But, in the end, sail it did. With the newest addition to the fleet proudly in the fore—John’s new warship.
John took immense pride in the craft. It was the first warship in the history of the world, he announced, which was designed exclusively for gunpowder tactics. Menander demurred, at first, on hearing that claim, pointing out that the Malwa had already developed rocket ships. But John had convinced the young cataphract otherwise. The Malwa rocket ships, he pointed out, were a bastard breed. Clumsy merchant ships, at bottom, with a few portable rocket troughs added on. Jury-rigged artillery platforms, nothing more.
Menander, after seeing the ship for himself, had quickly changed his mind. Indeed, this was something new in the world.
John’s pride and joy was not completely new, of course. In the press of time, the Rhodian had not been able to build a ship from scratch. So he had started with the existing hull of an epaktrokeles—a larger version of the Roman Empire’s courier vessels. He had then added gunwales and strengthened the ship’s deck with bulwarks, so that the recoil of the cannons would not cave in the planking.
In the end, he had a swift sailing craft armed with ten cast-bronze guns, arranged five on a side. The cannons were short-barreled, with five-inch bores which had been scraped and polished to near-uniform size. For solid shot, which they could fire with reasonable accuracy up to three hundred yards, John had selected marble cannon balls. The balls had been smoothed and polished to fit the bores properly. For cannister, the cannons were provided with lead drop-shot.
“What did you decide to call her?” asked Menander.
“The Theodora.”
“Good choice,” said Menander, nodding his head vigorously.
John grinned. “I am mulish, stubborn, contrary, pig-headed and irascible, Menander. I am not stupid.”
Had her fleet consisted purely of warships, Antonina could have made the voyage to Alexandria in less than a week; with favorable winds, three or four days.
The winds, in fact, were favorable. Antonina learned, from John and Ashot, that the winds in the eastern Mediterranean were almost always favorable for southward travel during the summer months. Eight days out of ten, they could count on a steady breeze from the northwest.
The slow grain ships, of course, set the pace for the armada. But even those ships, with favorable winds, could have made the passage in a week.
Yet, she estimated the voyage would take at least a month, probably two. The reason was not nautical, but political and military.
The immediate goal of her expedition was to stabilize the Empire’s hold over Egypt and Alexandria. But Irene and Cassian had counseled—and Theodora had agreed—that Antonina should kill two birds with one stone. Or, to use a more apt metaphor, should intimidate the cubs on her way to bearding the lion.
The religious turmoil had not spread—yet—to the Levant. But the same forces which were undermining the Empire in Egypt were equally at work in Syria and Palestine, and, in the person of Patriarch Ephraim, had an authoritative figure around which to coalesce.
So Theodora had instructed her, as she sailed along the eastern shore of the Mediterranean, to “show the standard.”
Antonina had been quite taken by that expression. When she mentioned it to Belisarius, her husband had smiled crookedly and said:
“Catchy, isn’t it? She got it from me, you know. From Aide, I should say—although the proper expression is ‘show the flag.’ ”
Antonina frowned, puzzled.
“What’s a ‘flag’?”
After Belisarius explained, Antonina shook her head.
“Some of what they do in the future is just plain stupid. Why would anyone in their right mind replace a perfectly good imperial gold standard with a raggedy piece of cloth?”
“Oh, I don’t know. As a soldier, I have to say I approve. A flag’s light. You try hauling around a great heavy gold standard in a battle someday. In Syria, in the summertime.”
Antonina brushed the problem aside, with great dignity.
“Nonsense. I’m not a lowly foot soldier. I’m an admiral. My ships will damn well ‘show the standard.’ ”
And show it they did.
At Seleuceia, first. They stayed in that great port for a full week. Two of those days were required to embark the hundreds of new Knights Hospitaler who came aboard. But most of the time was spent bearding Patriarch Ephraim in his den.