Fortune's Stroke

"Do nothing, Lord," repeated Narses. "Until the situation is clarified. Who knows? The emperor may very well want you to return to India, as soon as possible. Not even the Malwa Empire can withstand the blow which Belisarius is about to deliver, without being shaken to its very roots. The Deccan rebellion rages hot. Others may erupt. You may be needed in India, very soon—not in Assyria. And, if so, best you should return to India—"

The last words were spoken with no inflection at all. Which only made them the more emphatic.

"—with the best army in the possession of the Malwa dynasty. Intact, and in your hands."

Damodara's eyes seemed to widen, a bit. Then, his eyelids lowered.

"Narses raises a good point, Sanga," he murmured, after a moment's thought. "I think we must give it careful consideration."

His eyes opened. The lord straightened in his chair and issued commands.

"Have the men make camp, Rana Sanga. A strong camp, on the near bank of the Tigris. Not permanent, but no route-camp either. We might be here for several weeks. And begin the preparations for a possible march back across the plateau."

His eyes closed again. "It is true, what Narses says. Who knows what the future will bring? We might, indeed, be needed back in India soon."

Sanga hesitated, for perhaps a second or two. Then, with a little shrug, he rose and left the pavilion.

When he was gone, Lord Damodara opened his eyes and gazed at Narses. The gaze of a Buddha, that was.

"I have been thinking," he said serenely, "of what Belisarius said to me. When he swore that what he wished to discuss with you in private would cause no harm. To me, that is. As I think back, I realize it was a very carefully phrased sentence. Would you agree?"

Narses nodded immediately. His own face was as placid and expressionless as Damodara's. "Oh yes, Lord. That's the nature of oaths, you know. They are always very specific."

Damodara gazed at him in silence. Still, like a Buddha.

"So they are," he murmured. "Interesting point."

He looked away, staring at nothing. His eyes seemed quite unfocused.

"We will do nothing, at the moment," he mused softly. "Your advice is well taken, Narses. Nothing, at the moment. So that, whatever the future brings, Malwa's best army will be available for—whatever is needed."

"Nothing," agreed Narses. "At the moment."

"Yes. That is the practical course. And I am a practical man."

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Framed

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Chapter 34

CHARAX

Autumn, 532 A.D.

Belisarius peered between the shields which Anastasius and Gregory were holding up to shelter him. They themselves were crouching far enough below the battlements to be protected from the swarm of incoming arrows, but Belisarius had insisted on observing the siege personally. That meant sticking his head up, despite the unanimous disapproval of his officers.

"You were right, Gregory," he murmured. "They'll have their siege guns ready by tomorrow evening. But no sooner. As it is, they'll have to work through the night. If they try to fire them now, before they've laid stone platforms, the recoil will probably spill the guns."

Gregory refrained from any comment. Maurice, in his place, would have already been uttering sarcastic phrases. I told you so would have had been cheerfully tossed with What? I am blind? and A commanding general has to risk his neck to play scout?

But Maurice had a unique relationship with Belisarius. Gregory did not feel himself in a position to reprove his general. Even if the damned fool did insist on taking needless risks.

Belisarius ducked below the ramparts. Gregory and Anastasius lowered their shields, sighing with relief.

"We could sally," said Gregory. "Try to spike the guns. Probably couldn't get close enough, but we might be able to fire the carriages."

Belisarius shook his head. "It'd be pure suicide. The main body of the Malwa army hasn't arrived yet, but there are at least thirty thousand men out there. Ye-tai and Kushans, most of them, along with a few Rajput cavalry contingents."

Belisarius shook his head again. The gesture was almost idle, however. Most of the general's mind seemed to be concentrated elsewhere.

"Not a chance, Gregory. Not even if we sallied with every man we've got. The Malwa know as well as we do that those guns are the key to smashing their way into Charax quickly. That's why they cannibalized most of their supply ships in order to get them down here as quickly as they could. They probably hope they might retake the city before we destroy it completely."