Destiny's Shield

"Get your troops ready. I want all of them in full armor. That includes the cataphracts' horses. Full armor—nothing less. Make sure of it. In this heat, a lot of the men will try to slide through with half-armor."

"Full armor?" Ashot winced. "Be like an oven. Antonina, we're not dealing with Persian dehgans here, for the sake of Christ. Just a pack of scruffy—"

Antonina shook her head firmly. "That's overkill, I know, against a street mob. But your troops won't be in the middle of the action, anyway, and I want them to look as intimidating as possible."

Ashot's eyes widened. So did Hermogenes'.

"Not in the middle of it?" asked the Armenian cataphract.

Antonina smiled. Then, turned to face Zeno.

"I believe it's time for the Knights Hospitaler to take center stage."

Zeno nodded solemnly. "So do I, Antonina. And this is the perfect opportunity."

"I'm not so sure about that," muttered Hermo-genes. He gave Zeno a half-apologetic, half-skeptical glance. "Meaning no offense, but your monks have only had a small amount of training. This is one hell of a messy situation to throw them into."

Antonina started to intervene. But then, seeing the confident expression on Zeno's face, decided to let the Knight Hospitaler handle the matter.

"We have trained much more than you realize, Hermogenes," said Zeno. "Not"—he waved his hand—"with your kind of full armor and weapons in a field battle situation, of course. But we took advantage of the very long voyage here to train on board the grain ships. With quarterstaffs."

Hermogenes stared at the Knights Hospitaler as if the man had just announced that he was armed with bread sticks. Ashot was positively goggling.

"Quarterstaffs?" choked the Armenian cataphract.

Now, Antonina did intervene. "That was my husband's idea," she stated. "He said it was the perfect weapon for riot duty."

Hearing the authority of Belisarius invoked, Ashot and Hermogenes reined in their disdain. A bit.

Zeno spoke up again. "I do not think you fully understand the situation here, Hermogenes. Ashot." He cleared his throat. "I am Egyptian myself, you know. I wasn't born in Alexandria—I come from Naucratis, in the Delta—but I am familiar with the place. And its religious politics."

He pointed through the open doors. "We must be very careful. We do not want to create martyrs. And—especially—we don't want to infuriate the great masses of orthodox Greeks who make up a third of Alexandria's populace."

He nodded approvingly at Antonina. "You saw how well Antonina handled the guilds, earlier. But you musn't forget that almost all of those men are Greeks, and orthodox. They completely dominate the city's commerce and manufacture. They are the same men we will be relying on—tomorrow, and for years to come—to forge the Roman arsenal against the Malwa. For doctrinal reasons, most of those people are inclined to support Paul and his diehards. But they are also uneasy about their fanaticism, and their thuggery. Bad for business, if nothing else."

Antonina pitched in. "It's essential that we drive a wedge between Paul's fanatics and the majority of the orthodox population. If we have a massacre, the city's Greeks will be driven into open opposition. And you know as well as I do—better than I do—how the cataphracts and the regular infantry will hammer into that mob if they're in the forefront."

She stared at Ashot and Hermogenes. The two officers looked away.

"You know!" she snapped. "Those men are trained to do one thing, and one thing only. Slaughter people. Do you really want to unleash a volley of cataphract arrows against a crowd? This is not the Nika revolt, God damn it! There, we were dealing with Malwa kshatriya and thousands of professional thugs armed to the teeth. Here—"

She blew out her breath. "Christ! Half of that crowd will be there more out of excitement and curiosity than anything else. Many of them will be women and children. You may be crazy, but I'm not. Theodora sent me here to stabilize imperial rule in Egypt. To stop a civil war, not start one."

Ashot and Hermogenes were looking hangdog, now. But Antonina was relentless.

"That's the way it's going to be. I have complete confidence that the Knights Hospitaler can handle the situation. I simply want you there—in the background, but fully armed and armored—to add a little spice to the meal. Just to let the crowd know, after Paul's goons have been beaten into a pulp and routed, that it could have been one hell of a lot worse."

She chuckled, very coldly. "You may sneer at quarterstaffs, but my husband doesn't. And I think, by the end of the day, you won't be sneering either."

She straightened, assuming as tall a stance as she could. Which wasn't much, but quite enough.

"You have your orders. Follow them."