Now, this was the year of the plague, which was of the sort called bubonic It had not caused such extensive havoc since a thousand years before, when the historian Thucydides described its occurrence at Athens. Between war and disease there is a close connexion. In my opinion it is not merely that the pollution caused by fighting-corpses unburied, aqueducts broken, public sanitation neglected-breeds disease, but that the emotions which war excites weaken the mind and make bodies susceptible to every evil physical influence. The plague is a disease which baffles doctors, strikes and spares indiscriminately, is horrible in its symptoms.
The infection had originally been carried from China towards the end of the previous year in a bale of carpets consigned to a merchant of Pelusium in Egypt. He sickened; but the nature of the disease was not recognized, for the first symptoms are always slight and accompanied by no fever. He had infected his fellow-merchants and his family before the characteristic tumours appeared which give their name to the disease. Soon there were a thousand cases in Pelusium; from where it spread westward to Alexandria and beyond, and northward to Palestine. In the spring the grain-ships carried the plague to Constantinople, where my mistress was, and I with her. For grain-ships are always full of rats, and rats are subject to the infection and carry the seeds of it about in their furs. These grain-ship rats communicated the plague to the dock-rats of the Golden Horn, a very numerous colony, and they to the sewer-rats, and thus the infection spread throughout the city. At first there were no more than ten cases a day, but soon there were a hundred and then a thousand, and then, in the height of the summer, ten and twenty thousand a day.
The tumours formed usually on the groin, but also under the armpits, and in some cases behind the ears. In the later stages of the disease there was a great variation of symptoms. Some sufferers fell into a deep coma. They would consent to eat and drink and perform other habitual actions indicated for them to do-if they had friends or slaves faithful enough to nurse them-but behaved like sleep-walkers, not recognizing anyone, not noticing anything, remaining passive and perfectly unaware of the passage of time. Others, however, were seized with a violent delirium; these had to be strapped to their beds, or they would run off down the streets bawling or shrieking that the Devil was in their house, or the Bulgarian Huns perhaps-and many who had nobody to restrain them rushed to the harbour or the straits and plunged in and were drowned. In some cases, again, there was neither coma nor delirium: the sufferers remained clear-minded until the tumour mortified, and they died screaming for pain. In still other cases no pain was felt at all, and death came as peacefully as in old age. Often the whole body broke out in black pustules of the size of a pea, or there was a vomiting of blood; when either of these things happened death always ensued.
Many were utterly immune from the disease, even physicians and undertakers who handled the sick or dead by the thousand; while others who had fled away to the hills of Thrace at the first alarm, and lived there in the pure air remote from all contact with their fellow men, died nevertheless. Neither degree of susceptibility nor peculiarity of symptoms could be foretold according to sex, age, class, profession, faith, or race.
Before the plague reached its full vehemence the dead were buried with the customary rites, each household disposing of its own corpses. But it fast became impossible to display such piety: old tombs were broken into by night for new tenants to be thrust into them. Finally in thousands of houses, even those of very rich citizens, every person was either dead or fled, and the corpses lay rotting unburied. Justinian ordered his Registrar-General to take the matter in hand. The neglected corpses were buried in trenches; but soon the supply of labourers was insufficient to the task. Then the towers of the fortifications at Sycae on the other side of the Horn were used as charnel-houses, the dead being flung in through holes in the roof until there was room for no more. Though the roofs were scaled again a ghastly stench pervaded the city-especially when the wind blew from the north.
