Fortune's stroke

enamored of her own beauty and grace-that she was simply incapable of accepting rejection. She might be the kind of person who, faced with disappointment, always places the blame on others.

In the long history of the Roman Empire, Antonina reminded herself, there had been more than one empress with that mentality. Most of them had been disastrous, especially the ones whose noble birth reinforced their egotism. Antonina's friend Theodora, in truth, had the same innate temperament. But Theodora's hard life had taught the woman to discipline her own pride. A girl like Rukaiya, born into Arabia's elite, would have nothing to teach her to restrain arrogance.

'You do not seem upset by the fact,' Antonina said. The statement had almost the air of an accusation.

For the first time since she entered the chamber, life came back to Rukaiya's face. The girl chuckled. Her face exuded a cheerful acceptance of the world's whimsies. The expression, combined with the little laugh, was utterly charming.

'My family is used to it. All the women, for generations, have been skinny. My mother's thinner than I am, and she was rejected four times before my father's family decided to take a chance on her.'

Rukaiya gave Antonina a level gaze. 'I am her oldest daughter. She has had three more, and two sons. One of my sisters, and one of my brothers, died very young. But not at childbirth. My grandmother had nine children. None died in childbirth, and six survived into adulthood. Her mother-my great- grandmother-had twelve children. She died before I was born, but everyone says she had the hips of a snake.'

Rukaiya shrugged. 'It just doesn't seem to matter, to us. My mother tells me that it will be very painful, the first time, but not so bad after that. And she is not worried that I will die.'

Well, so much for that problem, thought Antonina wryly. But I'm still puzzled-

'You did not simply seem surprised, when you heard me call out your name. You also seemed upset.' Again, Antonina's statement had the air of an accusation.

The mask was back in place. Rukaiya opened her lips, as if to speak. It was obvious, to Antonina, that the girl was about to utter some sort of denial. But, after a moment, Rukaiya lowered her head and murmured: 'I was not upset, exactly. It would be a great honor, to become the wife of the negusa nagast. My family would be very proud. But-'

She paused, then raised her head. 'I have enjoyed my life. I am very happy, in my father's house. My father is a cheerful man. Very kind, and very intelligent.'

Rukaiya hesitated, groping for words. 'I have always known, of course, that someday I would be married and have to leave for another man's house. And there is a part of me that looks forward to that day. But not-' She sighed unhappily. 'Not so soon.'

Her next words came out in a rush. The girl's face was full of life, now, and her hands gestured with animation.

'I don't know what I would do, in another man's house. I am so afraid of being bored. Especially if my husband was a severe man. Most husbands are very strict with their wives. Since I was ten years old, my father has let me help him with his work. He is one of Mecca's richest merchants, and he has many caravans. I keep track of most of his accounts, and I write almost all his letters, and-'

Antonina's jaw dropped. She didn't think there were more than two dozen women in all of Arabia-and they were invariably middle-aged widows-

'You can read?' she demanded.

Rukaiya's own jaw clamped shut. For an instant, her young face reminded Antonina of a mule. A beautiful mule, true, but just as stubborn and willful.

The expression was fleeting, however. Rukaiya lowered her head. Her quick-moving hands, once again, were demurely clasped in her lap.

'My father taught me,' she said softly. 'He insists that all women in his family must know how to read. He says that's because they might be widows, someday, and have to manage their husbands' affairs.'

Again, the words started coming in a rush. 'But I think he just says that to placate my mother. She doesn't like to read. Neither do my sisters. They say it's too hard. But I love to read, and so does my father. We have had so many wonderful evenings, talking about the things we have read in books. My father owns many books. He collects them. My mother complains because it's so expensive, but that's the one subject on which my father lays down the law in our house. Most of our books are Greek, of course, but we even have-'

She stopped talking, then, interrupted by Antonina's laughter. The laughter went on for quite a while. By the time Antonina finally stopped, wiping tears from her eyes, Rukaiya's expression of shock had faded into simple curiosity.

'What's so funny?' she asked.

Antonina shook her head. 'The negusa nagast of Ethiopia is one of the world's champion bibliophiles. His father, King Kaleb, amassed the largest library south of Alexandria in his palace at Axum. In all honesty, I don't think Kaleb himself actually read any of those books. But by the time Prince Eon was fifteen, he had read all of them. I remember, when he came to Rome, how many hours he spent with my friend Irene Macrembolitissa-she is the world's greatest bibliophile-'

Antonina fell silent, staring at the girl across from her. Again, tears welled up in her eyes, as she remembered a friend she thought she would never see again.

Oh God, child, how much you remind me of Irene.

Memory made the decision. Memory of another woman-intelligent, quick-witted, active-whose own life had been frustrated, so many times, by the world's expectations.

Fuck it. We have souls, too.

'You will be happy, Rukaiya,' predicted Antonina. 'And you will never, I promise you, be bored.' Again, she wiped away tears; and, again, laughed.

'Not as that man's wife! Oh, no. You'll be keeping track of the King of King's accounts, Rukaiya, and writing his letters. He's building an empire and he's at war with the greatest power in the world. Soon enough, I think, you'll find yourself longing for a bit of tedium.'

Finally, finally, the face across from her was nothing but that of a young girl. A virgin, barely sixteen years of age. Shy, anxious, uncertain, apprehensive, eager, curious-and, of course, more than a little avid.

'Is he-? Will he-?' Rukaiya fumbled, and fumbled.

'Yes, he will like you. Yes, he will be kind. And, yes, he will give you great pleasure.'

Antonina rose and walked over. She took Rukaiya's face in her hands and fixed the girl's eyes with her own.

'Trust me, child. I know King Eon very well. Put aside all doubts and fears. You will enjoy being a woman.'

Rukaiya was beaming happily, now. Just like a bride.

Chapter 21

Garmat did not beam happily, when he first saw Rukaiya.

'She's too skinny,' he complained. Standing in his place of honor on the lower steps of the palace entrance, he turned his head and hissed in her ear: 'What were you thinking, Antonina?'

Antonina's humor was a bit frayed, because of the heat. Standing under the bare sun of southern Arabia, wearing the heavy robes of imperial formality, was not enjoyable. So, for an instant, the decorum of a Roman official was replaced by the response of a girl raised on the rough streets of Alexandria.

'Piss on you, old fart,' she hissed back. Then, remembering her duty, Antonina relented.

'I checked the family history, Garmat. All the women are slender, but none of them have had problems with it. Rukaiya's mother-'

There followed a little history lesson. Not so little, rather. Antonina had expected the issue to arise, so she had supplemented Rukaiya's own account with a more thorough investigation. Happily, the girl had not been sugar- coating the truth. For as many generations as clan memory went-which, typical of Arab tribesmen, was a