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careful hand, Flavius had kept his overriding purpose well hidden. The city he needed to take possession of was not Naples but Rome. To do that he must get to the city before Theodahad reinforced it to such a degree that a siege would be difficult, if not impossible – the Eternal City, well defended, was too huge a task for an army of the size he led.
    Naples mattered only in that, like Rhegium, he could not leave it behind and hostile on what was his line of communication and his possible line of retreat in case of failure. Outside a very tight circle of senior commanders such an eventuality was never discussed, but it would be a poor general who did not consider the possibility. Every one of his inferior commanders had been just as circumspect as he, but they too would keep it in mind, the object in falling back being to keep the army intact so as to fight another day.
    ‘Stephanus, I feel you have been honourable in this.’
    ‘I seek only that which is best for my city, magister .’
    ‘Tell me, if I accede to these demands will that get me what I want?’
    The envoy, a plump and prosperous-looking individual with greying curls and rounded cheeks had the good grace to look embarrassed, which prompted Flavius to look kindly upon him.
    ‘I bid you go back to your council of notables and tell them I agree.’
    Flavius looked at the list once more so did not see the surprise on the face of Stephanus. He was being told that he would be required to pay a huge indemnity in talents of gold; that his soldiers could not enter the city and he could only do so by invitation, while the Goths in the fortress would be given the option to remain or depart unharmed, added to which his fleet must return to Sicily, this to be verified by a Neapolitan escort vessel.
    ‘ Magister , I—’
    Flavius held up his hand to stop the clearly uncomfortable envoy, who even with his plump cheeks seemed to suddenly age, so concerned was his expression, which underlined what Flavius supposed: accept these demands and more would follow.
    ‘You are an honest man, Stephanus and I suspect that you are singular in that regard, but tell your fellow citizens this. My design on their city is one in which I seek to secure my own safety and that of my men. I have no wish to fight to attain that but if I must I will, and do not let them think their walls will be enough to protect them. I bid them consider this. Naples is not the first fortified place to defy the kind of men I lead, so I suggest they consider the fate of those which did so in the past.’
    Stephanus tried to speak but he could not find the words to respond; he merely bowed low and left. Flavius followed him out of the tent and looked south to where the great volcano of Vesuvius smoked from its cone, that sending out a larger belch of sulphur,which seemed to him, as he crossed himself, to be a harbinger of something awful.
    ‘Solomon, a call to my officers, if you please, to assemble here so we can finalise the plans for the assault on Naples.’
    ‘They will not surrender?’ Photius asked.
    ‘No. They think they can keep us talking and to no purpose.’
    As was supposed, the acceptance of such conditions did not satisfy the likes of Pastor and Asclepiodotus or the factions they led; such men had made up their minds to resist from the very beginning, fearing the Goths more than Flavius Belisarius. Put upon Stephanus was again the unfortunate bearer of this news, at which point Flavius gave him the option of staying within the Byzantine camp or returning to Naples. Dignified as ever, he chose to go home.

C HAPTER T HREE
    T he first aggressive act was the cutting of the aqueduct, but it was imparted to Flavius by a sympathetic citizen that there were too many wells in the city for this to be totally effective. Time being of the essence – with winter coming the place of safety lay within the walls of Rome – Flavius could not depend on starvation to bring about a surrender, which meant a