Theodoric

Palace, Timothy found himself in the same vast colonnaded hall where, thirty-four years earlier, he had been quizzed about Theoderic by Emperor Leo. At the far end of the great space sat an elderly diminutive figure, clad not in imperial robes but in a simple dalmatic. In a most unimperial gesture, Anastasius rose, advanced towards Timothy and, taking him by the shoulders, greeted him warmly. ‘Welcome, Timotheus Trascilliseus. My Master of Offices informs me that you have travelled all the way from Ravenna with information concerning King Theoderic, my vicegerent in Italia.’ Seating himself on a chair, he waved Timothy to another, and with his own hand poured wine for them both. He glanced at Timothy’s uniform of an agens in rebus (seldom worn but carefully preserved): pillbox cap, broad military belt, undyed linen tunic with indigo government roundels at hip and shoulder. ‘I see you’re dressed as an agens of the Eastern Empire,’ he observed. (No royal ‘we’, Timothy noted, warming to him.) ‘I thought I knew all my agentes by sight; you must have been absent from the capital since before my succession to Zeno.’

Anastasius’ ancient and careworn face displayed only kindly curiosity. All at once Timothy felt unmanned, close to disgraceful tears. His whole life he had fought and striven, surviving against hard circumstances and harder men, through skills learnt as a boy in the tough school of the Tarsus back streets. It was a contest he had relished all his life. But no more, he realized abruptly. His strength was ebbing; his joy in pitting his wits against others and prevailing had lost its savour. It was this knowledge, combined with the other’s unforced cordiality and kindness, that had somehow got to him, filling him with an unfamiliar gratitude mingled with self-pity. No more of this maudlin weakness, he told himself in shame, taking a sharp pull at his morale. If he would help Theoderic, let alone himself, he must stay collected and positive.

‘So, my friend,’ prompted Anastasius, ‘what have you to tell me?’

Timothy held nothing back: his job as Theoderic’s bodyguard during the young prince’s schooldays; the long journey back to Theoderic’s homeland in Pannonia; the migration to Moesia and the years of struggle alternating with alliance, between Zeno and the nation of the Ostrogoths; the rivalry with Strabo; the great exodus to Italy; the wars with Odovacar, and the success of Theoderic’s administration following the former’s defeat; finally, his dreams of becoming Roman emperor in Italy and — if the rumours were true — of reviving the Western Empire itself. ‘When I confided my concerns to him, Serenity, he took it amiss, I fear,’ concluded Timothy. ‘Hence my presence here.’

Anastasius, who had listened in silence to the long recital, refilled their beakers and murmured, ‘Well, we can perhaps turn a blind eye to Pannonia for the moment. After all, it was a Western province once. Before, that is, it became homeland to the Huns, then the Ostrogoths, followed by the Gepids, and now, it seems, returning to its original owners, the native Roman inhabitants. Orestes — Attila’s secretary and father of Romulus, the West’s last emperor — was Pannonian, you know. Poor little Romulus — pensioned off to Lucullus’ villa in Campania. Still alive, I hear.’ Anastasius gave a wry chuckle. ‘And that could complicate any plans Theoderic may be entertaining to have himself made emperor.’ He shot Timothy a keen look, one of unexpectedly steely authority. ‘That we simply can’t allow. There can only be one Rome, and it is Constantinople — which sounds like an oxymoron, I know.’ He smiled, and continued, ‘Theoderic is my vicegerent. Nothing more, nothing less. He must, in no uncertain terms, be reminded of that fact — if necessary, by the threat of forced removal from office should be remain obdurate. But hopefully it need not come to that.’ He glanced at Timothy appraisingly. ‘I am most grateful, Timotheus, for your confiding in me. Knowing what I now do, it may not be too late to mend fences with Theoderic. Perhaps with gentle persuasion he can be made to see where his attitude errs, while being reassured that he remains a valued servant of the empire. It strikes me that you Timotheus, knowing Theoderic better, I suspect, than anybody else, would be the ideal person to take a message to him from myself, couched, of course, in terms of exquisite diplomacy, and peppered with compliments. We could even offer him a second consulship. It would have to be honorarius not ordinarius,* but it would demonstrate that we hold him in high esteem, and would welcome his co-operation. Perhaps, as with Paul on the road to Damascus, the scales would then drop from his eyes. Will you consider my suggestion?’

