Triumph (19 page)

‘The border is too long and the opportunities for an incursion too spread for any one man to counter. I suggest that I have overall control based on Dara and that there should be two junior generals who will be free to act independently to the north.’

‘You have men you prefer?’ Justinian asked.

‘Bouzes is already in place and I would send Valerian to take command in Armenia.’

‘Excellency,’ protested Narses, this being no private meeting; he had no need to elaborate on that single word of protest.

‘No, Narses, I need you here in Constantinople.’

The eunuch had no idea that this had been a subject discussed between Flavius and Justinian when they were alone, as had the suggestion that feeding money to Khusrow was indulging an appetite for Byzantine gold that would never be satisfied. Flavius wanted to
employ another plan and had been given at least a nod to proceed, and the last thing needed was that bugbear of split command.

Narses would not be the only soldier seeking opportunities in the field and if there were good candidates he was too senior a figure to be one. Flavius had insisted on sole authority once more, and when his demand caused a regal frown he had driven home his point by reminding his emperor that his successes had all been when he had enjoyed sole command. That publically conceded he moved on to more troubling matters.

‘Now I must ask that John fulfil those commitments he has made to ensure that the army in the east can operate effectively.’

‘Has he not done so?’

Justinian asked this with an air of faux innocence as the substantial bulk of the Cappadocian swelled at the perceived slight on his not properly carrying out his duties. Flavius had been badgering his emperor for weeks to intervene and get the man to release supplies that he knew were already in warehouses on the city’s docks, there to be pilfered and sold off by the men supposed to be guarding them.

Such prevarication provided many with a reason to act in a sympathetic manner and for all his attempts to avoid intrigue, Flavius could not wholly avoid being embroiled in conversations with the higher functionaries of empire as he went about his daily business in the palace or attended the near endless gatherings that Antonina adored and he more often found trying.

Always attended by the imperial couple, these assemblies tended to stiffness until they retired, when those who served them could relax and get back to their intrigues and jockeying. Then there were the daily Masses, held in what Justinian was sure to be his most proud achievement as emperor and one cast in stone that would stand as his legacy.

The century-old wooden Church of St Sophia, on the eastern edge
of the imperial palace, had suffered in the Nika riots, having been set alight by the insurgents and burnt to the ground. To replace it Justinian had employed not only the greatest scientific minds of the age, he had scoured the empire for the materials and artefacts to build and furnish the paramount holy church in Christendom, creating a dome so wide and high that his more superstitious subjects feared to enter lest it collapse on their heads.

It was instructive to be within the confines of St Sophia in his company, he being like a child with a favourite toy. Deeply religious – many said Justinian was such a sinner he needed to be in order to procure forgiveness from God – it revealed a side to the Emperor that Flavius knew from past association but few others experienced.

It seemed as if within its walls, with its stained windows and great columns, he was at some kind of peace, the tension that was these days a constant normality evaporating as he took pleasure in describing the details of the design and the problems he and his advisors had overcome in construction.

There were times, at social gatherings and even following on from the Masses that Flavius enjoyed; meeting and reminiscing with men with whom he had happily campaigned, while some of the long-serving imperial courtiers were people of a wit he found difficult to match, not that he tried to.

Yet too often what began as an engaging conversation strayed into areas of which he was determined to stay clear. Gentle enquiries as to his opinion of Justinian’s abilities or his military strategy; the odd aside, usually humorously delivered, that was yet a sly dig at Theodora and either her pretensions or her perceived proclivities. Each he was sure, were hooks designed to draw out from him a point of view that would then lead to an invitation to greater intimacy and possible collusion.

Even when he had been resident in the palace, and he had been as a young Excubitor officer, Flavius had never managed to discern the currents and groupings that to Justinian appeared as an open book. The Emperor, both in power and prior to assuming his position, always seemed to know who was allied to whom in what was an ever-shifting set of temporary coalitions, rarely, it had to be said, directly aimed at the throne, more often the goal being a desire for support into a more lucrative office.

It was therefore with some joy that he was able to announce his departure for Dara. The campaigning season was nearly upon him and he required time to set in train the various stratagems he hoped would frustrate the designs of an enemy already on the move.

