in the winter, instead of Syria in the summer."
Antonina grimaced at the thought. Then, with a sly little smile:
"Don't I get a sword, too?"
Maurice shook his head.
"I've got something better."
He drew a scabbarded knife—a large and odd knife, judging from the sheath—and handed it to her.
Antonina drew the blade out of the scabbard. She could not restrain a little gasp.
"You recognize it, I see," said Maurice. His voice was full of satisfaction. "The shopkeeper drove a hard bargain for it, but I thought it was fitting."
Antonina stared back and forth from Maurice to the cleaver.
The hecatontarch's lips twisted into a grim smile.
"Ask any veteran, Antonina. They'll all tell you there's nothing as important in a battle as having a trusty, tested blade."
Suddenly, the feel of that simple cooking utensil in her hand filled Antonina with a great rush of confidence.
"I do believe you're right, Maurice."
She sensed, from the murmuring voices around her, that the cataphracts were passing the news to the grenadiers. Seconds later, the grenadiers began a new chant:
"CLEAVE THEM! CLEAVE THEM!"
With Maurice's help, she clambered into her saddle, suppressing a curse at the awkward weight of the helmet and armor. Once securely seated, she raised the butcher knife over her head, waving it.
The grenadiers roared. The cataphracts joined their voices to the cry:
"NOTHING! NOTHING!"
Antonina suppressed a laugh.
For all the world like a warrior of legend, waving a mystic sword of renown!
Which, though she did not know it yet, she was; and which, to her everlasting surprise, that humble cleaver would become.
Chapter 25
When John of Rhodes saw the approaching dromon, he began cursing bitterly.
Some of his curses were directed at Irene
Antonina grimaced at the thought. Then, with a sly little smile:
"Don't I get a sword, too?"
Maurice shook his head.
"I've got something better."
He drew a scabbarded knife—a large and odd knife, judging from the sheath—and handed it to her.
Antonina drew the blade out of the scabbard. She could not restrain a little gasp.
"You recognize it, I see," said Maurice. His voice was full of satisfaction. "The shopkeeper drove a hard bargain for it, but I thought it was fitting."
Antonina stared back and forth from Maurice to the cleaver.
The hecatontarch's lips twisted into a grim smile.
"Ask any veteran, Antonina. They'll all tell you there's nothing as important in a battle as having a trusty, tested blade."
Suddenly, the feel of that simple cooking utensil in her hand filled Antonina with a great rush of confidence.
"I do believe you're right, Maurice."
She sensed, from the murmuring voices around her, that the cataphracts were passing the news to the grenadiers. Seconds later, the grenadiers began a new chant:
"CLEAVE THEM! CLEAVE THEM!"
With Maurice's help, she clambered into her saddle, suppressing a curse at the awkward weight of the helmet and armor. Once securely seated, she raised the butcher knife over her head, waving it.
The grenadiers roared. The cataphracts joined their voices to the cry:
"NOTHING! NOTHING!"
Antonina suppressed a laugh.
For all the world like a warrior of legend, waving a mystic sword of renown!
Which, though she did not know it yet, she was; and which, to her everlasting surprise, that humble cleaver would become.
Chapter 25
When John of Rhodes saw the approaching dromon, he began cursing bitterly.
Some of his curses were directed at Irene