Destiny's Shield

Belisarius broke the silence with a little laugh. "She is not naive, Emperor. Far from it! She will understand the inevitable results, once lonely young Roman troops—" He broke off, gazing into the distance. "It's amazing," he mused, "how many beautiful women you Aryans seem to produce."

Khusrau grinned. "We are a comely folk. It cannot be denied." The grin faded. "But you think the Empress Regent will still agree?"

Belisarius nodded. "It will be enough, I think, if Theodora can tell her suspicions that she didn't actually give the secrets outright. At least the damned Persians had to sweat for them."

"In a manner of speaking," chuckled Khusrau. He planted his hands on his knees and rose to his feet. As always, the movement was quick and energetic.

"Speaking of beautiful Persian girls," he said, "I have ordered a reception tonight in my pavilion. In honor of Merena's daughter, now married to one of your top commanders. She accompanied him here, I understand."

Belisarius rose, nodding. "Yes, she did. She insisted on it, apparently, much to Agathius' surprise."

The Persian Emperor began leading the way toward the pavilion. He cocked his head.

"Was he angry? Did he really believe all those tales about obedient Persian wives?"

Belisarius laughed. "Actually, he was quite pleased. He's very taken by the girl, I think. It was not simply a marriage of ambition."

Khusrau smiled. "Good. That bodes well for the future. Most auspicious, that wedding—I would like to see more of them."

"So would I," agreed Belisarius.

As they walked slowly toward the pavilion, Khusrau's smile turned a bit sly. "That's part of the reason, of course—well, actually, it is the reason—that I commanded this little reception. Once my haughty nobles see the favor which their Emperor bestows on such marriages, they'll find a daughter or two to marry off to some promising Roman officer. Oh, be sure of it—be sure of it! We Aryans like to talk about the purity of our bloodlines, but we are by no means immune to ambition ourselves."

He paused for a moment, struck by the sunset. Belisarius joined him in that admiration.

"It is a beautiful world, in truth, for all the evil in it. Let us never lose sight of that, Belisarius, however dark the future may seem."

The Emperor shook his head, glancing at the pavilion. "Speaking of dark futures—and a near one, at that—my brother Ormazd will be at the reception." He scowled fiercely. "I will have to be polite to him, of course. In the end, he did not—quite!—disobey me."

Belisarius snorted. "It was amazing, actually, how quickly he made his decision. Once Baresmanas and I showed up at his camp outside Ctesiphon, with almost twenty thousand troops and the aura of our victory at Anatha. He did not even dawdle, during the march here."

"I should think not," snarled the Emperor. "He had a lot of face-saving to do."

The Roman general's smile faded. Belisarius turned to face Khusrau, his gaze intent. He said nothing. There was no need to explain—not with this emperor.

Khusrau sighed.

"Yes, Belisarius. I agree. You have my permission to implement your plan."

Belisarius hesitated. "Do you understand—did Baresmanas explain it to you fully? At the end—"

Khusrau made a short, chopping gesture with his hand. "Yes, I understand. I will have to trust you."

"I will give you my oath, if you so desire."

The Emperor laughed, now, quite cheerfully. "Nonsense! I don't want your oath. I want—those two bodyguards of yours? That is their permanent duty?"

Belisarius nodded.

Khusrau took the general by the arm and resumed their progress toward the pavilion. His stride was no longer the leisurely amble of a man enjoying the sunset. It was the determined pace of a decisive man, who had made up his mind.

"Good," he announced. "They will be at the reception, then. I will want to meet with them privately."

Belisarius' eyes widened.

"Privately? With Valentinian and Anastasius? Whatever for?"

"I want their oath. To keep you safe and alive, at all costs."

He eyed the general. "Even if that means binding you with ropes and hitting you over the head, to keep you from any more of the cavalry charges for which you have become quite famous. Among my dehgans, no less!"

The Emperor shook his head. "Any general who can impress dehgans with his heroism and disregard for personal safety needs close supervision. Strict supervision."

They were almost at the pavilion, now.

"That Anastasius fellow? Is he the gigantic one?"

Belisarius nodded. Khusrau stopped at the pavilion's entrance, eyeing the general up and down, much like a man estimating livestock.

"Yes, yes," he murmured. "He should have no difficulty. Even if it comes to shackling you."

He turned and strode within. And called over his shoulder:

"I will have his oath on it!"

Anastasius kept a straight face. Valentinian didn't even try.

"—in the name of God and his son Jesus Christ," they concluded simultaneously.