Calopodius was startled into silence.
"You didn't know? My son is almost eleven years old, and quite literate. And since he is the Emperor of Rome, even if Theodora still wields the actual power, he insists on reading them to the Senate. He's very fond of your dispatches. Told me in his most recent letter that they're the only things he reads which don't bore him to tears. His tutors, of course, don't approve."
Calopodius was still speechless. Again, Belisarius laughed. "You're quite famous, lad." Then, more softly; almost sadly: "I can't give you back your eyes, Calopodius. But I can give you the fame you wanted when you came to me. I promised you I would."
The sound of his pacing resumed. "In fact, unless I miss my guess, those Dispatches of yours will someday -- centuries from now -- be more highly regarded than your official history of the war." Calopodius heard a very faint noise, and guessed the general was stroking his chest, where the jewel from the future named Aide lay nestled in his pouch. "I have it on good authority," chuckled Belisarius, "that historians of the future will prefer straight narrative to flowery rhetoric. And -- in my opinion, at least -- you write straightforward narrative even better than you toss off classical allusions."
The chair scraped as the general resumed his seat. "But let's get back to the problem at hand. In essence, your marriage was arranged to lever your family into greater respectability, and to provide the Melisseni -- discreetly, of course -- a financial rescue. How did you handle the dowry, by the way?"
Calopodius shrugged. "I'm not certain. My family's so wealthy that a dowry's not important. For the sake of appearances, the Melisseni provided a large one. But I suspect my father loaned them the dowry -- and then made arrangements to improve the Melisseni's economic situation by linking their own fortunes to those of our family." He cleared his throat. "All very discreetly, of course."
Belisarius chuckled drily. "Very discreetly. And how did the Melisseni react to it all?"
Calopodius shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Not well, as you'd expect. I met Anna for the first time three days after my father informed me of the prospective marriage. It was one of those carefully rehearsed 'casual visits.' She and her mother arrived at my family's villa near Nicodemia."
"Accompanied by a small army of servants and retainers, I've no doubt."
Calopodius smiled. "Not such a small army. A veritable host, it was." He cleared his throat. "They stayed for three days, that first time. It was very awkward for me. Anna's mother -- her name's Athenais -- barely even tried to disguise her contempt for me and my family. I think she was deeply bitter that their economic misfortunes were forcing them to seek a husband for their oldest daughter among less illustrious but much wealthier layers of the nobility."
"And Anna herself?"
"Who knows? During those three days, Anna said little. In the course of the various promenades which we took through the grounds of the Saronites estate -- God, talk about chaperones! -- she seemed distracted to the point of being almost rude. I couldn't really get much of a sense of her, General. She seemed distressed by something. Whether that was her pending marriage to me, or something else, I couldn't say."
"And you didn't much care. Be honest."
"True. I'd known for years that any marriage I entered would be purely one of convenience." He shrugged. "At least my bride-to-be was neither unmannerly not uncomely. In fact, from what I could determine at the time -- which wasn't much, given the heavy scaramangium and headdress and the elaborate cosmetics under which Anna labored -- she seemed quite attractive."
He shrugged again. "So be it. I was seventeen, General." For a moment, he hesitated, realizing how silly that sounded. He was only a year older than that now, after all, even if ...
"You were a boy then; a man, now," filled in Belisarius. "The world looks very different after a year spent in the carnage. I know. But then -- "
Calopodius heard the general's soft sigh. "Seventeen years old. With the war against Malwa looming ever larger in the life of the Roman Empire, the thoughts of a vigorous boy like yourself were fixed on feats of martial prowess, not domestic bliss."
"Yes. I'd already made up my mind. As soon as the wedding was done -- well, and the marriage consummated -- I'd be joining your army. I didn't even see any reason to wait to make sure that I'd provided an heir. I've got three younger brothers, after all, every one of them in good health."
Again, silence filled the bunker and Calopodius could hear the muffled sounds of the artillery exchange. "Do you think that's why she was so angry at me when I told her I was leaving? I didn't really think she'd care."
"Actually, no. I think ..." Calopodius heard another faint noise, as if the general were picking up the letters lying on the table. "There's this to consider. A wife outraged by abandonment -- or glad to see an unwanted husband's back -- would hardly be taking these risks to find him again."
"Then why is she doing it?"
"I doubt if she knows. Which is really what this is all about, I suspect." He paused; then: "She's only a year older than you, I believe."
Calopodius nodded. The general continued. "Did you ever wonder what an eighteen-year-old girl wants from life? Assuming she's high-spirited, of course -- but judging from the evidence, your Anna is certainly that. Timid girls, after all, don't race off on their own to find a husband in the middle of a war zone."
Calopodius said nothing. After a moment, Belisarius chuckled. "Never gave it a moment's thought, did you? Well, young man, I suggest the time has come to do so. And not just for your own sake."
The chair scraped again as the general rose. "When I said I knew nothing about the details of your marriage, I was fudging a bit. I didn't know anything about what you might call the 'inside' of the thing. But I knew quite a bit about the 'outside' of it. This marriage is important to the Empire, Calopodius."
"Why?"
The general clucked his tongue reprovingly. "There's more to winning a war than tactics on the battlefield, lad. You've also got to keep an eye -- always -- on what a future day will call the 'home front.' " Calopodius heard him resume his pacing. "You can't be that naпve. You must know that the Roman aristocracy is not very fond of the dynasty."
"My family is," protested Calopodius.
"Yes. Yours -- and most of the newer rich families. That's because their wealth comes mainly from trade and commerce. The war -- all the new technology Aide's given us -- has been a blessing to you. But it looks very different from the standpoint of the old landed families. You know as well as I do -- you must know -- that it was those families which supported the Nika insurrection a few years ago. Fortunately, most of them had enough sense to do it at a distance."
Calopodius couldn't help wincing. And what he wasn't willing to say, the general was. Chuckling, oddly enough.
"The Melisseni came that close to being arrested, Calopodius. Arrested -- the whole family -- and all their property seized. If Anna's father Nicephorus had been even slightly less discreet ... the truth? His head would have been on a spike on the wall of the Hippodrome, right next to that of John of Cappadocia's. The only thing that saved him was that he was discreet enough -- barely -- and the Melisseni are one of the half-dozen most illustrious families of the Empire."
"I didn't know they were that closely tied ..."
Calopodius sensed Belisarius' shrug. "We were able to keep it quiet. And since then, the Melisseni seem to have retreated from any open opposition. But we were delighted -- I'm speaking of Theodora and Justinian and myself, and Antonina for that matter -- when we heard about your marriage. Being tied closely to the Saronites will inevitably pull the Melisseni into the orbit of the dynasty. Especially since -- as canny as your father is -- they'll start getting rich themselves from the new trade and manufacture."