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"More important-who shall rule?" another man asked.
Okay, let's see if we can get this across, she thought, and took a deep breath. "We don't wish to rule here. We suggest that each of your factions elect-get together and choose by show of hands"-none of these languages had a word for vote, but an assembly of the tribe's warriors was a familiar institution- "a man, a consul. The three consuls will rule, and each district should hold an assembly which-
It took all day just to get the idea across. Probably the Sicilian Republic would dissolve in chaos as soon as the small Islander garrison departed-she was going to use a couple of battalions of Alban auxiliaries for that, as long as she needed Syracuse as a base.
Then again, it might not; and it would serve Nantucket's purpose either way.
Spring came late to the uplands of central Anatolia, but when it did it came with a rush. Ke
Even better with a girl, he thought.
Raupasha's hand rested shyly in his. A dusting of the blossoms rested on her raven hair and the dark linen shoulders of her robe. He smiled down into the scarred, lovely face. Sabala sniffed at them, then raced off to make lunging snaps at butterflies.
"I did not dream a great warrior could be so… so sweet," she said a bit breathlessly, after they broke the clinch and walked on.
I didn't dream I could be so goddamned horny and not mind waiting… well, not mind it much, he thought. And: By God, an Islander upbringing gets you mileage here. Men here didn't have much technique; they didn't really need it.
As if to confirm his thought, Raupasha went on: "It is so strange, this custom you have of men and women arranging their own marriages… doesn't it lead to much foolishness, as youth lacks the wisdom of age?"
He nodded. "We marry later than your folk, usually. But yes, about as much unhappiness as any other way… but we have a saying, that it's better to be ruled by your own mistakes than someone else's wisdom."
That shocked her a little; he could see her frown. "But… then, how can a man be sure his bride is a virgin? If she has gone about seeking a man on her own."
He chuckled gently. The question made complete sense, in her terms; for that matter, his own ancestors-unless they happened to be Fiernan Bohulugi, or Trobriand Islanders-would have agreed with it.
"We don't think more of virginity in a woman than in a man," he said. Most of us, at least. "And as for married women, people can either trust each other, or they can't."
"In that case," she said, halting again and putting her arms around his neck.
A few minutes later her fingers were scrabbling open the buckle of his webbing belt with desperate eagerness. He pulled the hem of her robe upward and she raised her arms to free it, gasping as his mouth sought a breast and they both sank toward the soft spring grass-
Arrooooooown. Arroooooown.
"Oh, God dammit to hell, what now?"
That was the charioteer's horn, the agreed signal of something important. Raupasha broke away, smoothing her hair and rumpled gown, flushed and smiling as they walked back toward the vehicle; he ground his teeth and walked carefully.
All winter to get over the trauma, and now that she has, we get interrupted!
A mounted Hittite messenger waited beside the chariot; his mount was lathered, and he sweat-stained and tired.
"Lord Ke
Ke
"What news, lo-, Ken," she said. "Is Walker moving?"
"Yes," he said. His fist crumpled the paper. "But that's not the whole of it." Her brows went up. "Pharaoh has denounced the treaty with the Hittites. Evidently he thinks this would be a good time to get revenge for the Battle of Kadesh. A bit startling and a bit late, seeing that that was forty years ago, but…" He shrugged.
Raupasha blinked, turning from an eighteen-year-old in love to the ruler who'd commanded a chariot squadron behind enemy lines. For a moment her living eye was as blank as the molded leather one in the mask that covered the scarred part of her face.
"But how can we turn aside to the south, if Walker moves in from the west?"
"We can't," Hollard said grimly. "Tudhaliyas has called up his southern levies and vassals. They'll have to hold Pharaoh."
"But they are troops without firearms!"
He nodded. "Possibly the commodore can send help from Sicily."
"If not…'
"If not, Ramses may walk all the way to the walls of Hattusas."
"Or to the Euphrates, and cut us here off from Kar-Duniash, which is nearly as bad."
They looked at each other and stepped into the chariot. "Iridmi!" Raupasha called crisply. "To the camp-and do not spare the team."
CHAPTER THIRTY
April, 11 A.E.-Canaan, Kingdom of Egypt
April, 11 A.E.-Central Anatolia, Kingdom of Haiti-land
April, 11 A.E.-Canaan, Kingdom of Egypt
April, 11 A.E.-Eurotas Valley, Kingdom of Great Achaea
April. 11 A.E.-Damascus, Kingdom of Haiti-Land
April, 11 A.E.-Meggido, Kingdom of Egypt
April, 11 A.E.-Walkeropolis, Kingdom of Great Achaea
April, 11 A.E.-Meggido, Kingdom of Egypt
April, 11 A.E.-Achaean camp, western Anatolia
The ca
Djehuty, Commander of the Brigade of Seth, was a little uncomfortable on horseback even after months of practice with the new saddle with stirrups; the son riding beside him had learned more quickly.
Still, there was no denying it was convenient. He turned his horse and rode back down along the track beside his units, with the standard-bearer, scribes, aides, and messengers behind him. The rutted track was deep in sand, like most of the coastal plain of Canaan… where it wasn't swamp mud or rocks. The infantry in their banded-linen corselets plodded along, their brown faces darker yet with dust and streaked with sweat under their striped headdresses of thick canvas. Round-topped rectangular shields were slung over their shoulders, bronze spear blades glinted in the bright sun. After them came a company of Nubians, Medjay mercenaries from far up the Nile. Djehuty frowned; the black men were slouching along in their usual style, in no order at all… although anyone who'd seen one of their screaming charges could forgive them that.
Then came one of the New Regiments; they wore only kilts and pleated loin-guards, but there were leather bandoliers of papyrus cartridges at their right hips and muskets over their shoulders. Djehuty scowled slightly at the sight of them, despite the brave show they made with their feet moving in unison and the golden-fan standard carried before them on a long pole.
Their weapons are good, he acknowledged. "But will they stand in battle?" he asked himself. They were peasants, not iw'yt, not real soldiers, raised from childhood in the barracks.
After them came the ca