At the height of the pestilence more than 20,000 a day were dying. All trade and industry in the city came to an end, and of course social gatherings were out of the question. But there were services in the churches, which were thronged with terrified believers and became notorious centres of infection. The municipal food-supply failed, because no grain-ship captains dared to anchor in the harbour and the plague had spread to the farming districts too. Thousands who escaped the plague died of starvation. It was a time of signs and visions: ghosts paraded the daylight streets, and, greatest marvel of all, for once there was even peace between the Blue and Green factions. More nobility and virtue and loving-kindness were now shown by penitent evil-doers than ever before or since. Theodosius said to my mistress in this context: 'Our Lady Plague has a more persuasive voice by far, Godmother, than our Saviour, the Lord Jesus.' He always used a contemptuous tone in discussing the horrors around us, and made his own continued health seem to be a matter of good taste rather than good fortune. My mistress and I were also blessed with immunity. Whether or not this was due to frequent fumigation of the house with sulphur I do not know, but very few of my fellow-domestics sickened. Other houses, equally fortunate, ascribed their immunity to some Christian relic or heathen charm, or to some specific in which they had faith, such as curds or lemon-water or plum-pickle.
At about the time that the mortality began to decrease slightly, a whisper went through the Palace: 'His Sacred Majesty, the Emperor himself, is sick. It was thought to be a mere cold, but today a tumour has appeared on the groin. He is in a deep coma, and cannot even be persuaded to eat. It is impossible that he will live, the doctors agree.'
Then came the headless rumour spreading swiftly throughout the Empire: 'He is dead.' Even in that horrible time-for by now every diocese almost was afflicted-the people found heart to thank God that the evil were slain as well as the good. And they prayed that the next Emperor might be kinder to his subjects and more true to his word. When the rumour reached Belisarius he was at Carchemish-it was just before the five days' armistice. His officers came in a body and asked him: 'From whom do you take orders now, Illustrious Belisarius?'
He answered at once, not wishing to seem evasive or equivocal: 'The choice remains with the Senate. But my vote will go to Justin, the late Emperor's nephew and nearest of kin, who is highest in rank of all the Imperial Family.' (This was not Justin, the son of Germanus, but another, the son of Justinian's sister Vigilantia.)
They said: 'But, my lord, the oath of allegiance which all officers have been required to swear is jointly to Justinian as Emperor and Theodora as his wife.'
He replied: 'That may be. It happens that I swore my oath, under the old form, to Justinian alone. It is unconstitutional for a woman to be Empress in her own right. Though I regard Her Resplendency as a most capable and energetic administrator, I do not approve that a thousand-year-old rule should be broken in her favour. For this reason alone: the Goths and Armenians and Moors and many another race in the Empire would never consent to be ruled by a woman, and would remain in a constant state of rebellion so long as she lived.'
Boutzes agreed, adding: 'For my part, even if this were not the case, I should refuse to obey Theodora, who (I may now speak without disloyalty, the Emperor being dead) is no less of a monster than he was, but fiercer and more cunning even.'
The others all thought the same thing, but did not express themselves with such freedom.
Then came the news that Justinian was, after all, not dead. Though now in his sixtieth year (held to be the most dangerous time of life), he had recovered sufficiently from his coma to recognize Theodora and Narses. Moreover, the tumour on his groin, having swollen to a great size, had begun to suppurate slightly-a sign that he was on his way to recovery. The tumour broke; presently he was on his feet again and well enough, except that his speech was affected by a partial paralysis of the tongue.
During the coma, his living phantasm, which emitted a greenish-violet light, had been seen gliding about the Palace corridors and passing with ease through doors and walls, and sometimes floating feet foremost in and out of windows in a most gruesome manner, frightening the guards and servants out of their wits. On two or three occasions the phantasm was heard to speak. In each case the words were reported as follows: 'O sweet Beelzebub, saviour of monarchs! Take me not yet, Beelzebub-the Angel would soar.' Some put one interpretation on this, and some another; but a few of us understood the Angel as Belisarius, whose wings Justinian kept so jealously clipped.
Belisarius, however, had now not merely one Imperial enemy but two. For a distorted version of what he had said to his generals at Carchemish was at once sent back to Theodora by John the Epicure and Peter, his secret enemies, to cancel any report that might have reached her of their own lack of warmth in her cause. This, then, was the reason why all these generals were summoned back from Barbalissus to Constantinople.
