Justinian

bitch. Well, we’ll see about that. Come my birthday, I intend to tell her she is no longer regent, and musht make way for me. I trust I may count on your support.’ He paused and looked muzzily around the table. ‘I therefore ask you all to drink: to my acsheshun. . accession.’

Goblets were dutifully drained — except by one venerable greybeard, whom the king unfortunately spotted.

‘Hildebrand — you did not drink!’ accused Athalaric, his face whitening. ‘You, who were my grandfather’s cup-bearer. You wouldn’t have refused to toasht. . toast Theoderic, I think.’

‘You, Sire, are no Theoderic,’ declared the old man bluntly.

‘You dare to speak to me like that!’ screamed the king. Turning to Cassiodorus he declared, a note almost of pleading entering his voice, ‘Tell him I am worthy to be king.’

‘Italy is fortunate indeed, to have as ruler a descendant of the great Theoderic,’ replied the other smoothly.

‘You see!’ shouted Athalaric, unaware of the prefect’s careful ambiguity. ‘Even Cashiodorus — a Roman — thinks that I should shit. . sit upon the throne. By God Hildebrand, you will drink, you. . you insolent dotard.’ And moving down the table, he grabbed the elder by the nose. Forced to open his mouth in order to breathe, the old man was unable to prevent Athalaric from spilling some wine into it.

‘Now, leave our presence,’ demanded Athalaric, setting down a half-empty goblet. ‘You are hereby banished from our court — forever.’

Red-faced and spluttering, Hildebrand nevertheless exited the hall with dignity, an embarrassed silence spreading in his wake.

Awkward and stilted at first, conversation gradually picked up as a harpist began to sing of great deeds by Gothic heroes, and a stream of rude plenty — mainly dishes of beef, pork, and venison — flowed in from the kitchens. (Conspicuous by their absence were elaborate Roman dishes such as flamingoes’ tongues with mullets’ livers, or sows’ udders in tunny sauce.) Toast followed toast, in heavy Roman wines unmixed with water. In contrast to the king, who invariably refilled his goblet, most of the guests, after a time, contented themselves with sipping sparingly each time a health was drunk.

After several hours, with the torches guttering in their sconces and several guests slumped asleep, their heads resting on the boards, Athalaric, cheeks flushed and eyes bloodshot, rose unsteadily to propose a final toast. ‘To my beloved mother — Amalashuntha,’ he mumbled incoherently. ‘May she rot in hell.’ Suddenly, he staggered, the goblet slipping from his fingers, and with a loud cry crashed backwards to the floor. Immediately, a doctor was summoned; arriving within minutes, he knelt beside the patient. After a brief examination, he rose and pronounced to the assembled guests, ‘Gentlemen — the king is dead.’

* For the background of these two influential Roman officials, see my Theoderic.

** Amalasuntha was the beautiful and learned daughter of Theoderic, who had died eight years before in 526.

* River Po.

** A Roman education involved liberal use of the cane. In the opinion of Theoderic, this would cow a boy’s spirit, so that when he became a man he would be afraid of battle.

* These two categories of Goths corresponded (very roughly) respectively to barons and sheriffs in mediaeval England. ‘Dux’ was a Roman title for the holder of a high military command, one which Gothic nobles had (rather inappropriately) adopted.

SEVENTEEN

If my lord the emperor is dissatisfied, there will be war

Procopius (paraphrasing Peter the Patrician’s warning to Theodahad about the consequences should Amalasuntha not be reinstated), History of the Wars of Justinian, after 552

‘Slow down, Serenity,’ grumbled John the Cappadocian, as he toiled up the ladder in the wake of Justinian. Unwilling to break his daily routine of checking progress on his beloved project — the building anew of Hagia Sophia — the emperor had summoned his praetorian prefect to join him on the building site, to make his regular report.

Arriving at the topmost tier of scaffolding, adjoining the pendentives linking the arches on which the great dome would rest, Justinian perched himself on the edge of the planking, from which vantage-point he commanded a clear view of the workmen far below, egaged in erecting the green-and-red-veined columns to support the arcades, or encasing the massive piers with slabs of coloured marble — green, red, yellow, and blue. Puffing heavily, John at last joined the emperor, but was careful to position himself well clear of the platform’s brink.

‘Well, John, things it seems are looking up for us in Italy. A nephew of Theoderic, one Theodahad — Amalasuntha’s cousin and next in line of succession after Athalaric — has offered to transfer his liquid assets to Constantinople in return for a position of dignity at court. A strange, unpleasant character. Tries to be more Roman than the Romans. Divides his time between grabbing land in Tuscany, composing Latin verse, and reading Greek philosophy. Amalasuntha herself has been in secret communication with me, hinting that supreme power might be transferred to ourselves. And — this has to be significant — my edict concerning transfer of property, addressed to the senators in both Constantinople and Rome, has been accepted by Ravenna, or at least not rejected.’ Producing a length of spiced sausage from a knapsack, the emperor cut off a hunk and passed it to his prefect. ‘All in all, John, it looks as if Italy could be rejoining the Empire without a blow being struck.’

‘Afraid the picture’s changed, Serenity,’ declared the other, his mouth full of sausage. ‘Coming here, I bumped into your ambassador, Peter the Patrician, fresh back from Ravenna and on his way to report to yourself. Told him I’d pass on his news to you, on his behalf. So here it is. Athalaric died in October. In consequence, Amalasuntha was forced to make Theodahad her consors regni — co-ruler; you know these Goths, can’t stand the idea of a female running things. Well, now that he’s become king, Theodahad has suddenly got big ideas, which don’t include sharing power with his cousin. From being a committed Romanophile he’s now sided with the anti-Roman Gothic nationalists, especially the relatives of the three leading Goths Amalasuntha had murdered, all powerful men with lots of influence.’

Justinian stared at the prefect, his expression bleak. ‘This is dreadful, John. And just when things seemed to be going so well.’

‘Better brace yourself, Serenity; it gets worse. Theodahad and his clique of leading Goths have staged a coup, deposed Amalasuntha and imprisoned her on an island in Lacus Volsiniensis* in Umbria, where she’s rumoured to be in danger of her life.’

‘Unbelievable! Theodahad must be warned, in no uncertain terms, that unless he restores Amalasuntha forthwith to her former position, we shall be forced to intervene.’

‘Quite right, Serenity. Theodahad needs reminding that, constitutionally, he’s the vicegerent of the Eastern emperor — a title and function handed down from Theoderic. It applies of course also to Amalasuntha, only more so. So our Gothic philosopher-king has to toe the line. But so in a sense do you, Serenity. After all, Theodahad is the legitimate ruler — if we set aside his usurpation of his cousin’s role. So it wouldn’t do for you just to march into Italy and take over. That would be universally condemned as naked aggression. What you need is a casus belli. That sausage, by the way, is very good; I won’t say no if you’re offering some more.

‘Suppose, Serenity, another message got through to Theodahad — one different to the one you’re proposing to send.’ Munching sausage, the Cappadocian shot the emperor a crafty glance.

‘Explain yourself, John,’ snapped the emperor testily. ‘You know I hate mind games.’

‘This sausage really is excellent, Serenity — you must tell me where you get it. Well now, just suppose that Theodahad was tipped the wink that, despite your threat, nothing would happen to him if Amalasuntha had, let’s say, an “accident”. Then suppose Theodahad were to act on that — you’d have a cast-iron case for invading Italy. If necessary, you could always later disown having any part in a second message. Your reason for intervening in Italy