He spent his last night, attended upon by Solomon, close to the capital at the villa he had bought as a home for himself and Antonina not long after their marriage. Overlooking the Bosphorus it was a place of sad reflection, since he and his wife had never spent a single night together under its roof.

Dawn found Photius at the gate at the head of his personal bodyguards, as well as a strong body of Goth mercenaries who had come east to fight with a man they admired and one who might bring them much plunder. In such company it was possible to put aside the ghosts of what might have been and look ahead to the only situation in which Flavius knew himself to be contented.

Command of an army left little room for personal introspection.

O
n his way to take over command, picking up mercenary contingents
en route
, Flavius found the troops he would be required to lead into battle to be demoralised, lacking in equipment and patently frightened of facing an enemy who always outnumbered them and seemed, under Khusrow’s military reforms, to be invincible.

Many a commander would have despaired at this but Flavius had been in such a situation before and was therefore untroubled, eschewing modesty to remind them the army was now led by the Victor of Dara. That alone lifted their spirits and their general knew that fully supplied with weapons, given proper training and under good officers, even the most fearful body could be brought to the peak of fighting ability and these were the matters he set out to address.

His spies reported back that Khusrow was not bent on a second incursion into central Mesopotamia. He had gone north to fight the Huns, a tribe forever raiding his borderlands and that presented Flavius with a golden opportunity: he had time to exercise his men, and that complete he could invade Sassanid territory with no fear of meeting the main enemy force.

At a gathering of his officers only one pair demurred at this plan, the two imperial
duces
of Phoenice Libanensis, who ruled jointly
from Damascus and Palmyra. In that region they faced the pagan Lahkmids, long-time allies of the Sassanids. If they denuded their territories of troops to join Flavius it would leave them exposed to a Lahkmid invasion.

It was Arethas, the leader of the Ghassanids, neighbours and co-religionists to the Lahkmids, albeit less observant of ritual, who pointed out that at this time of year committed pagans were forbidden to go to war and would be so constrained for two whole months, during which they must worship their gods. Flavius was then able to promise the
duces
that he would release them within sixty days so they could return to their fiefs and defend them.

He did not have to travel far in order to make contact with an enemy. The Sassanid twin to the Byzantine fortress of Dara was Nisibis, a mere three leagues distant and just as powerful a stronghold, certainly one holding a garrison large enough to pose a danger if just bypassed. Flavius dismayed many of his officers, men now thirsting for action, by ordering his surveyors to stay well away from the walls and to lay out the Byzantine camp at a distance, which required him to explain his thinking to his inferior in order to put a cap on much vocal muttering.

‘It is a poor commander who does not learn from his errors. When I fought Witigis outside Rome I paid no heed to the fact that he deployed his forces further away from the walls than seemed, at the time, necessary. Yet he had a clear reason to do so and it is one I now wish to adopt.’

A look around the assembly showed many an eager listener but also some expressions that hinted at either doubt, indifference or mystification.

‘The Sassanid
spahed
in Nisibis is Nabedes. He has substantial forces under his command and we have to assume him to be capable.
Khusrow would not have entrusted to him such an important strategic asset as his major border stronghold if he was not a trusted subordinate. It is my belief that if we give him room he will come out from behind his walls to fight and drive us off, rather than accept to be put under siege.’

‘It is what you did at Dara,’ Photius added, now in a position to speak in support at such gatherings.

‘I did not venture so far, but then I had no intention of a pursuit. This time I wish to anticipate the possibility as Witigis did at Rome. Let Nabedes come to us, and if we can force him into a retreat, the gap between his army and safety could be so great that we might ruin the defence of Nisibis. If we succeed, the city will fall to us without the need to mount an assault.’

Obeyed by the majority, there were two men who thought they knew better than their general, the prime mover being a junior called Peter, like the late Constantinus a well-connected patrician who saw no reason to defer to a man of the character and breeding of Flavius Belisarius. The other commander, swayed by Peter even if he admired Flavius, was known as John the Glutton, given he was not a man to be any distance behind at mealtimes.

