The tide of victory

Chapter 21

Charax

Summer, 533 A.D.

"We thought we'd find you here," said Eon.

"Where else?" snorted Ousanas.

Startled, Antonina tore her eyes away from the mare she was staring at, and turned her head toward the stable entrance. Eon and Ousanas were standing just inside the open doors, backlit by the late morning sunshine.

Antonina began to flush. Then, dropping her eyes, she began brushing pieces of hay off her gown. When she'd entered the stable earlier that morning, after Belisarius left to rejoin his army, she'd been paying little attention to fastidiousness. Even now, the effort stemmed more from habit than any real care for her appearance.

"Am I so predictable?" she murmured.

Ousanas grinned. "Every time Belisarius goes haring off on one of his expeditions, you spend half the next day staring at a horse. Practically a thing of legend, by now."

Eon strode over to a nearby pile of hay and plumped himself down upon it. Clearly enough, the negusa nagast of Ethiopia was no more concerned with appearances than Antonina herself. He even spent a few seconds luxuriating in the sensation, for all the world like a carefree boy instead of the ruler of one of the world's most powerful kingdoms.

"Been a long time," he said cheerfully. Then, waving a hand: "Come, Ousanas! Why are you standing on dignity?"

Ousanas' grin became a bit sardonic. "Horse food! No thank you." He glared at the mare in the nearby stall. The inoffensive animal met his gaze placidly.

"Treacherous creatures," proclaimed Ousanas. "As are they all. 'Dumb beasts'-ha! I'm a hunter. Was, at least. So I know what wickedness lurks in the hearts of wild animals."

He stalked over to another nearby stall-an empty one-and leaned his shoulder against a wooden upright. "And they are all wild, don't think otherwise for a moment." He bestowed the same sardonic grin on the pile of hay Antonina was sitting on. "I'd rather feed on the horse than use its own feed for a chair. More civilized."

Antonina did not raise to the bait. She simply grinned back. For all that Ousanas often claimed to fear and loathe animals, she knew full well the man was an expert horseman as well as elephant mahout. And a superb camel driver as well, she suspected, although she had never seem him get close to one of the surly brutes.

Eon snorted his own skepticism. Then, his young face became serious. "We need to talk, Antonina. I am sorry to bother you now-I know you'd rather spend the day, ah. "

"Pining over a departed husband whom you've known for years, as if you were a silly lovestruck girl," concluded Ousanas unkindly.

"I am a silly lovestruck girl," protested Antonina. Not with any heat, however. Indeed, the ridiculous phrase brought her some comfort. Odd, perhaps. But her harsh childhood in the streets of Alexandria, followed by a long period in which she had been a courtesan-a time which had been, in some ways, even harsher-made her treasure the new life she had begun after Belisarius married her. She was catching up on things she had missed, the way she looked at it.

But-

She was married to Belisarius, after all. Belisarius, not some obscure small merchant or petty official. And, for all that she treasured the marriage, it did bring great responsibilities in its train.

She started to sigh, but suppressed it. "You want to plan the coming naval campaign. Immediately."

Eon nodded. "The change in Belisarius' tactics and timing makes it even more essential that our own expedition set forth as soon as possible. And since that expedition will now require"-the emphasis on that last word was perhaps a bit harsh, as if Eon expected an argument-"the involvement of the Roman fleet, we have no time to lose. Coordination between allies can be sometimes difficult. We need to, ah, establish clearly, ah-"

Eon trailed off into stumbling silence. Ousanas curled his lip, in a sneer which was as magnificent as his grin. "What the fool boy is fumbling at-supposed to be the King of Kings! — is who is going to command the thing. He or some Roman."

Antonina couldn't help bursting into laughter. "You're no longer his dawazz, you know!" she exclaimed. "And he's no longer a mere prince! Can't slap him on the head any longer!"

It was Eon's turn to grin, now. Ousanas scowled.

"Can't help it," he grumbled. "Being dawazz was easier than this silly fly whisk business. Polite! Respectful! Not my strength."

Antonina waved her hand. "It's not a problem. You will be in command, naturally. The only Roman ships which can be detached for the expedition are the half dozen new gunships which John designed. 'Carvels,' as he called them. Belisarius took the older ships with him for the assault on Barbaricum. You brought one hundred and eight war galleys. Each of them carries over two hundred men-approximately twenty thousand, all told, a far larger force than we Romans will provide. And since you refitted them all with cannons, you are even bringing a greater weight of guns to the expedition."

She broke off, distracted by a side thought. "I'm still amazed you managed to assemble such a fleet so quickly. How did you do it?"

Eon looked smug. "You can thank my wife Rukaiya for that. If there's anyone left in Ethiopia or Arabia who thinks a seventeen-year-old queen is still almost a child-that one, for sure-you could count them on your fingers."

"The fingers of one hand," amended Ousanas. "Huh," he grunted. "A will of iron, that girl has. As any number of quarrelsome shipbuilders discovered, not to mention supply merchants."