At Constantinople the plague had now abated somewhat, and city life was resuming its former factious gaiety; a lively interest was taken in the coming judicial inquiry. As soon as Belisarius and the other generals arrived, they were informed that they were under arrest. The charge was high treason. Belisarius was temporarily relieved of his command in the East, which was handed over to Martin.
Belisarius was astonished. He declared himself ready to face his accusers with a cheerful conscience; for he had said nothing either untrue or disloyal. To the officers and men of his Household Regiment who had come with him he sent this message: 'It seems that I have been unjustly slandered to His Clemency the Emperor, but I have every confidence that I shall be a free man before long. I charge you, by your love of me, to abstain from any rebellious or criminal act which would prejudice my acquittal Obey the Emperor's officers in everything. Be patient.'
The trial was held at the Palace behind closed doors; and no report of the judicial findings-Theodora herself was the judge-was published. Belisarius conducted his own defence, and by cross-examining John the Epicure and Peter separately drove them to contradict each other. He tried to convince the Court, too, that they had been inefficient quarrelsome, rapacious, disobedient officers, and ungrateful ones besides. He admitted that he had advised against Theodora's election as sole monarch; but was able to produce the minutes of the meeting, which his secretary had taken down, in proof of the innocence of his remarks: he had, he protested, merely upheld the Roman Constitution. Theodora could not convict him for treason. Yet she was resolved to harm him as much as she possibly could, for not having recommended her to his subordinates as Justinian's natural successor.
John the Epicure and Peter were complimented for their loyalty to the Throne and given presents of money and new tides.
The sentence on two or three of the offending generals, including Boutzes, was close confinement during their Majesties' pleasure. Boutzes was lowered into an unlighted dungeon, where he had nobody to share his misery and not even a word from the gaolers; scraps of meat and bread were thrown to him once a day, as to a wild beast in a pen. It was only after two years and four months that he was released. By then he was broken by ill-health and had taken to crawling on his hands and knees, which were covered with callouses, and he had lost all his hair and most of his teeth. Moreover, the sudden return to the light of day was too much for his eyes-he was thereafter never able to read or distinguish objects clearly. Thus were avenged the inhabitants of Antioch, whose ransom-money Boutzes had stolen from the kind-hearted people of Edessa.
Belisarius, though proved not guilty of treason, was found guilty of 'giving credence and currency to damaging rumours' (of Justinian's death), of failing to punish Boutzes for his disloyal words-and of permitting the capture of Callinicum! His removal from his command was confirmed, and all his property whatsoever in land, goods, or money was forfeited to the Crown.
Belisarius heard the sentence with dignity, and made no appeal against it. His only comment was that without funds he could not continue to equip, pay, and feed the Household Regiment, which had served the Emperor faithfully in many wars.
Theodora replied: 'They rank as slaves of your household, and you need not, therefore, have any concern for their fate. They are forfeited too.'
At this he remained silent, but it was observed that he clenched his fists until the knuckles whitened. He loved the men of his Household Regiment, and could hardly bear that they should be taken from him to be mishandled by the generals of the common sort.
Theodora called to Narses and said: 'The slaves of the former Commander of Armies in the East, this Belisarius, are to be divided up among the Palace generals and colonels, yourself to have the first choice. If any are left whom no Palace officer can afford to maintain, let the Secretaries of State draw lots for them.' Thus Belisarius had the pain of seeing many of the hardy men whom he had perfected in the arts of war become the door-keepers and attendants of perfumed eunuchs.
Belisarius lost not only the half-squadron of men who had come to Constantinople with him, but the remainder of his Household, now also recalled. He sent word around to them again, secretly: 'Patience, comrades, I implore you! All will be well before long. Enjoy your holiday in the city, keep yourselves in training as I have taught you to do, express no pity for me, swallow all insults. Patience!' They obeyed him, though unwillingly.
