Fortune's stroke

Chapter 39

In the event, Ousanas wound up saving the fool Roman general. When the troopship was almost alongside Antonina's craft, Belisarius-he was leaping about himself, hollering his own ecstasy-slipped and fell over the side.

Antonina shrieked. Ousanas, by main force, hurled her back into Matthew's arms.

"Keep her here!" he bellowed. An instant later, Ousanas split the water in a clean dive.

He found Belisarius in less than fifteen seconds, floundering about, gulping for breath as he tried to unlace his armor. Fortunately, the general was an excellent swimmer and-more fortunately still-was not wearing full cataphract gear. Had he been, Belisarius would already have been dragged under. But the half-armor was heavy enough, and awkward to remove.

"Hold still," snarled Ousanas. He tucked his arm under Belisarius and began towing him to Antonina's ship. Belisarius instantly relaxed, using only his feet to help keep him afloat.

"Nice to see you again, Ousanas," he said cheerfully.

Ousanas snorted. "Tell me something, Belisarius." He paused for a breath. His powerful strokes had already brought them almost to the ship. "How did you Roman imbeciles manage to conquer half the world?"

Pause for a breath. They were alongside, now. Eager hands were lifting Belisarius out of the water. "Personally, I wouldn't let you out of the house to fetch water from a well. You'd fall in, for sure."

He got no answer. The Roman imbecile was already in the arms of Venus.

About ten minutes later, Belisarius and Antonina finally pried themselves apart. Belisarius winced.

"You have got to get rid of that cuirass," he muttered, rubbing his rib cage. He eyed the device respectfully. "It's even deadlier than it is obscene."

Antonina grinned up at him. "So take it off, then. You can do it. I know you can." The grin widened. "Seen you strip me naked, I have, faster than-"

"Hush, wife!" commanded Belisarius. He frowned with solemn, sober disapproval. The expression, alas, fell wide of its mark. Antonina's grin grew positively salacious.

"Oh sure, soldier, tell me the thought never crossed your mind. That's just a cudgel, stuck in your trousers, in case you're ambushed by footpads."

Belisarius burst out laughing. Antonina's eyes quickly studied the immediate area.

"Bit primitive," she mused, "but we could probably manage on one of the rowing benches, as long as you refrain from your usual acrobatics." She cast a cold eye on the small crowd surrounding them. "Have to get rid of the spectators, though. Tell you what. You're the general. You order 'em overboard and I'll shoot the laggards."

Her last remarks had not been made sotto voce. Rather the opposite. The small crowd grinned at her. Antonina tried to maintain the murderous gleam in her eye but, truth to tell, failed miserably. The giggles didn't help.

"Guess not." The sigh which followed would have provided the world with a new standard for melancholy. If she hadn't kept giggling.

Belisarius swept her back into his arms. Into her ear he whispered: "As it happens, love, I've arranged accommodations on the troopship. The captain's cabin, in point of fact. Reserved for our exclusive use."

"Let's get to it, then!" she hissed eagerly. "God, am I glad I married a general. Love a man who can plan ahead."

He sighed himself, now. There was genuine melancholy in the sound.

"Not quite yet," he murmured. "Tonight, love, tonight. But there's still work to be done."

Startled, she drew back her head and stared up at him. "It is done!" she protested.

Antonina swiveled her head, scanning the ships which seemed to fill the delta. "Isn't it? Didn't you get everyone off the docks?"

Belisarius smiled. "Oh, that's done. To perfection. Best planned and executed operation I've ever seen, if I say so myself." For a moment, he seemed a bit embarrassed. "I'll have to remember to compliment Maurice," he mumbled.

He drove past that awkward subject. "But there's something left, yet. Something else." His smile changed, became quite cold and ruthless. "Call it dessert, if you will."

Antonina was still staring at him in confusion. Belisarius turned his head. When he spotted Ousanas, he motioned him over with a little nod.

"Are you in charge?" he asked.

Ousanas grinned, as hugely as ever. "Is not King Eon a genius? Didn't I always say, when I was his dawazz, that the boy would go far? Make wise decisions-especially with regard to posts and positions?"

Belisarius chuckled. "Did you notice anything odd, in those last moments before our escape?"

Ousanas spoke without hesitation. "The signal rockets. Those galleys didn't flee. They were summoned to the shore. I did not understand that. I had expected them to launch a final desperate attack."

Belisarius' smile was no longer cold. It was purely feral. "Yes. That is interesting."

He said nothing further. But it only took Ousanas four seconds to understand. The aqabe tsentsen swiveled his head, staring at the far-distant piers where the five Malwa galleys were now moored.

"It is well known," he murmured, "that wounded animals make easy prey." He turned back to Belisarius. Predator grin met carnivore smile. "Ask any hunter, Roman. The best way to hunt is from a blind."

"Interesting you should mention that," purred Belisarius. "I was just thinking the same thing myself."