"And she's smart, too," continued Eon, not done with boasting about his wife. "It was Rukaiya's idea to refit our existing galleys for cannons, rather than trying to build gunships like you Romans have. 'Carvels,' you're calling them now?"

His expression grew somewhat apologetic. "We can build ships quickly, following the modifications which Rukaiya suggested, as long as we stick to our old methods. It would have taken us much longer to match John's design. We just don't have the same manufacturing base, especially not with metalworking."

"Couldn't have fitted carvels with the right guns, anyway," said Ousanas. "Even your Roman armorers in Alexandria can barely produce enough of those for your own ships. But Rukaiya's design only needs small guns-four-pounders-and only four to a ship, which Alexandria could make readily enough."

Antonina nodded. And, silently, congratulated herself for having chosen Rukaiya as Eon's queen in the first place.

But the self-satisfaction was not long-lasting. She could see, from the somewhat stiff expression on the Axumites' faces, that they were still concerned over the issue of command.

"What's the problem now?" she asked bluntly, seeing no reason to be diplomatic with these two men.

Ousanas shook his head. "Antonina, I believe your assessment is based more on abstractions than concrete reality. What Irene would call 'book learning.' " He began to speak further, but Eon interrupted.

"Our ships are still basically galleys, Antonina." A bit of pride rallied: "Axumite galleys, of course! Which are quite capable of sailing across open sea. But. "

He shrugged. "But can't carry much in the way of supplies. Not with a full complement of soldiers and sailors. No more than a few days' worth. And not even Ethiopians, in a few days, can make that great voyage across the Erythrean Sea which the expedition requires for success."

"We'd run out of food and water," elaborated Ousanas. "Not to mention gunpowder and shot, after a single major engagement."

Understanding dawned on Antonina. And, with it, the source of the Axumites' concern. The Ethiopians could provide the striking force-most of it, at least-but only if the Romans provided the supply ships.

She couldn't help herself. Much as she tried to stifle the impulse, she broke into a fit of giggling.

"What's so funny?" demanded Eon, half-crossly and half-uncertainly. The king mixed with the boy.

Antonina forced down the giggles, with a hand over her mouth. Then: "Sorry. I was just thinking of a gaggle of Roman merchant ships, taking orders from Ethiopians. Like trying to herd cats."

Ousanas spread his hands. "The problem, exactly. That breed is insubordinate under the best of circumstances. There is not a chance we could maintain control over them, without threatening physical violence every leg of the voyage. Every day, most like. Which would eventually defeat its own purpose."

Antonina frowned. Another damn problem in logistics! But then, seeing the expectant faces of Ousanas and Eon, she realized their own solution to the quandary. One which they were apparently afraid to broach, because they feared her reaction. And probably knew, as well, that before he left Belisarius had extracted from his wife a promise to stay out of combat.

That knowledge produced, not a fit of giggling, but a gale of laughter.

"You have no idea!" she exclaimed. "I would love to sail across an ocean instead of staying here in this miserable city managing a pack of surly merchants and traders. And even my fussing husband agreed that I could not refrain from doing anything which was-I quote-'necessary for the success of the campaign.' "

Grinning: "Done!"

Ousanas grinned back. "Yes. With you on the expedition, I dare say no merchant will argue the fine points of command."

Antonina sniffed. "I dare say not."

Less than an hour later, Antonina gave the first order which set the new plan in motion. To Dryopus, her efficient and trustworthy secretary.

"You're promoted. I'll send a message to Photius and Theodora telling them to give you a fancy new title. Something grand. Maybe a seat in the Senate. Certainly an estate somewhere to maintain you in the style you'll need."

She swept out of the chamber where she had formerly made her headquarters, leaving a befuddled former secretary in her wake.

Dealing with the twenty merchant captains who would provide the expedition with its supply ships took more time.

Not much.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," Antonina said firmly, after listening to their protests for perhaps an hour while standing on the docks. She pointed her finger to the Roman carvels anchored in Charax's harbor. The red light of the setting sun gave the vessels a rather sinister appearance.

"Those warships will sink any one of you who so much as gives me a peep of protest once we set sail. Which we will do the day after tomorrow."

She allowed them some time to ponder her words.

Not much.

"And you will be ready to set sail the day after tomorrow." Again, the finger of doom. "Or those warships will sink whichever one of your ships hasn't cast off within an hour of the remainder of the fleet. The city's poor folk have been complaining about a lack of driftwood, anyway, so it won't be a total loss."

* * *

Dealing with Menander and Eusebius, on the other hand, took most of the evening. Their protests could not be brushed aside.

The ones which didn't involve them personally, at least. The young officers' insistence on accompanying Antonina on the expedition, she gave short shrift.

"Don't be stupid. I'll have twenty thousand men-most of them Axumite marines-to keep me out of harm's way. I'm not leading this expedition, you understand-certainly not in combat! I'm simply going along to make sure that the Roman supply effort which is critical for success doesn't slack off."

