“Wish I’d met your pop,” he said. “He must have been quite a guy.”
Antonina laughed giddily.
“He was a complete scoundrel, Maurice! A worthless bum!”
Then, bursting into tears, she slid down the wall into a half-kneeling squat. She pressed the back of her hand—still holding the knife—against her mouth, smearing her face with yet more blood.
Gasped, choked, sobbed.
Whispered:
“Thank you, father. Oh, thank you.”
Chapter 24
“Stop fussing over me, Irene!” snapped Antonina. “I’m fine, I tell you.”
The spymaster shook her head. Irene’s face was pale and drawn. She had been sequestered in Theodora’s quarters for days, and had not learned about the assassination attempt until early the following morning. She had come to Antonina’s villa in the suburbs immediately.
Antonina went to a closet and began pulling out fresh clothes. The garments she had been wearing when she and Maurice returned to the villa the night before had already been destroyed. Expensive as they were, there was simply no way to clean off that much blood and gore.
“Wear a heavy cloak,” said Irene. “It’s cold out.” Then, darkly: “I should never have agreed to let you go alone.”
Antonina planted her hands on her hips and glared at her friend.
“It was not your decision in the first place,” she pointed out. “It was mine. I’ve always gone alone to those meetings. Balban insisted.”
Irene wiped her face with a trembling hand.
“I know. Still—God, you were almost murdered.”
Antonina shrugged. Then, shrugged her way into a tunic. Her muffled voice came from within the simple, utilitarian garment:
“But I wasn’t. And there’s an end to it. So stop fussing. Besides—” Her face popped out, smiling broadly. “—it was the best news I’ve heard, so to speak, in months. You do realize what that assassination attempt means, don’t you?”
Irene frowned. Antonina laughed.
“You’re supposed to be the spymaster here, Irene! So start spymastering, for a moment, and stop fretting over me as if I were your little chick.”
Irene was still frowning.
“Think, woman. Why would the Malwa decide to kill me? Now, of all times?”
Irene’s eyes widened. She pressed her fingers over her lips.
“Belisarius!”
Antonina grinned.
“Precisely. Balban must have gotten new orders from India. Which means that my dear husband has done something to completely infuriate the Malwa. And it also means that he’s escaped from their clutches.”
“Of course,” hissed Irene. The spymaster began pacing slowly.
“If they had their hands on him, they’d have even greater leverage over you than they thought they had. There would have been no reason to have you murdered. Quite the contrary.”
By now, Antonina had finished dressing and was lacing on her boots. She nodded her head. “That’s right. Which means he’ll be arriving in Constantinople, sooner or later.”
“When, do you think?”
Antonina shrugged.
“There’s no way to know. We have no idea what route he’s taking to get out of India. Most likely, he’ll return by ship to Axum. If he does, Ashot and his men will be there to meet him.”
She headed toward the door. Added: “Ashot’s instruction were very clear. They’ll sail up the Red Sea, portage to the Nile, and then take the river to Alexandria. There’ll be a ship waiting to bring them straight to Constantinople.”
Once in the corridor, Antonina strode hurriedly toward the villa’s entrance. “They could get here almost any time. Or—not for weeks.”
Behind her, Irene grimaced.
“I wish we knew. It would—”
Antonina gestured the thought away. “Don’t even think about it, Irene! We can’t make any plans based on my husband’s return. We can only forge ahead. Speaking of which—have all the grenades arrived?”
They reached the foyer. Maurice was there, waiting for them. Like Antonina, he had changed his garments. But his helmet and half-armor were the same he had been wearing earlier. He had simply cleaned them off. That kitchen had not been his first slaughterhouse. The new stains were lost amid the relics of old gore.
Maurice answered her question.
“Yes. And they’ve already been taken to the monastery.”
“Let’s go, then,” said Antonina.
Maurice held the door open. Antonina strode through into the courtyard, shivering a bit from the cold of a December morning. Then, seeing the mounted cataphracts in the courtyard and the street beyond, she stopped. Did a quick little count. Spun around.