with the waves instead of across them. Shouldn't be—"
"Do it!" commanded Belisarius.
Honorius sprang to obey.
Aide protested.
Cross the T! Cross the T!
Shut up! If you think this is so easy, you—you—damned little fat diamond!—you crawl out of that pouch and do it yourself.
Aide said nothing. But the facets were quivering with some very human sentiments.
SULK. POUT.
Then:
You'll be sorry.
By the time the scorpions were re-armed, Honorius had altered the vessel's course. They were now rowing directly toward the enemy. And, just as the sailor had predicted, the ship was much steadier.
Much steadier.
Belisarius and Valentinian fired almost simultaneously. A few seconds later, the taunts and catcalls were suddenly replaced by cries of alarm and screams of pain.
The two nearest akatoi erupted in flames. The rounded bow of the one Belisarius fired upon was burning fiercely. Valentinian's