The Dance of Time

He shook his head, admiringly. "Very fast, they move. Good soldiers."

All the Rajput kings and officers assembled around Belisarius were squinting northward. All of them were frowning deeply.

"From the north?" Dasal repeated. The old king shook his head. "That makes no sense. There is no large Malwa garrison there. No need for one. Not with that great huge army they have in the Punjab. And if they were coming back to the Ganges, they'd be many more of them."

"And why would they bother with the northerly route, at all?" wondered Udai Singh. "They'd simply march through Rajputana. No way we could stop them."

As he listened to their speculations, Belisarius' eyes had widened. Now he whispered, "Son of God."

Dasal's eyes came to him. "What?"

"I can think of one army that could come from that direction. About that size, too—one-third of the monster's. But..."

He shook his head, wonderingly. "Good God, if I'm right—what a great gamble he took."

"Who?"

Belisarius didn't even hear the question.

Of course, he is a great gambler, said Aide.

So he is.

Decisively, Belisarius turned to the Pathan scout. "I need you to return there. At once. Take however many scouts you need. Find out—"

His thoughts stumbled, a moment. Most Pathans were hopelessly insular. They'd have as much trouble telling one set of foreigners from another as they would telling one thousand from two thousand.

He swept off his helmet, and half-bowed. Then, seized his hair and drew it tightly into his fist. "Their hair. Like this. A 'top-knot,' they call it."

"Oh. Kushans." The scout frowned and looked back to the north. "Could be. I didn't get close enough to see. But they move like Kushans, now that I think about it."

He nodded deeply—the closest any Pathan ever got to a "salute"—and turned to his horse. "Two days, general. I will tell you in two days."

* * *

"And now what?" asked Jaimal, after the scout was gone.

"Start burning—but only behind them. Leave them a clear path forward."

The Rajput officer nodded. "You want them away from the Ganges."

"Yes. But mostly, I want someone else to see a signal. If it's the Kushans, when they see the great smoke from the burning, they'll know."

"Know what?"

Belisarius grinned at him. "That I'll be back. All they have to do is hold the Ganges—keep the monster pinned on this side—and I'll be back."

The oldest of the kings grunted. "I understand. Good plan. Now we go teach those shits from Mathura that all they're good for is garrison duty."

"Indeed," said Belisarius. "And we move quickly."

* * *

After they began the forced march, Aide spoke uncertainly.

I don't understand. You must be careful! Link is not stupid. When it sees you are only burning behind its army, it will understand that you are trying to lure it further from the river. It will return, then, not come forward.

I know. And by then Kungas will already be there. They will not cross the Ganges against Kungas' will. Not though they outnumbered him ten-to-one.

There was silence, for a bit.

Oh. What you're really doing is keeping Link at the Ganges, not drawing it overland—which gives you time to crush the army coming up from Mathura.

Yes. That's where we'll kill the monster's army. Right on the banks of the holy river, caught between two enemies.

They'll have plenty of water.

Man does not live by water alone. Soon, they'll have nothing to eat—and we have all the time we need to watch them starve. We'll have Link trapped up here—when it needs to be in Kausambi. If Damodara can't do the rest, against Skandagupta alone, he's not the new emperor India needs.

Silence again, for a bit.

What if that new army isn't the Kushans?

Then we're screwed, said Belisarius cheerfully. I'm a pretty good gambler myself, you know—and you can't gamble if you're not willing to take the risk of getting screwed.

That produced a long silence. Eventually, Aide said: