Fortune's Stroke

He was back to staring at the map. "No, no. If Belisarius drives home that stroke, he will destroy an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men. Not more than one in ten will ever find their way back to India. The rest will die of thirst or starvation, or surrender themselves into slavery."

Again, he slammed the table. This time, with both hands.

"If! If!" he cried. "It still doesn't make sense! Belisarius would not pay the price!"

Sanga began to speak but Damodara waved him silent.

"You are not thinking, Sanga!" Damodara groped for words, trying to explain. "Yes—Belisarius might commit suicide, to strike such an incredible blow. But I do not think—"

He paused, and took a few breaths. "One of the things I noticed about the man, these past months—noticed and admired, for it is a quality I like to think I possess myself—is that Belisarius does not throw away the lives of his soldiers. Some generals treat their men like so many grenades. Not he."

Damodara gave Sanga a piercing gaze. "You say you would give up your own life, King of Rajputana. For honor and country, certainly. But for the sake of a strategic masterstroke?" He waited. Sanga was silent.

Damodara shrugged. "Possibly. Possibly. But would you condemn ten thousand other men as well?"

Sanga looked away. "I didn't think so," said Damodara softly. "Neither would Belisarius."

Not a sound was heard, for perhaps half a minute. Then, Narses began to chuckle.

"What is so funny?" demanded Damodara angrily. Sanga simply glared at the eunuch.

Narses ignored Damodara. He returned Sanga's glare with a little smile, and a question.

"Whom do you trust most of all in this world, King of Rajputana? If your life depended on cutting a rope, in whose hands would you want the blade?"

"My wife," came the instant reply.

Narses grinned. A second later, the eyes of Sanga and Damodara were riveted back to the map. And, a second after that, moved off the map entirely—as if, somewhere on the floor, they could find the portion which displayed Egypt, Ethiopia, and the Erythrean Sea.

They barely registered Narses' words. Still chuckling: "Now we know—now, at last we understand. Why Belisarius put his own wife in charge of the Roman expedition to Egypt and Ethiopia. You remember? We wondered about it. Why risk her? Any one of his best officers could have commanded that expedition. But if your life depended on it—yours and ten thousand others—oh, yes. Then, yes. Then you'd want a wife, and no other."

"How can any man think that far ahead?" whispered Damodara. "And even if he could—how could they coordinate their movements?"

Sanga crossed his heavy arms, and closed his eyes. Then, speaking slowly: "As to the first, he did not have to plan everything down to the last detail. Belisarius is a brilliant tactician as well as a strategist. He would have relied on himself to create the openings, where needed. As to the other, they have their semaphore stations. And—"

All traces of anger left his face. His eyes reopened. "I have often noticed, from my own life, how closely the thoughts of a man and his wife can run together. Like the thoughts of no other person."

He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I believe Narses is right, Lord Damodara. At this very moment, I think Belisarius is destroying Charax. And—this very moment—his wife is bringing a fleet to clear away the war galleys and escort her husband and his men to safety."

The Rajput king stared at the map. "The question is—what do we do?"

He uncrossed his arms and leaned on the table. A long, powerful finger began tracing the Tigris. "We can do nothing to help the main army in the Delta. But the one advantage we have now is that Belisarius is no longer barring our way. We can strike north, into Assyria, and—"

"No!"

Startled, Sanga stared at Narses. The old eunuch rarely intervened in purely military discussions. And then, with diffidence.

Narses arose. "I say—no." He looked to Damodara. "This army is the best army in the Malwa Empire, Lord. Within a month—two, at the outside—it will be the only Malwa army worth talking about, west of the Indus. I urge you, Lord, not to throw that army away."

Narses pointed to the map. "If you go north to Assyria—then what? You could wreak havoc, to be sure. Possibly even march into Anatolia. But you are not strong enough, with your army alone, to conquer either Persia or Rome. And your army will suffer heavy casualties in the doing. Very heavy."

Damodara was frowning. "Then what do you suggest, Narses?"

The eunuch shrugged. "Do nothing, at the moment." He cast a glance at Sanga. The Rajput king was scowling, but there was no anger in the expression. He seemed more like a man puzzled than anything else.