An Oblique Approach

As he walked down the line of the caravan, Kungas puzzled over the matter.

Now that I think about it, our great lord did seem a bit peeved with them. Their leader, especially. I noticed Venandakatra casting quite a few glares in his direction. Didn't think much of it, at the time. I assumed it was just the great lord's mood, being spread around as usual. He has no reason to be pissed off at the foreigners, that I can see. Did him a service, they did. Without them, a few of the Ye-tai might have gotten to the bastard and carved him up.

Odd.

Eventually, Kungas found his party. The leader was standing off to the side of the road, watching the progress in loading the howdahs on the two elephants assigned to the foreigners. He and the two men with him were apparently seeking relief from the midday heat in the shade of the trees. That alone marked them for foreigners, leaving aside their pale skins and outlandish costumes. Shade brought little relief from the humid swelter. The trees simply cut down the slight breeze and provided a haven for insects.

Looking at him, Kungas was struck again by the disparity between the man and his position.

Weirdest general I ever saw. Too young by half, and twice as deadly as any general I ever met. That man is pure murder with a sword.

Thoughts of deadliness drew Kungas' eyes to the general's companions. They were standing a few feet away from their leader, in the posture of guards.

Kungas examined the one on the left first—the smaller one.

I do believe that is the wickedest-looking man I ever saw in my life. Like the world's meanest mongoose.

He transferred his gaze to the one on the right—the huge one.

Legends live. The great ogre of the Himalayas walks among us. With a face carved out of the very stone of the great mountains.

The general caught sight of him. He seemed to stiffen a bit, but Kungas wasn't certain. The general had one of those expressionless faces which are almost impossible to read. Kungas marched up to him. Summoned up his poor Greek.

"You is General Belisarius? Envoy for—from Rome?"

The general nodded.

"I is name Kungas. Commander for—of Lord Venandakatra's Kushan—ah, group? Force. Lord Venandakatra has—ah, what is word?—"

"I speak Kushan," said the general.

Kungas sighed inward relief.

"Thank you. I fear my Greek is wretched. We have been assigned to serve as your escort during the trip to Ranapur."

Again, Kungas found it almost impossible to read the man's expression. But, yes, he did seem a bit stiff. As if he were unhappy to see the Kushan. Kungas couldn't think of a reason why that would be true, but he was almost sure he was correct.

However, the general was cordial. And his Kushan was certainly good. Excellent, in fact—without even a trace of an accent.

"A pleasure, Kungas." His voice was a rich baritone.

The general hesitated, and then said:

"Please do not take this the wrong way, Kungas. But I must say I'm surprised to see you. We don't really need an escort. We didn't have one on the trip here from Bharakuccha. We're quite capable of taking care of ourselves."

Kungas' face cracked into a tiny smile.

"Yes, I have seen. However, the lord was quite insistent."

"Ah." The general was diverted for a moment, swiping at a fly which landed on his neck. Kungas noted, however, that the foreigner's keen brown eyes never left off their scrutiny of him. And that he killed the fly regardless.

After flicking away the dead insect, the general commented idly:

"I would have thought you would be assigned to join the hunt for the princess and her rescuers—ah, excuse me, abductors."

The iron face grew harder still.

"I fear my lord has developed a certain distrust for us. I do not understand why. The princess was not resc—ah, abducted—while we were guarding her."

Kungas thought the general was fighting back a smile. But he was not certain. A hard man to read.

"Besides," Kungas continued, "Lord Venandakatra really has no need for us to join the pursuit. He already has hundreds of Rajput cavalry scouring the countryside, and well over a thousand other troops."

The foreign general looked away for a moment. When the eyes turned back, his gaze seemed particularly intent.