Ousanas’ answer brought the last roar of laughter to the field—and a roar of fury with it.
“I shall stay here,” he announced. “My own folk are too practical. Here, I will have great opportunity to contemplate philosophy. Especially the dialectic, which teaches us that all things are a contradiction.”
He gave Eon a stony look. “As the fool boy king will prove soon enough.”
When the laughter faded, he said: “But the dialectic also teaches us that all things change. As the Malwa are about to discover—even quicker!”
Chapter 9
The following day, Eon began his duties as negusa nagast. By tradition, he would have spent the evening carousing with his soldiers and the townsfolk of Axum. But Eon had been in no mood for festivity. His personal losses were too recent, and too deeply felt. His soldiers understood, and did not begrudge their new King of Kings spending the night in the cathedral of Maryam Tsion, praying for the souls of his family.
But by the morning, Eon had assumed his post. Whatever grief he still felt—and no one doubted it was there—he kept it locked away. The struggle against Malwa took center stage.
As it must. Just as Eon had predicted, the Malwa had struck again.
* * *
“Abreha is leading the rebellion,” stated Wahsi. Sitting on his little stool, the Dakuen commander planted his hands on his knees. “And apparently the entire Metin sarwe has decided to accept their commander’s claim to being the new King of Kings.”
“The Falha sarwe has done the same,” chimed in Saizana. The commander of the Hadefan leaned forward on his own stool, adding: “But they will only support Abreha as the king of Yemen. According to our spy, at least, they will not support Abreha if he tries to cross the Red Sea and invade Ethiopia itself.”
Garmat, lying on an elevated pallet near Eon, raised his head. “What of the Halen?” he whispered. The old adviser was on his way to recovery, but he was still very weak. “And do we know what happened to Sumyafa Ashwa?”
“The Halen regiment,” replied Saizana, “is apparently torn by dissension. They are forted up in Marib, and—so far—seem to be adopting a neutral stance.” He shrugged. “As for Sumyafa Ashwa, his fate is unknown at the moment. But I think we must assume he was murdered. The viceroy was resident in Sana, after all, which is the hotbed of the rebellion.”
Garmat lowered his head. For a few seconds, his eyes closed. There was no visible expression on his face, but Antonina, seated next to him, thought that Garmat was allowing himself a moment of sorrow. She knew that Sumyafa Ashwa had been a close friend of Garmat’s for many years. It had been at Garmat’s recommendation, after Axum conquered southern Arabia, that King Kaleb had appointed the Christian Arab as viceroy of Yemen.
Others in the room apparently shared her assessment. No one spoke, allowing Garmat to grieve in peace.
Antonina used that moment to inspect the room, and its occupants. Eon had begun the session by asking her to present the Roman Empire’s proposals. Preoccupied with that task, and with the discussion which had immediately followed concerning the rebellion in Arabia, she had not had the opportunity to assess the new circle of royal advisers.
It was a small circle. Except for Garmat, none of the Ethiopian kingdom’s top advisers had survived the bombing. The royal council was being held in the only audience chamber of the Ta’akha Maryam which had escaped unscathed. The room was quite large. Even the heavy wooden columns which were scattered throughout, supporting the stone ceiling, could not disguise the fact that most of the chamber was empty.
Antonina’s eyes, scanning the room, fell on one of the windows which were situated along the eastern wall. The window was sturdily built, in the square stone-and-timber style favored by Axumites. There was no glass in that window. The cool highland breeze came into the chamber through the stone crosses which were the window’s structure and decoration. Antonina’s view of the Mai Qoho and the mountains looming beyond was filtered through the symbol of the Christian faith.