Destiny's Shield

I must get closer, he thought to himself. Soon enough, this simple slugging match of Agathius' is going to start unraveling.

I must be closer.

Suddenly, hearing a change in the distant shouts of the enemy's forces, Belisarius cocked his head. The battle was so far away that he found himself forced to rely on his hearing as much as his eyesight.

"We're beating off the attack," he said.

Anastasius and Valentinian copied his stance. Listening with the trained ear of veterans.

"I think you're right," agreed Valentinian.

Anastasius nodded. Then asked: "What's that make? Five assaults?"

"Four," replied Belisarius. "That first one, just after dawn, was more in the way of a reconnaissance. There've only been four mass charges."

"Crazy bastards," sneered Valentinian. "Do they really think they can hammer their way onto that dam—without siege guns? Jesus, that must be a slaughter down there. The onagers and scorpions would be bad enough, backed up by Bouzes and his dragoons. But they've got to face Maurice and the Illyrians, too."

He gave his general an approving glance. "That was a great idea, that road you had the Kushans build."

Belisarius smiled crookedly. "I can't take credit for it, I'm afraid. I stole the idea from Nebuchadrezzar."

Inspired by the design of Babylon's fortifications, Belisarius had ordered a road built just behind the crest of the dam. A stone wall had then been hastily erected on the very crest. The road and the wall were jury-rigged, to be sure. The road was just wide enough and sturdy enough to allow the Thracian and Illyrian cataphracts to rush to any part of the dam which was under heavy attack. The wall was just thick enough, and just high enough, to shelter them from most missile fire. At the same time, it allowed the mounted archers to shoot their own bows over the wall at the Malwa soldiers trying to slog their way forward.

Combined with the torsion artillery mounted all along the dam, and the dismounted Syrians' archery and grenades, the result had been murderous. Most of the enemy troops had been forced to charge the dam up the riverbed of the Euphrates. Not only did that muddy terrain slow them down, but it also broke up the cohesion of their formations. The Euphrates had not dried up completely. The dam had diverted most of its water into the Nehar Malka, but there was still enough seeping through to produce a network of small streams and pools. Eventually, those streams converged and produced a small river—but not for several miles. Below the dam itself, the riverbed was an attacker's nightmare—mud, reeds, sinkholes, pools, creeks.

As far as possible, the Malwa had concentrated their efforts against the eastern end of the dam. There, the enemy troops could advance along the dry land which had once been the left bank of the Euphrates. But Belisarius had expected that, which was why he'd positioned the Constantinople troops on that end of the dam, backed up by the katyusha rockets. He had spent the night before the battle with Agathius and his men, exhorting them to stand fast. The Greeks, he explained, were the anchor of the entire defensive line. They would take the heaviest blows, but—so long as they held—the enemy could not prevail. When Belisarius finished, they gave him a cheer and vowed to hold the line.

Hold it they had, through four savage assaults. But they had driven back each charge, and added their own heavy charges onto the enemy's butcher bill.

The sounds of battle were fading rapidly now. It was obvious that the Malwa were retreating. Within a minute, Belisarius could see streams of enemy soldiers retreating from the dam. They were bearing large numbers of wounded with them, chased on their way by rocket volleys fired from the katyushas.

Belisarius glanced up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set.

"There'll be a night attack," he predicted. "A mass assault all across the line." He pointed to the eastern anchor. "The crunch will come there. Count on it."

"Agathius'll hold them," said Anastasius confidently. "Come what may, Agathius will hold."

Valentinian grunted his agreement.

Belisarius glared at the distant enemy. Then, glared at his bodyguards. If he could have turned his eyes inside out, he would have glared at Aide.

"I'm too far away!" he roared.

The attack began two hours after dusk, and it lasted halfway through the night. The worst of it, as Belisarius had predicted, came on the eastern anchor of the dam.

Hour after hour, the general spent, perched on his cursed observation platform. Leaning over the wall, straining to hear what he could.

Cursing Khusrau. Cursing Valentinian and Anas-tasius. Cursing Aide.

He got a little sleep in the early hours of the dawn, after the enemy assault had been clearly beaten off. At daybreak, Valentinian awakened him.

"A courier's coming," announced the cataphract.