Flame of the West (9 page)

  
I cleared my throat, which was dry as dust from long hours of riding without pause.

  
“Sir, Narses has arrived in Italy with seven thousand men. He landed at Ancona and made camp outside the city. I – we – suspect that he and John the Sanguinary are in league together.”

  
Belisarius was no stranger to court intrigues and sudden vicissitudes of fortune, but this took him aback. His long, pale features turned an alarming shade of grey, and for a moment he swayed on his feet, like a tree buffeted by storms.

   Procopius
hastened forward with a chair. Like a man in a dream, Belisarius slowly lowered himself into it. Outside, the bells of the smaller churches and basilicas inside the city started to toll, summoning the faithful to prayer.

   “
Betrayed,” he muttered, clawing weakly at a map of central Italy, “the Emperor has betrayed me. In the very moment of victory, when I have the Goths on the run, he sends the eunuch to slide a knife into my back.”

   He placed his elbow on the table and rested his forehead in the
palm of his hand. His jaw clenched. For a moment I thought he might start weeping. An embarrassed silence fell inside the nave of the basilica. The assembled officers and subalterns studiously avoided each other’s eyes.

  
“John holds Rimini,” Belisarius said slowly, staring at the table, “by now, the Goths will have laid siege. He is shut up there, and cannot get out. So we may forget him for the present. Narses is at Ancona, or was. You know nothing of his plans?”

   “No, sir,” I replied, “I briefly spoke with him, but he said nothing of importance.”

   Hildiger might have corrected me, but chose to remain silent. Belisarius looked like a man on the verge of breaking. Being informed that his Emperor – the Emperor he had served so loyally and successfully, for so many years, constantly fighting and winning against the odds – had indeed lost faith in him, and sent Narses to poison his glory, might have tipped him over the edge.

   Belisarius
gathered himself. “So Narses has come to challenge me, has he?” he cried, “to frustrate my plans and feed the suspicions of the Emperor. Well, I shall go to meet him, and make him welcome in Italy. With a helmet on my head, a sword in my hand, and fifteen thousand men at my back!”
   He no longer sounded tired, and his voice rose to a shout.

   “
Italy has witnessed battles between Roman armies before, and shall do so again, if Justinian’s favourite dares to stand against me. Let Narses throw in his lot with Vitiges. Let my enemies join against me. I shall chastise them all!”

   Seized with new energy, Belisarius ordered his army to break camp and marched that same day. I had never seen him driven by such anger before. He pushed his troops mercilessly, force-marching them north-east, right across the plains of central
Italy. Some fifty miles lay between us and Ancona, and Belisarius was determined to snare the eunuch before he could slip away. 

  
The Goths, meanwhile, were left to reduce Rimini at their leisure, and make Ravenna virtually impregnable. I thought it insane that the Romans should allow their enemy such a respite, but it was ever thus: the history of the Roman Empire, and the Republic before it, is littered with destructive civil wars. Julius Caesar himself had to defeat Pompey and other rivals before he made himself dictator of Rome.

   Belisarius sent a troop of Huns ahead to look for Narses and his army. They returned with news that Narses had raised his camp at
Ancona, and marched south along the coast to the town of Fermo.

  
“You will have to run faster, little rabbit,” Belisarius remarked grimly, “if you mean to elude me. Fermo, is it? Does his fleet await him there?”

   No, came the reply, there were no ships in the harbour. Belisarius looked puzzled, but immediately despatched orders for the army to turn east, straight towards Fermo.

   Fifteen thousand horse and foot hurried across the countryside, bypassing numerous towns and villages and small farms. Most of the occupants fled in terror at the sight of our banners, but we left their settlements untouched. The army was well-supplied with provisions, and Belisarius kept driving us on at a furious pace.

  
Fermo is a pretty little town on a hill overlooking the Adriatic coast. It lay on the junction of roads leading to several Roman towns, making it an important strategic location, and had once been the permanent home of the Fourth Legion.

   The legion no longer existed, but Fermo was still important
, and commanded a spectacular view of the sea and the surrounding countryside. Narses had chosen his new headquarters well, and spotted our advance from several miles off.

  
He sent a party of officers to greet us on the western road. They were all smiles and good fellowship, and greeted Belisarius like a conquering hero, smothering him with compliments on his recent victories.

  
Belisarius was having none of it. “Save your flattery,” he barked, “and tell me this. Does your master hold Fermo against me?”

   Their leader looked shocked. “Against you, general? Why would you say that? He holds the town for you, and for
Rome.”

  
“Then he will have no objection to opening the gates, and allowing my troops into the town.”

   “None, sir. He is waiting to greet you now, and has set aside food and accommodation for your men after their long march.”

   Belisarius remained suspicious, and marched on Fermo in full military array, as though he meant to storm the place.

  
However, the gates stood open, and the soldiers on the battlements cheered and blew trumpets in celebration of our arrival.

   “If there is treachery he
re, it is well-hidden,” said Procopius, who had managed to snatch a moment away from the general, “watch your back, Coel, and keep that old sword close by your side.”

   “I always do,” I replied
.

   Our vanguard rode through the streets, with Belisarius at the head, surrounded by his Veterans.
He wore his golden parade armour, making him an easy target for any archers lurking on the rooftops, but there were no assassins in Fermo.

   Narses was too subtle for that. He received Belisarius at the governor’s mansion,
and invited him and his chief officers – and me – to dinner. Belisarius brusquely refused and demanded an immediate council of war instead.

