‘I don’t quite see what all this has to do with Constantinople,’ put in Justinian.
John rolled his eyes impatiently. ‘Give me strength. Aethiopia is Christian, thus entitled to the protection and support of the Christian Roman emperor. So Aethiopian control of Arabia Felix effectively means Roman control of the straits.’
‘Forgive my obtuseness,’ objected Valerian, clearly nettled by the other’s abrasive manner. ‘The Aethiopians are Coptic Christians, I believe — Monophysites, in other words. Which makes them heretics. So why should Rome support them? Also, you mentioned “Roman control of the straits”. Just why is that so important?’
‘Within the empire, Monophysites may be heretics; but outside it — well, we can’t afford to be too nice in our discriminations.’ John spoke slowly, in the tones of a schoolmaster explaining a point to a not-very-bright pupil. ‘Not if we hope to extend Rome’s influence, and build alliances beyond her frontiers. As for the importance of Roman control of the straits — I’d have thought that was blindingly obvious. But as that doesn’t appear to be the case, I suppose I must endeavour to — ’
‘Uncle,’ interrupted Justinian, with uncharacteristic heat, ‘Do we have to put up with this fellow’s rudeness? I wouldn’t have thought a little basic courtesy was too much to expect.’
Justin shifted in his chair and smiled uncomfortably. ‘It’s just his manner, nephew, nothing personal; he even speaks to me like that. Try to overlook his bluntness, if you can. I tolerate him because his advice is invariably excellent, and given without fear or favour.’ He turned to the other. ‘John,’ he went on, in conciliatory tones, ‘try to remember that Flavius Justinianus is a favoured member of my household, and that Valerianus Comes is a serving Roman officer with a distinguished record. A little tact wouldn’t come amiss.’
‘I’ll try to remember that, Serenity,’ responded John, inclining his head in mock humility. ‘To continue, gentlemen,’ he went on in tones of exaggerated politeness, ‘Roman control of the straits is important to us for two reasons. Strategically, a Roman foothold in Arabia could enable us to counter Persian influence there, while a friendly Aethiopia could in time perhaps become what used to be called a “client kingdom”, paving the way for imperial expansion in eastern Africa. Rome may have lost her Western provinces, but who’s to say she can’t extend her power to the south and east — the realms of Prester John and Alexander? Just a thought.
‘Commercially, the straits are also of enormous significance, commanding as they do the sea-routes both for spices from the Indies and silk from Serica.* Spices — essential for preserving autumn-killed meat throughout the winter. Silk, though not an article of general consumption, is of considerable importance in Roman society as a prestige possession — a badge of rank, a reward for merit. We mustn’t forget that silk and spices are important not just to Rome, but to Rome’s Eternal Enemy, Persia. Technically, we may be at peace just now. But there exists between the two powers a state of what I think we can fairly describe as “cold war” — especially on the trading front. As Persia commands the land routes, it can, at will, block supplies of silk and spices from reaching the Roman Empire. Which is why maintaining Roman control of the sea-routes is vital.’
‘And that control has now been threatened,’ put in Justin. ‘This Dhu-Nuwas that John mentioned is a prince of the Himyarites — a Jewish community in southern Arabia. Like the many other Jewish groups throughout the peninsula, it enjoys special Persian protection. In this “cold war” that John speaks of, a Jewish bloc in Arabia is useful to Persia, because it will naturally oppose the formation of any Christian — i.e. Roman-backed, regime. Hence Dhu-Nuwas’ invasion of Arabia Felix, and expulsion of its Aethiopian garrison.’ He turned to John. ‘I think that’s more or less the picture?’
