An Oblique Approach

Three of the four chiliarchs were rising from sleep, groggy and bleary-eyed. One of them lit a lamp. Belisarius immediately demanded to know the whereabouts of the fourth. He allowed the three chiliarchs to stammer in confusion for a few seconds before he cut through the babble.

"So. I assume Dorotheus has accompanied the two cretins in this lunacy?"

The chiliarchs began to protest. Again, Belisarius cut them short.

"Silence!" He threw himself into a chair by the table in the center of the tent. He glared about for a moment, and then slammed his palm down on the table.

"I am being generous! The Emperor may forgive the idiots, if he decides they are just stupid."

Mention of the Emperor caused all three of the chiliarchs to draw back a bit. The face of at least one of them, Belisarius thought, grew pale. But it was hard to tell. The interior of the tent was poorly lit.

Belisarius allowed the silence to fester. He knotted his brow. After a minute or so, he rose and began pacing about, exuding the image of a man lost in thoughtful calculation. Actually, he was scrutinizing the interior of the tent. He believed firmly that one could make a close assessment of officers by examining their private quarters, and took advantage of the opportunity to do so.

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."