   “Of course, general,” said Narses with one of his bland smiles, “whatever you wish. You are in command, after all.”

   I expected the council to be a difficult affair, with Narses blocking the designs of Belisarius at every turn, but all went smoothly. Every officer present agreed on the necessity of relieving Rimini, and deplored the folly of John the Sanguinary in refusing to give it up.

   Narses attempted to defend the actions of his friend, against those who called for his arrest and trial. “John is young and rash,” he said, “and eager to prove his worth. Too eager, perhaps. He was only recently entrusted with a major command, but he has great ability. We should not be too harsh on him.”

   “Harsh?” shouted Hildiger, “the little turd refused a direct order, and threatened to shoot me into the bargain.”

   He appealed to Belisarius, sitting at the head of the table. “Sir, are we to tolerate this sort of behaviour from mere subalterns? In the days of Trajan, he would have been flogged to death before the assembled legions. How we have fallen away in these latter days. Leniency breeds insubordination!”

   Some
cried approval of this, including myself, but Belisarius looked wary. He was already out of favour with the Emperor, and might fall further from grace if he punished John as the man deserved. On the other hand, if he let him off, he risked losing the respect of loyal officers like Hildiger.

  
He dealt with the issue by avoiding it. “Enough of this wrangling,” he said firmly, “our priority is the relief of Rimini. Our combined forces will march on the city and engage Vitiges without delay. I will deal with John the Sanguinary once the Goths are defeated.”

   “I am not a military man
,” piped Narses, folding his hands on his little paunch, “but I can count. We have twenty-two thousand men. Even taking their recent losses into account, the Goths still outnumber us over two to one. It seems folly to engage them in the open.”

   Belisarius regarded him with undisguised loathing. “You think I mean to charge the enemy head-on, like a bull at a gate? I daresay you would derive much amusement from that – at seeing my head mounted on a Gothic spear, eh?”

   Narses looked affronted. “Not at all. I pray for nothing but your continued success. We fight in the same cause, Flavius.”

   The tension between the two was almost palpable. Belisarius could have broken the twisted little man’s neck with ease, but Narses s
howed no sign of fear. He was in total control, reclining in his specially raised chair and toying with the rings sparkling on his plump fingers.

   Every other officer present remained silent, waiting for the game of wills to play itself out.

   “Have you any suggestions to make?” asked Belisarius. His words echoed in the high, vaulted roof of the council chamber, where long-dead Roman governors had once feasted until they were sick.

  
Narses spread his hands. “Not really. Though it strikes me that Vitiges, for all his undoubted valour, is easily fooled. He succumbed to your every stratagem during the siege of Rome.”

   “Perhaps,” he mused, lifting his eyes to the ceiling, “he can be
fooled again.”

   Belisarius eyed him narrowly before responding. “I had something of the sort in mind. Where is the fleet that carried you to
Italy?”

   “Still docked at
Ancona. It was a rough voyage, and the admiral needed time to repair and refit his ships.”

  
“Send a message to Ancona and order the fleet to sail here immediately. We will split the army in three. One shall embark aboard the ships under the command of Hildiger, and sail back up the coast. I shall lead the main body through the Appenines towards Rimini.”

   He turned and pointed his long arm directly at me. “Coel shall lead the third detachment.
These men will march along the Flaminian Way at night, carrying heaps of timber. When you arrive within sight of the Gothic camp, I want you to light fires, as many as possible. The fires will deceive Vitiges into thinking a great army is advancing on him from the south.”

  
There was a faint murmur of approval around the table, though I was also conscious of jealous glares. Belisarius was publicly favouring me again, this time giving me command of a significant portion of his army.

  
The mere thought filled me with terror. I desperately wanted to refuse, but he had placed me in a situation where I dared not. Decline in front of my fellow officers, many of whom could only dream of such an opportunity? It would have been interpreted as rank cowardice, and an insult to the general. 

   “Thank you, sir,” I said, though my bowels were dissolving, and placed my hands under the table to hide their trembling.

   Of all those present, I believe only Narses guessed my true feelings. I was unwise enough to glance at him, and he gave me a sly wink.

   “W
e shall close on Rimini via land and sea,” said Belisarius, “Hildiger, when you see the fires lit, you will disembark and attack the Gothic camp from the east. At the same time I will lead an assault from the south. Coel will advance in support. If John the Sanguinary is half the soldier he pretends to be, he will see the battle in progress and sally out with his cavalry. The Goths may have the numbers, but they lack discipline and composure. When they realise they are caught between four fires, panic and confusion shall do our work for us.”

  
“Another great victory for Rome!” squeaked Narses, clapping his hands together, “I salute you, general, and all your brave officers.”

   He filled his cup and raised a toast, to which all reluctantly responded. My cup shook in my hand, and the wine tasted like sourest vinegar.

11
.

None of his captains would serve under me, so Belisarius despatched Procopius to guide my steps and ensure I did nothing foolish. The general’s secretary was no soldier, but intelligent and learned, and had learned something of war from following his master on campaign for so many years.

   My detachment was mostly light cavalry, with an infantry esc
ort for the wagons carrying piles of dry timber, hay and brushwood. We advanced after nightfall, following the Flaminian road that eventually arrived at Rimini.

  
To the east, the lights of our fleet glimmered in the darkness. The ships carried two thousand men under the command of Hildiger. Belisarius had left before me, taking his fifteen thousand east, towards the ridge of the Appenines.

   I rode at the head of our column,
feeling foolish and overdressed in my fine armour.