Belisarius nodded. “I know the breed well, Anthony. Yes, that would be splendid. If we can gain their trust and confidence, they will be impossible to infiltrate.” He frowned pensively. “And might very well make—let me think on that.”
“All right,” said Antonina. “But what will we tell these peasants? And John of Rhodes? And we will need to engage the services of a number of artisans. And then, if we meet with any success, we will need to recruit men who can learn to use the new weapons. If we do not tell these people about the jewel, how will we explain to them the source of the knowledge we give them?”
“I think the solution to the problem is obvious,” said Cassian. The bishop shrugged. “We simply tell them nothing. Everyone knows Belisarius—and Sittas—are among Justinian’s favorite generals. And you, Antonina, are known to be a close friend of the Empress. If we simply act mysterious, but emphasize the imperative necessity of maintaining complete secrecy, then John of Rhodes and all the others will assume they are involved in a project which has the highest imperial authority.” He smiled. “And my own frequent presence will assure them that the work has the blessing of the Church, as well.”
Michael spoke up. “I will also speak to the peasants. I have some small authority among them.”
Cassian laughed gaily. “Small authority? That’s a bit like Moses saying he had some tentative suggestions to make.”
Michael glared at him, but the bishop was not abashed. “That will do wonders, actually. In truth, Michael’s word will carry greater weight with Syrian common folk than anyone else’s. If he gives the work his blessing, and bids them maintain silence, be assured they will do so.”
“That still does not solve the problem of keeping our work secret from the world at large,” said Antonina. “Even if all who are engaged in the work at the estate keep silent, it will be noticed by others that there is a constant traffic of outsiders coming to and fro. We cannot do this work in isolation, Cassian. Not for long.”
Cassian glanced at Belisarius. The general’s thoughts seemed far away. The bishop spoke:
“No, but it will help. As for the rest—”
“It is the simplest thing in the world,” said Belisarius. His voice seemed cold, cold.
The general rose to his feet and walked about, accompanying his words with stiff little gestures.
“It will work as follows. Michael will quietly rally the common folk to our side. Cassian, you will serve as our intriguer within the church. Sittas, once he is brought into our conspiracy, will serve as our intriguer within the imperial court and the nobility. Unlike me, he is of the most impeccable aristocratic lineage. I will, as I must in any event, maintain my military responsibilities.”
He stopped, gazed down at Antonina.
“And Antonina will be the center of it all. She will set up residence at this villa near Daras and stay there. She will no longer accompany me with the army. She will assemble and oversee the weapons work. She will, when the time comes, take charge of training a new army.”
He waved down her developing protest. “I will help, I will help. But you are more than capable of all this, Antonina. You are at least as intelligent as any man I ever met. And these weapons are new to all of us. The methods of using them, as well. I will help, but I will not be surprised if your untrained intelligence does a better job of devising new forces and methods than my well-trained experience does. You will not have your eyes blinkered by old habits.”
He took a deep breath. “Finally, you are the perfect conduit through which all of our disparate efforts may be kept aligned and coordinated. Through you, we can all communicate, with no one suspecting our true purpose.”
Antonina’s intelligence was every bit as high as her husband proclaimed it to be. Her back grew rigid as a board, her face as stiff as a sheet of iron.
“Because everyone’s suspicion will have another target,” she said bitterly.
“Yes.” The general’s voice was calm; calm but utterly unyielding.