Justinian

would only take a leader of sufficient charisma to unite them, and then. .’ The senator smiled, and shook his head. ‘Once, we thought the Huns too primitive to be taken seriously. Then along came Attila, and look what happened.

‘But I digress.’ Julianus refilled their goblets and went on, ‘Some of us who love Rome have, as you know, for you were briefly involved, joined together in a movement called Libertas, dedicated to the overthrow of Justinian’s regime** and its replacement by a constitutional government. One which will respect the rights of every Roman citizen, rights to be safeguarded by the people’s representative body — the Senate — from whose ranks will be drawn a Council, to advise the emperor: both ancient institutions which Justinian, in his overweening arrogance has virtually abolished. Moreover, he who wears the purple will do so only subject to the approval of the Senate, the Army, and the Church. Thus it will be impossible for any such as Justinian ever again to rule the Empire.’

‘It all sounds very noble, Senator,’ responded Procopius. ‘But with the crushing of Nika, Justinian’s firmly back in the saddle. He won’t easily be unseated, I think.’

‘Perhaps not; but we must try. At present, thanks to Nika’s failure, Libertas is seriously weakened, its members dispersed and demoralized. What we all share however, are determination and commitment. Also, we intend to keep in touch, through correspondence and intermediaries, with myself as co- ordinator — leader, if you like. So concerted policy and planning can still be carried on.’

‘I don’t quite see — ’

‘- how you fit into this?’ Julianus looked keenly at the other. ‘You could be invaluable to Libertas. You are close to the emperor — a trusted confidant, in fact. When he embarks on his invasion of the West, it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to persuade him to involve you in the expedition.’

‘In what capacity?’

‘Oh, I don’t know — observer, go-between; i/c. commissariat; an intelligent young fellow like yourself will think of something. May I take it you’d wish to continue your association with Libertas?’

‘Perhaps. Depends what’s in it for myself.’ The lawyer shrugged self-deprecatingly. ‘Don’t misunderstand me, Senator, I admire what Libertas is trying to do. It’s just that I’m maybe not so altruistic as your other members.’

‘Well, at least you’re honest.’ Julianus smiled wryly, and topped up their goblets. ‘What I would ask of you is this: once Justinian’s Western campaign gets under way, that you send regular reports to myself or my agents, apprising Libertas of the situation as it stands. Also, you will receive instructions periodically regarding spying, sabotage, acting as an agent provocateur, generating misinformation, et cetera. Such things call for nerve, coolness, and initiative — all qualities that you possess, as you amply demonstrated during your short time with us. In addition, you will be given, on an ad hoc basis, information regarding contacts, drop-off points for messages or letters, safe houses, and the like. Your services will be rewarded by a generous fee from central funds, plus bonuses when merited; most of us, being of senatorial rank, are wealthy, although some will shortly become considerably less so — thanks to confiscations in the wake of Nika. Anything you can do to destabilize Justinian’s Western campaign will help to weaken his authority, thus assist in paving the way for his removal. Well, Procopius, what do you say?’

‘When do I start?’

‘Consider yourself on the payroll as of now.’ Smiling, Julianus handed the other a small but heavy bag, that chinked invitingly. He raised his goblet. ‘To Libertas.’

‘To Libertas.’

Arriving at the base of the arena’s marble wall, beneath the podium, Procopius looked up at the seated figure — a massively built man with a great shock of tawny hair.

‘The Roman, Procopius, Highness,’ called out the guide. Turning to the young historian, he announced, ‘Duke Ammatas, Domine, brother of King Gelimer.’

The whole mise-en-scene was a childish piece of stage-management on the Vandal’s part, thought Procopius with irritation. It was designed to emphasize Ammatas’ superior status, and put the Roman on the back foot in any negotiation. Craning his neck in order to address the other face to face, and putting on a false smile, he declared, ‘Greetings, Highness; in pursuance of prior arrangements to hold this meeting, I would respectfully tender the following request. That in return for Hun help to enable the Vandals to defeat their Roman enemy, you agree to pay Aigan here — captain of the Huns in the army of Belisarius Comes — the sum of one thousand pounds weight in gold, half to be paid now, the remainder following a successful outcome of hostilities.’

‘Ho! ho! — you seek to chaffer like a housewife in the market?’ boomed Ammatas. ‘Well, Roman, two can play at that game. One thousand pounds? One hundred is surely what you meant to say.’

Gritting his teeth, Procopius joined the other in the tedious process of haggling, knowing full well that an intermediate amount would anyway be agreed upon — eventually. After what seemed an interminable period, the bargaining (conducted in sweltering heat) was concluded, the amount of gold agreed on handed over, and broad tactics regarding the coming encounter discussed. Ammatas and his Vandals then exited the podium, while Procopius’ party returned to the entrance of the tunnel (which opened into the passage leading to the Door of Life — the gateway into the arena for performers and wild beasts).

With Aigan’s Huns bowed beneath sacks of coin, the little procession retraced its steps along the dank and dripping shaft, lined with massive ashlar blocks positioned there by Roman engineers three centuries before, when Alexander Severus ruled a yet undivided Empire. Emerging from the tunnel at the coast, the party transferred the load to waiting mules, then unobtrusively rejoined Belisarius’ army camped nearby.

* The spectacular (and spectacularly well-preserved) Roman amphitheatre at El Jem in eastern Tunisia — the third largest in the Roman world.

* An observation confirmed by Ammianus Marcellinus in Book 31 of his The Histories.

** See Appendix IV: Procopius — Fifth Columnist?

FIFTEEN

Set up in the reign of the Emperor Flavius Valerius Constantinus; Pious,

Noble Caesar; from Carthage ten miles

Inscription (conjectural, based on ones typical of the period) on the tenth milestone south of Carthage, c. 330

With the heat of the fierce African sun tempered by a cool sea breeze blowing from the Mare Internum* to its right, the army marched north along a stretch of glorious sandy beaches. Inland, these were fringed by waving clumps of esparto grass topped by graceful feathered seed heads, beyond which olive groves and fields of wheat rolled to the horizon. High overhead, the first migrating birds of early autumn — storks, geese, finches and many other species — speckled the bright blue sky, bound from Europe for the lands beyond the Great Sand Sea.

Walking their horses to the top of a rise, Belisarius and his second-in-command, Dorotheus, a fellow Thracian, looked down on the long cavalry column winding its way below them: horse-archers and lance-armed foederati,** mailed cataphractarii, the general’s personal corps of retainers or bucellarii, Hun mercenaries — stocky, skin-clad men with yellowish complexions and flat Oriental faces, mounted on huge ill-conformed brutes, and armed with deadly recurved bows. Miles to the rear, appearing as a multitude of crawling dots, came the infantry.

A rapidly approaching cloud of dust to the fore announced the imminent arrival of a scout. Minutes later, the man drew rein before the two officers. ‘Vandals!’ the man panted. ‘Vanguard’s only two miles off.’

‘But those Hun outriders told us the enemy was at least a day’s march distant!’ exclaimed Dorotheus to his