“Marvelous,” growled Michael. “A libertine.” The raptor examined a particularly distasteful morsel of decayed rodent. “I despise libertines.”
Belisarius shrugged. “We must work with what we have. And with what little time we have. I cannot stay here long. I expect a conflict with Persia will be erupting again, soon, and I have much to do to prepare my army. I will have to leave for Daras within a week. So, whatever it is we are going to do, if it involves me, will need to be started immediately.”
He looked to Cassian.
“I think your suggestion is an excellent one. Approach this John of Rhodes and feel him out. We need to examine the problem of these strange weapons, and he seems as good a place as any to start.”
“What if he agrees?” asked Cassian. “What, precisely, are we asking him to do?”
Belisarius stroked his chin. “We will need to create a workshop, somewhere. An armory, of sorts. A—weapons project. And, if we have any success in uncovering the secret of these weapons, we will need to recruit and train men who can use them.”
“A question,” interrupted Antonina. “Should we tell this John about the jewel?”
The four people in the room looked at each other. Belisarius was the first to speak.
“No,” he said firmly. “At least, not until we are certain he can be trusted. But, for the moment, I think we must keep the knowledge to ourselves. If word begins to spread too quickly, there’ll be an uproar about witchcraft.”
“I think we must tell Sittas, also,” added Antonina.
“Yes,” agreed Belisarius. “Sittas must be brought fully into our confidence, as soon as possible.” He picked up the jewel. “Fully.”
Michael frowned, but Cassian nodded. “I agree. For many reasons. The war we are about to launch will be waged on many fronts, not all of them military. There are many enemies within the ranks of Rome, also. Some, within the Church. Some, within the nobility and the aristocracy.” He took a deep breath. “And, finally, there—”
“Is Justinian.” Belisarius voice was like iron. “I will not be false to my oath, Cassian.”
The bishop smiled. “I am not asking you to be, Belisarius. But you have to deal with some realities, also. Justinian is the Emperor. And, whether for good or ill, is enormously capable. He’s no fool to be led around by the nose, and no indolent layabout to be safely ignored. And he’s also, well, how shall I put it?”
Antonina answered. “Treacherous, suspicious, envious, jealous. A conspirator who sees conspiracy everywhere, and who is firmly convinced that all the world seeks to do him harm.”
Cassian nodded. “Ironically, we are not seeking to do him harm. Rather the contrary. We are seeking to preserve his empire, among other things. But, in order to do so, we will need to conspire behind his back.”
“Do we?” asked Belisarius.
Cassian was firm. “Yes. I know the man well, Belisarius—much better than you, actually, even though you share Thracian ancestry. I have spent many hours with him in private conversation. He attends every council of the Church, you know, and participates fully. Both in the formal discussions and then, in private, with many of the leading theologians of the Church. Though I rank only middling high in the hierarchy of the Church, I rank very high in the esteem of theologians. And Justinian, as you may know, thinks he is quite the theologian himself.”
He stroked his beard. “Actually, he is quite good at it. Justinian’s own theological inclinations are excellent, in truth. In his heart, he leans toward a compromise with heresy and a tolerant policy. But his cold, ambitious mind leans toward a close tie to severe orthodoxy, given his ambitions in the west.”
“What ambitions?” demanded Belisarius.
Anthony was surprised. “You don’t know? You, one of his favorite generals?”
There was a rare bitterness in the general’s crooked smile, now.
“Being one of Justinian’s favored generals does not make him a confidant, Anthony. Rather the reverse. He is shrewd enough to want capable generals, and then suspects the use that capability would be put to. So he tells his generals nothing until the last moment.”