Hearing this news, several of the commanders grunted. The sounds were inarticulate, but full of import.
Antonina understood the meaning. The great Arab tribes centered in Mecca and the other towns of western Arabia—among which the Quraysh were dominant—were traders, not bedouin. It was they, not the nomads of the interior, who chafed most under Ethiopian rule. The bedouin of the interior did not really care who ruled fertile Yemen. Those nomads who had given their allegiance to Abreha would have done so for immediate bribes—and the hope of possible loot, if Abreha set out to conquer Ethiopia.
But the commercial interests of the tribes in Mecca often clashed with those of Axum. Axum’s control of the great trading route which passed through the Red Sea rested on its navy’s ability to suppress piracy. The Quraysh, on the other hand, depended on piracy. It was not that they themselves were pirates—although the accusation was often made—so much as the simple fact that no one used their more expensive camel caravans unless the sea route was infested by pirates.
For years now, since Axum under King Kaleb had conquered southern Arabia and clamped the iron grip of its navy on the Red Sea, the traders of Mecca had suffered greatly. By all logic, it should have been they—not bedouin nomads—who were flocking to Abreha’s banner. The fact that they weren’t—
“They’ve always been smart,” said Garmat, now sitting erect. For the first time since the session began, the old adviser’s face was animated and eager. He seemed like the Garmat of old, and Antonina was not the only one in the room who felt their spirits rise.
“Mecca is the key,” said Garmat emphatically. “Mecca and Yathrib, and the whole of the Hijaz. I have said this before, and I will say it now again: control of Yemen depends on our control of the western coast.”
Garmat stuck out his thumb. “We will always have the allegiance of the Arab townsmen of Yemen. Most of them, at least. Those people are farmers. They want stability and order, and no power in this region can provide it as well as Axum. True, they chafe a bit, because we are foreign. But not much, because Ethiopians are not very foreign, and—” He made a quick little flip of his hands, indicating himself. A small laugh rose in the chamber. Garmat was the product of a liaison between an Arab woman and an Ethiopian trader.
The adviser grinned. “I am by no means the only half-breed in Arabia—or in Axum.” The assembled commanders grinned back. From their appearance, at least two of them had obvious Arab ancestry. Antonina, knowing of the long and intimate contact between Ethiopia and Arabia, suspected that most Axumites had Arabs perched in their family trees. Whole flocks of Arabs, more often than not.
Garmat continued. “The towns of Yemen will support us, given a choice. The bedouin mean nothing. They will bow to whoever has the power, and will not rebel so long as their customs are not meddled with.” He shrugged. “Of course, their allegiance is casual. If there is unrest, they will look to take advantage. But so long as Axum is firmly in control of Yemen—and the Hijaz, the western coast—the bedouin will tend to their own affairs.”
He leaned forward, looking intently at Eon.
“I said this to your father, and I will say it to you. Mecca is the key. Weld the Hijaz to Ethiopian rule, and you will hold all of southern Arabia in a solid grip. But so long as the Quraysh are discontent, your rule is based on sand.”
For a moment, his eyes closed. “I was never quite able to convince Kaleb. He did not disagree, exactly, but—” The eyes reopened. “He was never willing to pay the price.”
Garmat’s tone hardened. “The price must be paid. Now.”
A murmur of protest began to rise from the military officers. Garmat eyed them stonily.
Antonina hesitated. She agreed with Garmat, but was unsure if she was in position to intervene in what was a delicate matter for Ethiopians.
Her hesitation was made moot, almost at once.
“What is your advice, Ousanas?” asked Eon.