The Tide of Victory by Eric Flint and David Drake

She didn’t think John would have approved, really. But John was gone, and Antonina herself was not much concerned over the matter. She suspected that Eusebius’ methods would probably work just as well.

And it was not her business, anyway. She forced her eyes away from Eusebius and looked at Ousanas. “Continue,” she said. She spoke the word so forcefully that she was reminded, again, of her own tension.

“Not much else to say, Antonina. Axum has slowly been extending its rule to the south anyway, over the past two centuries. But heretofore the process was basically unplanned and uncoordinated. Most of our attention was focused on the Red Sea and southern Arabia. We will retain those, of course. But we will seek no further expansion in that direction. The Arab farmers and townsmen and merchants of Yemen and the Hijaz are content enough with our rule. But if we press further, we would simply embroil ourselves in endless conflicts with the bedouin of the interior—not to mention the certainty of an eventual clash with Persia. No point to any of it!”

He broke off. Another rocket volley. Both rockets, this time, struck the shield. And both were deflected just as easily and harmlessly.

“So after the war with Malwa,” Ousanas resumed, “we will concentrate on the African interior—and do it properly. We will start by sending an expedition, led by myself, to incorporate the land between the great lakes which is my own homeland. That is the first step—along with seizing and settling the east African coast. At least as far south as the Pangani river. We will also seize the island of Zanzibar and build a fortress there. And we will found a new city on the coast, which will be destined to become a great seaport.”

He smiled whimsically. “There are definite advantages, you understand, to Aide’s knowledge of the future. Eon has even decreed that we will give that city the name it would have had, centuries from now. Mombasa.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes becoming slightly unfocused. “The thing is, Eon and I are also thinking far into the future. We will not live to see it, of course—neither us nor our great-grandchildren—but we think our plans will eventually produce a very different Africa than the one which existed in the old future. In that future, Axum became isolated very soon by the Moslem conquests. And so, instead of being the conduit into Africa for that Mediterranean civilization of which we are becoming a part, Ethiopia retreated into the highlands. And there it remained, century after century, still more or less intact—but playing no further role in the history of the world or even Africa.”

He cocked his head, gauging the sounds of the next Malwa volley. They were very close now, and both rockets missed entirely. Clearly enough, the priests manning the rocket troughs were getting rattled.

Eusebius and one of the sailors were now wrestling with the fire cannon’s barrel, swiveling it to starboard. Unlike the rigid, single-piece construction of a normal cannon, the flamethrower was designed in such a way that the barrel could be positioned in any one of five locations, covering an arc of ninety degrees, without moving the main body of the device. One of the other sailors was removing the shield covering the rearmost firing slit on the starboard side. Eusebius, following Antonina’s earlier terse instructions, intended to sail the Victrix right down the length of the Malwa galley, bathing it in hellfire as it passed. Hopefully, by the time the ship exploded, the Victrix would have sailed past far enough to avoid any catastrophic damage. Unless—

Again, Ousanas seemed to read Antonina’s thoughts. “Let’s hope one of those damned priests doesn’t decide to blow the ship while we’re alongside,” he muttered. Then, a bit more brightly: “But probably not, since we’re only one ship—and they’ll have no way of knowing you are aboard.”

“Or you,” she retorted. “You are Axum’s aqabe tsentsen. A Mahaveda might decide that was a satisfactory prize to take to hell with him.”

Ousanas chuckled. “In the dark of night? Just another heathen black savage, that’s all.” He took Antonina’s hand in his own and squeezed it. Then, gently, turned her wrist over and opened his palm. Her small hand, dusky-Egyptian though it was, was pale across the breadth of his own hand, black with African color.

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