Declining to stop within the limit set, they marched on until not much more than a
milia
separated them from the enemy, a full half of the distance Flavius had decided upon. There was no time to recall them and besides, Flavius half wondered if Peter had inadvertently provided a temptation that the Sassanids would not be able to resist. With that in mind he sent word to the miscreant to stay where he was but to post a strong and alert guard against a night assault.

Dawn brought news that Nabedes had taken the bait. He was deploying his forces outside the walls, no doubt full of confidence based, Flavius suspected, on the way the Sassanids had routed every
Byzantine force they encountered the previous year. Hubris in an enemy is ever a positive.

Orders were issued that the normal time of breaking to eat was to be postponed past noon, Flavius sure that would be the time the enemy, who knew well the habits of Eastern Roman armies, would launch their assault. It was as well he was ready, his forces drawn up to fight, for in the distance a huge cloud of dust told him that troops were moving in mass formations. By the time the message came from Peter that he was under attack – it had come while his men were, in another act of defiance, eating their midday rations – the main force was moving, with the Goth mercenaries well to the fore, eager to show their mettle.

They found the men led by Peter and the Glutton in dire straits, indeed they passed some of them fleeing the field. But so ferocious was the Goth assault they drove back the forward Sassanid elements and those troops recoiled on the supporting elements. Seeing the main Byzantine force closing at speed and with his army in some disarray, Nabedes ordered the retreat, the very outcome that Flavius had sought.

Yet thanks to Peter, the fight and flight was taking place too close to the walls of Nisibis and if the Sassanids lost substantial numbers, it was nothing like the amount that would have fallen had they had further to run. The main force got back through the gates not far off intact, which rendered impossible any chance of taking the city by a coup.

In dressing down his two errant commanders it was plain who had initiated the disobedience. Peter was sent back to Constantinople in disgrace and John the Glutton, the lesser offender, warned that any further insubordination would see him thrown into Justinian’s dungeons with no food, a warning he extended to his whole command
when they met again to discuss what would happen now.

‘If we try to take Nisibis, Nabedes can hold out for the whole summer, so we must march on or our incursion is a waste.’

‘And leave him along our lines of communication,
Magister
?’ asked an inferior commander called Trajan. He had once been part of the Belisarian
comitatus
and was well trusted by the general who had promoted him.

‘We will achieve nothing here and it is to be hoped that Nabedes has been chastened by that which he has just experienced. He dare not lose Nisibis, given it would likely cost him his head, so I would have him cautious now and prepared to stay behind those walls.’

‘Do we not need supplies of food to come through Dara?’

The amusement that caused, the question being posed by the Glutton, made him blush, while everyone else added comments on his obvious girth until Flavius, with a raised hand brought it to an end.

‘The territory into which we are going to advance is fertile enough to support us. We need no supplies from our own possessions. The city of Sisauranon is no more than a day’s march to our front. That is our next objective.’

If the army marched on, Flavius did not; he kept a sharp eye on the gates of Nisibis for any sign that Nabedes might emerge, in which case he would swing his forces round to confront them. It was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that the
spahed
acted as predicted, the gates staying firmly closed, leaving him to ride hard to catch up with his strong rearguard.

There was no manoeuvring outside Sisauranon; as soon as they were properly deployed and their demand for surrender had been rebuffed, the Byzantines assaulted the walls with ladders, only to find them strongly held. Mounting losses caused that to be called off, which meant a siege; Flavius knew he would have to employ such a
tactic: to leave two fortresses in his rear, who might combine their forces, was too dangerous.

Yet this place was not Nisibis, being nothing like as formidable, with walls in a poor state of repair and a smaller garrison. Sure it would succumb at some point, it did not require to be invested by his whole army so he detached the forces led by Arethas, as well as over a thousand of his
bucellarii
under John the Glutton, to raid across the Tigris.

Their task was to ravage at will in a region of Persia that had not seen conflict for decades and, being well watered and fertile, was rich because of it. To ensure John was not once more tempted to exceed his orders he was accompanied by Trajan. Once Sisauranon was captured and provided the information sent back by his raiders promised good rewards, Flavius would advance with the whole army to join them.

