Destiny's shield

'He usually does that much better, I seem to recall,' mused Antonina.

'Much better,' agreed Maurice. 'The key is under-statement. The sense of steel under the soft voice.'

Belisarius began to roar again; but, seeing the widening grins, managed to bring himself under control.

'Why not?' he demanded, through clenched teeth.

Maurice's grin faded. The grizzled veteran stroked his stiff, curly gray beard. 'I won't do it,' he replied, 'because she's right and you're wrong. You are thinking like a fretful husband-instead of a general.'

He waved down Belisarius' protest. 'She doesn't need me because she's not going to be fighting pitched battles on the open field against vastly superior forces. You are.'

Antonina nodded.

Again, Belisarius began to protest; again, Maurice drove him down.

'Besides, she'll have Ashot. That stubby little Armenian may not have quite as much battlefield experience as I do, but he's not far short of the mark. You know that as well as I do. He's certainly got the experience to handle whatever Antonina will run up against in Alexandria.'

'But-'

'Oh-be quiet, young man,' snapped Maurice. For just an instant, the chiliarch's stony face reverted to an expression he had not worn in years. Not since the days he had taken under his wing a precocious teenage officer, fresh from his father's little estate in Thrace, and taught him the trade of war.

'Have you already forgotten your own battle plan?'

Belisarius sat back. Maurice snorted.

'Thought so. Since when do you subordinate strategy to tactics, young man? Alexandria's just a step on the road. Your whole strategy against the Malwa pivots on seapower. While you distract them in Persia, Antonina will lead a flanking attack against the enemy's logistics, in alliance-we hope-with the Kingdom of Axum. The Ethiopians, with their naval power, are critical to that plan. For that matter, the Axumite navy will be essential for providing support to the rebellion in Majarashtra which you did everything in your power to foment, while you were in India. They'll need cannons, gunpowder-everything you've talked about supplying them. That's why you've always insisted on building our armaments industry in Alexandria. So we can provide logistical support for the Ethiopians and the Indian rebellion.'

The chiliarch took a deep breath. 'For all those reasons, Ashot is far better suited to serve as her adviser than I am. The man's a former seaman. What I know about boats-' He snapped his fingers. 'Not to mention the Ethiopians,' he rolled on. 'Ashot's familiar with them-even speaks the language. I know exactly two words in Ge'ez. Beer, and the future subjunctive tense of the verb 'to copulate.' That'll be useful, coordinating an allied naval campaign and a transoceanic logistics route!'

Belisarius slumped into his chair.

'All right,' he said sourly. 'But I still insist that she take Valentinian and Anastasius! They're the best fighters we've got. She'll need the protection they can-'

'For what?' demanded Maurice. He planted his thick hands on his knees and leaned forward. For a moment, he and Belisarius matched glares. Then Maurice's lips quirked. He cocked an eye at the little Egyptian woman sitting across the table.

'Are you planning to lead any cavalry charges, girl?'

Antonina giggled.

'Furious boarding parties, storming across the decks of ships?'

Giggle, giggle.

'Leading the troops scaling the walls of a town under siege?'

Giggle, giggle, giggle.

'Cut and thrust? Hack and hew?'

The giggles erupted into outright laughter.

'Actually,' choked Antonina, 'I was thinking more along the lines of guiding from the rear. You know. Ladylike.'

She leaned back, arching her neck haughtily, and began pointing with an imperious finger. 'You there! That way. And you-over there. Move smartly, d'you hear?'

Belisarius rubbed his face. 'It's not that simple, Maurice-and you know it, even if Antonina doesn't.'

For a moment, the old crooked smile came back. A feeble travesty of it, rather.

'Aren't you the one who taught me the law of battle? 'Everything gets fucked up as soon as the enemy arrives. That's why-' '

'— he's called the enemy,' concluded Maurice. The veteran shook his head. 'That's not the point, Belisarius. It may well happen, despite all our plans, that Antonina finds herself swept up in the fray. So be it. She'll still have hundreds of Thracian bucellarii protecting her, each and every one of whom-as you damn well know-will lay down his life for her, if need be. None of them may be quite as murderous as Valentinian or Anastasius, but they're still the best soldiers in the world. In my humble opinion. If they can't protect her, Valentinian and Anastasius won't make the difference.

'Whereas,' he snarled, 'the two of them might very well make the difference for you. Because unlike Antonina, you will be leading cavalry charges and hacking and hewing way more than any respectable general has any business doing.'

Glare.

'As you well know.'

Maurice stared at Belisarius in silence. The general slouched further down in his chair. Further. Further.

'Never actually seen him pout before,' mused the chiliarch. Again, he cocked his eye at Antonina. 'Have you?'

'Oh, certainly!' piped the little woman. 'Any number of times. Intimate circumstances, of course. When I have a headache and refuse to smear olive oil all over his-'

'Enough,' whined Belisarius.

Antonina and Maurice peered at him with identical, quizzical expressions. Much like two mice might study a whimpering piece of cheese.

Several hours later, Belisarius was in a more philosophical mood.

'I suppose it'll work out all right, in the end,' he said, almost complacently.

Antonina levered herself up on her elbow and smiled down at her husband.

'Feeling less anxiety-ridden, are we?'

Belisarius stretched out his legs and clasped his hands behind his head.

'Now that I've had more time to think about it,' he allowed graciously, 'I've decided that perhaps Maurice was-'

'Liar!' laughed Antonina, slapping his arm. 'You haven't been doing any thinking at all since we came to bed! Other than figuring out new and bizarre positions from which to stick your-'

'Don't be coarse, woman,' grunted Belisarius. 'Besides, I didn't hear you complaining. Rather the opposite, judging from the noises you were making.'

'You didn't hear me claim that I was enjoying the metaphysics of the enterprise, either.'

She sprawled flat on the bed, aping her husband's pose. Hands clasped behind her head, legs stretched out.

'I say,' she pontificated, 'now that I've had a bit of time to ponder the question-in between getting fucked silly-I have come to the conclusion that perhaps that uncouth Maurice fellow may have raised the odd valid point, here and there.'

Belisarius eyed his wife's naked body, glistening with sweat. Antonina smiled seraphically. She took a deep breath, swelling her heavy breasts, then languidly spread her legs.

'Ontologically speaking, of course,' she continued, 'the man's daft. But the past several hours of epistemological discourse have led me to the tentative conclusion that perhaps-'

She spread her legs wider. Took another deep breath.

'— some of the fellow's more Socratic excogitations may have elucidated aspects of the purely phenomenological ramifications of-'