The city mob, who are notoriously as incapable of sound judgement as they are unstable of purpose, had heard the sentence on Belisarius with secret glee. They reasoned in the wine-shops: 'Be sure, the Emperor and Empress have now at last ruined themselves by their ingratitude. Our Belisarius will not submit to such injustice. He is too bold and proud a man. Only wait: soon there will be news of a sudden rising by the Household Regiment and of bloody murder in the Sacred Apartments of the Palace.'
They waited with growing impatience. Nothing at all happened. They muttered in disgust among themselves that their former idol, their glorious hero Belisarius, was submitting to the spite and ingratitude of his sovereigns with a patience as abject as that in use among the penitential monks. (These squat like toads in their cells while the flagellant of the week, coming around with his wire scourge, flogs their backs until the old scars open again.) When at first the citizens had crowded about him in the street with shouts of indignant pity he repulsed them angrily, crying: 'Gentlemen, be silent, this affair is between the Emperor and myself. Leave me, I beg you, and go about your businesses.'
He had a meagre attendance of four or five young officers, who clung to him from loyalty, though warned by Narses that they would thereby come under the Imperial suspicion and lose all chance of promotion. All his other associates were careful not to greet him-although, had he raised the standard of revolt, most of them would have rallied to it at once. He took mean lodgings near the Bull Square in a house attached to the Entertainment Halls. This is a group of halls, built around a central fountain, which families who have houses of only modest size can hire for wedding and funeral feasts and such-like. Here he was dependent on these same young officers even for the necessities of life. But for them he must have applied for a wooden ticket and drawn the common dole. Theodora had not only stripped him of all his wealth in the city: she had also sent to Edessa, where he had banked a large sum of money for war-expenses, and made that hers too.
Every day he went to pay his respects at the Palace, as he would ordinarily have done. Justinian tried to goad him to rebellion by sneers and gibes; for the man's patience exasperated him. One morning he refused to see Belisarius, alleging a press of business, and ordered him to wait outside the Palace Gates until the evening. Belisarius obeyed, standing all day outside the Gates without food, exposed to public curiosity. Then the mob, disgusted by what they regarded as miserable slavishness, pelted him with rotten fruit and filth, so that his patrician's gown was disgracefully stained. He uttered not a single word, and did not even stoop to avoid the missiles. But he dealt sternly with an impudent youth who came sneaking up along the wall and attempted to pull his beard. He seized the fellow by the breeches and tossed him a great distance; it is said that this youth suffered injuries which kept him an invalid for many years.
At dusk he was at last admitted to the Palace, and there begged leave to present an appeal to the Emperor. Justinian consented to consider the appeal, hoping that he had at last moved Belisarius to open resentment. He was disappointed: all that Belisarius asked was a new gown, so that he could present himself decently at the next audience.
Justinian replied tartly: 'We have no money to clothe you, my Lord Belisarius. If you cannot afford to keep yourself in gowns, we had better strike your name from the roll of patricians: thus you will be released from all ceremonial obligations.'
Belisarius bowed low and replied: 'In whatever rank or capacity I am permitted to serve your Majesty, I can be counted upon to do my duty faithfully.'
His name was removed from the roll, and he did not return to the Palace for many months.
All this time, of course, my mistress continued to enjoy Theodora's friendship and, so far from being deprived of any of her possessions, was made richer by the grant of much of Belisarius's property, including his large estate at Rufinianae. She pretended to be much more indifferent to her husband's misfortunes than, I know, she actually was. For my part I never mentioned Belisarius's affairs to her if I could avoid doing so; and whenever she alluded to them herself I was careful not to commit myself to any attitude. But it made my blood boil to see Theodosius pride it at Belisarius's expense. He was a great man at the Palace in those days, and went about attended by a train of 400 Thracians of the Household Regiment, whom Theodora had presented to him. He was constantly closeted with Theodora, having been appointed Master of Palace Entertainments.
