Spymaster-type information, you know. Oh, yes. Daily briefings. Essential.”
“You stay away from my paramour,” growled Sittas. But it was a tepid, tepid growl.
A chuckle swept the room.
Irene patted his hand gently. “Now, now. Don’t you worry, dear. I really think I’m capable of dealing with the occasional wolf.”
“Greek lady eat wolf for lunch,” commented Ousanas. John of Rhodes cast a dark look upon the dawazz. Belisarius, from experience, could have told him it was a waste of effort. Ousanas simply grinned, and added:
“I ignorant savage, of course. Miserable slave, too. Know almost nothing. But know enough not to chase woman ten times smarter than me.”
Belisarius cleared his throat. “We seem to be getting side-tracked. Other than artisans-and the books you talked about-will there be anything else you need?”
John frowned, thought for a moment.
“Nothing much, Belisarius. Some equipment, and a few more tools, but nothing fancy. Substances, of course. Elements. Chemicals. Some of those will be a bit expensive.”
Sittas’ eyes became slits.
“How expensive? And what kind of- elements?”
Very narrow slits.
“Are we talking gold here? Seems to me every time you alchemist types start anything you right off begin yapping about-”
John laughed. “Relax, Sittas! I have no use for gold, I assure you. Or silver. One of the reasons they’re precious metals is because they’re inert.”
A questioning glance. Sittas’ eyes practically disappeared in response.
“I know what inert means! You-”
“Enough,” said Belisarius. The room became instantly silent. Almost.
“My, he does that well,” remarked Irene softly. To Sittas, in the sort of whisper which can be heard by everyone: “Maybe you should try that, dear. Instead of that bellowing roar you so favor.”
“ Enough.” Now, even Irene was silent.
Belisarius rose. “That’s it, then. Whatever you need, John, while I’m gone, you can either get from Antonina or”-here a sharp stare-“Sittas.”
Sittas grimaced, but did not protest his poverty. Belisarius continued:
“As for the rest of us, I think our course is clear. As clear, at least, as circumstances permit. When I return from India, hopefully, I’ll bring with me enough information to guide us further. Until then, we’ll just have to do our best.”
He looked at his wife. “And now-I would like to spend the rest of the day, and the evening, with my wife and my son.”
Once Photius drowsed off, early in the evening, Belisarius and Antonina were alone. They had never been separated for long, since the day they first met. Now, they would be separated for at least a year.
Future loss gave force to present passion. Belisarius got very little sleep that night.
Antonina did not sleep at all. Once her husband finally succumbed to slumber, from sheer exhaustion, she stayed awake through the few hours left in that night. That precious night. That- last night, she feared.
By the time the sun arose, Antonina was awash in grief. Bleak certainty. She would never see him again.
Her son rescued her from that bottomless pit. At daybreak, Photius wandered into the room, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Will Daddy be coming back?” he asked, timidly. His little face was scrunched with worry.
The boy had never called Belisarius by that name before. The sound of it drove all despair from her soul.
“Of course he will, Photius. He’s my husband. And he’s your father.”
At midmorning, Belisarius and his companions rode out of the villa. At the boundary of the estate, they took the road which led to Antioch and, beyond, to Seleuceia on the coast. At Seleuceia they would board ship for the voyage to Egypt and, beyond, to Adulis on the Red Sea. And beyond, to Axum in the Ethiopian highlands. And beyond, to India.
Belisarius rode at the head of the little party. Eon rode on his left, Garmat on his right. Behind them rode the two sarwen. Behind the sarwen, the three cataphracts.
Ousanas traveled on foot. The dawazz, it developed, had a pronounced distaste for all manner of animal transport. Belisarius thought his attitude was peculiar, but-the man himself was peculiar, when you came right down to it. The cataphracts thought he was probably mad. The sarwen, from long experience, were certain of it.
Early on in the journey, young Menander made so bold as to ask the dawazz himself.
“Who is mad, boy? I? Not think so. Madmen place lives on top great beasts with good reason wish men dead. I be horse or donkey or camel, boy, you be squashed melon right quick. I be elephant, you be squashed seeds.”
When Menander reported the conversation to his veteran seniors-not, be it said, without a certain concern, and a questioning glance at his own horse-Anastasius and Valentinian shrugged the matter off. They were far too deep into their own misery to fret over such outlandish notions.
“Perfect duty, it was,” whined Valentinian.
“Ideal,” rumbled Anastasius, with heartful agreement. “Best garrison post I ever saw.”
“A villa, no less.”
“Wine, women, and song.”
“Fuck the songs.”
“And now-!”
Mutter, mutter, mutter.
“What was that?”
“I think he said ’fuck adventurous leaders,’ ” replied Menander. The lad frowned. “But maybe not. I can’t always understand him when he mutters, even though he does it a lot. Maybe he said: ’fuck avaricious feeders.’ ”
The frown deepened. “But that doesn’t make a lot of sense either, does it? Especially on a trip-” A sudden thought; a sudden worry; a quick glance at his mount.
“Do you old-timers know something about horses that I don’t?”
The conversation at the head of the little column, on the other hand, was not gloomy at all. Even Belisarius, once the estate fell out of sight, regained his usual good spirits. And then, not an hour later, great spirits.
There are many sweet pleasures in this world. Among those-unsung though it is-ranks the pleasure of being asked a question which you were trying to figure out how to ask yourself.
Garmat cleared his throat. “General Belisarius. Prince Eon and I have been discussing-for some time now, actually, but we only came to a decision last night-well, the negusa nagast will naturally have to make the final decision, but we are quite certain he will agree-well, the point is-”
“Oh, for the love of Christ!” exclaimed Eon. “General, we would like to accompany you and your men to India.” The prince closed his mouth with a snap, straightened his back, stared firmly ahead.
Belisarius smiled-and not crookedly. “I would be delighted!” He turned in his saddle-so easy, that motion, with stirrups! — and looked behind.
“All of you?” he asked. “Including the sarwen?” The general examined the two Ethiopian soldiers. Outlandish men, they were, from a little known and mysterious country. But he knew their breed perfectly.
“Oh, yes,” replied Garmat. “They are sworn to Prince Eon’s personal service.”
Belisarius now looked to Ousanas. The dawazz was striding alongside his prince.
“And you, Ousanas?”
“Of course! Must keep fool prince out of trouble.”
“You don’t consider this trouble?”
The dawazz grinned. “Voyage to distant India? Enter Malwa gaping maw with madman foreign general intent on stealing Malwa teeth? Sanest thing fool prince ever do.”
Belisarius laughed. “You call that sane?”
