Harry Turtledove - Justinian

I had the same sort of conversation with the officers from the Anatolic military district. They too got the bulk of their men to remain in the ranks, though a few, their home villages being so close to our line of march, did succeed in slipping away and resuming the farmer's way of life in which they passed the time between campaigns.

I was less concerned at that than I might have been under other circumstances, for we were moving along easily, de ep within the bounds of Romania, and I did not expect the onset of any foe. Indeed, all the men we had left except the excubitores had stowed spears and javelins and bows and arrows- all the weapons save those they wore on their belts- in the supply wagons that rattled along with the cavalry from the military districts.

We had passed Malagina, on the way up to Nikaia, when Myakes said, "Emperor, I know you have something on your mind, but I don't know what. If I ask you straight out, will you tell me?"

"No," I said. He gave me a reproachful look, having sometimes succeeded with such looks since my boyhood. I looked back at him, making my own features, insofar as I could, reveal nothing. He looked more reproachful yet, which I took to mean I had succeeded. Smiling, I said again, "No."

"You're a cruel man, Emperor," he said. Still I held my face steady. Sighing, he withdrew from my presence.

As we traveled the road from Nikaia up toward Nikomedeia, we began passing through country wherein the Sklavenoi had been resettled in large numbers. News of what had passed at Sebastopolis having preceded us to that part of Bithynia, our line of march found many Sklavinian women, often with brats at their side or squalling in their arms, come to learn whether their men had turned traitor, had fallen in the fighting, or had returned against the odds.

Sometimes we would see and hear happy meetings and cries of delight, sometimes wails of grief when a woman learned her barbarous husband was not coming home. Only a handful of Sklavinian women felt obliged to slay themselves from grief on learning that their men had perished. Most who discovered their men missing from the shrunken ranks of the special army assumed those men had run off with the followers of the false prophet to Syria, and so did not deem themselves required to commit suicide to join them in death. Some, indeed, wasted no time in taking up with other barbarians.

Because of these women, the journey from Nikaia up toward Nikomedeia, which should have taken at most two days, needed more than twice that long. The army, and especially the Sklavinian portion of it, took on more of the aspect of a migration than a military force: I was reminded of the bands of Mardaites- men, women, and children- traveling the military road across Anatolia toward their new homes on the frontier against the Bulgars.

"This, this carnival is disgraceful," Leontios complained, pointing to the disorder and to the unmilitary persons among the Sklavenoi.

I fixed him with my coldest stare. "When I desire your opinion, be sure I shall request it. Until such time as I do, be so good as to keep it to yourself."

"But, Emperor, I-" he began. I squeezed my horse with my knees, urging it up into a trot so I did not have to find out what vacuous opinion he was about to put forward. Not even he was so foolish as to try to keep up with me, which, given the depth of Leontios's folly, says how obvious my move to avoid him must have been.

On our reaching Eribolos, which lies on the gulf of Nikomedeia a few miles south of the town of that name, I ordered the entire army, Sklavenoi and cavalry from the military districts alike, to march west along the coast road by the southern shore of the gulf toward Prainetos, reproducing on the way the journey I had made a few years before to see Neboulos's special army as it was being assembled and drilled. The remaining Sklavenoi were glad, the route taking many of them close to the farms and villages they had established since being resettled in Romania. From the cavalry from the military districts I heard nothing but grumbling: they had thought that, in compensation for being prevented from returning to their homes, they would be allowed to go into Constantinople, and now saw themselves diverted from the city as well.

Some of their officers were sufficiently aggrieved at being turned aside from the imperial city to come to me to complain of it. For such presumption, I would at most times have given them my heartiest imitation of the wrath of God. That afternoon, though, I said only, "I still have one task remaining for your horsemen."

One of the officers, quicker than the rest, asked, "For the cavalry alone? What about the Sklavenoi?"

"Oh, the Sklavenoi will also be involved, never fear," I told him. He and several other men tried to question me further, but I looked enigmatic and said nothing.

That evening, we halted at Leukate, where white, chalky cliffs tumble down steep and sheer to the gulf of Nikomedeia. Far below us, small waves slapped the base of the cliffs, a gentle, murmurous sound. At my order, the Sklavenoi camped nearest the cliffs. I broke the horsemen from the military districts into several blocks, posting them in a sort of cup around the remnant of the special army and the drabs and nasty little children accompanying the barbarians.

Myakes came up to me as I was talking to messengers I was about to send to each encampment of the cavalry from the military districts. Being a longtime companion of mine, he exercised the privilege such men have, saying, "Emperor, I've been looking at the dispositions you've made here. Looks to me like you're going to-"

My own disposition was none too quiet. I held up my hand. He, unlike Leontios, knew better than to go on after a clear signal to halt. "What I am going to do, Myakes," I told him, "is have my revenge." I turned back to the messengers. "Tell the men, without being in any way ostentatious, to arm themselves from the supply wagons and then to await my signal."

"Aye, Emperor," they said as one, and hurried away.

"Emperor, have mercy on them," Myakes said, suddenly and urgently: he had indeed divined my intentions. "These are the ones who stayed loyal. They-"

"Are Sklavenoi," I broke in. "Are barbarians. Are likely to turn against us in any future campaign. Are, as the Holy Scriptures say, broken reeds that will pierce the hands of those who lean on them. Are never going to have another chance to betray us Romans. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Emperor," he said, and looked down at the ground. Once more, years later, he would ask me to have mercy on my enemies. I told him no then, too. I was right both times.

Having waited until I judged the messengers had reached the encampments of the cavalrymen from the military districts and those men were arming themselves, I summoned more messengers and gave them the next order to take to the soldiers. It was the last order I would give them for the night: "At the signal, rush upon the treacherous Sklavenoi and slay them all. Slay them without mercy. But for them"- and for Leontios, I thought, but I knew what I was going to do with Leontios, too-"we would have beaten the accursed Arabs. Now we shall take vengeance upon them."

As the first group of messengers had a little while before, these men answered, "Aye, Emperor." But in their voices I heard the same fierce eagerness that filled my own. Feeling vindicated, I looked round for Myakes. He had gone. Because he had served me so long and loyally, I forgave him his lack of enthusiasm this once.

I turned my attention back to the messengers. "The signal shall be two long blasts from the horn here," I told them.

"Aye, Emperor!" they said again, and, at my nod of dismissal, dashed off with gleaming eyes to pass on my commands. Again I waited. Anticipation made my heart pound ever faster, so that I had trouble judging the passage of time. At last I was certain the messengers must surely have reached even the most distant encampments. I nodded again, this time to the trumpeter. He raised his horn to his lips and blew the two notes of the signal. Standing next to him, I was almost deafened. I had wondered if all the men from the military districts would hear the call. My doubts now vanished, along with some small part of my hearing.