Of the inner history of what occurred next many versions are current-some plausible, some ridiculous, none authentic. At all events, the essential happening was that Theodosius died of a dysentery on St Stephen's Day, which is the day following Christmas Day; and whether this was a sheer accident or whether he was poisoned at the Christmas feast, and if so by whom, was never brought to the light of history. The few who examined his corpse inclined to the view that he was poisoned.
This much can be confidently said: his death is not to be laid at Belisarius's door, nor was any friend of Photius's responsible for it. It is not outside the limits of credibility that some officious domestic of my mistress Antonina thought thus to anticipate her wishes. I cannot discuss this. Needless to say, suspicion never fell upon Eugenius.
My mistress's feelings on Theodosius's death were confused. She had recently changed towards him, and with strange suddenness. She had come to believe, rightly or wrongly, that her favourite, by using the same courtier's arts that he had used with her, had now made himself a lover of Theodora's. He certainly was then treating my mistress with an indifference which she must have felt very galling, though she did her best to conceal the smart from everyone.
Theodora took the death lightly; she did not even interest herself in its cause. Yet she showed my mistress unaffected sympathy in her loss, and seemed to have no notion whatsoever that she had been nourishing such bitter jealousy. Some said that this lightness of heart was assumed by Theodora in order to deprive Justinian of satisfaction in her grief; for they said that it was the Emperor himself who had arranged Theodosius's murder, in jealousy of his wife's pleasure in him, and that in truth she felt his loss very keenly. But that was nonsense.
My mistress now fell into a deep melancholy; sleeplessness and lack of appetite wore her so thin that she looked ten years more than her age, which was now two-and-forty.
One day when I went into her boudoir she looked up, with eyes red from weeping. Though I had often seen her sullen, fretful, angry, despairing, I had not seen her weep since her girlhood.
I said to her gently: 'Mistress, I was your first slave, and I have been faithful to you all my life. I am devoted to you, above everything in the world, and would the for your sake, as you know. Let me share in your misery, learning the cause of it. O Lady Antonina, my heart sinks when I see you weeping.'
The tears burst out afresh; but she did not reply.
Then I asked: 'Mistress, dearest mistress, is it that you mourn for Theodosius?'
She cried out: 'No, Eugenius, ray faithful friend, no! By Hera and Aphrodite, no! It is not of Theodosius that I am thinking-but of my husband Belisarius. I must confide in you again, as I did long ago in my club-house days, lest my silence consume me. O dear Eugenius, I would give all I possess never to have cast eyes on false Theodosius. Belisarius has always been my real love-and, like a fool, I have utterly ruined him. Nor is there any undoing of my folly.'
I wept with her. 'A reconciliation must be brought about at once,' I cried impulsively. But she answered that neither Belisarius's pride nor hers permitted a reconciliation. Moreover, Theodora had by no means forgiven Belisarius, and the Emperor hated him above all human beings.
After a little thought, I said: 'I believe that I understand the whole case and can find a way out.'
'There is no way out, Eugenius.'
Nevertheless, I went on boldly: 'Mistress, it appears to me that if I were to go to Belisarius and tell him, what I believe has never been revealed to him, that Photius confessed under torture to having slandered you; and if I were to swear to him that you and Theodosius were never lovers; and if I were to tell him further that your oaths to Cappadocian John were sworn-were they not?-at the order of the Empress and that you have asked pardon of God for this offence and for your other blasphemies-would you not do that immediately, dearest mistress, to placate Belisarius?-and that you have far more cause to be offended by him than he by you…'
'O wise Eugenius, go with, my blessing. Yes, I will ask pardon of God-I would certainly not let that trifle stand in my way. Tell him all that you have just said; and then, if he forgets his pride and anger, you may assure him that I never did love anyone else but himself, and that I will not rest until he is restored to freedom and honour-then he and I will never again be parted.'
'You will appeal to the Empress?'
'I will. I will remind her of the services that I rendered her lately in the matter of Cappadocian John, and of our old friendship, and of the friendship existing between her father, the Bear Master, and mine, the charioteer….'
