He hesitated, sizing up the two Romans before him. “And,” he continued, “I always rather liked my father’s people. Whoever my father was, I was always sure he was Ethiopian.”
For a moment, the adviser’s face grew hard. “I was raised Arab, and have never forgotten that half of my heritage. A great people, the Arabs, in many ways. But-they were very hard on my mother. Mocked her, and abused her, for no reason than that she found men attractive.”
He looked away, scanning the milling crowd in the reception hall.
“She was a good mother. Very good. Once I became powerful, of course, the abuse stopped. But she was never truly respected. Not properly. So-I took her with me to Axum, where customs are different.”
“How are they different?” asked Antonina.
Again, the appraising stare. Longer, this time. Belisarius knew that an important decision was being made.
“Let us simply say, Antonina, that among the Axumites there would be no whispering about powerful women with questionable pasts. As there is even here, among sophisticated Greeks.”
Antonina grew still. Garmat’s smile grew twisted. “Nor would there be any basis for such whispering, among the Ethiopians. Prostitution is unknown among them-except in the port of Adulis, where it is only practiced upon foreign seamen. Who are mocked, thereafter, for paying good money for what they could have had for nothing. Nothing, that is, except charm and wit and good conversation.”
Ousanas spoke, grimacing fiercely. “A promiscuous folk, the Axumites. Is well known! I was shocked, when first heard the news, in my far distant little village in south. My own folk very moral people, of course.” His face grew lugubrious. “Oh, yes! Was shocked at such news! Immediately went to see for myself, that I might lay to rest wicked rumors.” The huge grin returned. “Alas, rumors proved true. I would have fled immediately, of course, but by the time I learned-”
“The day you arrived,” grunted one of the soldiers.
“- was too late. Had already been tested for the dawazz. What could I do?”
Antonina and Belisarius laughed. Garmat spread his hands.
“You see? Even our priests, I’m afraid, are lax by your standards. But we are happy with our customs. Even the negusa nagast does not fret himself overmuch concerning the paternity of his sons. What does their blood matter, anyway? Only the approval of the sarawit matters, in the end.”
The soldiers grunted agreement.
The adviser gazed at Belisarius, a shrewd glint in his eyes.
“You must really come to see Axum for yourself,” he said.
“Not without me to keep an eye on him!” exclaimed Antonina, giggling. Then, remembering their purpose, she gasped slightly and fell silent.
Garmat immediately detected the false note. Before he could speak, Belisarius cleared his throat.
“As a matter of fact, Garmat, that is-”
He was interrupted by a great fanfare. The Emperor’s heralds were blaring out on their cornicens.
Belisarius started. Cornicens were the instruments used by Roman generals to transmit orders on the battlefield. He was not accustomed to their peaceful use.
Justinian and Theodora’s thrones were being elevated to their extreme height. Silence began to fall over the throng. It was clear that an important announcement was at hand.
“I’m afraid I must apologize to you,” Belisarius whispered hastily to Garmat. “I became so engrossed in our conversation that I forgot the time. This announcement, well-”
Garmat laid a hand on his arm.
“Let us hear the announcement, General. Then we can discuss whatever needs to be discussed.”
When the announcement was finished, Belisarius noted three things.
First, he noted a marked change in the manner of the crowd toward both himself and the Axumites. Where before they had been ignored, they were now, it was obvious, on the verge of being mobbed by sudden well-wishers.
Second, he noted the very sour expression on the face of Venandakatra, obvious even at a distance. And the hurried whispering among the Malwa entourage.
Third, he noted the trifold reaction of the Axumites. Garmat, even with the long experience of a royal adviser, was finding it impossible not to look pleased. Eon, with the short experience of a young and vigorous prince, found it even more impossible not to express displeasure. And the dawazz, as always, did his job, under the watchful eyes of the sarwen.
“We were not even informed!” snapped the Prince.
Immediately, Ousanas slapped him atop the head.
“Imbecile suckling! When lion invite you to share lunch, accept. Or would you rather be lunch yourself? Babbling babe!”
The sarwen grunted approval.
Chapter 13
Amavarati
Winter, 528 AD
Her youngest brother died well. Foolishly, but well.
Shakuntala did not hold the foolishness against the boy. He had been fourteen years old and was bound to die anyway. Better he should be cut down quickly by a Ye-tai beast than have his last moments be filled with humiliation as well as pain.
Her brother’s hopeless charge against the Ye-tai made possible his revenge, too. The Ye-tai-an experienced warrior-had no difficulty side-stepping the boy’s clumsy sword swing. The barbarian grinned savagely as his own sword hewed into her brother’s neck, almost severing it completely. A moment later, the grin disappeared. Shakuntala’s spear-point took the Ye-tai under the armpit and penetrated right into his heart.
The warrior began to slump, but his body was hurled aside by three other Ye-tai pouring into the princess’ chamber. The Ye-tai in the lead stumbled slightly over his dead comrade’s leg. It wasn’t much of a stumble, but it was just enough to allow Shakuntala’s spear to slide over the rim of his shield. The spear-point sank into his throat. The barbarian coughed blood and fell to his knees.
The princess immediately jerked the spear-blade back and plunged it toward another Ye-tai. This one brought his shield up to block the thrust. But the princess had been well-taught. The thrust was a feint. The spear-tip sank into his leg just above the knee. The Ye-tai howled. Shakuntala jerked the blade out and drove it into the warrior’s open mouth.
It was a quick, flickering, viper-like thrust-just as she had been taught. But-just as she had been warned not to do-the princess had driven the blade in much too furiously. The spear-tip jammed between two vertebrae.
A moment later, another Ye-tai struck at the spear shaft with his sword. His sword did not-quite-succeed in cutting the spear shaft. But the blow was more than sufficient to knock the spear out of Shakuntala’s hands.
The Ye-tai shouted triumphantly and advanced upon her, grinning widely. Shakuntala backed away toward a corner. The huge room, which had served as her reception chamber, was sparsely furnished. The princess kicked aside a large vase, giving herself still more maneuvering space. The beautiful porcelain shattered, spilling dried flowers onto the floor.
Six more Ye-tai poured in through the shattered door. Two of them came toward the princess. The other four veered away, heading toward Shakuntala’s maidservant. The girl-Jijabai-was huddled in another corner of the room.
Shakuntala heard Jijabai’s sobs turn into shrieks. She heard her maid’s clothing being torn and the gleeful howls of the Ye-tai who were wrestling the girl down to the floor. But she had no time to look over. The three Ye-tai who were now moving to surround her in the corner had sheathed their own swords and dropped their shields. The iron rims of the shields bounced softly on the rich carpet which covered the floor.