The latter nodding his agreement, the emperor continued, ‘I’ve had a direct appeal, via Timothy the Patriarch of Alexandria, from Ella Atsbeha, the king of Aethiopia — or Negus of Axum, as he styles himself — for help in restoring the status quo ante.’ The briefing having now shifted from the sphere of high politics to a straightforward military one, Justin sounded briskly confident. ‘What I propose is this: that a Roman army be sent to Aethiopia, there to join forces with the Negus’ troops in a great expedition to recover Arabia Felix.’ The emperor turned to Justinian and smiled. ‘The post of Magister Militum per Orientem — Commander of the Army of the East — can become vacant, if you wish to fill it.* How does the idea of taking over, with a view to spearheading the Roman side of the expedition, appeal to you? Your friend Valerianus here, could be your second-in-command.’
Striving to conceal his alarm, Valerian tried to read his friend’s reaction: suprise, then gratification chased each other across Justinian’s features. Valerian’s heart sank as, after a longish pause, Justinian replied in a slightly awed tone, ‘I–I’d be honoured to accept, uncle. What can I say? — except to express my humble gratitude.’
‘You’ve earned it, nephew,’ said Justin warmly. ‘Without your help, and that of John here, I’d never have managed to run the Roman Empire.’
Undeniably true though Justin’s tribute to his nephew was, Valerian reflected, he felt that in accepting command of the eastern army his friend was making a profound mistake. Insofar as he possessed a gift of inspiring devoted loyalty in others, Justinian displayed undoubted leadership. But while he might be a superb administrator, he was, in Valerian’s opinion, no man of action — although clearly, from what had just transpired, he saw himself fulfilling such a role. That, Valerian was convinced, was self-deception — a state of mind usually attended by hubris. His friend’s experience of soldiering had been purely ceremonial; how would he rise to the challenge of leading an army in remote and no doubt difficult terrain, in conjunction with semi-savage tribesmen, against an enemy whose power and resources could only be guessed at? During their long friendship, Valerian recalled, there had been pointers indicating a potentially dangerous failure of nerve in moments of crisis on Justinian’s part: the incident with Nearchus from their student days, and his reaction, now three years ago, when first he learned that his uncle had been named for emperor. Well, provided not too many unforeseen complications developed, Justinian might just carry things off without mishap, Valerian supposed. And besides, he himself would be there at his friend’s side, to advise and assist.
Or, it could all go horribly wrong — like Crassus’ disastrous Parthian adventure centuries ago. The Roman financier and politician had fancied himself in the role of general, with fatal consequences for himself and for the men he led. However, no purpose would be served, Valerian decided, in telling his friend he should never have accepted the command. That would only be to sow a seed of doubt which could erode his confidence, in circumstances which called for steadfastness of purpose above all else.
Two days after the Roman force reached Gondar, the Negus (Negusa Nagast za-Ityopya, King of Kings of Aethiopia, to give him his full title) arrived at the city with part of his army — ten thousand lean, hawk-nosed warriors, armed with spears and swords, and carrying rawhide shields. A formal meeting then took place between the Roman leaders and the Negus and his entourage. The Negus, Ella Atsbeha, was, thought Valerian, an impressive figure — a tall young man with aquiline features and an air of natural dignity, which alone marked him out from his retinue. His clothing, a robe not unlike an old-fashioned Roman toga (a garment now only worn by senators), was, save for a broad red stripe along the border, identical to theirs. Justinian, arrayed in the full panoply of a Roman general with muscle cuirass and bronze-studded pteruges,* greeted the king graciously, assuring him (through interpreters) that, as a Friend of Rome, he could count on the Empire’s help in restoring Arabia Felix to Aethiopian rule. His friend seemed in his element, Valerian noted approvingly: gracious, cordial, almost regal in deportment, he was clearly creating a most favourable impression on the king and his followers. Perhaps, after all, he had misjudged Justinian and all would be well. So far, his friend’s behaviour couldn’t be faulted; on the march Justinian had projected a persona of calm composure, being invariably friendly, cheerful, and considerate towards the troops, who clearly adored him — a seeming second Caesar, another Alexander. But then, Valerian reflected, he hadn’t yet been tested.