An Oblique Approach by David Drake and Eric Flint

“Wine, women, and song.”

“Fuck the songs.”

“And now—!”

Mutter, mutter, mutter.

“What was that?”

“I think he said ‘fuck adventurous leaders,’ ” replied Menander. The lad frowned. “But maybe not. I can’t always understand him when he mutters, even though he does it a lot. Maybe he said: ‘fuck avaricious feeders.’ ”

The frown deepened. “But that doesn’t make a lot of sense either, does it? Especially on a trip—” A sudden thought; a sudden worry; a quick glance at his mount.

“Do you old-timers know something about horses that I don’t?”

The conversation at the head of the little column, on the other hand, was not gloomy at all. Even Belisarius, once the estate fell out of sight, regained his usual good spirits. And then, not an hour later, great spirits.

There are many sweet pleasures in this world. Among those—unsung though it is—ranks the pleasure of being asked a question which you were trying to figure out how to ask yourself.

Garmat cleared his throat. “General Belisarius. Prince Eon and I have been discussing—for some time now, actually, but we only came to a decision last night—well, the negusa nagast will naturally have to make the final decision, but we are quite certain he will agree—well, the point is—”

“Oh, for the love of Christ!” exclaimed Eon. “General, we would like to accompany you and your men to India.” The prince closed his mouth with a snap, straightened his back, stared firmly ahead.

Belisarius smiled—and not crookedly. “I would be delighted!” He turned in his saddle—so easy, that motion, with stirrups!—and looked behind.

“All of you?” he asked. “Including the sarwen?” The general examined the two Ethiopian soldiers. Outlandish men, they were, from a little known and mysterious country. But he knew their breed perfectly.

“Oh, yes,” replied Garmat. “They are sworn to Prince Eon’s personal service.”

Belisarius now looked to Ousanas. The dawazz was striding alongside his prince.

“And you, Ousanas?”

“Of course! Must keep fool prince out of trouble.”

“You don’t consider this trouble?”

The dawazz grinned. “Voyage to distant India? Enter Malwa gaping maw with madman foreign general intent on stealing Malwa teeth? Sanest thing fool prince ever do.”

Belisarius laughed. “You call that sane?”

For once, the grin disappeared. “Yes, Belisarius. For prince of Axum, in new Malwa world, I call that sane. Anything else be folly.”

Chapter 15

THE ERYTHREAN SEA

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“It’s quite a ship,” remarked Belisarius, gazing from the bow down the length of the Indian embassy vessel. “It must be as big as the Alexandrian grain ships—even the Isis.”

“It’s a tub,” pronounced Eon. The young prince’s gaze followed that of Belisarius, but with none of the general’s admiration.

The ship was almost two hundred feet long, and about forty-five feet wide. It was as big as the largest sailing ships ever built by Romans, the great grain-carrying vessels which hauled Egypt’s wheat from Alexandria to Constantinople and the western Mediterranean. The famous Isis was one of those ships.

Like those grain ships, the Indian vessel had two lower decks as well as the main deck. And, also like the grain ships, the Indian craft was a pure sailing vessel. It had no rowing capability at all. With its enormous carrying capacity of two thousand tons, oars would have been almost futile.

There the resemblance ended. The grain ships were three-masted vessels. The Indian ship was single-masted, although the great square sails of the huge mainmast were assisted by a lateen sail in the stern. Another difference lay in the superstructure. Where the Mediterranean tradition was to build up a poop deck in the stern, the Malwa concentrated their superstructure amidships, surrounding the base of the great mainmast. The wood used throughout the Indian vessel was teak, and the rigging was coir. Mediterranean ships were built of fir or cedar, with some oak, and the cordage was typically hemp or flax (although the Egyptians often used papyrus, and the Spaniards favored esparto grass).

Beyond those obvious differences, Belisarius was lost. Prince Eon, it seemed, was not.

“A tub,” he repeated forcefully.

“Very big tub,” added Ousanas cheerfully. “Most obscene large tub.”

“So what?” demanded Eon. “Size isn’t everything.”

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