Destiny's shield

'He will age,' pronounced the Emperor. 'Soon enough, he will need a wife.'

Again, the stern look. 'So. Tell me about the Emperor Photius. I do not ask for anything but your personal opinion of the boy himself, Maurice. You will say he is a child. And I will respond that the child is father to the man. Tell me about the man Photius.'

For just a moment, Khusrau's imperial manner faltered. 'The girl is very dear to me, you see. I would not wish to see her abused.'

Maurice groped for words. Hesitated; vacillated; jittered back and forth in his mind. He was floundering in waters much too deep for him. Imperial waters, for the sake of Christ!

Then, as his eyes roamed about, they happened to meet those of Tahmina. Shy eyes. Uncertain eyes.

Fearful eyes.

That, Maurice understood.

He took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice had more in it than usual of the Thracian accent of his peasant upbringing. 'A good lad, he is, Your Majesty. A sweet-tempered boy. Not nasty-spirited in the least. Bright, too, I think. It's a bit early to tell yet, of course. Precocious lads-which he is-sometimes fritter it all away as they get too sure of themselves. But Photius-no, I think not.' He stopped, bringing himself up short. 'I really shouldn't say anything more,' he announced. 'It's not my place.'

Khusrau's eyes bore into him. 'Damn all that!' he snapped. 'I only want the answer to a simple question. Would you marry your daughter to him?'

Maurice started to protest that he had no daughter-not that he knew of, at least- but the sight of Tahmina's eyes stilled the words.

That, he understood. That, he could answer.

'Oh, yes,' he whispered. 'Oh, yes.'

Chapter 28

Alexandria

Autumn, 531 A.D.

As her ships approached the Great Harbor of Alexandria, Antonina began to worry that her entire fleet might capsize. It seemed to her, at a glance, that the soldiers on every one of her ships were crowding the starboard rails, eager for a look at the world-famous Pharos.

The great lighthouse was perched on a small island, also called Pharos, which was connected to the mainland by an artificial causeway known as the Heptastadium. The causeway, in addition to providing access to the lighthouse, also served to divide the Great Harbor from the Eunostus Harbor on the west.

Built in three huge 'stories,' the Pharos towered almost four hundred feet high. The lowest section was square in design, the second octagonal, and the third cylindrical. At the very top of the cylindrical structure was a room in which a great fire was kept burning at all hours of the day and night. The light produced by that fire was magnified and projected to seaward by a reflecting device. At night, the light could be seen for a tremendous distance.

She and her troops had seen that light only a few hours earlier, as her fleet approached Alexandria in the early hours of the morning. Now, two hours after dawn, the beam seemed pallid. But in the darkness, the light of the Pharos had truly lived up to its reputation. And now that they could see it clearly, so did the lighthouse itself.

Her soldiers were absolutely packing the starboard rails. Antonina was on the verge of issuing orders-futile ones, probably-when a cry from the lookout in the bow drew her attention.

'Ships approaching!' he bellowed. 'Dromons! Eight dromons!'

She scrambled down the ladder from the poop deck and hurried along the starboard catwalk to the bow. Within a minute, she was standing alongside the lookout, peering at the small fleet which was emerging from the Great Harbor.

Eight dromons, just as he had said. Five of them were full-size, the other three somewhat smaller. In all, she estimated that there were at least one and a half thousand soldiers manning those dromons. Most of them were oarsmen, but, after a quick count, she decided there were well over four hundred marines aboard as well.

Armed and armored. And the oarsmen would also have weapons ready to hand, in the event of a boarding action.

As she watched, seven of the dromons spread out, forming a barrier across the entrance to the Great Harbor. The eighth, one of the smaller ones, began rowing toward her.

She felt someone at her elbow. Turning her head, she saw that Hermogenes had joined her, along with two of his tribunes and the captain of her flagship.

'What are your orders?' asked the captain.

'Stop the ship,' she said. 'And signal the rest of the fleet to do likewise.'

A pained look came on the captain's face, but he obeyed instantly.

'What did I say wrong this time?' grumbled Antonina.

Hermogenes chuckled. 'Don't know. I'm not a seaman either. But I'm sure you don't just 'stop' a ship. Much less a whole fleet! That's way too logical and straightforward. Probably something like: 'belay all forward progress' and 'relay the signal for all ships to emulate execution.' '

Smiling, Antonina resumed her study of the approaching dromon. The warship was two hundred yards away, now.

'I assume that dromon is bearing envoys.'

'From whom?' he asked. Antonina shrugged.

'We'll find out soon enough.'

She pushed herself away from the rail. 'When they arrive, usher them into my cabin. I'll wait for them there.'

Hermogenes nodded. 'Good idea. It'll make you seem more imperial than if you met them on deck.'

'The hell with that,' muttered Antonina. 'It'll make me seem taller. I had that chair in my cabin specially designed for it.' Ruefully, she looked down at her body. 'As short as I am, I can't intimidate anybody standing up.'

As she hurried down the catwalk toward her cabin, Antonina noted that the appearance of the eight dromons had at least had the salutory effect of eliminating the danger of capsizing her ships. The soldiers of her fleet had left off their sight-seeing and were taking up battle positions.

She stopped for a moment, steadying herself against a stay. Now that Antonina's fleet had come to a halt, the flagship was wallowing in the waves, drifting slowly before the wind. The sea was calm that morning, however, and the wind not much more than a light breeze. The ship's motion was gentle.

Searching the sea for John's gunship, Antonina spotted the Theodora within seconds. To her satisfaction, she saw that John was already tacking to the northwest. In the event of a conflict, the gunship would be in perfect position to sail downwind toward the dromons blocking the harbor.

Ashot came to meet her.

'There'll be several envoys from that ship'-she pointed to the dromon-'coming aboard. Hermogenes will usher them into my cabin. I want you and-' She broke off, studying the officers in the oncoming warship. Taking a count, to be precise. '-and four of your cataphracts to be there with me,' she concluded.

Ashot smiled, rather grimly. 'Any in particular?'

Antonina's returning smile was just as grim. 'Yes. The four biggest, meanest, toughest ones you've got.'

Ashot nodded. Before Antonina had taken three paces toward her cabin, the Armenian officer was already bellowing his commands.

'Synesius! Matthew! Leo! Zenophilus! Front and center!'

The first thing the visiting officers did, after Hermogenes ushered them in, was to study the four cataphracts standing in each corner of Antonina's large cabin. A careful study, lasting for at least half a minute.

Antonina fought down a grin. The visiting officers reminded her of nothing so much as four sinners in the antechamber of Hell, examining the denizens of the Pit.