by David Drake
"No."
The priest opened his mouth.
"Absolutely not."
"You must go below!"
"Under no conditions will we do so."
At that moment Anastasius lumbered out of the tent, with Menander close behind. Both cataphracts were fully armed and armored, except for their lances. They were also bearing Belisarius and Valentinian's weapons and armor. Their arrival distracted the priest, who began gobbling further protests. His protests became positively shrill when he spotted the two sarwen charging out of their own tent, likewise laden with weapons. An abundance of weapons—each sarwen was carrying a cluster of javelins as well as swords, shields, and huge-bladed spears.
Within moments, all the Romans and Axumites were busily donning their armor and taking up their weapons. The priest was now practically gibbering.
"Anastasius," commanded the general. "Do something impressively unfriendly."
Anastasius immediately seized the priest by the scruff of the neck and his crotch and tossed him back toward the cluster of priests amidships. The priest managed to land on his feet, more or less, but he immediately stumbled out of control and hurtled into his cohorts, bowling two of them right over.
Venandakatra screeched with fury. A small crowd of Ye-tai warriors surged forward.
Without any orders from Belisarius, all three cataphracts immediately notched arrows and drew their bows. The two sarwen raised their javelins. Eon and Garmat hefted their stabbing spears. Belisarius drew his sword. Ousanas lounged against the rail.
"What are you playing at?" hissed Menander.
Ousanas gaped. "Me? Miserable slave! Not fit for noble type foolishness."
"Ousanas!" commanded Eon.
The dawazz sighed. "Most unreasonable prince." He lazed forward. "Play old game?" he asked.
Eon immediately gave Ousanas his great spear. The prince shed his baldric and sword and then began to walk, unarmed, toward the Malwa crowd. Behind him, Ousanas motioned the Ye-tai warriors to clear a lane. Puzzled, but hearing no countervailing orders from the priests, the Ye-tai did as the dawazz bade them.
Eon walked right through the silent Malwa crowd until he reached the cabin which was built around the base of the mainmast. As soon as he reached the cabin, the prince turned and backed up against it. He crossed his arms and spread his legs about a foot apart. He was standing about twenty yards from the Axumites and Romans in the bow.
Ousanas casually jabbed the stabbing spear into the deck of the ship. The huge blade sank a full inch into the hard wood and stood erect. Without a word, one of the sarwen handed him a javelin. The dawazz hefted the javelin lightly and then, with a motion whose speed and power stunned everyone watching, hurled the javelin across the length of the deck.
The weapon sank into the wall of the cabin almost the full length of the blade. The shaft of the weapon quivered like a tuning fork. About two inches from the prince's left ear.
A moment later, another javelin was sailing across the deck. This one plunged into the wood about two inches from Eon's right ear. Not seconds later, a third javelin thundered into the cabin wall right between the prince's legs. About two inches below his crotch.
"Mary, Mother of God," whispered Valentinian.
Anastasius drew a deep breath. "That's incredible spear work. Amazing!"
"Fuck the spear work," growled Valentinian. "The kid never even blinked! That's amazing. I may never fuck again, just from watching."
The prince suddenly laughed. He and his dawazz exchanged huge grins across the deck of the ship.
"Very foolish prince," mused Ousanas, shaking his head. "But got elephant heart. Been that way since boy."
Ousanas plucked the great stabbing spear out of the deck and sauntered toward Eon. The warriors and priests scuttled out of his way. The dawazz smiled upon them beatifically.
"Intelligent persons!" he exclaimed. "Very most sane and logical Indian people!" He bestowed a particularly engaging grin upon Venandakatra.
When Ousanas reached Eon, he and the prince assisted each other in withdrawing the javelins from the cabin walls. More than anything else, perhaps, it was the obvious effort being exerted by these two very strong men which drove home just how ferocious those javelin casts had been.
Belisarius sheathed his sword and strode over to Venandakatra.
"We are soldiers," he told the Indian lord sternly, "not children. We will not be penned in the hold during an attack."
He matched Venandakatra's glare with one of his own. After a moment, the Vile One looked away.
