He sat up straight. “Yes! That’s what we need. We need to launch such a project, to ferret out the secret of the Malwa weapons.”
“How?” asked Antonina.
Belisarius pursed his lips. “Two things, it seems to me, are paramount. We need to find a man who can lead such an effort, and we need to set up a place where he can work.”
Cassian cleared his throat. “I may have a solution. The beginnings of one, at least. Are you acquainted with John of Rhodes?”
“The former naval officer?” Belisarius shook his head. “I know of his reputation as an officer. And that he resigned under a cloud of disgrace, of some sort. Other than that, no. I have never met him.”
“He resides in Aleppo, now,” said Cassian. “As it happens, I am his confessor. He is at loose ends, at the moment, and quite unsatisfied with his situation. The problem is not material in nature. He is rather wealthy, and has no need to fret over mundane things. But he is very bored. He is a quick-thinking man, with an active spirit, and he chafes at his current idleness. I believe he might very well be willing to assist us in this project.”
“What if he is recalled to service?”
Anthony coughed. “That is, under the circumstances, quite unlikely.” Another cough. “He has-well, you understand I may not betray the confidentiality of confession, but let us simply say that he has offended too many powerful figures on too many occasions for there to be much chance of him ever regaining his position in the navy.”
“Moral turpitude?” demanded Michael.
Anthony looked down, examining the tiles of the floor with a keen attention which the plain, utilitarian objects did not seem to warrant. “Well, I suppose,” he muttered. “Again, I must remind you of the confid-”
“Yes, yes,” said Michael impatiently, waving his hand in a manner which suggested that he regarded the confidentiality of confession with as much esteem as he regarded manure.
“Let me simply say that-” Anthony hesitated, unhappy. “Well, John of Rhodes’ naval career would have progressed more smoothly, and not ground ashore on a reef, had he been a eunuch. He is a raffish character, even now, in his forties. He finds women quite irresistible and, alas, the converse is all too often true.”
“Marvelous,” growled Michael. “A libertine.” The raptor examined a particularly distasteful morsel of decayed rodent. “I despise libertines.”
Belisarius shrugged. “We must work with what we have. And with what little time we have. I cannot stay here long. I expect a conflict with Persia will be erupting again, soon, and I have much to do to prepare my army. I will have to leave for Daras within a week. So, whatever it is we are going to do, if it involves me, will need to be started immediately.”
He looked to Cassian.
“I think your suggestion is an excellent one. Approach this John of Rhodes and feel him out. We need to examine the problem of these strange weapons, and he seems as good a place as any to start.”
“What if he agrees?” asked Cassian. “What, precisely, are we asking him to do?”
Belisarius stroked his chin. “We will need to create a workshop, somewhere. An armory, of sorts. A- weapons project. And, if we have any success in uncovering the secret of these weapons, we will need to recruit and train men who can use them.”
“A question,” interrupted Antonina. “Should we tell this John about the jewel?”
The four people in the room looked at each other. Belisarius was the first to speak.
“No,” he said firmly. “At least, not until we are certain he can be trusted. But, for the moment, I think we must keep the knowledge to ourselves. If word begins to spread too quickly, there’ll be an uproar about witchcraft.”
“I think we must tell Sittas, also,” added Antonina.
“Yes,” agreed Belisarius. “Sittas must be brought fully into our confidence, as soon as possible.” He picked up the jewel. “ Fully. ”
Michael frowned, but Cassian nodded. “I agree. For many reasons. The war we are about to launch will be waged on many fronts, not all of them military. There are many enemies within the ranks of Rome, also. Some, within the Church. Some, within the nobility and the aristocracy.” He took a deep breath. “And, finally, there-”
“Is Justinian.” Belisarius voice was like iron. “I will not be false to my oath, Cassian.”
The bishop smiled. “I am not asking you to be, Belisarius. But you have to deal with some realities, also. Justinian is the Emperor. And, whether for good or ill, is enormously capable. He’s no fool to be led around by the nose, and no indolent layabout to be safely ignored. And he’s also, well, how shall I put it?”
Antonina answered. “Treacherous, suspicious, envious, jealous. A conspirator who sees conspiracy everywhere, and who is firmly convinced that all the world seeks to do him harm.”
Cassian nodded. “Ironically, we are not seeking to do him harm. Rather the contrary. We are seeking to preserve his empire, among other things. But, in order to do so, we will need to conspire behind his back.”
“Do we?” asked Belisarius.
Cassian was firm. “Yes. I know the man well, Belisarius-much better than you, actually, even though you share Thracian ancestry. I have spent many hours with him in private conversation. He attends every council of the Church, you know, and participates fully. Both in the formal discussions and then, in private, with many of the leading theologians of the Church. Though I rank only middling high in the hierarchy of the Church, I rank very high in the esteem of theologians. And Justinian, as you may know, thinks he is quite the theologian himself.”
He stroked his beard. “Actually, he is quite good at it. Justinian’s own theological inclinations are excellent, in truth. In his heart, he leans toward a compromise with heresy and a tolerant policy. But his cold, ambitious mind leans toward a close tie to severe orthodoxy, given his ambitions in the west.”
“What ambitions?” demanded Belisarius.
Anthony was surprised. “You don’t know? You, one of his favorite generals?”
There was a rare bitterness in the general’s crooked smile, now.
“Being one of Justinian’s favored generals does not make him a confidant, Anthony. Rather the reverse. He is shrewd enough to want capable generals, and then suspects the use that capability would be put to. So he tells his generals nothing until the last moment.”
Belisarius waved his hand. “But we are getting side-tracked. Later, I would be interested in hearing more from you regarding Justinian’s western ambitions. But not now. And you are mistaking my question. I was not asking if we needed to keep our conspiracy secret from Justinian. Obviously, if we conspire, we must do so. The question is: do we need to conspire at all? Can we not simply bring him into our confidence? For all Justinian’s obvious faults, he is one of the most capable men who ever sat upon the imperial throne.”
Antonina drew in a sharp breath. Cassian glanced at her and shook his head.
“No. Absolutely not. Justinian must know nothing. At least, not until it is too late for him to do more than simply acquiesce in what we have done.” He made a rueful grimace. “And, then, we will have to hope he doesn’t remove our heads.”
Belisarius seemed still unconvinced. Cassian pressed on.
“Belisarius, have no delusions. Suppose we told Justinian. Suppose, further, that he accepted all that we told him. Suppose, even-and here I tread on fantastical ground-he did not suspect our motives. What then? ”
Belisarius hesitated. Antonina answered.
“He would insist on placing himself at the head of our struggle. With all of his competence. And with all of his pigheaded stubbornness, his petty vanities, his constant intrigues, his overweening pride, his endless petty meddling and fussing, his distrust of anyone else’s competence as well as loyalty, his-”
“Enough!” cried Belisarius, chuckling. “I am convinced.” He laced his fingers together and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. Again, the simple tiles received an unaccustomed scrutiny.
Cassian’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Are you familiar, Belisarius, with India? Or you, Antonina?”
Antonina shook her head. Belisarius, still gazing absently at the floor, shrugged and said:
“I know a bit about that distant land, from hearsay, but I have never even met-”
He stopped in midsentence, gasping. His head snapped erect.
“What am I saying? I know an enormous amount about India. From my vision! I spent thirty years in an unending struggle against India. Against the Malwa tyranny, I should say. And I always had the shrewd advice of Raghunath Rao to fall back on.” His face grew pale. “God in Heaven. Anthony, you are right. We must conspire, and