The first indication that he might take Sisauranon quickly came with the capture of a party of deserters, their reason for flight the fact that the city was so short of food they had been put on starvation rations. They also informed him it was full of Byzantine captives taken on the previous Sassanid incursion, it being the numbers of those, and the ransoms they might fetch, that had left the fortress lacking in sustenance for the defenders.

An envoy was despatched to negotiate with promises that surrender would mean life and a degree of liberty for the citizens, or death for all if they forced a continued assault. The fighting men were mercenaries and would be sent back to Constantinople, with a recommendation from Flavius that Justinian employ them far away in Italy. The terms were accepted and Flavius marched in as the one-time defenders, and the Byzantine captives, marched west under escort.

Waiting for news of his raid across the Tigris, the army was
troubled by a serious outbreak of plague in the ranks, brought on by contact with the inhabitants of Sisauranon. Many were dying, which had him move his men to a series of camps out of the newly captured city, yet reconnaissance parties sent east brought back no news of Arethas or the Glutton, this while their commander had a problem in that time was running out: the sixty days he had promised to the
duces
of Phoenice Libanensis was nearly up and that would severely cut a force already short on effectives due to disease, so it was time for another conference.

‘I cannot ask the contingents from Damascus and Palmyra to remain and you can all see how our effectives are diminished by sickness. Men are dying every day and our only hope is to get away from here so that at least some may recover their health in more benign locations.’

As always he looked around the assembled officers to seek to discern if there was disagreement, not that he anticipated any. They would have to give up Sisauranon but that was a necessary price to pay because it could not be held; any garrison left behind would be beyond succour should the Sassanids seek to retake it, and besides, it would act as a magnet for the Byzantine garrison at Dara, perhaps drawing them into a fight on terms chosen by the Sassanids.

‘We have the city treasury and we will destroy the walls prior to departure, so rendering it useless to Khusrow.’ The option to advance was posed as a rhetorical question and one he answered himself. ‘We have no idea as to what lies across the Tigris, and given our numbers it is my opinion it would be a risky venture to probe further into Persia without knowing it to be clear of our enemies.’

A murmur of agreement followed the summation. ‘So, I will send messages to our forward elements that I intend to withdraw and that they should do likewise. We will send the sick ahead to the coast and
form up to their rear to protect them. Best to think of fighting another day than to risk being caught away from our own lands when we are weakened.’

John the Glutton and Trajan caught up with Flavius before he reached Dara, not hard given he was retiring at a snail’s pace so as not to tire his soldiers, while also seeking to deceive the enemy in Nisibis and leave them confused as to his intentions. The number of laden carts they returned with testified to the success of their mission, carrying enough booty to gladden the hearts of the most avaricious of plunderers, spoils that would be distributed throughout the army.

‘Arethas?’

‘He parted company from us when we decided to retire,’ John responded. ‘Which was forced upon us even before we received your orders.’

A questioning look demanded he continue. ‘Arethas sent hunting parties out to bring in food and also to warn against any enemy approaching from the east, which was just as well. They spotted a strong force of Persians that massively outnumbered us, so flight was our only option. With so much plunder, which might slow us down, Arethas suggested we divide it before retiring—’

‘To which you agreed?’ Flavius asked.

‘Yes. He undertook to bring his half back directly and we would bring the rest by a different route.’

‘Photius, send out scouts to the east to look for Arethas.’

‘I thought he would get here ahead of us,’ said Trajan, the look on his face one of confusion. ‘He did ask us to delay a day and give him a head start.’

‘Well, let us hope for all our sakes he is not far off. If he brings in anything like that which you fetched, Khusrow might drop dead from apoplexy.’

Slow as the army moved no sign came of Arethas or any of his Ghassanids. Questioned more, both John and Trajan admitted they had seen no sign themselves of any Persian forces and once back at Dara, and still no sign, the
solidus
finally dropped.

The cunning Ghassanid leader had taken half of the plunder, but not to share with his Byzantine allies; he would keep it to himself and his people. Word came eventually that he was indeed back in his own territory and so were the spoils. He would stay there too, for to venture out and risk being caught by Flavius would have cost him his head.