Overall, he was impressed. The chiliarchs maintained clean and orderly quarters. There was no indication of the drunken sloppiness which had characterized the tents of a number of the former officers of his own army. He also noted the austerity of their living arrangements. Other than weapons and necessary gear, the chiliarchs’ tent was bare of possessions.
The general was pleased. He prized austere living on campaign—not from any religious or moral impulse, but simply because he valued the ability to react and move quickly above all other characteristics in an officer. And he had found, with very few exceptions, that officers who filled their command quarters with lavish creature comforts were sluggards when confronted by any sudden change in circumstances.
He decided the pose of thoughtful concentration had gone on long enough. He stopped pacing, straightened his back, and announced decisively:
“There’s nothing for it. We’ll just have to make do with what we have.”
He turned to the three chiliarchs, who were now clustered together on the other side of the table.
“Assemble your army. We march at once.”
“But our commanders aren’t here!” protested one of the cavalry chiliarchs. Belisarius gave him a fierce look of disgust.
“I’m aware of that, Pharas. And you can be quite sure that if we fail to intercept the Persians before they march into Aleppo, the Emperor will know of their absence also. And do as he sees fit. But in the absence of Bouzes and Coutzes, I am in command of this army. And I have no intention of imitating their dereliction of duty.”
His announcement brought a chill into the room.
“The Persians are marching?” asked Hermogenes, the infantry chiliarch.
“The day after tomorrow.”
“How do you know?” demanded Pharas.
Belisarius sneered. “Doesn’t the Army of Lebanon have any spies?” he demanded. The chiliarchs were silent. The general’s sneer turned into a truly ferocious scowl.
“Oh, that’s marvelous!” he exclaimed. “You have no idea what the enemy is doing. So, naturally, you decided to send two full cavalry regiments charging off on a wild goose chase. Just marvelous!”
Pharas’ face was ashen. To some extent, it was the pallor of rage. But, for the most part, it was simple fear. Watching him, Belisarius estimated the man’s intelligence as rather dismal. But even Pharas understood the imperial fury which would fall on the chief officers of the Army of Lebanon if they allowed the Persians to march on Aleppo unopposed.
The junior cavalry chiliarch, Eutyches, suddenly slammed his hand onto the table angrily.
“Mother of God! I told them—” He bit off the words. Clamped his jaw tight. For a moment, he and Belisarius stared at each other. Then, with a faint nod, and an even fainter smile, Belisarius indicated his understanding and appreciation of Eutyches’ position.
The infantry chiliarch spoke then. The timber of his voice reflected Hermogenes’ youth, but there was not the slightest quaver in it. “Let’s move. Now. We all know that Coutzes and Bouzes agreed to combine forces with Belisarius’ army. Since they’re not here, that makes him the rightful commander.”
Eutyches immediately nodded his agreement. After a moment, reluctantly, so did Pharas.
Belisarius seized the moment. “Rouse your army and assemble them into marching formation,” he commanded. “Immediately.” He stalked out of the tent.
Once outside, Belisarius and Maurice returned to their horses. The first glimmer of dawn was beginning to show on the eastern horizon.
Belisarius gazed about admiringly. “It’s going to be a lovely day.”
“It’s going to be miserably hot,” countered Maurice.
Belisarius chuckled quietly. “You are the most morose man I have ever met.”
“I am not morose. I am pessimistic. My cousin Ignace, now, there’s a morose man. You’ve never met him, I don’t believe?”
“How could I have met him? Didn’t you tell me he hasn’t left his house for fifteen years?”
“Yes, that’s true.” The hecatontarch eyed Belisarius stonily. “He’s terrified of swindlers. And rightfully so.”
Belisarius chuckled again. “A lovely day, I tell you.” Then, businesslike: “I’m going to stay here, Maurice. If I don’t chivvy this army, they’ll take forever to get moving. I want you to return to the fort and make sure everything goes properly. I think Phocas and Constantine will manage everything well enough. But I haven’t worked with them in the field before, so I want you to keep an eye on things. Remember the two key points: keep—”