‘Do not doubt that I wish for such an outcome, Valentinus.’
‘Then how can it be achieved if it is not attempted?’
The smile that came with the response took any implied criticism out of the words and soon these men were joined by Bessas, long in the service of Flavius, as well as Martinus and Valerian, newly arrived with their foederati. It was in no way a revolt but a discussion among men whose views were always welcome, albeit one pressed home with more than a normal emphasis until Flavius summed up with the aim of giving himself time to think.
‘As of this moment I cannot say yes and I will not say no.’
Standing, he indicated that today’s conference was over and most present filed out of the chamber, only Bessas staying behind at the silent request of his general.
‘How much of this comes from the soldiers?’ Flavius asked, aware that if they were unhappy none had imparted that to him.
‘I have never known fighting men not grumble.’
‘Me neither, but there are grouses that can turn into mutiny.’
‘You have no fear of that, Magister, but I would say an army that merely sits behind walls, as does the mass of the men you lead, will not stay content. What Constantinus said about the Roman citizens is true as well. If they do not see our men winning these skirmishes with ease they hear of it and talk, then wonder why the city is still under siege.’
‘There’s barely a trained man amongst them.’
‘There’s no shortage of a thirst for a fight from what I can hear.’ Bessas suddenly looked sly. ‘You’re not telling me you have not considered this as a course to adopt?’
‘I have, obviously. We cannot beat Witigis by sitting on our arses and you know as well as I that holding Rome is only part of a campaign that must end in Ravenna. We are here to inflict a full defeat on the Goths and that cannot become even possible unless they lose outside Rome. But the timing, Bessas?’
‘Thank the Lord it is not for me to decide.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
The thought of a decisive battle, never in truth far from his thoughts, played strongly on the mind of Flavius over the following days and he deliberately sought the views of the junior officers, those in closer contact with the troops. Thanks to past campaigns he knew many by name, and if few were as frank as they might be, what he heard indicated a degree of frustration: the Goths had ceased attacking the walls and too many were not the kind of soldiers he could employ in his hit-and-run tactics.
Being idle made them restless and that had begun to manifest itself in a spate of criminality, not anything out of control but a series of individual thefts or beatings that went right against the edict regarding respect for the local population, which had been an abiding tenet of Flavius ever since he first exercised command. What was the point of alienating people you may in future depend upon, especially if they were citizens of a city your emperor wished to rule?
Retribution, when a miscreant was apprehended, was swift and brutal; a rapid public hearing at which he presided and if proven guilty an immediate rope or a beheading. In one case, the rape of a young girl who had declined to leave the city, Flavius handed the perpetrator over to the citizens to do with as they wished and the man was brutally quartered, an act he hoped would strike enough fear into his own men as to cap any further transgressions.
In this judicial role he was obliged to have dealings with the important Romans – he had to accept that here in their city he and his men were Byzantines – given it was they who demanded justice. Flavius, always accompanied by Procopius, had been careful to consult with such men from the very first day of the occupation, eager to convey the impression that he was acting in the best interests of both Constantinople and Rome, regular meetings that took place in the building that housed the Roman Senate.
That body still gathered to debate as it had since the days of the Republic, even if it was a sham, as much as its namesake in Constantinople. There the Emperor made the decisions; in Rome it was the heads of the various clans, the leaders of the families who had for many decades controlled the city, oligarchs who sought for themselves the most lucrative offices, sinecures to be fought over in a morass of competing political aims, convenient alliances and endemic duplicity.
The most powerful groups had their less puissant clients, men who knew which way to vote to gain favour and profit. Such clans also employed armed retainers, while exercising control over the criminal cliques that lorded it in the various urban districts, associations that could always be relied on, when the needs of their overlords were unsatisfied by political negotiation, to either riot or intimidate.
The other source of power in the city lay with Pope Silverius, who in terms of wealth controlled more coin than even the collective senators. Rome had been for two centuries now a destination for pilgrims, many threadbare individuals but a goodly number of wealthy magnates in search of salvation. Every one, high and low, brought their gifts to the city where St Peter had founded their faith.
Was it the Pope who pressed for action, given that in a city under attack those revenues had dried up? A lifetime of observation had told Flavius that divines, whatever creed they ascribed to, cared as much for their coffers as the needs of their flock, too many times the former taking precedence. Had Silverius been whipping up discontent for his own venal ends while staying in the background?
However it had come about, the men he faced now were under pressure from a dissatisfied citizenry, keen to impress on Flavius their willingness to partake in the defence of their city, though not one of them even hinted at any personal involvement. Their volunteer cohorts, they insisted, would be a match for the Goths, a point of view that flew in the face of all previous experience: the same barbarians had encountered little difficulty in ruling the city, both lay and ecclesiastical, with a small garrison, so their claims sounded like vainglorious boasting.
Flavius suspected any untrained levies Rome fielded would be more of a hindrance than a help. Yet employ them he must, if only to keep these puffed-up politicians as well as Silverius on side, they collectively being as capable of causing him difficulties as providing his army with support.
Procopius was sure that some were secretly in touch with Witigis, even if he was himself a man they had once betrayed. Fail to heed their requests and they might undermine the entire defence of the city, though Flavius made a point of originally demurring before allowing himself to be persuaded. That way he flattered them.
‘My friends, I find my doubts assuaged and I am humbled by the strength of your feeling for the cause to which we all ascribe.’ He made a point of looking at the bishop Silverius had sent as a representative. ‘And does not your presence tell us of a divine will that it would be blasphemy to deny?’
The faces before him, hitherto full of eager persuasion, began to relax, while the bishop sought to look suitably virtuous. Glances were exchanged between them to ascertain they had heard right, answered with nods, this as Flavius underlined his point.
‘I have long considered when the time would be ripe to seek to fully defeat the Goths and you will be pleased to know I feel it is close at hand. To show that I have confidence in the men on whose behalf you have pleaded, when we move out to confront Witigis, I will employ them as a body and allot to them an important place in my plan of battle.’
Happy murmurs and smiles greeted this statement, which they took to mean an equal share in any plunder of the Goth camps. If they had seemed puffed up prior to what had been said they seemed to fill with even more conceit as the meaning sunk in: their levies were, militarily, to be treated as equals.