They then rampaged through the city, setting alight to two churches, including St Sophia. Next the Senate House went up in flames as well as the Baths of Zeuxippus and Alexander, all very close to the imperial palace. Nightfall brought some relief as weariness took over but the following morning the Hippodrome was once more packed with a fractious, screaming mob, audible to the gathered and frightened council.
The demands of the rioters’ leaders were discussed. Flavius was present in his capacity as magister but did not seek to participate, merely to observe. The mob insisted on the removal of John the Cappadocian, of Tribunianus and Eudaimon, all of which, to the dismay of Flavius, his councillors advised Justinian to consent. The temptation to step forward and damn this as unwise was strong; no good would come of seeking to placate a mob, it had to be resisted, but he saw the feeling was so strong in favour he knew he would not change minds.
There was, however, one action he could initiate himself and he left for a brief moment and collared his old comrade from the Excubitors, Domnus Articus. ‘I need you to send a message to Solomon to bring the bucellarii within the walls. Justinian needs protection. Send word to my comitatus as well.’
‘The city regiments?’
‘Have not moved and nor will they, in my opinion, which is a blessing, for with the Greens and Blues united they would be more of a danger than an aid.’
‘The Excubitors will do their duty.’
‘I don’t doubt it, Domnus, but you might be too few.’
The proof that concessions only feed a mob was proved when Justinian returned to the imperial box to address them, offering to grant an amnesty to those who had misdeeds to their name, including their still condemned leaders. Having seen their previous demands met the crowd yelled him down and vocally called for a new emperor, naming Probus the nephew of Anastasius as their candidate, which rendered the presence of the incumbent superfluous.
Justinian re-entered the palace, his first demand being that both Probus and his cousin Hypatius leave the city. Never a man noted for his bravery and well aware of how fickle a crowd could be — mobs who create emperors can just as easily destroy them soon after — Probus immediately did as he was ordered, which resulted in the burning of his house.
But the rioters found a less than swift Hypatius trying to flee and took him as a virtual prisoner, escorting him to the Hippodrome where in the absence of a crown they declared him emperor by placing a gold necklet on his head, the news of this quickly conveyed to the imperial council chamber, causing Justinian to lose his nerve.
The mob were against him and it transpired that, despite the claims of Domnus Articus, the Excubitors had decided their best course in this crisis was inaction — to neither aid nor hinder the man they were tasked to protect, which implied that powerful forces, senators and perhaps some of those dismissed officials, were conspiring with the rioters.
There was a fast galley waiting in the private palace harbour and the notion was to get to the imperial armies in Thrace and seek their aid. If Flavius had mixed opinions of Theodora, they were tempered now as she stepped forward to address not only her husband but those gathered to counsel him, in a voice as strong as it was passionate.
‘Run? To where? Wherever we go will we not face the same? We will be found and if not killed be dragged back to be torn limb from limb by that mob in the Hippodrome. Those who have worn the crown rarely survive its loss and I have no wish to see the day when I am not saluted as Empress. If we are to perish, Husband, let it be standing and facing those who would harm us, not skulking off like thieves in the night. Remember the old saying. Royalty is a fitting burial shroud.’
‘Your men are in the Excubitor barracks, Flavius Belisarius,’ whispered Domnus Articus, who had sidled into the antechamber as Theodora was declaiming to pass this on. ‘Also, Mundus has fetched his Heruls, three hundred in number. I am with you too.’
The aid of such a fine warrior, a Gepid nobleman and magister militum per Illyricum, was very heartening yet it would be foolish to think the odds to be substantially altered.
‘We may all die, Domnus.’
‘A soldier’s fate.’
The arrival of Narses, the elderly eunuch who had at one time been Flavius’s commander, threw another voice into the discussion and had some positive information to impart. He had gone into the Hippodrome carrying a bag of Justinian’s gold with which to bribe the Blues, also reminding them that both Justinian and Theodora were supporters and that Hypatius was an enthusiast of the opposition.
He could now definitely report that the mob were not as united as they had once been. Many of the Blues were aware that things had gone too far and they certainly did not want Hypatius as emperor. He had distributed the gold as gifts to those more inclined to waver, with promises of more from Justinian. They were now slipping in groups out of the Hippodrome to go to their homes.
‘So most of those remaining will be Greens,’ he concluded, ‘and also those who relish in making trouble, whatever the grounds.’
The sound of studded boots on marble floors had Flavius pulling out his sword. Normally forbidden in the presence of the Emperor it had seemed to him sensible to be armed. He relaxed as Solomon and Mundus appeared, fully armed. Justinian was looking at Flavius with something approaching fear, his eyes darting between the face and the weapon. Was he about to be betrayed by one of the few people in whom he reposed trust?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Observing that look of fear offended Flavius and some of that feeling was in the nature of his less than respectful explanation, the fact that neither the city regiments nor the Excubitors could be relied upon and that this being so he had thought it wise to bring the men he had led in battle into the city to join his personal guard.
‘On your own word, without seeking permission.’
‘Sometimes it is necessary to act without that.’ Justinian looked at Mundus, far from reassured. ‘Mundus has brought his men as well, because he is loyal, as I am, to your person, though I think you must thank Solomon for his presence.’
Theodora spoke up, the voice unfriendly. ‘And what, having done that, do you recommend, Flavius Belisarius? You have yet to offer any advice and I have never before known you shy of telling us what is right and what is wrong.’ Her black eyes narrowed and the tone changed to one of sly innuendo. ‘Perhaps you have your own reasons to have the bucellarii to hand at such a time.’
Tantamount to an accusation of perfidy Flavius responded with scant respect for her rank. ‘He is not only my friend, Lady, he is the Emperor to whom I have sworn allegiance.’
Eudaimon asked for and was granted permission to speak: removed to satisfy the mob he had not yet been replaced as urban prefect. ‘We must take control of the city.’
It was Flavius who replied, earning a black look from Theodora. ‘We do not have the means. The city regiments may well oppose us, but if we can capture Hypatius that could remove the focus of the revolt.’
‘We must consider whether that will that not make matters worse?’
Justinian got a look from his wife then that made him blench, though her words, carefully calculated not to diminish him, belied the feeling behind them. ‘How much worse can it get? I have already said I will not run away, so if I am to die, let it be here and let it be soon.’