And then, just when it seemed that things could get no worse, the emperor himself became infected by the plague. Justinian was hardly popular. Many recalled with bitterness the harsh government policies which had provoked the Nika riots, and the brutality with which these had been suppressed. And the tax burden to sustain the wars in Africa, Italy, and Persia had borne heavily on almost everyone. But as Roman emperor, who was also Christ’s vicegerent upon earth, he was seen by Roman citizens as their champion against the forces of evil and barbarism that constituted an ever-present threat to the survival of the Empire. In allowing the pestilence to strike down their emperor, had God withdrawn His favour from the Romans? And if this could happen to Justinian, the highest in the land, then what hope was there for anyone? If scent could be an attribute of prayer, then the odour of the orisons arising for the safety of their emperor would have overwhelmed the stink of rotting corpses from across the Golden Horn.
With Justinian confined to a sick-bed and expected to succumb, to Theodora devolved the running of the Roman world. A woman distracted by grief over the death of a lover she adored, concerned for a husband gravely ill, and inexperienced in the conduct of high politics, now found herself in charge of an empire extending from Atlantic to Euphrates, from the Alps to Aethiopia, and numbering (prior to the pestilence) perhaps a hundred million souls.
From Procopius Caesariensis, Chronicler, to Anicius Julianus, Senator, greetings.
Dear ‘Cato’, friend in Libertas, although I have heard nothing from you in all the time since Ravenna fell to Belisarius (ending what has turned out to be only the first phase of the Gothic War), I allow myself to hope and trust a) that you are safe and in good health, and b) that I may soon hear from you again in your capacity of head of Libertas, now that Totila is sweeping all before him. Assuming both will prove to be the case, I shall inform you of those matters relevant to the Cause which I am competent to comment on that have transpired since last we corresponded. Much of what I have to tell you I daresay you’ll have heard about already, but to insure against lacunae I shall omit nothing of substance.
Justinian unfortunately did not die (his death from pestilence would have made Libertas virtually redundant!), but during the months that he was sick Theodora, bless her, inadvertently gave our Cause a tremendous boost. How? By emasculating Belisarius, the one man who could have stopped Totila! (The plague having spread to Persia, Khusro suspended hostilities with Rome, thus ending the need for B’s presence on that front.) Allow me to elucidate.
As very few recover from plague (this visitation is estimated to have killed 300,000 in Constantinople alone — a third of the capital) everyone assumed Justinian was going to die. So it was only common sense on Belisarius’ part, as one of the Empire’s movers and shakers, to plan ahead against developments arising from the emperor’s demise. Having (quite rightly) little faith that Theodora would make a sensible choice of successor, he let it be known that the appointment of an emperor could only happen with the concurrence of himself and the army commanders — otherwise there would be a very real risk of civil war. Of course Theodora, the silly bitch, who can only ever see things from a personal point of view, construed this as an insult and proceeded to confiscate B’s fortune, dismiss his corps of personal retainers, and all but have him flung in gaol (which is what she did to poor old Buzes, B’s second-in-command).
Even after he turned the corner healthwise, Justinian had to convalesce and let Theodora carry on as regent. With Belisarius available but in disgrace, the emperor, lacking the guts to contravene Theodora, was forced to send his original choice, Maximinus, to Italy in order to sort out Totila. Well, although a disaster for Justinian, Maximinus proved a perfect gift for us. An indecisive ditherer, he let Totila run rings round him, allowing the Goths to capture Naples, thus giving Totila a port and power-base of immense strategic value for the whole of southern Italy.
By this time, Justinian had recovered sufficiently to take up the reins of power once again. Finding at last the courage to override Theodora, he reinstated Belisarius (much to the empress’ chagrin), recalled the hapless Maximinus, and despatched B. (with yours truly in tow) to Ravenna to try to rectify the situation in Italy. Predictably, our wise and far-sighted emperor had neglected to provide the general with sufficient troops or supplies to achieve anything, forcing B. to appeal to J. for reinforcements, and to the Romans to abandon their allegiance to Totila and come over to his side. A plea which, in view of the ‘benefits’ conferred by Roman reoccupation, needless to say fell on deaf ears. While B. cooled his heels waiting for reinforcements to arrive, Totila was able to take the last few fortresses in central Italy and go on to besiege Rome itself.
Meanwhile, you’ll be interested to know, while my superior was fuming impotently in Ravenna, I contrived to stir things up in Africa again. Via my contacts in the diocese, I persuaded Guntarith — a Roman general of Vandal origins (whose troops, surprise, surprise, were in arrears of pay) — to combine with rebel Moorish chiefs to mount an insurrection against Roman rule. Knowing you’ll honour my pledge when you resume command of Libertas, I took the liberty of promising to back any revolt with funds. I’m pleased to say they took me at my word, with the result that Artabanus, Magister Militum in Africa, now has his hands full with mutinying soldiery and Moorish insurgents. As for the war in Italy, I’ll spare you the details — a dreary catalogue of sieges, counter-sieges, sorties, and manoeuvrings, the consequence of Belisarius taking to the field again as a result of his long-awaited reinforcements eventually arriving. Suffice to say that the campaign is taking a terrible toll on the civilian population and the land itself, with many areas reverting to uncultivated waste, and starvation becoming endemic. (The plus side of all this misery, from our point of view, is that it’s fast turning Justinian into a hate figure.)
I’ve saved the best till last. Again, as a result of promises of payment on my part, via contacts inside Rome, I persuaded a unit of Isaurian soldiers (minus pay, as usual) to open the Porta Asinaria.* In rushed the Goths and, I’m pleased to report, the Eternal City is now in Totila’s hands.
In full confidence that I will hear from you ere long, I shall leave this at our old collection-point at Cecilia Metella on the Via Appia, for your agens to pick up. (This, I imagine, is what you would expect me to do, assuming me to be in the vicinity of Rome with Belisarius.) Vale.
Written at Portus** XIII Kalendas Januarii, in the year from the Founding of New Rome the two hundred and seventeenth.†
Post Scriptum
My cover, by the way, seems rock-solid. At the height of his sickness, I was summoned by the emperor who told me that he wished to reward those who had stood by him at moments of crisis. (I suppose he was thinking — ha! ha! — of my ‘services’ during the Nika affair.) He said (speaking in a dreadful croaking whisper) that after the war, when my services as official historian could be relinquished, he would make me Prefect of Constantinople. Or, should he die, he had left instructions as to my promotion. I confess that I was touched, also that I felt almost sorry for the old fox to see him lying there — a wasted skeleton, like one of those hideous things in the catacombs of Rome. I was also, being in close proximity to one of its victims, absolutely terrified of catching the plague. But you can’t ignore an imperial command. Theodora too (who, to her credit, had nursed him faithfully throughout his sickness) looked at death’s door — hollow-eyed and ravaged from worry, also lack of sleep — and, this is just guesswork on my part, perhaps some hidden malady that was sapping her constitution.