The statement brought instant silence. Seventeen pairs of beady eyes were examining her, like ferrets studying a hen. Except this hen had just announced that she was mated to a roc.
Antonina nodded toward Ousanas. The hunter was squatting out of the way, in a corner of the tent. He had been there since the Arabs first entered. After a glance, none of them had paid him any attention. The Roman woman's slave, obviously; beneath their notice.
Ousanas grinned and rose lazily. The tall hunter reached behind him and drew forth his great stabbing spear. Then, hefting it easily, he began rattling off some quick sentences in fluent Arabic. Antonina could only follow some of it, but the gist was not hard to grasp.
Simple concepts, really.Yeah, that's right, you mangy fucks. I was there too. (Here, two of the chieftains hissed and tried to edge their way back into the crowd. No translation was needed-they remembered Ousanas, clearly enough.)It was almost funny the way you pitiful amateur pirates scuttled over the sides-the few of you who still could, that is, after we gutted and beheaded and disemboweled and maimed and mangled and slaughtered- And so on, and so forth. Fortunately, Ousanas concluded on a happier note.
So let's not hear any crap about what can and can't be done. Youcouldn't do it, for sure. But nobody's asking you to. We'll do the serious work. All you've got to do is haul away the spoils.
The fishermen/bandits had taken no offense at Ousanas' grisly taunts. But they were deeply offended by his last statement.
Again, Antonina had no difficulty interpreting the gist of their hot-tempered remarks.
What? Do we look like fools? Why would you do all the dangerous work and let us take the loot? Snort, snort.Do you take us for idiots? Lies, lies.
Antonina decided to interject the voice of sweet, feminine reason.
"Nobody said you'd getall the loot, you stupid oafs. Do we look like fools, ourselves?" She pointed imperiously at the fleet of Ethiopian warships moored in the bay. The ships were quite visible in the moonlight, since the tent flaps had been pulled aside to allow the cooling breeze to enter.
"Those, you ignorant dolts, are what are calledwarships." Snort, snort. "As different from your pitiful canoes as a lion from a sheep." Sneer, sneer. "Youdo know what a sheep is, don't you? You should. You' ve fucked them often enough, since you're too ugly to seduce a woman and too clumsy to catch one."
The Arabs laughed uproariously. Then, settling comfortably on their haunches, they readied for some serious bargaining. Clearly, the Roman was a woman they could do business with. A marvelous command of insult, even if her words were stumbling and prosaic. But allowances had to be made. Arabic was not her native tongue, after all.
Antonina clapped her hands, like a schoolteacher commanding the attention of stupid and unruly students. The Arabs grinned.
"The Axumite warships are quite capable of bringing down the Malwa vessels. The problem is-they're fighting ships. Not much room, with all the soldiers, to carry off loot." Her next words, Antonina spoke very slowly, so that imbeciles might be able to follow her simple reasoning.
"We… will… take… what… we… can. You… get… the… rest. Do… you… understand?"
Suspicion came back, in full force.
Why would you offer us charity? Are we fools? A trap! A trap! One of them began warning his fellows that the treacherous Romans and Ethiopians were trying to steal their dhows, but he was silenced by scowls. Insulting, that was, to their intelligence. The Arabs knew perfectly well the Ethiopians were about as interested in patchedtogether dhows as they were in camel dung. Still Why?
"We are at war with Malwa," was Antonina's reply. "We will strike their convoy, but we are not seeking loot as such. After we are done, we will sail east, to storm their fortress at Barbaricum. Burn it to the ground. In war, you must move quickly. We will not have time to plunder the entire convoy and make sure it is completely destroyed. We simply cripple it, take what we can-quickly-and be on our way. You will finish them off."
She leaned back, gazing on them serenely. Like a schoolteacher, satisfied that she had-finally-hammered home the simple lesson. "With your help, we strike the hardest blow at Malwa. With our help, you get much plunder. That's the bargain."
It took two more hours. But it was not really difficult. Most of the time was spent haggling over the peripheral details.
The Arabs would stay out of sight of land, like the Ethiopians. They would obey the orders of the flotilla commander. (Here, Antonina pointed to Ousanas; the hunter began honing his spear.) They would not wander off if they spotted a lone merchant ship. And so on, and so forth.
Not difficult. Those men knew a good bargain when they saw one. Even if they weren't geniuses.
The Tigris
Autumn, 532 A.D.
"You seem unhappy, Sanga," commented Damodara. "Why is that?"
