An Oblique Approach by David Drake and Eric Flint

The soldiers grunted agreement.

Garmat turned back to Belisarius. “Our custom, you see, is that when the prince succeeds to the throne or reaches his maturity—which, among us, we reckon at twenty-two years of age—then his sarwe passes judgment on his dawazz. If the dawazz is judged to have done his job properly, he is offered membership in the sarwe. And, usually, a high rank. Or, if he prefers, he may return to his own people, laden with the sarwe’s blessing and, of course, many gifts from his former prince.”

“And if the sarwe judges against him?”

Garmat shrugged. From behind him, Ousanas muttered: “Very bad.” The soldiers grunted agreement.

Belisarius scratched his chin.

“Is the dawazz always from the south?”

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Garmat. “The dawazz may come from any foreign land, so long as his people are adjudged a valiant folk and he himself is esteemed for his courage. King Kaleb’s dawazz, for instance, was a bedouin Arab.”

“And what happened to him?”

Garmat coughed. “Well, actually, he’s standing in front of you. I was Kaleb’s dawazz.”

Belisarius and Antonina stared at him. Garmat shrugged apologetically.

“My mother, I’m afraid, was not noted for her chastity. She was particularly taken by handsome young Ethiopian traders. As you can see, I was the result of such a liaison.”

“How were you captured?” asked Belisarius.

Garmat frowned. He seemed puzzled.

“Captured by whom?”

“By the Axumites—when they enslaved you, and made you Kaleb’s dawazz.”

“You never capture dawazz!” exclaimed the prince. “If a man can be captured, he is not fit to be dawazz!”

It was the first time the prince had spoken. Eon’s voice was quite pleasant, although unusually deep for one so young.

Belisarius shook his head bemusedly. “I don’t understand this at all. How do you make someone a dawazz, then?”

“Make someone?” asked the prince. He looked at his adviser in confusion. Garmat smiled. The soldiers chuckled. Ousanas laughed aloud.

“You don’t make someone a dawazz, General,” explained Garmat. “It is a very high honor. Men come from everywhere to compete for the post. When I heard that a new dawazz was to be appointed by the Ethiopians, I rode across half of Arabia. And I traded my fine camel for a dhow to cross the Red Sea.”

“I walked through jungles and mountains,” commented Ousanas. “I traded nothing. Had nothing to trade except my spear. Which I needed.”

He bared a very muscular forearm, showing an ugly scar which marked the black flesh.

“Got that from a panther in Shawa.” The grin returned. “But was well worth it. Scar got me into final round of testing. Not have to bother with silly early rounds.”

Prince Eon spoke, his voice filled with pride. “Ousanas is the greatest hunter in the world,” he announced.

Immediately, Ousanas slapped him atop the head.

“Fool boy! Greatest hunter in world is lioness somewhere in savanna. Hope you never meet her! You contemplate error from inside her belly.”

“And you, Garmat?” asked Antonina. “Were you also a great hunter?”

Garmat waved his hands deprecatingly. “By no means, by no means. I was—how shall I put it? Let us say that the Axumites were delighted to select me. At one stroke, they gained a dawazz and eliminated the most annoying bandit chieftain in the Hadrawmat.” He shrugged again. “I had gotten rather tired of the endless round of forays and retreats. The thought of a stable position was appealing. And—”

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.”

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