he gestured grandly- “the great General Belisarius assures that size of army matters nothing.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard him say that before,” grumbled Valentinian. “Just before all hell broke loose.”
Anastasius was already entering the tent which the Romans had set up in the bow. Loud cries and shouts rang over the ship. The Indian crewmen had also seen the approaching fleet of galleys.
Valentinian marched to the port side and leaned over the rail, gripping it in his lean, sinewy hands. The dark- eyed cataphract glared toward the approaching pirate vessels. His scarred, pock-marked face twisted into a grimace. “Just once,” he growled bitterly, “ just once, I’d like to outnumber the enemy for a change. Fuck skill. Fuck cunning. Fuck strategy. Fuck tactics. Give me numbers, dammit!” His voice trailed off into muttering.
“What was that last?” asked Belisarius mildly. Valentinian was silent.
“Sounded like ’fuck philosophical generals,’ ” said Ousanas brightly.
Valentinian glowered at him. The dawazz spread his hands. “Maybe not. Ignorant worthless slave. Speak terrible Greek. Fierce cataphract maybe said ’fuck philandering genitals.’ Very ethical sentiment! Most inappropriate for occasion, but very moral. Very moral!”
Belisarius’ attention was distracted by a commotion. Venandakatra had made his appearance on the deck. He emerged from his cabin amidships, followed by a gaggle of Mahaveda priests.
The Byzantines and Ethiopians had seen almost nothing of him since they had embarked on the Indian vessel at Adulis. Venandakatra’s representatives had explained the Indian lord’s apparent rudeness as being due to seasickness.
Watching the spry, if waddling, manner in which Venandakatra scurried about, Belisarius had his doubts.
“Seasick!” snorted Eon.
Venandakatra was shouting orders in his shrill, high-pitched voice. Within seconds, dozens of Ye-tai warriors scrambled out of their own tents and began lining the rail. They were bearing bows, swords, and shields, and quickly began donning helmets and half-armor.
The Ye-tai were followed by a dozen warriors whom Belisarius recognized as Malwa kshatriyas. These emerged from the hatch located in the deck just forward of Venandakatra’s cabin. They were bearing no weapons beyond short swords, and wore only the lightest leather armor. But they were heavily burdened nonetheless. Divided into pairs, each pair was carrying a large trough made of some odd, lumpy wood which Belisarius had never seen before.
“That’s bamboo,” explained Garmat. “It’s hollow on the inside, like a pipe. They’ve split it down the middle and carved out the internal partitions.”
“This is what you were telling John of Rhodes about, isn’t it?”
Garmat nodded. “Yes. I have never seen the Indian weapons myself, but these are quite as described by those of our traders who have seen them in action. From a distance only, however. I think we are about to get a firsthand view.”
“Venandakatra’s not happy about that,” commented Eon.
Belisarius gazed at the Indian lord. Venandakatra was consulting with his cluster of priests. All of them were casting unfriendly glances toward the Romans and Axumites standing in the bow. After a moment, one of the priests detached himself from the group and headed toward them.
“I’ll handle this,” said Belisarius.
When the priest reached them, Belisarius didn’t even give him the chance to speak.
“No.”
The priest opened his mouth.
“Absolutely not.”
“You must go below!”
“Under no conditions will we do so.”
At that moment Anastasius lumbered out of the tent, with Menander close behind. Both cataphracts were fully armed and armored, except for their lances. They were also bearing Belisarius and Valentinian’s weapons and armor. Their arrival distracted the priest, who began gobbling further protests. His protests became positively shrill when he spotted the two sarwen charging out of their own tent, likewise laden with weapons. An abundance of weapons-each sarwen was carrying a cluster of javelins as well as swords, shields, and huge-bladed spears.
Within moments, all the Romans and Axumites were busily donning their armor and taking up their weapons. The priest was now practically gibbering.
“Anastasius,” commanded the general. “Do something impressively unfriendly.”
Anastasius immediately seized the priest by the scruff of the neck and his crotch and tossed him back toward the cluster of priests amidships. The priest managed to land on his feet, more or less, but he immediately stumbled out of control and hurtled into his cohorts, bowling two of them right over.
Venandakatra screeched with fury. A small crowd of Ye-tai warriors surged forward.
Without any orders from Belisarius, all three cataphracts immediately notched arrows and drew their bows. The two sarwen raised their javelins. Eon and Garmat hefted their stabbing spears. Belisarius drew his sword. Ousanas lounged against the rail.
“What are you playing at?” hissed Menander.
Ousanas gaped. “Me? Miserable slave! Not fit for noble type foolishness.”
“Ousanas!” commanded Eon.
The dawazz sighed. “Most unreasonable prince.” He lazed forward. “Play old game?” he asked.
Eon immediately gave Ousanas his great spear. The prince shed his baldric and sword and then began to walk, unarmed, toward the Malwa crowd. Behind him, Ousanas motioned the Ye-tai warriors to clear a lane. Puzzled, but hearing no countervailing orders from the priests, the Ye-tai did as the dawazz bade them.
Eon walked right through the silent Malwa crowd until he reached the cabin which was built around the base of the mainmast. As soon as he reached the cabin, the prince turned and backed up against it. He crossed his arms and spread his legs about a foot apart. He was standing about twenty yards from the Axumites and Romans in the bow.
Ousanas casually jabbed the stabbing spear into the deck of the ship. The huge blade sank a full inch into the hard wood and stood erect. Without a word, one of the sarwen handed him a javelin. The dawazz hefted the javelin lightly and then, with a motion whose speed and power stunned everyone watching, hurled the javelin across the length of the deck.
The weapon sank into the wall of the cabin almost the full length of the blade. The shaft of the weapon quivered like a tuning fork. About two inches from the prince’s left ear.
A moment later, another javelin was sailing across the deck. This one plunged into the wood about two inches from Eon’s right ear. Not seconds later, a third javelin thundered into the cabin wall right between the prince’s legs. About two inches below his crotch.
“Mary, Mother of God,” whispered Valentinian.
Anastasius drew a deep breath. “That’s incredible spear work. Amazing!”
“Fuck the spear work,” growled Valentinian. “The kid never even blinked! That’s amazing. I may never fuck again, just from watching.”
The prince suddenly laughed. He and his dawazz exchanged huge grins across the deck of the ship.
“Very foolish prince,” mused Ousanas, shaking his head. “But got elephant heart. Been that way since boy.”
Ousanas plucked the great stabbing spear out of the deck and sauntered toward Eon. The warriors and priests scuttled out of his way. The dawazz smiled upon them beatifically.
“Intelligent persons!” he exclaimed. “Very most sane and logical Indian people!” He bestowed a particularly engaging grin upon Venandakatra.
When Ousanas reached Eon, he and the prince assisted each other in withdrawing the javelins from the cabin walls. More than anything else, perhaps, it was the obvious effort being exerted by these two very strong men which drove home just how ferocious those javelin casts had been.
Belisarius sheathed his sword and strode over to Venandakatra.
“We are soldiers,” he told the Indian lord sternly, “not children. We will not be penned in the hold during an attack.”
He matched Venandakatra’s glare with one of his own. After a moment, the Vile One looked away.
“Besides,” added Belisarius, turning away and pointing to the approaching fleet of pirate vessels, “you may