But I said: 'Dearest mistress, I have a further suggestion to make. I believe that I am in a position to accomplish the final ruin of Cappadocian John myself. If this is done and if you take the credit for it, surely the Empress will give you everything you ask?'
'How?' she asked, eagerly. 'How can you bring this about?'
I replied: 'This afternoon, in a wine-shop, I fell in conversation with a poor young man of Cyzicus, who is dying of a wasting disease and has not long to live. He and his whole family, old grandparents and wife and three young children, have been driven from their home by order of the Bishop of Cyzicus. He came alone on foot to Constantinople, and today applied for justice and relief at the Palace; but the officials drove him away, because the Bishop is in good standing at Court. I sympathized with him, and gave him a piece of silver, telling him to meet me under the statue of the Elephant of Severus tomorrow at noon. I did not disclose my name or that of my employer, and I am not known in that wine-shop.'
'Well?'
'Give me five hundred pieces in gold, mistress, and that will be sufficient to destroy Cappadocian John.'
'I do not understand.'
'Give me the money and trust me to undertake the matter.'
'If you succeed, Eugenius, I will give you fifty thousand and your freedom.'
'What is money but bodily comforts, which I already possess? What is "freedom" but to be well considered, as I already am? No, Mistress, my sufficient reward will be that you and my Lord Belisarius and the Empress are relieved of an old enemy, and that the death of your father Damocles, my former master, is avenged, and that I shall have been the means of reconciling the Empress to my Lord Belisarius.'
That evening I sought out Belisarius at his mean lodgings. Though weak from a return of his malarial fever, he rose from his couch to welcome me. With a smile that concealed the depth of his feeling, he asked: 'And are you not afraid to visit me, Eugenius, old friend?'
I answered: 'No, Illustrious Lord. With the message that I bring I would have risked passing through fire or a camp of Bulgarian Huns.'
He grew a little impatient: 'Do not address me by titles of which I have been deprived. What is the message?'
I related, as from myself, all that I had agreed with my mistress to say. He listened most eagerly, crying 'Ah!' when I told him that his wife had asked pardon of God. Then I showed him the State papers in which Photius's confession was recorded-having bribed the copying clerk to the Assistant-Registrar for a day's loan of them. Belisarius read them hastily, and then again with great care, and at last he beat his breast and said: 'For my jealous rage and my credulity I deserve all that I have suffered. But alas, Eugenius, it is too late now. Your mistress will never forgive me for what I did to her at Daras, even if I make her a full apology.'
I urged him to be of good courage: all would yet be well. Then I repeated my mistress's message, which at first he would not believe to be authentic. He said: 'If your mistress Antonina will indeed still listen to any words of mine, tell her that the fault was wholly on my side-but that it was only an excess of love for her that made me guilty of such madness.'
That night Belisarius and my mistress met secretly at his lodgings. Nobody but myself knew of it. Both embraced me, kissing me on the cheeks, and said that they owed their lives to me.
On the next day I met the young man from Cyzicus under the statue of the Elephant. I drew him aside to a private place and said to him: 'Here in this bag are five hundred pieces of gold. They will keep your family in decent plenty for the rest of their lives. But in order to earn them you must do a desperate thing.'
He asked: 'What can that be, benefactor?'
'You must kill the Bishop of Cyzicus. He is an enemy of my master's, whose gold this is.'
'Your words frighten me,' he cried.
'How, when you have so few months to live in any case, and when by this deed you will, at a stroke, secure both revenge for your injuries and provision for your destitute family?'
He asked: 'Who is your master?'
I answered: 'I do not hesitate to tell you that. He is Cappadocian John, now a priest of the Cathedral at Cyzicus.'
I made him believe that I was in earnest about the gold; when I gave him ten gold pieces on account he undertook to commit the murder and went cheerfully away.
