What followed was a sharp drop of the head from the handsome but dust-covered patrician, an acknowledgement, albeit a reluctant one, that any dent to the authority of Flavius Belisarius was now repaired. It would be he who would now order future sorties and those he chose to lead his men would have to show more in light of today’s events.
Witigis was forever probing for weakness and knew that which was the most potent was still aiming to starve out Rome, given the city yet had a huge number of souls within its walls. In order to disrupt the supplies coming from Antium through Ostia he built and heavily manned a fort at Portus that dominated the route, effectively cutting the city off from its main source of food.
Soon there were major shortages and that acted on the mood of the citizenry, who, even under less elevated leadership, demanded that he take them out again to fight and defeat the Goths before they expired of hunger, a request brought to Flavius by the present Bishop of Rome.
‘I have been bitten once, Pope Vigilius, I will not be so again. I require you to calm this furore.’
The newly appointed pontiff replied with studied calm. ‘With what, my son?’
‘Tell them there are reinforcements on the way in numbers to drive Witigis from their walls.’
‘I am bound to ask, Flavius Belisarius, if that is wishful thinking or the truth?’
Flavius had to bite his tongue. His own faith was strong but from his earliest years he had observed the kind of men who officiated within the Christian faith and only rarely had he been impressed. The first bishop ever encountered had been a thoroughly evil man, a thief to his flock as well as an aggressive pederast.
If he had since encountered good and honest men they had been rare and not elevated. No one, as far as he could discern, rose high within the ecclesiastical hierarchy without leaving their soul somewhere on the slippery pole by which they had ascended to prominence. He had no reason to think Vigilius any different.
‘You are the Bishop of Rome and they are fearful for their souls. If you say it is so they will believe you and as of this moment that is what is required. I need time to find a way to best the latest moves Witigis has made and get food into the city.’
Flavius was irritated by the amused look on the face of Procopius, who knew only too well what this exchange implied. He too had a low opinion of churchmen and the notion that the one before him was seeking to avoid, not so much a lie as a touch of exaggeration, clearly tickled him.
‘You wish me to use my authority to calm the fears of my flock even if I cannot be sure that what I say to them will come to pass? Would that not imperil my soul?’
Such a bald statement rendered Flavius uncomfortable; Vigilius was driving home that if he complied it would be done as a favour. Thankfully, before he was obliged to respond in a positive manner the cleric turned to another subject entirely.
‘By the by, the last convoy of supplies brought a message from Constantinople.’
‘It brought several.’
‘The one to myself and the church was to inform us that Silverius is to be returned to Rome. Justinian wishes that the claims made against him be investigated, which can only mean he is unsure of their veracity.’
Slightly stunned by that news, Flavius could imagine the hoops Justinian must have been obliged to jump through with his wife, who was not one to be easily swayed from any course she had decided to adopt, which probably explained why Vigilius knew of the return before he had been informed. The man before him was her appointee and that position would obviously be under some threat; if Silverius was found to be free of guilt he had the right to reassume his papal office.
The disenfranchisement of Silverius must have caused uproar in Constantinople, a deeply religious city in which imperial interference in church matters was always risky, putting Justinian under so much pressure he felt he had to defy Theodora. The amount of venomous abuse that had exposed him to could only be guessed at. If the thought had its amusing side it also presented to Flavius a difficulty; his emperor was landing the problem right back in his lap and he did not want it.
‘That being the case, Magister,’ Vigilius added, in a silky tone, ‘I ask that Silverius be judged for any perceived crimes by those that are qualified to do so. He is a priest and should be examined by the bishops of the Roman Diocese.’
‘You feel that will serve?’
‘It is not fitting that a lay person should question one who so recently held my office.’
It was a grateful Flavius Belisarius who agreed to that, it being, he felt and for numerous reasons, too hot a stone for him to handle. He only realised that he had done the required favour when Vigilius was quick to hand him his reward, an assurance that he would do his best to calm the passions of the citizens who looked to him for guidance.
‘What are you grinning at?’ Flavius barked, at a still smiling Procopius, once Vigilius had departed.
‘He’s a wily bird, General, he must be to have impressed the Empress.’
‘So?’
‘Beware of what games he might play.’
‘That is of little account,’ came the snapped reply. ‘I must get as many troops from the southern provinces as can be released and you are the only person I can spare to undertake such a task. We need to strip the garrisons and get them where they will be of use. And while you are in the south find out, for the sake of the Lord, if Justinian has sent me any more soldiers, or am I to beat Witigis with defrocked popes!’
CHAPTER NINE
Sending Procopius south had been the stated object but to get him safely to where he needed to go, armed with all the authority of the man he served, required that he leave the city in darkness and secretly as well as in a manner that reflected his importance. Flavius provided his secretary with a very strong escort, for not only was his mission vital but he was a man the army commander, more than any other, feared to lose, given he fulfilled several functions.
He was the senior and trustworthy bureaucrat who could be relied on to set up the administrative bodies required to control conquered territory. These skills had first been proven in campaigns against the Sassanid empire and doubly so in North Africa, so much so that he had become like an extension of his master’s power. Treated by the inferior commanders as an equal, no one dared to condescend to him.
He was also a foil to the Belisarius temperament, which in matters political – and they were as vital as anything military – could sometimes be a touch wayward, too brusque and martial in areas requiring subtle tact. Corresponding with the likes of Justinian through the filtered and able mind of his secretary stopped Flavius from inadvertently causing any dent to the imperial pride.
The other function Procopius fulfilled was just as vital; high command can be lonely and if there was Photius to talk with, he was a youth, not yet well enough versed to act as a sounding board. A man utterly committed to him and one not swayed into indiscretions by flattery, Flavius could talk to Procopius about matters in which discretion was vital.
If he strayed occasionally into areas outside his bureaucratic duties that was acceptable too, for his counsel, though not always correct, was never foolish or based on self-aggrandisement. He was committed to Flavius in a way that was unusual in its totality, which was the reason Antonina insisted it was based on something other than mere loyalty and admiration.
In sending him on what was, in truth, a military mission, there was sound common sense: Procopius would act only on the wishes of his master. Despatch one of his generals and they might see a chance to act, if only for a short time, for themselves. Constantinus, who was certain he had every right to be given the duty, was naturally upset at what he saw as a blow to his prerogatives and self-esteem.
That led to an open and very vocal argument, something Flavius had been very careful to avoid hitherto, and even then he could not say what he wished to, that he lacked trust in a man who was always bound to act independently and seek a little personal glory at a time when Rome was in peril. It was necessary to quite sharply remind him who commanded and who obeyed, with the obvious rider being that if he was unhappy he should take his complaints to Constantinople.