‘You make him sound like a paragon, Flavius.’
‘If I do, then it is because I cannot do otherwise, which is what I expect you to tell Vitalian when he questions you as you have queried me.’
That got a wry smile. ‘Are you going to tell me what I should say?’
‘If I was it would be to this effect. The general who commands you has served with Justin before. If he remembers the man from then, you could not say better than that he is the very same now.’ With that he stood. ‘I must make a last visit to my men.’
‘Then I must accompany you. The foederati will have been at their brew and that makes them dangerous.’
The vague noise of singing, which had penetrated the walls of the tent, became louder as they made their way through the encampment and being wistful it could hardly be reckoned as threatening. Vigilius explained if the Gautoi began their recitals with mournful ballads of their homeland, it would later turn to raucous renditions to the deeds of heroes and death to their foes.
‘If it gets out of hand, then Vitalian must personally soothe them, for they are fiercely loyal to him as their leader.’
‘No wonder he looks weary if he must attend to that every night.’
‘It is not every night.’
The sound was a backdrop to the carrying out of his final task for the day. When Vigilius suggested he return to his quarters to sleep, Flavius politely refused; he would stay with those he led and share their cots, this before he commanded his men to keep their weapons close by them throughout the night, as would he.
If the passing of the hours of darkness were noisy there was no threat of danger. Flavius woke to the sound of the guards being changed. He rose from his cot to observe that being carried out and to reassure himself that it was men of the right kind. Morning brought food, the means to wash and shave as well as a message for him to attend upon Vitalian when he was ready.
Again the general surrounded himself with his inferior commanders, making Flavius wonder if there was a lack of complete trust. It was something of a thought to hold on to and possibly pass on as Vitalian, having rehearsed his grievances and theirs, finally got to the point.
‘No man has the right to fight without just cause, therefore it is incumbent upon me to test the goodwill of my one-time comrade and see if his sudden rise has altered his character.’ There was yet again that inclusive turn before he came back to look Flavius hard in the eye. ‘But I will do so not only in the company of my sons and my officers but with my army at my back, and I will not accede to anything that favours me yet does not do likewise for them.’
‘So be it,’ Flavius replied.
Vitalian seemed to grow then, to become something of his old self, as in a loud and commanding voice he ordered that the camp be broken. ‘We depart at dawn!’
‘Which means that he is not at liberty to make a peace of his own. If he does, I think his officers will kill him.’
His audience with Justin was a private one; not even Petrus was in attendance, though Flavius had found enough time to relate to him what had occurred before being called into the private imperial chamber. He gave his report still with the muck of several days march upon him, having come south with Vitalian to only part company when the rebel army was outside the walls and setting up yet again a siege camp, albeit their numbers made such a notion risible.
‘Should I go out to meet him?’
‘I doubt he will enter the city, but if you do so, Highness, I would take as many archers as you can muster.’
‘No,’ Justin mused. ‘I can see why you think it wise, Flavius, but I am a soldier still. To get what I want means the taking of risks, though I will make sure I am on a fleet-of-foot horse. If there is trickery, it is best shown without the walls. Once inside it would be impossible to detect.’
That took Flavius back to that hurried conversation with Petrus who, if he had listened, was also full of enough worry and barely suppressed anger to speak. Justin was having trouble imposing himself on the officials he had inherited from Anastasius and the palace was seething with scheming, his nephew certain that some were openly plotting against the imperial person, furious that he would not do what was necessary.
‘He will not remove them?’ Flavius had asked.
‘That is not how you deal with treachery. When you are faced with a snake, the best way to rid yourself of it is to cut off its head, but what does my uncle do? He wants to introduce another reptile into his presence and promises to hold him close.’
Justin did not go out to meet Vitalian entirely naked; he deployed the gloriously accoutred Scholae Palatinae, a unit that revelled in the opportunity to display themselves and appear as what they should have been: an effective imperial mounted bodyguard, to which Petrus remarked, ‘God help us if it all if goes wrong, because those overperfumed oafs will not.’
They were halted halfway between the walls and the point at which Vitalian waited, while Justin rode on with only Flavius Belisarius and a decharchia of Excubitors to protect his person. When close he dismounted and Vitalian responded likewise, the two closing to engage in a private conversation. No one was sure of what was being said for there seemed no physical sign of either amity or dispute.
Finally, Vitalian took a step back, to spin round and stride out to close with and face his troops. The distance meant the words he used to address them were rendered indistinct to the likes of Flavius, but the final effect, if it was some time in coming, was stunning. As one, the entire rebellious army withdrew their swords then knelt, each one held out in submission. Vitalian did likewise until Justin closed the gap and raised him up to be taken in a tight and brotherly embrace.
The cheers were from the walls as well as from those Vitalian had led there and they lasted all the way through the Golden Gate and up the Triumphal Way as, on foot, Justin led his old comrade to his palace. It hardly seemed to matter that his army, officers included, was left outside.
CHAPTER NINE
It was two months before Vitalian’s men were deployed on the Persian frontier, eight weeks in which the first two were spent outside of the walls of Constantinople. If allowed to enter it was in small groups and that applied even to the officers, so it was some time before Flavius was able to return hospitality to Vigilius. Not that he had him to himself; his colleagues in the Excubitor officers’ quarters were keen to quiz this guest who had campaigned for nearly three years in a less than perfect army.
More impressive was the way Justin treated the one-time rebel commander; Vitalian was raised to senatorial rank and granted a pension, his sons Bouzes and Coutzes promised favour and advancement in the offices of empire. For those who attended the meeting of the imperial council it must have been strange to find him not only present but listened to when he spoke, often to disagree with the Emperor, a way of behaviour most reckoned by long experience to be hazardous. They voiced their disagreements elsewhere and in private.
Vitalian’s army was fed and paid as would be any unit of the imperial army, in this case the only difference being that it was prompt in delivery for it was overseen by Justin personally and not left to officials who seemed to behave, when it came to paying soldiers, as if they were disbursing their own money. The Emperor wanted no trouble from disgruntled foederati outside his walls.
‘So you are to come with us, Flavius?’ Vigilius asked.
‘I am.’
‘And we are now of like rank?’