Jack Ludlow: Triumph

The question had clearly been posed with no great expectation of an answer; that Ebrimuth got one so defined surprised him, so much so that he could not react, allowing Flavius to continue.

‘Of course, I have no desire to be held up so far south in a fight I cannot lose. So I will offer you terms, Kindin . You and your personal followers can abandon Rhegium by treaty, taking with you your weapons, possessions and your families and we will not hinder your departure. Should you stay and seek to defend a city without one rampart to its name I cannot answer for what the outcome may be.’

‘Even a man so renowned for his compassion?’

‘I grant you I do not like to see a city sacked and blood uselessly sacrificed but there are times when it becomes impossible to control men forced to fight and risk death for that which is indefensible. Rhegium is a rich prize and you cannot say what the temptation to plunder will do to discipline.’

‘You are asking me to ride back to Ravenna and tell my King that I did not even try to defend my city?’

‘At least you will ride back.’

‘And what do you think would be his response?’

‘Theodahad knows Rhegium is impossible to defend. I have a superior army in terms of quality and numbers. With another army on the coast of Illyricum to threaten him he will not be hurrying to your aid, even to save his own daughter from falling into our hands.’

‘An assumption.’

‘A reasonable one. It is also reasonable to assume that if he allowed the marriage, you might not be his favourite courtier. Fathers can be harsh on the spouses chosen by their daughters.’

That checked the Goth and he lacked the skill to hide it; he had indeed married for love, in the face of parental disapproval from Theodahad, which only served to drive home that when it came to events surrounding the court of the Ostrogoth Kingdom of Italy there were, as far as Constantinople was concerned, few secrets.

Flavius Belisarius did not have to allude directly to the fact that Ebrimuth might have his head removed for his failure to defend Rhegium even if he survived any attempt to hold the port city in the first place. Certainly Theodahad’s daughter would weep in either event but her father would have the sons of their union and, childless himself, that would present him with the basis of a dynasty, something dear to the heart of any ruler.

‘A possible solution presents itself, Kindin .’ That got narrowed eyes and a suspicious look, which to Flavius was unconvincing. ‘It is in the nature of our Emperor to be compassionate to those of his enemies caught on the horns of a dilemma such as yours.’

‘Which is?’

‘To offer them sanctuary.’

Ebrimuth looked down then at his lap, which left Flavius to contemplate the top of his blond-haired head. He waited long enough to allow what he had just said to sink in before continuing.

‘If you think Rome was once magnificent you have yet to see Constantinople. The city has a wealth almost too hard to encompass, even for me. I also serve a man who hates war-’

‘Hard to believe given the number he has engaged in.’

‘Many times we have been obliged to defend ourselves and we have a right to seek to recover territory long held by our predecessors, but I doubt you have any notion of the offers made to Theodahad over many years to bring such a return about.’

Ebrimuth’s father-in-law was slippery as an eel and it was no secret he had flirted with Justinian when Athalaric had been the heir to the Theodoric throne. More recently he had agreed to sell his kingdom to Justinian in return for title to the old imperial estates of Italy, a source of massive and steady wealth, reneging at the last moment, it was thought for fear of his nobles. It was the breaking of that undertaking which had provided the justification for the present invasion.

‘What was offered to him?’ Ebrimuth asked, seeking to feign a degree of indifference, as if to imply the question was posed out of mere curiosity.

‘Patrician rank as long as he renounced his Arianism. Land and a position in the administration of the empire, a place in the imperial armies for those of his followers who came with him.’

Flavius waited for Ebrimuth to be drawn out; he waited in vain. ‘I would not be in any way astonished if Justinian offered the same to any high-ranking Goth nobleman wishing to eschew war in favour of peace.’

‘Is Rhegium worth it?’

‘It is to me and I am favoured by the fact that Justinian is open to my advice.’

The question that followed was posed in a near whisper. ‘And you would be willing to advance such a proposal to him?’

‘It would not please me, Ebrimuth, even on such a short acquaintance, to see your head stuck on a pike, wherever that might reside.’

‘I must consult my closest followers.’

Flavius was tempted to say that most of them must have come out in that boat with him. The person he needed to talk to was his wife, which induced a sad feeling. He too needed to talk to his wife, but not on a subject even remotely facing this Goth. It was as well Ebrimuth stayed silent and contemplative; if he had not he might have sensed the sudden turmoil such thoughts created in the mind of the man with whom he was negotiating.

Finally he spoke, standing as he did so. ‘You will have your reply with the dawn, magister .’

Ebrimuth spun round to reboard his vessel with the same agility as he had shown when coming aboard. The lines were cast off and the single sail raised on the smaller boat as it swung round to head back to Rhegium on the wind. Photius was quick to approach his stepfather, to whom he was more loyal than to his transgressive mother. He had heard the last part of the exchange and wanted to know what the outcome would be.

‘We must lose men to another garrison, Photius.’

‘You are sure he will accept?’

‘Of course he will, boy,’ Flavius replied, with a gentle slap on the back. ‘It’s what he came for.’

‘Procopius, you knew!’

The secretary, tall and gangling, just smiled again, which on such an aesthetic countenance smacked of condescension. ‘I was tempted to wager with you, Photius, but taking ripe fruit from a child is too easy.’

‘I am not a child!’

‘No,’ Flavius said with some force, aiming a sharp glance at a too sarcastic Procopius. ‘You are a man and one I am proud of. Now let us get back to the landing beach and prepare to march north.’

The sailing master had been awaiting the order and with his rowers back on their oars, no longer in armour but dressed in nothing but loin cloths, he called out the required commands that got his galley moving. Flavius walked to the prow to take advantage of the cooling breeze as well as to think.

‘Do you think Justinian will agree?’ Photius asked Procopius.

‘I do. The magister would be unlikely to make such an offer unless it had been previously discussed.’ As the youngster nodded, Procopius added in a sour tone, ‘Not that the Emperor is incapable of denying such an arrangement if it suits his purpose on the day.’

There was nothing to trouble the army on the march north, this being a part of the world unused to war. The various towns which Flavius approached, lacking walls and faced with overwhelming force, quickly surrendered. In the present conqueror they found a man who had long ago set his stamp on what his troops were allowed to do in recently taken territory – no despoliation, anything acquired paid for, women treated with respect – and he had been known to hang transgressors in the past if his strictures were ignored.

His army, and that included his senior commanders, had been subjected to the same speech before they departed Sicily, one he had assailed them with on previous campaigns, a special emphasis being addressed to the newly joined troops under Constantinus. The land they were going to was being brought back to its rightful ownership, that of the true Roman Emperor. The people they would encounter, Goths and their allies apart, were not to be treated as enemies but responsibilities, and just in case anyone harboured doubts, there were sound reasons for kindness.