"Besides," added Belisarius, turning away and pointing to the approaching fleet of pirate vessels, "you may find you are glad to have us, soon enough."
Venandakatra scowled, but said nothing. Belisarius returned to the bow of the ship and began giving directions to the Roman and Axumite warriors. After a few moments, it became clear that the Indians had decided to leave the defense of the bow in the hands of their unwanted guests.
Belisarius had never encountered Axumite warriors in battle, neither as friend nor foe. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to use their skills.
What he could glean of the Ethiopian way of fighting was odd. They seemed singularly unconcerned about bodily protection, for one thing. The Axumites, when not constrained by Greek custom, never wore anything except a short-sleeved tunic, kilt, and sandals. Now, preparing for battle, they removed their tunics and stood bare from the waist up. Each of them, except Ousanas, took up a buffalo-hide shield. The shields were round and small—no wider than a forearm. Those little shields, apparently, constituted the entirety of their armor.
Each Ethiopian carried a sword slung behind his back from a leather baldric which crossed the right shoulder diagonally. The haft of the sword stuck up right behind the shoulder blade, where it could be easily grasped. The swords were purely cutting implements. They were short, very wide and heavy, and ended in a square tip. They resembled a butcher's cleaver more than anything else.
The swords, however, were obviously secondary weapons. For their main armament, each Ethiopian carried javelins and those enormous spears. The Axumite stabbing spear was about seven feet long. The blade was almost a foot and a half long, shaped like a narrow leaf, heavy and razor sharp. The spear shaft was also heavy—as thick and solid as a cavalry lance. The last foot or so of the haft was sheathed with iron bands, and the very end of the haft bore a solid iron knob about two inches in diameter. The weapon could obviously double as a long mace.
Garmat spoke quietly.
"I suggest you use us as a reserve, Belisarius. As you can see, we do not match your cataphracts for sheer weight of armor and weapons. It is not the Axumite method. But I think you will find us very useful when the enemy presses."
"What about him?" asked the general, nodding toward Ousanas. The dawazz carried neither a shield nor a sword. He seemed content merely with his javelins and his spear—a spear which, in his case, was a foot longer and much heavier than those borne by the other Ethiopians.
Garmat shrugged. "Ousanas is a law unto himself. But I think you will have no cause for complaint."
Belisarius smiled his crooked smile. "A miserable, ignorant slave, is he?"
As often before, Ousanas surprised him with his acute hearing.
"Most miserable!" cried the dawazz. "Especially now! With cruel pitiless Arabs approaching!" Ousanas cast a longing glance at the sea. "Would flee in abject shrieking terror except too ignorant to know how to swim."
"You swim like a fish!" snapped the Prince.
The dawazz goggled. "Do I? Imagine such a wonder!" He shook his head sadly. "Slavery terrible condition. Make me forget everything."
Belisarius turned away and resumed his examination of the Indians. He saw that the bamboo troughs had now been set up along the port rail of the deck, facing northward. The troughs were spaced about ten feet apart. The Malwa kshatriyas then placed great bundles of hide at the ship-end of the troughs. The grey hides were tightly rolled in
to barrel-shapes which were about half the size of actual barrels.
"That's elephant hide," commented Garmat quietly.
Now, the kshatriyas began dipping buckets into the sea and hauling them up with ropes. As soon as the buckets were drawn aboard, the seawater was poured over the hide rolls. Once the hide rolls were completely waterlogged, the kshatriyas began pouring the seawater over every exposed surface of the ship. After a hurried consultation with Venandakatra, two of the kshatriyas advanced to the bow. Making clear with gestures and facial expressions that their intentions were pacific, the kshatriyas began soaking the bow of the ship with seawater also. The Romans and Ethiopians, at Belisarius' command, stood aside and made no objection, even when the Malwa soaked the leather walls of their own tents.
After the kshatriya left the bow, Belisarius whispered to Garmat: "For some reason, they seemed terrified of fire. Is that because of the Arabs, do you think?"
Garmat shook his head. "Can't be. Arab navies are known to use fire arrows, on occasion, but these are not naval forces. They are pirates. What would be the point of burning this ship? They want to capture it."
