Nika riots and I am hailed wherever I go.’

‘How she must hate that.’

Procopius being right did not make matters any easier, for there was always the fear that Theodora would allow her imaginings to get out of control and seek to dispose of him.

‘I cannot see how you will be safe if you do not speak with Justinian.’

‘And say what?’

‘You are at risk,’ his secretary insisted, before adding, ‘Not that I would believe any assurances he gave me.’

‘Then, what is the point?’

‘It tells him you’re aware of the dangers, and who knows, he may stay her vitriol because he needs you. He is the only one who can stop Theodora, and from what you say that might be necessary.’

It had to be done, Flavius knew it as well as Procopius, but there was the timing to add to the reluctance. The suggestion that Justinian might, as had his uncle of old, take a walk on the greensward with Flavius in company was not met with instant approval; the nephew was neither a lover of the outdoors or much in the way of physical exercise, which in truth he scarcely needed, given his frantic way of pacing the palace corridors. As usual, they walked past men exercising with weapons, but whereas Justin had shown interest his nephew eschewed none and nor was he fooled into thinking that this was just a friendly stroll.

‘So, Flavius, now that you have me where no one can overhear what we say …?’

‘I need the answer to certain questions and only you possess them.’

‘Need? I have ceased to be accustomed to that.’

There was a degree of annoyance in the imperial tone. Justinian had grown into his role; any nerves he had displayed, albeit in private, after his elevation or during the Nika riots had evaporated now. He was not open to his subjects demanding anything, never mind his inner thoughts.

‘Then I am going to encroach on our past association to seek answers.’

‘And I will use that past association to warn you to show some care.’

He would know what was coming: Justinian was not a fool, but it was clear the first query threw him. ‘My triumph, which is rapidly becoming a sham.’

‘Imperial dignity,’ was the reply, a slow response and one that was as evasive as it was unsatisfactory.

‘Yours, Highness, or that of your wife?’ Getting no immediate reply Flavius continued. ‘What was her reaction when those messengers came from Carthage to tell you I was preparing to rebel?’

Looking at him Flavius was sure he was going to deny that any such message had come to him, but it was an exchanged look and a flinty-eyed one from Flavius that told His Imperial Highness that would not wash.

‘It troubled me, it was bound to.’

‘Me?’

‘I spend my whole life now having people declare to me how virtuous they are and not one of them is telling the truth.’

‘And I do not count as an exception?’

‘Yes, Flavius, you do.’

‘Then why-’

Justinian cut across him. ‘If I am counselled to show caution I would be a fool to refuse to take heed. When someone reminds you that it was Brutus who helped murder Julius Caesar then you will know that no ruler can ever think himself secure.’

‘Theodora thinks I mean to topple you?’

‘She will not cease to fear that the possibility exists and the oddity is, Flavius, that it is your upright nature that she fears most.’

‘That makes little sense.’

‘It does to her. You cannot rule without making enemies and we have made many and that does not begin to count the greedy. In addition to that we both have a bloodline despised by most of these with whom you share the Senate, Theodora especially.’

‘Mine is not much better.’

That point was ignored. ‘Who would those people turn to when they seek to overthrow the person they conveniently call a tyrant other than the man of shining virtue? Who would the mob proclaim in the Hippodrome if not the most successful general this empire has produced in decades, the paragon who is draped in glory?’

‘I cannot help what people think.’

‘Then apply that to my wife and take comfort from this. If she fears you, then you are far from alone.’

‘Fears me enough to ensure I can be no threat?’

‘I will protect you, Flavius, but there are occasions where I must bend with the wind she creates. I rule but she does so as my consort and we are, in all respects, partners.’

There was a terrible temptation to ask Justinian if he too felt threatened by Theodora — homicidal female companions were not unknown — but that would be a step too far, indeed it was next made plain to him that he had already overstepped the bounds of whatever friendship existed between them, an admonition delivered in a tone that left Flavius in no doubt Justinian meant the words he employed.