had to keep quiet about his promotion and his increasing power, because I had to placate Justinian.”
“I agree, the fellow’s gross and disgusting, but he does bring in the lucre, doesn’t he?’
“Vast amounts,” said Theodora gloomily. “Fills the coffers. And we do need it. I’ll never be able to get rid of him.”
“Certainly this military expedition must be costing the crown a mint,” said Antonina. “Oh, God, Theodora, this is a colossal gamble, you do realise that?”
“Lots of nay-sayers,” said Theodora, “predicting an inglorious defeat, if not complete annihilation. Including the Cappadocian, who would love to see both Belisarius and Justinian put to shame.”
“But your husband refuses to be deterred, and mine will sally forth in a spirit of high adventure.” A shared awareness of the perilously thin line separating glory from disaster bound the two women in a moment of silence.
“The Patriarch will lead the entire country in prayers for your success,” said Theodora. “And I will spend time on my knees before the Holy Mother pleading that she may keep her hand over your head.”
“The prayers of many thousands of wives and mothers will be ascending to her ears,” said Antonina. “May they be heard.”
Chapter 4: What do you know of Amalasuintha?
When the fleet set sail for Africa, incense from swung censers rose with prayers and wheeling seagulls on currents of bright air above the myriad masts bobbing like a forest of stripped trunks on undulating land. They were sent forth with chants and blessings, votive candles and thrown flowers. But the first reports to reach Constantinople were not good.
My dearest Theodora, wrote Antonina, Salutations to the Empress!
I regret to inform you that this campaign has begun disastrously. Before we even made landfall in Africa, we had lost five hundred men, all within a few days of each other. They suffered agonising stomach cramps and nausea, their bowels ran and they threw up until they had no bodily fluids left, and then they died. The army physicians were powerless. It was food poisoning, they said, but they were mystified as to the cause. Then they discovered that an enormous quantity of ship’s biscuit had gone mouldy; Belisarius ordered what remained to be destroyed, and the deaths came to an end.
Fortunately, when this happened we were rounding the southern coast of Greece, so Belisarius could order a general disembarkation at Methoni, a town on the south-western promontory. I say fortunately because we were then able to requisition fresh rations, on the authority of the Imperial Warrant.
Belisarius was distraught. A general in the army knows, of course, that lives will be lost. But not like this, not by the perfidy of one of their own countrymen. Theodora, you should know that Cappadocian John was the quartermaster-general responsible for provisioning the ships. We discovered that he had supplied dried bread insufficiently baked to turn it into biscuit that would last. This inflated the weight, and one also suspects that he received a fuel allowance to do the baking, which he doubtless pocketed. The man’s no better than a traitor and a murderer. We must find a way to get rid of him.
I am furthermore convinced that there was more to this than sheer greed. I believe John did his level best to weaken Belisarius and undermine Justinian. Had we not been able to make land and reprovision, the entire expedition could well have ended in failure. We would have had to limp back abjectly, as so many people thought we would.
We have finally reached the port of Catania in Sicily. I shall ask Procopius to post this letter to you in Syracuse; Belisarius is sending him there in a fast galley to procure wine, oil and fresh vegetables. We have been promised that whatever we require will be made available according to the orders of the Gothic regent Amalasuintha. (I’m told her young son Athalaric is completely debauched and addicted to drugs – at least my unloved and unloving son Photius is a disciplined soldier.) Grateful thanks to the Emperor, for arranging the compact that ensured her support. Once we are again well provisioned, we’ll be able to continue our voyage.
It has been tiring and often dangerous, but I have never had a moment’s regret that I did not stay at home. I am happy to be at the side of Belisarius, and to have the company of my dear son Theodosius, given up perforce so long ago, and now by great good fortune close enough to touch. I pray that the Virgin Mother may intercede for you to bless you with a son. Meanwhile, my dear friend, do not neglect your part in achieving this. There surely cannot be more than one immaculate conception.
Ever your loving friend
Antonina
Theodora smiled when she read this. Justinian’s ire about young Areobindus had subsided, and the thrice-weekly trysts in the Sigma suite had resumed. Ah, my friend, she thought, I am indeed doing my utmost. Soon I’ll be able to write to you a letter with the glorious news that I have quickened once again. It will happen. It must happen. Soon, soon.
The allegations regarding the hundreds of lives lost due to mouldy bread were repeated in dispatches. Justinian was furious and ordered an immediate enquiry. Cappadocian John defended himself with vigour, maintaining that he had himself been cheated by a supplier whom he had, unfortunately, trusted. He produced invoices and receipts and witnesses. It was a tragic loss, he said, but he was not at fault.
“And you believe him?” asked Theodora.
“He has supplied proof,” said Justinian.
“Could all have been forged. Witnesses can be intimidated, or bribed.”
“Why would he have done such a thing?”
“To sabotage your war effort. To undermine Belisarius. He is underhand and devious.”
“But he serves us devotedly. Since the riots he has brought in extensive revenues. He is indispensable. No, my love, I think you are unreasonably suspicious. I am convinced of his innocence.”
Narses was inclined to side with Theodora. “I am having that man closely watched, Despoina,” he assured her. “Two of his witnesses have disappeared, and one has acquired a smallholding near Blachernae. Sooner or later he will overreach himself.”
“We must be vigilant,” said Theodora.
It was not long before reports from Africa were brought to Constantinople by fast dromon, sailing before a favourable wind.
Theodora found her husband surrounded by dispatches. “Theodora, my love, hear this! Gelimer has been evicted from Carthage!” exclaimed Justinian. “Belisarius has made his formal entry into the city with his wife at his side! We have reconquered the Vandal kingdom of North Africa!”
“Congratulations, my dearest!” Theodora thought Antonina must have thoroughly enjoyed that dramatic event.
“Ha! That will silence all those feeble nay-sayers who kept reminding me of the defeat in 468,” gloated Justinian.
“Including Cappadocian John. I remember he said success would bring you no lasting gain, while failure would risk the ruin of the state.”
“And even if we were victorious, which he did not expect, we would never hold Africa while Italy and Sicily are in the hands of others. Yes, well, that’s probably true, but they’ll not long remain in the hands of others, if my grand plan succeeds, and I believe it will. God is on our side! Listen to this,”