Belisarius nodded his head. "So—it must be due to their own weapons."
At that moment, more kshatriyas began emerging from the hold. They were bearing knobby, odd-looking, short—poles?
"Are those bamboo?" asked Belisarius.
"Yes," replied Garmat. "Each of those poles is simply a length of bamboo with some kind of bundle at one end. I think the bundle is just a wider length of bamboo jammed over the end of the pole and bound to it with leather. See? That's the end they're placing in the troughs to face outward. The other end has a—a tail, let's call it. That's just a short length of bamboo split length-wise."
"What are these things called?"
Garmat shrugged.
* * *
aim seized the moment. In a paroxysm of determination, it drove the facets toward a single point. A pure focus, a narrow salient in the barrier, a simple thrust. Had aim understood the human way of siegecraft, it would have called itself a battering ram guided toward the hinge of the gate. Perhaps—yes! Yes! Yes!
"It's called a—a rocket," whispered Belisarius. "More," he commanded. "More!"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Garmat. The old adviser was gazing at the general as if Belisarius were demented. Belisarius grinned at him.
"I'm not mad, Garmat, believe me. Just—I can't explain, now. Something important is happening. I am—let's say, I am understanding things."
Again aim drove the facets. Again, it regained the focus. Again, the battering ram. Again—the breach!
"Yes," whispered Belisarius. "I see it, yes! It could be turned around. Made its opposite. Expel its interior rather than be expelled by it. Yes!"
He frowned, concentrating, concentrating. For a moment—for he was well acquainted with the human way of siegecraft—he even envisioned himself as a battering ram. And, with that vision, made his own breach in the wall.
"Then it would be called a—cannon."
He sagged, almost staggered. Garmat steadied him with a hand.
"Truly," muttered the adviser, "truly I hope you have not gone mad. This is a poor time for it." He shook the general's arm. "Belisarius! Snap out of it! The pirates are almost within bow range."
Belisarius straightened, looked seaward, then glanced down at the Axumite. He shook his head, smiling.
"You are exaggerating, Garmat. The Arabs will not be within bow range for two minutes. But—the pirates are within rocket range. Watch!"
At that moment, a strange hissing sound was heard, like a dragon's rage. Startled, Garmat looked back amidships and gaped. One of the—rockets—was hurtling itself toward the pirates. Behind it, a ball of flame billowed on the deck, surrounding the hide roll at the back of the trough from which the rocket had soared. The kshatriyas were obviously expecting the phenomenon, for, within a second or two, buckets of water were poured over the smoldering hide bundle. The ball of flame became a small cloud of steam.
Belisarius watched the flight of the rocket. He was struck, more than anything, by the serpentine nature of the bamboo device's trajectory. It did not fly with the true arc of an arrow or a cast spear. Instead, the rocket skittered and snaked about. He realized, after a moment, that there was some connection between the rocket's movements and the erratic red flare that jetted from its tail.
Crude, blunt thoughts suddenly emerged through the barrier. They entered his mind like dumb creatures lumbering into a cave.
poor mix. bad powder.
Mix? He wondered. Powder? What could powder—dust—have to do with—?
powder is force.
"How? And what kind of powder?" he wondered aloud. Again, Garmat glanced at him worriedly. Belisarius began to smile reassuringly, but the smile faded. He could feel the alien presence in his mind retreating; could sense its discouragement.
The rocket began to drift downward toward the sea. It was obvious, long before it struck, that the device had been badly aimed. It would land far from any pirate craft.
"Is it aimed at all?" he muttered. Next to him, Garmat shook his head. The Axumite seemed relieved that Belisarius' mumblings were now connected to reality.
"I do not think so, General. I think they are simply shot forth in the general direction of the enemy. You saw how it flew. How could such a capricious weapon be aimed?"
The rocket hit the sea. There was a sudden plume of water and steam, then—nothing. The multitude of Arabs aboard the pirate vessels gave out a great jeering cry.
The pirates were now close enough for examination.