Soon the expected news came from Cyzicus. The young man had fulfilled his obligation. He had waited outside the Cathedral porch after Mass and, as the Bishop emerged, sunk a long dagger into him. He was arrested and threatened with the rack unless he revealed the motives of this sacrilegious deed. As I had expected, he avoided mention of his own wrongs, telling the officers merely that he had been bribed to the deed by a gift of ten pieces of gold from Cappadocian John. Cappadocian John's enmity towards the Bishop was well known. He was arrested and tried before the judges of that place, found guilty as accessory to the murder, and sentenced to death. By my mistress's intercession with Theodora the young man's life was spared, and later I sent the remainder of the 500 gold pieces to him. How long he lived afterwards, I do not know.
Cappadocian John's life, too, was spared by Justinian, with the excuse that his guilt was insufficiently proved. Nevertheless, he was stripped of his robe and thrashed and made to confess to his past sins; though he would not own to murder, the rest of the tale was disgraceful enough to have hanged him a dozen times over. All his goods were forfeited to the Crown, and he was set naked on a trading-ship bound for Egypt (but for charity someone lent him a rough blanket); where-ever the ship touched he was made to go ashore and beg for bread and coppers on the quay. Thus vengeance was at last fully accomplished; for it was to John's nakedness and beggary that Theodora and my mistress had pledged themselves, not to his death by violence. The soul of the charioteer Damocles, my former master, had peace by the banks of Styx.
My mistress could now go before Theodora and beg her to receive Belisarius back into favour; saying that she herself proposed to forgive and live with him again. Her devotion to Theodora's cause was once more proved, and Belisarius would do nothing further to earn the displeasure of his Empress-of that she could be assured.
Theodora did not reject the plea. She sent an Imperial messenger to Belisarius with a letter which ran as follows: 'You are yourself well aware, best of men, how you have wronged your Sovereigns. But since I am greatly indebted to your wife for her services to me, I have, at her request, expunged from the records all charges against you, and given you my gracious pardon. For the future, then, you need not fear as to your safety or your prosperity; but we shall judge your behaviour not only by your actions in regard to ourselves, but by your attitude to her.'
Thus Belisarius was restored to favour again, for even Justinian considered that his pride had now been sufficiently humbled; and one-half of his treasure was given back to him, and all the land and houses. Justinian held back the remainder of the treasure, which amounted to one-quarter of a million gold pieces, saying that the possession of so much money did not become a subject when there was such urgent need of funds in the Imperial Treasury.
As a tribute to the close friendship existing between my mistress Antonina's family and her own, Theodora now decided that Joannina, my mistress's child by Belisarius, should be betrothed to her own nearest relative, Anastasius 'Longlegs', son of Sittas the general and her sister Anastasia. It was to this youth that she intended the Diadem to pass, after Justinian's death and her own: the marriage would greatly strengthen his position in the city. So this was done.
It may seem strange that I have made no reference to Joannina since her birth just before Belisarius's expedition to Carthage. The fact is that she had enjoyed no intimate life with cither of her parents. My mistress Antonina had not taken the child with her to the wars, but placed her under the tutelage of Theodora, who came to regard her as her own daughter. Joannina remained with Theodora in the Sacred Apartments of the Palace even when her parents happened to be back in the city. My mistress was content that this should be so: her chief maternal feelings were for Martha, Hildiger's wife-who unfortunately fell a victim to the plague. But it saddened Belisarius that he should be estranged from his only child. He sent her frequent letters and presents from overseas, fondly reminding her that she had a father. But whenever they met, during his occasional respites from war, it was always in the shadow of the Throne; and Joannina treated his affectionate advances with embarrassment. With Antonina the child was more at ease, as with a good-natured, fashionable aunt.
The news of Joannina's engagement set a public seal on the reconciliation of Theodora and my mistress with Belisarius. Theodora even persuaded the Emperor to witness the ceremonial exchange of gifts at Belisarius's house; and his presence there seemed a good omen for the renewed prosperity of Belisarius's domestic affairs. Belisarius and my mistress were escorted by a remnant of his Household Regiment-400 Thracians who had passed to my mistress at Theodosius's death, and were now restored to their former master. But their 6,500 comrades-in-arms were still withheld from him.
