‘You served your king well?’
The word ‘king’ was the clue to a sharp thinker, a long-serving courtier with a bureaucrat’s mind. ‘I would hope if he were present he would say so, and that would apply to the man Gelimer replaced.’ Bonifatius crossed himself, which was not the Arian way. ‘May Hilderic’s soul rest in peace, for he was a good man.’
‘I have taken over responsibility for the governance of what is now an imperial province.’
‘In mere months. Who would have thought it possible?’
‘Perhaps God,’ Procopius sneered.
‘It is to him we look for wisdom,’ came the calm reply.
‘There will be occasions, Bonifatius, when in dealing with those we now rule, matters arise that require a knowledge of how the province was previously governed.’
‘I would see it as my duty to aid the peaceful transfer of power so that as little harm comes to those for whom I care as it does to my own body.’
‘And if I was to offer you a chance to bring that about?’
‘I could not bring myself to reject such a blessed opportunity, for God would never forgive me.’
‘The ship?’
‘Is anchored to the west in a shallow bay, awaiting my return.’
‘Which you will make in my company, Bonifatius.’ Sensing the bodily tension to one side, Flavius added, ‘As, of course, the man who must make an inventory of what we find.’
‘Flabbergasted’ is a word that can only rarely be applied but it was apposite when the holds of the ship were opened and the numerous chests were brought on deck and opened. Not only were there objects of gold and silver studded with precious stones, there were chests of coin enough to pay for the whole expedition Justinian had initiated. Then there were the relics of Christian martyrs looted from churches and abbeys all through Gaul, South-west France and Hispania, more than enough in these alone for Gelimer to buy from the Visigoths a life of ease.
Procopius was tasked with the listing of the totals, with Flavius questioning Bonifatius about which object would be of most personal worth to Gelimer? The surprise came in the form of the bones of St Sebastian, looted from the Vandal sacking of Rome, now encased in a golden casket and personally venerated by the now deposed king.
Flavius put together a strong party from his comitatus led by Boriades — he could not risk their loss — with orders to take the casket to Pharas at Medeus, where it could be shown to Gelimer as proof that his last hope, to escape to Hispania and be in possession of enough treasure to mount a reconquest of the Vandal kingdom — Flavius was sure that would have been his intention — was no more.
Pharas had sat idly watching Medeus for weeks now, knowing that with no food getting in and none of the inhabitants getting out he was engaged in a war of attrition, a siege in which starvation would bring a result. It was a situation that did not suit him and was anathema to his Heruls, who saw the chance of slaughter and plunder in front of their eyes, albeit they needed to be raised to have sight of the city perched on a rocky outcrop, while they sat and cooked their food, drank their wheaten beer and told tales of Germanic bravery and deeds of heroism.
Unable to stand it any longer, Pharas mounted an assault and it was a total failure in terms of penetration. He lost a high proportion of his effectives — either killed or so seriously wounded as to be rendered useless — and was left once more staring up at the formidable fortified city, his frustration now double that which it had been before. In his heart he prayed that Flavius Belisarius would realise that this was not war to his Heruls and that he needed to be relieved.
The sight of the troop of his general’s comitatus, unmissable in their distinctive uniforms, cheered everyone who saw their approach until it dawned on them there were no more and that these were never going to be enough to take over the burden. Being Arians, the sight of the relics impressed them, but that did not translate into what they thought a solution.
‘Our general wishes you to show this casket to Gelimer.’
‘You can show it to him, Boriades. I lost a hundred men against those walls. I was about to send to Flavius Belisarius to ask for more and enough so we could be employed elsewhere.’
‘Then I require a truce flag.’
‘What makes you think they’ll respect one? They are Moors.’
Boriades let that pass; to Heruls no other tribe, even a Germanic one, was worthy of trust. He had his own men fashion a cloth of white and he made his own way on foot up the steep mountainside followed by two of his men carrying the heavy casket, which was covered to keep it hidden. Being a Latin speaker he had no trouble in getting one of Gelimer’s supporters to the walls, if not the man himself, who declined to treat with a mere officer of his main enemy.
The first message was that Flavius Belisarius should come himself if he wished to talk of the terms of a Roman surrender, a jest that had laughing all of Gelimer’s men who heard it. Boriades was up to trading jests; he replied that if surrender was on offer, Gelimer should take it from a pauper, if need be.
‘Which he now is.’ That got a curious look from a face which required a steep craning of the neck to see. ‘Now that we have his treasure ship and Bonifatius too.’
‘You speak in riddles.’
Which led Boriades to suspect that the transport was a secret Gelimer had not confided to even his closest adherents, his personal guard, men who had stayed loyal to him in disaster and would probably die to protect him. A poor reward that would be for such service.
‘I speak to you, but I have, now, need to speak with Gelimer.’
‘King Gelimer!’ came the angry response and not from the man Boriades was addressing.
‘I ask only that he comes to the battlements and looks. No words need be exchanged that impinge upon his dignity.’
There was a hiatus, Boriades waiting while he could hear but not see the murmuring of a conversation filled with dispute. The battlements were only the height of two men while the gathering of people was on the wooden fighting parapet. Odd that it seemed that one voice was arguing both positions.
Eventually a new face appeared but there was no speaking. Never having seen Gelimer, Boriades had no idea if it was really him, yet there was no alternative but to assume it to be the case. He called forward his two troopers and whipped the cover off the casket, that producing a gasp. Then he had it opened to reveal the relics laying on their velvet lining. After a wait he then shut the lid and recovered it as the head disappeared.
‘That is a message from Flavius Belisarius who wishes Gelimer to know that, should he surrender, no harm will come to him, a pledge made on the bones of Saint Sebastian.’
More murmuring followed and the man with whom he had originally spoken leant over to talk. He insisted that as a king, Gelimer could only treat with someone whose rank did not insult his standing. Being told that the general was too busy in organising the new imperial province to make such a journey led to proposals made and offers rejected until it was agreed that the two should communicate by letter.
Told he would have to remain until this was complete, Pharas was far from happy. It took weeks of missives flying to and fro until the terms were agreed, and under a strong escort Gelimer was escorted from Medeus to Carthage, there to join all the other Vandals who had surrendered.
The war was over and it had taken six months to subdue a kingdom that had stood for a hundred years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Other problems required to be solved: the Balearic Islands had been a Vandal fief and they had to be secured for the empire, the man sent to effect the takeover, Hilderic’s representative to Constantinople. But the most pressing difficulty lay in Sicily and the city of Lilybaeum, which lay at the very western tip of the island and had been a Vandal possession that Flavius now claimed for the empire, this dismissed by Amalasuintha on behalf of her son. Much correspondence ensued with no one giving ground, so the final suggestion was that the matter should be referred to Justinian to arbitrate.