A stream of
The African in question grinned even wider.
'May I lend you a hand?' he asked pleasantly.
Irene glared up at him furiously. 'Yes!' she snarled. 'Get me into this stupid fucking boat!'
'No problem, noble Greek lady,' said Ousanas cheerfully. The dawazz leapt onto the rail of Anton-ina's flagship, gauged the matter for perhaps a micro-second, and sprang directly down into the boat below. He landed lightly on his feet, easily finding his balance. Then, turned to face Irene. The spymaster was swinging against the hull of the larger ship above him. Her face was pale; the knuckles of her hands, clutching the rope ladder, were white as snow.
'Jump,' he said.
Irene's eyes widened. She stared down at him, as if ogling a dangerous lunatic.
'Jump,' repeated Ousanas. 'I will catch you.'
'You are completely insane!' she shrieked.
Ousanas glanced up at the flagship above. Antonina and Eon were both leaning over the rail. Antonina's face was filled with deep concern. Eon's, with a struggle to contain his laughter.
'Eon!' shouted Ousanas. 'Cut the ladder!'
'Good idea!' boomed Eon. The Prince drew his blade from its baldric. It was a typical Axumite sword, other than being more finely made than most. Which is to say, it was short, square-tipped, and very heavy-more like a huge cleaver than a Roman spatha.
Irene's terrified eyes stared up at the thing. The sword would obviously cut through the thin ropes of the ladder like an axe.
Eon, muscled like a Hercules, raised the blade high.
She fell no more than four feet. Ousanas caught her easily, easily; then, neatly, set up her upright on the deck of the skiff. An instant later, she collapsed onto a pile of cordage coiled in the bilge.
'You are a foul creature,' she hissed, 'from a foul land.' Gasp, gasp. 'Now I know where Homer got the inspiration for the Cyclops.'
Ousanas clucked his tongue. 'So cruel,' he complained. 'So vicious!'
From above came Antonina's voice.
'All you all right, Irene?'
The spymaster took a deep shuddering breath. Then, suddenly, burst into a smile.
'I'm quite fine, actually. The first mission is accomplished!'
She transferred the smile onto Ousanas.
'I apologize for my insulting and intemperate remark.'
Ousanas winced, awaiting the inevitable.
'I did not mean to slander the memory of an honorable monster of legend.'
Above, Antonina and Eon turned to face each other.
'You are certain, Antonina?' asked the Prince. 'You have your own difficult task ahead of you. My sarwen would be of help. I have the authority to use them any way I wish. As I told you, my father's offer is for a full alliance.'
Antonina shook her head.
'No, Eon. The negusa nagast's offer we accept, certainly. Theodora gave me the authority to seek out that alliance myself, in fact. But if I can't establish my authority in Egypt with the Roman troops at my disposal, another four hundred Axumite soldiers won't make the difference.'
She cast a quick glance toward the Ethiopian warship. The craft was rolling gently in the waves just a hundred yards away. The rail was lined with soldiers of the Dakuen sarwe. There were, she estimated, about fifty of them. The rest of Eon's troops were waiting for him at the small port of Pelusium, at the far eastern end of the Nile Delta.
'Besides,' she added, 'the presence of Axumite sarwen would create political problems. I want to quell the ultra-Chalcedonian fanatics in Egypt without alienating the majority of orthodox Greeks. You know they'll look on Ethiopians as allies of the Monophysites. Foreign heretics, used by the empire against them.'
Thoughtfully, Eon nodded. Antonina laid a friendly hand on his arm.
'So, I must decline your offer. Though I
'I will.'
'Pass on to him also Rome's agreement to the proposed alliance. When she gets to Axum, Irene can negotiate the details with the negusa nagast. She is fully authorized to do so, and you may tell your father that she carries Empress Theodora's complete confidence. Providing an escort for her is the best use of your sarwen, at the moment.'
She broke into her own smile.
'And I'm happier this way. I hate sending Irene into that maelstrom in India. But at least I'll have the comfort of knowing she has you, and Ousanas, and four hundred Dakuen to protect her.'
Her shoulders shuddered, just slightly. 'For that matter, I'll be happier knowing she doesn't have to face Red Sea pirates without-'
Behind him stood three officers of the Dakuen sarwe. Leaders of the Prince's own royal regiment, they considered themselves-quite rightly-as elite soldiers. And seamen, for that matter. They matched the Prince's growl with their own glares, Eon's barking laugh with their own sneers of derision.
Meat.
Antonina grinned. She gave the Prince a warm embrace. He returned it, somewhat gingerly, in the way that a courteous and well-bred young royal returns the embrace of a respected, admired-and very voluptuous-older woman.
'Be off,' she whispered. 'Take care of Irene for me, and for Theodora. And take care of yourself.'
A moment later, Eon and his officers made their own easy and effortless descent into the skiff. Once they were aboard, the line was cast off and the boat began pulling away. The officers did their own rowing. In the Axumite tradition, they had all risen from the ranks. They were accustomed to the task, and did it with familiar expertise. Quickly, the skiff pulled toward the waiting Ethiopian warship.
Antonina and Irene stared at each other, for a time, during that short voyage. Close friends-best friends-they had become, during the past three years of joint work and struggle against the Malwa menace. Each of them, now, was taking her own route into the maw of the beast. In all likelihood, they would never see each other again.
Antonina fought back her tears.
'God, I'll miss you,' she whispered. 'So much.'
Thirty yards away, she saw Irene turn her head aside. She did not miss the slight sheen in those distant eyes. Irene, she knew, was fighting back her own tears.
Antonina tore her gaze from the figure of her friend and stared at Eon. The Prince was sitting in the stern- sheet of the skiff. Antonina could see his head slowly turning, as he scanned the surface of the waves.
Already, she realized, Eon was fulfilling his promise to protect Irene from any danger.
Then, seeing the arrogant ferocity lurking in Eon's huge shoulders, she could not help smiling. She found great comfort in those shoulders.
Sharks, of course, do not have shoulders. But if they did, so might a great shark confront the monsters of the sea.
Tuna. Squid. Devil-rays.
By the time the skiff bearing Irene reached its destination, other skiffs were making their own way to the Axumite warship from other Roman craft, bearing their own cargoes.