Belisarius's recall from the East had brought disaster there. Justinian ordered an invasion of Persian Armenia, and reinforced the frontier armies until they amounted to nearly 30,000 men; but divided the command between no less than fifteen generals. Each general favoured and pursued a plan of campaign of his own; at Dubis, on the River Araxes, their disunited forces were routed by an army of only 4,000 Persians and fled wildly home, abandoning their plunder, their standards, and their arms. Several of these generals continued in their flight until their horses foundered, though there was now no enemy within thirty miles of them. Then Our Lady Plague proved an unexpected ally, spreading suddenly into Persian territory, which she had hitherto spared, and killing one man in every three throughout the Great King's dominions: else it would have gone ill with the Roman Empire. For, of 30,000 men, 10,000 men were killed at Dubis and 10,000 captured, together with all the transport of the army, heaped with baggage and plunder.
When Belisarius volunteered to go again to the East and rally the survivors, Justinian haughtily refused this plea. He withheld the true explanation, which was that he did not wish Belisarius to succeed once more where others had failed, and thus seem indispensable; but said, in his odious smiling way, that the Lady Antonina must henceforth accompany her husband on his campaigns as a surety for his loyal behaviour, and that the Lady Antonina would 'no doubt dislike a visit to the Persian frontier in view of her unfortunate experiences on a previous visit.'
Then he went on to say that if Belisarius greatly hungered for the battlefield he might return to Italy, to complete the task which he had neglected to finish. 'It was most unwise and not altogether loyal, my Lord Belisarius, to return to us at Constantinople before you had properly stamped out the last sparks of Gothic rebellion, which have smouldered ever since and at last burst into a menacing blaze.'
Belisarius answered him, as patiently as ever: 'Give me back the remainder of my Household Regiment, Your Majesty, and I will do my best in the matter.'
Justinian sneered: 'For some new treachery, I suppose? No, no, General, I am too old and experienced a hare to be lured by such a lettuce-leaf. Besides, your former troops, all but a very few, have lately been taken from my Palace officers and drafted, as you know, to the Persian frontier-from where we cannot spare them. But why do you argue with us, you who were so recently a beggar? We will give you permission to recruit new troops wherever you please in our dominions; but since the recrudescence of war in Italy is clearly due to your former negligence, we shall require you to finance the expedition yourself. We have no money, but you are still possessed of an ample fortune. If you accept this charge we will bestow on you a great honour: we will create you Count of the Royal Stables. Let us know your mind tomorrow.'
Then he dismissed him.
Belisarius accepted the terms-for he disdained to bargain. Presently he sailed for Italy with my mistress Antonina, whom I accompanied, and his 400 Thracians. His new title gave my mistress much amusement. She would say such things as this: 'My poor husband, you are created Count of the Augean Stables, but forbidden to cleanse them!' (The hero Hercules was commanded, as his fifth Labour, to cleanse the stables of Augeas in one day; accomplishing this by leading the Rivers Alpheus and Peneus through them.)
It was about this time that Solomon was killed in Africa, in battle with a raiding army of Moors. He had been a most capable Governor, though greatly hampered by an insufficiency of troops. The Roman Africans had long regretted those happy days of Vandal rule when the Moors were restrained in their hill-fortresses and the tax-gatherers from Constantinople had not yet begun to eat up the land. After Solomon's death the Moors massacred, burned, and destroyed without pity or fear of reprisal. The poorer the Diocese grew, the more heavily did the taxes fall on what wealth survived; for the assessment made in the year of Belisarius's Consulship had never been modified. Then came the plague. In those years of general disaster five millions of the population perished; then, so many fields being left unfilled and un-watered, the desert broke in upon them. I think this fertile land will never recover from its misfortunes-or at least not so long as it remains within the Empire.
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