Menander and Eusebius stared at her stubbornly. Antonina clapped her hands. "Enough! Belisarius will need you far more than me. Since I'm taking all the carvels and their experienced captains, he'll be relying on the two of you to fend off Malwa attacks on his supply route up the Indus. You do remember that he's a leading a much larger expedition, no?"

At the mention of Belisarius and his needs, Menander flushed. Eusebius, darker complected, did not. But he did look aside. No longer meeting her hard gaze, he managed a last little protest.

"You'll need the Victrix, Antonina. To make sure the Malwa shipping at Chowpatty and Bharakuccha is completely destroyed. And I'm really the only one who can still handle the fire cannon. Well enough under combat conditions, anyway."

Antonina hesitated. They were now moving into an area which was beyond her expertise.

Fortunately, Ezana made good the lack. The Dakuen commander had come with Eon and Ousanas to Antonina's villa, where the final arrangements for the division of Roman naval forces were being made. Before Eusebius had even stopped talking, Ezana was already shaking his head.

"Not true, Eusebius. In fact, having the Victrix along would be more of a problem than a help. You've been training with that odd weapon, we haven't. Trying to mix it in with Ethiopian forces and tactics-especially at the last minute-would cause nothing but grief. Like as not, by accident, you'd wind up burning more Axumite ships than Malwa."

Hurriedly, seeing the young Greek's gathering protest: "Not because of your error, but because some eager Ethiopian captain would sail right into the spout. Trust me. It'll happen."

Eusebius took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Watching, Antonina was certain that the young officer was remembering similar veteran wisdom expounded in times past by John of Rhodes. And, again, felt grief at his loss. A small grief, now, softened by time. But grief nonetheless.

"All right," said Eusebius. "But if you don't want the Victrix along on your expedition, Antonina, I'm not quite sure what role you do see for the ship." Shrugging: "The fire cannon itself would be ideal for destroying Malwa ships in the confines of the Indus. But the Victrix is a sailing ship, not a galley. Once the monsoon ends, it'll be well-nigh impossible to move her up the Indus-not against that current-unless we hauled her with oxen. And what kind of a warship can go into battle being drawn by livestock?"

Again, Antonina felt herself floundering out of her depth. But she could tell from the expressions on the faces of the experienced naval men around her that they all understood and agreed with Eusebius' point.

"Difficult-at best-to convert a sailing ship to a galley," muttered Ezana. "Have to rebuilt her almost completely."

"We could just transfer the fire cannon to an existing galley," offered Eon. But the look on his face didn't evidence any great enthusiasm. "True, you'd lose the advantage of height. Be a bit dangerous, that, in close quarters. Which"-his enthusiasm was fading fast-"is of course how the weapon can be used best."

Ousanas started to say something, but Menander interrupted.

"Go the other way," he said forcefully. He jerked a thumb toward the southern wall of the room, pointing to an invisible harbor. "You all know the new steam-powered warship the old emperor designed arrived here three days ago. What you may not know is that the Justinian brought an extra steam engine with her, in case of major mechanical problems. But I can't really use the thing anyway. Can't possibly fit it in the Justinian as a spare engine. We could use it to refit the Victrix as a paddle wheeler." He paused, looking at Eusebius. "I think."

As ever, having a technical problem posed immediately engrossed Eusebius. The naval officer was still an artisan at heart. He ran fingers through his hair, staring at the tile floor through thick spectacles.

"Could be done. Easier to make her a stern-wheeler, but a side-wheeler would have a lot of advantages in a river like the Indus. Slow and muddy as it is, bound to be hidden sandbars all over the place. With a side-wheeler you can sometimes walk your way over them. That's what Aide says, anyway."

"Can't armor a side-wheeler," countered Menander immediately. Although he was not exactly an artisan himself, the young cataphract had quickly picked up the new technological methods which Aide had introduced. He was comfortable in that mechanical world in a way in which older cataphracts were not.

Eusebius lifted his head, his eyes opening wide. "Why are we messing with paddle wheels, anyway? The Justinian and her sister ship were designed for screws. It wouldn't be that much harder to redesign the Victrix for screw propulsion."

Menander got a stubborn, mulish look on his face. Seeing it, Eusebius sighed. "Forgot. You've only got one spare screw, don't you? And as many problems as the Justinian has already-typical prototype stuff-you don't want to find yourself stranded somewhere on the Indus without an extra propeller."

By now, Antonina and the Ethiopians were completely lost. Seeing the blank expressions on their faces, Eusebius explained.

"You can't just slap together a propeller. Tricky damn things. In the letter he sent with the Justinian, the emperor-I mean, the Grand Justiciar-told us he had to fiddle for months-his artisans, I mean-until they got it right. No way we could make one here, without the facilities he's got at Adulis."

Their faces were still blank. Menander sighed.

"You do know what a propeller is?"

Blank.

Menander and Eusebius looked at each other. Then, sighed as one man.

"Never mind, Antonina," said Menander. "Eusebius and I will take care of it. You just go and have yourself a nice ocean cruise."