boards were shredded.
"It's an art," she said. "If the fuse is cut too short, the grenade blows up while still in the air. Too short, before the grenadier can even launch it. But if it's cut too long, the enemy will have time to toss it back."
She exhaled satisfaction. "The grenadiers' women are the masters of the art." Chuckle. "Even Sittas finally quit grumbling, and admitted as much, after he tried it himself."
"What happened?"
Antonina smiled. "At first, every grenade he sent got tossed back on his head. Fortunately, he was using practice grenades, which only make a loud pop when they burst. But he was still hopping about like a toad, trying to dodge. Finally, he got frustrated and cut the fuse too short." Grin. "Way too short."
"Was he hurt?"
Big grin. "Not much. But he had to drink with his left hand for a few days. Couldn't hold a wine cup in his right, for all the bandages."
The exercises culminated in a grand maneuver, simulating a full scale battle. The entire regiment of Syrian peasants and their wives formed up at the center, in well spaced formation. Units of Hermogenes' infantry braced the gaps, acting as a shield for the grenadiers against close assault. Maurice and his cataphracts, in full armor atop their horses, guarded the flanks against cavalry.
Sittas gave the order. The grenadiers hurled a volley. Their sling-cast grenades tore up the soil of the empty terrain a hundred and fifty yards away. The infantry marched forward ten yards, shields and swords bristling. The grenadier squads matched the advance, their wives prepared the next volley, slung. Again the soil was churned into chaos. Again, the infantry strode forward. Again, the grenades.
On the flanks, the cataphracts spread out like the jaws of a shark.
Sittas turned in his saddle, beamed at the Empress.
"Looks marvelous," murmured the Empress to Antonina. "How will it do in an actual battle, though?"
Antonina shrugged.
"It'll be a mess, I imagine. Nothing like this tidy business. But I'm not worried about it, Theodora. The enemy won't be in any better shape."
Theodora eyed her skeptically.
"Relax,
"It's an art," she said. "If the fuse is cut too short, the grenade blows up while still in the air. Too short, before the grenadier can even launch it. But if it's cut too long, the enemy will have time to toss it back."
She exhaled satisfaction. "The grenadiers' women are the masters of the art." Chuckle. "Even Sittas finally quit grumbling, and admitted as much, after he tried it himself."
"What happened?"
Antonina smiled. "At first, every grenade he sent got tossed back on his head. Fortunately, he was using practice grenades, which only make a loud pop when they burst. But he was still hopping about like a toad, trying to dodge. Finally, he got frustrated and cut the fuse too short." Grin. "Way too short."
"Was he hurt?"
Big grin. "Not much. But he had to drink with his left hand for a few days. Couldn't hold a wine cup in his right, for all the bandages."
The exercises culminated in a grand maneuver, simulating a full scale battle. The entire regiment of Syrian peasants and their wives formed up at the center, in well spaced formation. Units of Hermogenes' infantry braced the gaps, acting as a shield for the grenadiers against close assault. Maurice and his cataphracts, in full armor atop their horses, guarded the flanks against cavalry.
Sittas gave the order. The grenadiers hurled a volley. Their sling-cast grenades tore up the soil of the empty terrain a hundred and fifty yards away. The infantry marched forward ten yards, shields and swords bristling. The grenadier squads matched the advance, their wives prepared the next volley, slung. Again the soil was churned into chaos. Again, the infantry strode forward. Again, the grenades.
On the flanks, the cataphracts spread out like the jaws of a shark.
Sittas turned in his saddle, beamed at the Empress.
"Looks marvelous," murmured the Empress to Antonina. "How will it do in an actual battle, though?"
Antonina shrugged.
"It'll be a mess, I imagine. Nothing like this tidy business. But I'm not worried about it, Theodora. The enemy won't be in any better shape."
Theodora eyed her skeptically.
"Relax,