Justinian raised his eyes, caught his breath at the sight of the vast dome high above, appearing, just as Anthemius had said it would, to float in air — ‘as though suspended by a golden chain from Heaven’. A sense that he had touched the Infinite, the Transcendental, overcame the emperor. Through these mute stones, he felt, God was assuring him that he was indeed His Chosen One, as Theodora was divinely authorized to be his helpmeet. His doubts and fears evaporating like the mists of morning on the Bosphorus, Justinian fell upon his knees and whispered, ‘Solomon — I have surpassed you!’
* The version we possess today.
* To refresh the reader’s memory: the Chalcedonians believed that Christ had two natures — human and divine (the view accepted by Orthodox Catholicism), while the Monophysites held that Christ had only one nature — divine.
* 29 March 537.
* Then situated where Apulia — the ‘heel’ of Italy, is today; Calabria is now the ‘toe’ of Italy — anciently Bruttium.
PART IV
TWENTY
As far as may be advantageous to the public service
From the citadel of Ancona — Italy’s chief seaport on the Adriatic and recently captured from the Goths* — Belisarius looked down on the vast semi-circular harbour into which were sailing the transports conveying a fresh army under the command of General Narses. Belisarius supposed he ought to feel delighted by the prospect of yet more reinforcements, but admitted to himself that he had mixed feelings. The arrival of John the Sanguinary with his Isaurians and Thracians in November of the previous year had completely altered the tactical situation, tilting the scales decisively in favour of the Romans. Witigis’ lines of communication had been threatened when, on Belisarius’ orders, John had seized Ariminum,** south of Ravenna, the Goths’ capital, and a chain of fortified positions had been established across the Apennines, protecting Roman gains in the south of the peninsula, also the vital route from Rome to the Adriatic. As a result, Witigis had been forced to abandon the siege of Rome and withdraw his army (a shadow of the mighty host that had invested the place a year before, thanks to disease and endless sorties by Belisarius’ crack cavalry) to the Gothic heartland of the Padus valley. The coming of thousands more Roman troops (they were actually Heruls, from the same Germanic tribe that had supplied Mundus with his force at the crushing of the Nika revolt) meant putting an additional strain on the local Italian population, regarding billeting and feeding. And the presence of another senior commander in the shape of Narses, a man much older than Belisarius and standing high in the favour of Justinian, was not entirely welcome, raising as it did the possibility of a challenge to his authority, with the concomitant risk of dividing the command.
What did he know of Narses? Belisarius asked himself. Not much, beyond the fact that he was an Armenian and a eunuch (castration was illegal in the Roman Empire; Narses hailed from the Persian zone of Armenia), and had a reputation for steadiness and reliability. Belisarius recalled that he had met the man briefly when, in the aftermath of Nika, Narses had done a quietly efficient job patrolling the streets to ensure that the insurgency did not flare up again. As for the Heruls he now commanded, they were notoriously troublesome and insubordinate, refusing to obey any officers bar the ones they were accustomed to. Still, there was no point in anticipating trouble where none might actually exist. Determined to put a positive face on things, Belisarius set off down the hill towards the waterfront to welcome the new general, whose fleet was even now dropping anchor beside Trajan’s Mole, the immensely long breakwater constructed in the reign of that emperor more than four centuries before. .
In the auditorium of the citadel’s Praetorium, where Belisarius had summoned a council of war, the staff of the two generals were assembling. Belisarius had called the meeting, firstly to plan the next stage of the campaign against Witigis, secondly as a means of introducing Narses to Belisarius’ own officers, and giving the other a chance to express any views that he might have.
After extending a formal welcome to the newly arrived general, Belisarius advanced to the front of the auditorium and faced his audience. With a pointer, he traced on a large easel-mounted map of Italy a line from Rome north-east across the peninsula to Ancona. ‘This, gentlemen, is our present front line. To the south of it we have cleared the land of Goths, so half of Italy is in our hands. We are now in a very strong position, one which enables us to launch a major push against the enemy. My plan is this: we move forward slowly, taking stronghold after stronghold — Sena Gallica, Urbinum, Pisaurum, et cetera.* An iron frontier too strong for the Goths to break through, creeping relentlessly north to pen them at last into their heartland of the Padus plain. Then we will close in for the kill.’
A murmur of approval swept round the chamber, accompanied by a nodding of heads.
‘What about old “Blood-and-Guts”, sir?’ asked a fresh-faced tribunus.
‘John the Sanguinary, you mean?’ laughed Belisarius. ‘Well, he’s still in Ariminum. But with Witigis pulling back towards the north, he’s now dangerously exposed; in fact Witigis’ advance troops have already begun to invest the town. I’m about to order John to withdraw to the safety of Ancona, while he still can.’
Narses stood up: a slight, delicate-looking figure with fine-drawn Armenian features, as unlike the popular stereotype of the plump, sly eunuch as it was possible to imagine. ‘With respect, General, I think that would be a mistake.’ Though he spoke quietly, Narses projected an air of unassuming certainty that commanded the close attention of all present.
This was the first time that Belisarius had been flatly contradicted by a fellow officer, and he felt at a loss as to how to respond. Up till this moment his charisma and breezy confidence had always proved enough to carry others with him. To be put in a position where he must defend and justify his decisions was a new and disconcerting experience. ‘Perhaps, General, you could explain,’ he replied, in as polite a tone as he could muster.
‘Your plan, insofar as it goes, is sound enough,’ conceded Narses. ‘But with respect, it lacks imagination. Also boldness — a quality without which no campaign was ever won.’ His gaze swept the chamber, establishing eye contact with his audience. ‘With John in Ariminum,’ he went on, ‘you have established an excellent forward position — a marker, if you like, for future gains.’ His voice dropped, which somehow had the effect of heightening the urgency and conviction of its tone. ‘My Heruls have a name for it: Blitzkrieg — Lightning War! It depends on forward momentum — flying columns moving rapidly ahead of the main force, which follows, occupying the territory thus claimed before the enemy can rally his resources. If we let the Goths have Ariminum, we surrender what would be a key advantage.’
A collective buzz of enthusiasm showed how completely Narses had captured the interest of his hearers.
‘Blitzkrieg’, thought Belisarius, in bewilderment tinged with resentment. The Armenian was talking a different language to himself, strategically speaking. It was ironic, he thought, that he, Belisarius, with a reputation for dash and elan, should find himself accused of lack of boldness. By instinct, he was all for swift attack, of taking the battle to the enemy. But in the past year he had learned, through hard-won experience, that the Goths, unlike the Vandals, had huge powers of resilience, recovering rapidly from reverses that at the time had seemed crushing. Hence his present policy of consolidating gains made before risking further moves against the enemy.