He paused. Maurice, eagerly, filled the void. “You know what that means?” he demanded. The chiliarch gripped the rail fiercely, glaring at the enemy ship. “What it means,” he hissed, “is that if we kill that old bitch, the Malwa will be thrown into complete confusion. The new Link—what’s her name? Sati?—won’t know what’s happened since Holi left. That’s been a year and a half, now! It’ll take her months—months—to get things reorganized.”
He turned from the rail, eager—eager. “God, General, that’s perfect! We need that time, ourselves. Sure, we won this battle. But our troops are exhausted, too. We need to refit, and hook back up with Agathius and the Persians, and send another mission to Majarashtra, and—”
He stumbled to a halt. Maurice, finally, saw the other side of the thing.
Antonina had understood at once. Her face was pale.
“You can’t board that ship! Link will commit suicide! It has no reason not to. It’s not human, it’s just a—a vessel. A tool.” She almost gasped. “It’ll want to! The last thing it can afford is to be captured.”
All of them, now, understood the implication. So why not take its enemy with it?
“It’ll have that ship rigged,” muttered Maurice. “Doing it right now, probably. Ready to blow it up once you’re aboard.”
Antonina ignored him. She was pale, pale. She knew that expression on Belisarius’ face. Knew it all the better because it was so rare.
“I don’t give a damn,” he snarled. “I’ve been fighting that monster for four years. I’m tired of tactics and strategy. I’m just going to kill it.”
Protest began to erupt, until a new voice spoke.
“Of course we will!” boomed Ousanas. “Nothing to it!”
All eyes fixed upon him. The aqabe tsentsen grinned. “Under other circumstances, of course, the deed would be insane. Foolish, suicidal!” He shrugged. “But you forget—you have me!” He began prancing around, lunging with his spear. “Terrible! A demon!”
Antonina was not amused, this time. She began to snarl a response, until she suddenly realized—
Ousanas was not prancing any longer. He was simply smiling, as serene as an icon.
“No, Antonina,” he said softly, “I am not joking with you now. It is a simple fact”—again, he shrugged—”that I am the best hunter I know.”
He pointed his finger at Link’s ship. Not more than half a mile away, now. “Think clearly and logically. The monster cannot possibly have enough gunpowder to blow up the entire ship. It would only have brought defensive weapons. Rockets, grenades. It will set them to destroy its own cabin, after the boarding party arrives. That will take time.”
He hefted his huge spear, as lightly as if were a mere twig. “Underneath, I think. Somewhere in the hold.”
He turned to Belisarius. “You are determined, I imagine, to lead the boarding party yourself.”
Belisarius’ only answer was a snarl. Ousanas nodded. “Do it, Roman. Take your best men. I will see to the rest.”
* * *
The argument still raged, but the issue was settled. Between them, Belisarius and Ousanas beat down all protest. Not even Anastasius—not even when ordered by Maurice—was prepared to stop the general. He remembered Valentinian, unyielding, on a mountainside in Persia. And knew that the champion’s own general, this day, would do no less.
By then, the Ethiopian warships were already engaging the Malwa escort galleys. The battle was not quite as swift as that in the delta. Not quite. The Malwa had seen the diekplous, and tried to avoid it. But, while their caution prolonged the outcome, it did not change it. It simply made it the more certain. In less than ten minutes, the five galleys had been boarded and their crews slaughtered. The Ethiopians lost only one of their craft to ramming. Even then, they were able to rescue the entire crew before the ship finally foundered.
Belisarius, however, observed none of it. He had been engaged, throughout, in a new argument. Which he lost, just as surely and inevitably as he had won the first.
* * *
“All right!” he growled, glaring at his wife. Then, heaving a great sigh: “But you stay behind, Antonina—d’you hear? I won’t have you in the front line!”