‘How could I refuse, Serenity?’ Timothy replied, momentarily overcome. He felt a great surge of hope and gladness. The emperor’s proposal offered real hope that Theoderic would be brought to see sense, with the bonus that the rift between himself and the king might be healed. ‘My commission from Zeno has never, to my knowledge, been revoked, which hopefully makes me still an agens in the service of the Eastern Emperor.’

‘It does indeed, my friend. If you still have the document, we will have it updated with our seal, any increments of pay to be made up in full. If not, I will give the order to my Magister Officiorum that a fresh commission be-’

He broke off as the door crashed open and a figure in gilded armour burst into the room.

‘Julianus!’ exclaimed the emperor in surprise and displeasure. ‘We assumed our Magister Militum per Orientem to be in Persia. What is so urgent that it causes you to enter unannounced?’

‘A thousand pardons, Serenity,’ declared the other, ‘but what I have to tell cannot stand on ceremony. A truce with Persia was the reason I returned post-haste to the capital, to seek your ratification of a provisional treaty. A short time ago, as I was disembarking at the harbour of Phospherion, grave news came in about the latest actions of Theoderic. Not content with taking Sirmium and occupying Pannonia, he went on to invade the empire and has just defeated a Bulgar army commanded by Sabinianus. This, Serenity, is war!’

* The Gulf of Corinth.

* It was actually Sophocles. (‘Whom Zeus would destroy, he first makes mad’, Antigone, c. 450 BC.)

* Unlike that of a consul ordinarius, the name of an honorary consul, such as Clovis became, did not appear in the Fasti (state records, especially consular lists). Western consuls, their appointments subject to ratification by the Eastern Emperor, were nominated by Theoderic.

THIRTY

A dishonourable victory which Romans snatched from Romans with the daring of pirates

Marcellinus Comes [referring to the Eastern Empire’s punitive naval raid on Apulia and Calabria], Chronicon, c. 550

To Theodericus Amalo, king of the nation of the Ostrogoths and our vicegerent in Italia, greetings.

Whereas it has come to our attention that within the months of Iulius and Augustus of this year present you did knowingly and without permission from ourselves both capture the city of Sirmium and occupy the disputed territory of the civitas of Bassianae, commonly known as Pannonia Sirmiensis, being the eastern sector of the former Roman province of Pannonia Secunda, and moreover thereafter did proceed without just cause or provocation to enter under arms into our imperial province of Moesia Prima, and did there, in alliance with a proscribed outlaw and criminal, to wit, one Mundo, make war against our imperial forces commanded by our Magister Militum per Illyricum, we now desire and demand that immediately upon receipt of this communication. .

Timothy looked up from the scroll and in a strained voice asked, ‘Do you really want me to go on, Deric? Why don’t I cut to the chase and tell you in my own words what Anastasius wants? Then we can decide how best to respond.’ His mind flashed back to the meeting with Anastasius, and the plan that, for a brief moment, had seemed to offer a happy resolution to the crisis with Theoderic.

Until, that is, arriving from the blue like a ballista-bolt, the news from Julian (now a mature and hardened veteran) had smashed the plan to smithereens. Privately, Timothy had felt the situation was not past saving. He was convinced that the ‘invasion’ of the empire had not been intended by Theoderic, and would peter out as soon as the leaders of the host managed to talk the men out of their madness. He sensed, however, that it would be useless to try to make the emperor and his general see that; Anastasius’ attitude had hardened,