“Jump,” he said.
Irene’s eyes widened. She stared down at him, as if ogling a dangerous lunatic.
“Jump,” repeated Ousanas. “I will catch you.”
“You are completely insane!” she shrieked.
Ousanas glanced up at the flagship above. Antonina and Eon were both leaning over the rail. Antonina’s face was filled with deep concern. Eon’s, with a struggle to contain his laughter.
“Eon!” shouted Ousanas. “Cut the ladder!”
“Good idea!” boomed Eon. The Prince drew his blade from its baldric. It was a typical Axumite sword, other than being more finely made than most. Which is to say, it was short, square-tipped, and very heavy—more like a huge cleaver than a Roman spatha.
Irene’s terrified eyes stared up at the thing. The sword would obviously cut through the thin ropes of the ladder like an axe.
Eon, muscled like a Hercules, raised the blade high.
“Oooo!” she screamed. And then, convulsively, let go of the ladder.
She fell no more than four feet. Ousanas caught her easily, easily; then, neatly, set up her upright on the deck of the skiff. An instant later, she collapsed onto a pile of cordage coiled in the bilge.
“You are a foul creature,” she hissed, “from a foul land.” Gasp, gasp. “Now I know where Homer got the inspiration for the Cyclops.”
Ousanas clucked his tongue. “So cruel,” he complained. “So vicious!”
From above came Antonina’s voice.
“All you all right, Irene?”
The spymaster took a deep shuddering breath. Then, suddenly, burst into a smile.
“I’m quite fine, actually. The first mission is accomplished!”
She transferred the smile onto Ousanas.
“I apologize for my insulting and intemperate remark.”
Ousanas winced, awaiting the inevitable.
Hiss.
“I did not mean to slander the memory of an honorable monster of legend.”
Above, Antonina and Eon turned to face each other.
“You are certain, Antonina?” asked the Prince. “You have your own difficult task ahead of you. My sarwen would be of help. I have the authority to use them any way I wish. As I told you, my father’s offer is for a full alliance.”
Antonina shook her head.
“No, Eon. The negusa nagast’s offer we accept, certainly. Theodora gave me the authority to seek out that alliance myself, in fact. But if I can’t establish my authority in Egypt with the Roman troops at my disposal, another four hundred Axumite soldiers won’t make the difference.”
She cast a quick glance toward the Ethiopian warship. The craft was rolling gently in the waves just a hundred yards away. The rail was lined with soldiers of the Dakuen sarwe. There were, she estimated, about fifty of them. The rest of Eon’s troops were waiting for him at the small port of Pelusium, at the far eastern end of the Nile Delta.
“Besides,” she added, “the presence of Axumite sarwen would create political problems. I want to quell the ultra-Chalcedonian fanatics in Egypt without alienating the majority of orthodox Greeks. You know they’ll look on Ethiopians as allies of the Monophysites. Foreign heretics, used by the empire against them.”
Thoughtfully, Eon nodded. Antonina laid a friendly hand on his arm.
“So, I must decline your offer. Though I do thank you for it. Please pass those thanks on to your father.”
“I will.”
“Pass on to him also Rome’s agreement to the proposed alliance. When she gets to Axum, Irene can negotiate the details with the negusa nagast. She is fully authorized to do so, and you may tell your father that she carries Empress Theodora’s complete confidence. Providing an escort for her is the best use of your sarwen, at the moment.”
She broke into her own smile.
“And I’m happier this way. I hate sending Irene into that maelstrom in India. But at least I’ll have the comfort of knowing she has you, and Ousanas, and four hundred Dakuen to protect her.”
Her shoulders shuddered, just slightly. “For that matter, I’ll be happier knowing she doesn’t have to face Red Sea pirates without—”
“Pirates,” growled Eon. He barked a laugh.
Behind him stood three officers of the Dakuen sarwe. Leaders of the Prince’s own royal regiment, they considered themselves—quite rightly—as elite soldiers. And seamen, for that matter. They matched the Prince’s growl with their own glares, Eon’s barking laugh with their own sneers of derision.