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Now in sheer desperation, her eyes moved to the only other men on the pier. Three soldiers, judging from their weapons and gear. They had already been on the pier when A
The soldiers were lounging in the shade of a small pavilion they had erected. For a moment, as she had when she first caught sight of them, A
But this was no time for idle speculation. The rivermen were very close now. The soldiers returned A
Still-they could, in a way that two elderly sailors couldn't.
Pay them.
Moving as quickly as she could in her elaborate clothing-and cursing herself silently, again, for having been so stupid as to make this insane journey without giving a thought to her apparel-A
"I need help," she hissed.
The soldier in the center of the little group, one of the Isaurians, glanced at the eight rivermen and chuckled.
"I'd say so. You'll be lucky if they don't kill you after they rob and rape you."
His Greek was fluent, if heavily accented. As he proceeded to demonstrate further. "Stupid noblewoman. Brains like a chicken. Are you some kind of idiot, traveling alone down this part of Mesopotamia? The difference between a riverman here and a pirate-"
He turned his head and spit casually over the leg of the other Isaurian. His brother, judging from the close resemblance.
"I'll pay you," she said.
The two brothers exchanged glances. The one on the side, who seemed to be the younger one, shrugged. "We can use her boat to take us out of Mesopotamia. Beats walking, and the chance of another caravan… But nothing fancy," he muttered. "We're almost home."
His older brother grunted agreement and turned his head to look at the Arab. The Arab's shrug expressed the same tepid enthusiasm. "Nothing fancy," he echoed. "It's too hot."
The Isaurian in the middle lazed to his feet. He wasn't much taller than A
"All right. Here's the way it is. You give us half your money and whatever other valuables you've got." He tapped the jeweled necklace around her throat. "The rivermen can take the rest of it. They'll settle for that, just to avoid a brawl."
She almost wailed. Not quite. "I can't. I need the money to get to-"
The soldier scowled. "Idiot! We'll keep them from taking your boat, we'll leave you enough-just enough-to get back to your family, and we'll escort you into Anatolia."
He glanced again at the rivermen. They were standing some few yards away, hesitant now. "You've no business here, girl," he growled quietly. "Just be thankful you'll get out of this with your life."
His brother had gotten to his feet also. He snorted sarcastically. "Not to mention keeping your precious hymen intact. That ought to be worth a lot, once you get back to your family."
The fury which had filled A
Now the Arab was on his feet. Hearing her words, he laughed aloud. "God save us! An abandoned little wife, no less."
The rivermen were begi
That done, his eyes came back to A
"He already has a fortune," hissed A
The Arab laughed again. "Fame, is it? Maybe in your circles! And what is the name of this paragon of martial virtue? Anthony the Illustrious Courier?"
The other three soldiers shared in the little laugh. For a moment, A
"He is famous," A
The name Belisarius brought a sudden little stillness to the group of soldiers. The Isaurian leader's eyes narrowed.
"Belisarius? What's the general got to do with your husband?"
"And what's his name?" added the Arab.
A
The stillness turned into frozen rigidity. All three soldiers' eyes were now almost slits.
The Isaurian leader drew a deep breath. "Are you trying to tell us that you are the wife of Calopodius the Blind?"
For a moment, a spike of anguish drove through the anger. She didn't really understand where it came from. Calopodius had always seemed blind to her, in his own way. But…
Her own deep breath was a shaky thing. "They say he is blind now, yes. Belisarius' letter to the Senate said so. He says it himself, in fact, in his letters. I-I guess it's true. I haven't seen him in many months. When he left…"
One of the rivermen began to say something, in a surly tone of voice. The gaze which the Isaurian now turned on him was nothing casual. It was a flat, flat gaze. As cold as a snake's and just as deadly. Even a girl as sheltered as A
He turned his eyes back to A
"Why would I lie?" she demanded angrily. "And how do you expect me to prove it, anyway?"
Belatedly, a thought came to her. "Unless…" She glanced at the little sailing craft which had brought her here, still piled high with her belongings. "If you can read Greek, I have several of his letters to me."
The Arab sighed softly. "As you say, 'why would you lie?'" His dark eyes examined her face carefully. "God help us. You really don't even understand, do you?"
She shook her head, confused. "Understand what? Do you know him yourself?"
The Isaurian leader's sigh was a more heartfelt thing. "No, lass, we didn't. We were so rich, after Charax, that we left the general's service. We"-he gestured at his brother-"I'm Illus, by the way, and he's Cottomenes-had more than enough to buy us a big farm back home. And Abdul decided to go in with us."
"I'm sick of the desert," muttered the Arab. "Sick of camels, too. Never did like the damn beasts."
The Arab was of the same height as the two Isaurian brothers-about average-but much less stocky in his frame. Still, in his light half-armor and with a spatha scabbarded to his waist, he seemed no less deadly.