now, Antonina had finished dressing and was lacing on her boots. She nodded her head. "That's right. Which means he'll be arriving in Constantinople, sooner or later."
"When, do you think?"
Antonina shrugged.
"There's no way to know. We have no idea what route he's taking to get out of India. Most likely, he'll return by ship to Axum. If he does, Ashot and his men will be there to meet him."
She headed toward the door. Added: "Ashot's instruction were very clear. They'll sail up the Red Sea, portage to the Nile, and then take the river to Alexandria. There'll be a ship waiting to bring them straight to Constantinople."
Once in the corridor, Antonina strode hurriedly toward the villa's entrance. "They could get here almost any time. Or—not for weeks."
Behind her, Irene grimaced.
"I wish we knew. It would—"
Antonina gestured the thought away. "Don't even think about it, Irene! We can't make any plans based on my husband's return. We can only forge ahead. Speaking of which—have all the grenades arrived?"
They reached the foyer. Maurice was there, waiting for them. Like Antonina, he had changed his garments. But his helmet and half-armor were the same he had been wearing earlier. He had simply cleaned them off. That kitchen had not been his first slaughterhouse. The new stains were lost amid the relics of old gore.
Maurice answered her question.
"Yes. And they've already been taken to the monastery."
"Let's go, then," said Antonina.
Maurice held the door open. Antonina strode through into the courtyard, shivering a bit from the cold of a December morning. Then, seeing the mounted cataphracts in the courtyard and the street beyond, she stopped. Did a quick little count. Spun around.
"Where are the rest of the cataphracts, Maurice?" she demanded. "There's not more than a hundred here."
Maurice's jaws tightened.
"The rest of them are busy, at the moment. But they'll be joining us soon enough. They'll meet us at the monastery when they're done."
Antonina peered at him suspiciously.
"Busy? 'Done'? Doing what?"
The hecatontarch's face was like
"When, do you think?"
Antonina shrugged.
"There's no way to know. We have no idea what route he's taking to get out of India. Most likely, he'll return by ship to Axum. If he does, Ashot and his men will be there to meet him."
She headed toward the door. Added: "Ashot's instruction were very clear. They'll sail up the Red Sea, portage to the Nile, and then take the river to Alexandria. There'll be a ship waiting to bring them straight to Constantinople."
Once in the corridor, Antonina strode hurriedly toward the villa's entrance. "They could get here almost any time. Or—not for weeks."
Behind her, Irene grimaced.
"I wish we knew. It would—"
Antonina gestured the thought away. "Don't even think about it, Irene! We can't make any plans based on my husband's return. We can only forge ahead. Speaking of which—have all the grenades arrived?"
They reached the foyer. Maurice was there, waiting for them. Like Antonina, he had changed his garments. But his helmet and half-armor were the same he had been wearing earlier. He had simply cleaned them off. That kitchen had not been his first slaughterhouse. The new stains were lost amid the relics of old gore.
Maurice answered her question.
"Yes. And they've already been taken to the monastery."
"Let's go, then," said Antonina.
Maurice held the door open. Antonina strode through into the courtyard, shivering a bit from the cold of a December morning. Then, seeing the mounted cataphracts in the courtyard and the street beyond, she stopped. Did a quick little count. Spun around.
"Where are the rest of the cataphracts, Maurice?" she demanded. "There's not more than a hundred here."
Maurice's jaws tightened.
"The rest of them are busy, at the moment. But they'll be joining us soon enough. They'll meet us at the monastery when they're done."
Antonina peered at him suspiciously.
"Busy? 'Done'? Doing what?"
The hecatontarch's face was like