There were a total of thirteen galleys approaching. Each was rowed on two banks, with a lateen sail and a huge crew. At a rough guess, Belisarius estimated that each ship carried over a hundred men. Most of the pirates were armed with swords or spears. A number had bows. Very few, however, wore much in the way of armor. Nor, for that matter, did many of the Arabs even carry shields.
As individuals, Belisarius decided, they were not particularly fearsome. The danger was in their great numbers.
Four more rockets were fired. Again, the skittering serpentine trajectories—and again, none of them came near their mark. The pirates were now jeering madly.
"They're gaining on us," groused Eon. "What a miserable ship this beast is! In these heavy seas, with this good wind, we should be leaving them behind easily."
Six rockets were fired. And now, finally, the strange weapons showed their true power. Two of them struck the same pirate vessel. The Arab ship seemed to burst into flame and fury. Several pirates were hurled into the air as if they had been struck by the hand of an invisible titan.
"Force!" exclaimed Belisarius. "Yes—that's what—" He fell silent.
"That's what?" demanded Garmat.
Belisarius glanced at him, pursed his lips in thought, then shook his head.
"Never mind, Garmat. I was just noticing that these weapons are not simply fire-weapons. They bear some other power with them as well. Some unknown—force—which acts like a blow as well as a flame."
Garmat looked back at the pirate vessel. Now that the cloud of smoke had cleared, it was obvious that the ship had been struck as well as burnt. Where one of the rockets had collided, an entire section of the ship's hull had been caved in. The vessel was already listing badly, and its crew was beginning to jump overboard. It was clear that the craft was doomed. The only uncertainty was whether it would sink before the flames could engulf it.
Again, suddenly, an alien thought moved into Belisarius' mind.
explosion. force is explosion.
Tantalizingly, Belisarius almost caught the image which the jewel was emitting. But it withdrew, faded—then surged back. Just for an instant, the general saw a barrel containing a blazing and furious fire. The fire produced a vast volume of gasses which pressed against the walls of the barrel until—
"Yes!" he cried. "Yes—I was right! It is fire!"
He suddenly
realized that a number of people were staring at him. Not just Romans and Axumites, either. Several of the Ye-tai warriors stationed nearby were frowning at him, as well as a Mahaveda priest.
Keep your mouth shut, idiot. Observe in silence.
Another volley of rockets. Six rockets, six misses—but the jeer from the pirates was notably more subdued. The Arab craft were now less than two hundred yards away. A few Arab archers loosed shafts, but their arrows fell short of the mark.
"Weaklings," sneered Anastasius. The giant Thracian drew his great bow. Belisarius almost winced, watching. The general had tried to draw that bow, once. Tried and failed miserably, for all that Belisarius was a strong man.
Powerful as he was, Anastasius was actually not a great archer. He had nothing like the skill with a bow possessed by Valentinian. But, aiming at those closely packed, mobbed vessels, it hardly mattered. His arrow sailed across the distance and plunged into the crowd aboard one ship. A shriek was heard.
"Most blessed arrow!" cried Ousanas. "Graced by God Himself!"
Anastasius grinned. Valentinian snorted.
"He's not praising you, stupid. He's saying you were lucky."
Anastasius frowned at Ousanas. The dawazz shook his head sadly.
"Valentinian tells false lie. Very wicked Roman man! Not said you were lucky. Said you stood most high in Deity's esteem."
"See?" demanded Valentinian.
Anastasius gestured angrily. "Let's see you do any better!" he demanded.
Ousanas grinned. "Too far. Arrows cheap as dirt. Javelins precious. Very important point in theology. God wanton with His blessings on arrows. Stingy with javelins."
The dawazz pointed to the easternmost craft.
"You see him steersman? That ship?"
Anastasius nodded.
Again, Ousanas shook his head sadly. "Him great sinner. Soon be taken by Shaitan."
"How soon?" demanded Anastasius.
"Soon as skill allow. Javelin weapon of skill. God very stingy with javelin. Miser, almost."
Anastasius snorted and turned away. Again, he drew his bow. Again, his arrow found a mark in the crowd.