Belisarius shook his head and began to speak. Irene interrupted him.
“Stick to your trade, Sittas. The whole thing makes perfect sense, if we assume that the jewel’s visions of the future are accurate. Which”—a glance at Belisarius—”they obviously are. Venandakatra doesn’t give a fig for trade. That’s just a story to explain his presence. He’s actually here to scout the territory, so to speak, and to lay the groundwork for the future attack on Rome.”
She stopped, concentrated, continued:
“His cover, however, makes him vulnerable. He doesn’t have a large retinue with him. He couldn’t, not posing as a simple trading envoy. It wouldn’t be difficult at all to have him assassinated.”
“No.”
Irene looked at Belisarius, startled.
“Why in the world not? I didn’t get the impression you were any too fond of the man.”
Belisarius tightened his jaws. “You cannot begin to imagine how much I despise him. But it’s not for us to cut his throat.”
He rose and began pacing, working off nervous energy. He reached a hand into his cloak, pulled out a sheathed dagger, stared down at it. Slowly, he drew the dagger from its sheath.
“I carry this with me always, now. It’s been like a compulsion. Or a charm.”
He straightened up. “But I think it’s time to return the dagger to its rightful owner. I must go to India and find Raghunath Rao.”
Antonina was pale, her hand at her throat.
“You can’t be serious,” stated Sittas forcefully. “You’re needed here, Belisarius! Not gallivanting around India. Good Lord! Irene’s right, you know—India’s immense, and you don’t know anything about the place. Even if this man’s still alive, how will you find him?”
Belisarius smiled his crooked smile.
“So long as Venandakatra is alive, I will know where to find Rao. Lurking nearby, like a panther waiting to strike, if he can see even the slightest opening. I will go to India, and I will find that man, and I will give him back his dagger and, somehow, I will give him his opening.”
He turned to Irene. “That’s why Venandakatra can’t be assassinated. It is essential that we forge an alliance with Raghunath Rao. And through him, with the surviving heir of the Satavahana dynasty. To do so, we must find him—and to find him, we need Venandakatra alive.”
Antonina cleared her throat. “But, husband, such a trip—”
“Will take at least a year,” finished Belisarius. “I know, love. But it must be done.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” said Irene firmly. She paused for a moment, allowing her statement to register on Antonina and Sittas. The two were obviously surprised to hear the spymaster side with Belisarius in what seemed to them a half-baked, impulsive scheme. Once Irene saw that she had their full attention, she continued.
“Like Sittas, I do not understand why Belisarius thinks this man Rao is so important. Or this Princess Shakuntala. Although—” She stared at the general, gauging. “I will gladly accept his judgment. So should you, Sittas. Didn’t you once tell me Belisarius is the most brilliant Roman general since Scipio Africanus? I suspect that same general is working on some grand strategy.”
Irene spread her hands in a gesture of finality. “But it doesn’t matter, because Belisarius should go to India in any event. For one thing, we must obtain the best possible information concerning India. Especially its military capacity, and its new weapons. Who better to do that than Rome’s best general?”
Sittas began to speak. Irene drove him down.
“Nonsense, yourself! You said he was needed here. For what? The Persian defeat will keep the Medes licking their wounds for at least a year. Several years, I estimate. So there won’t be any danger from that quarter for a time.”
She drove over his protest again. “And even if the Persians do start making trouble before Belisarius gets back, I say again: so what? He may be Rome’s best general, but he’s not the only good one. You yourself are currently unemployed, except for those parade ground duties that bore you to death.”
She paused. A particularly garish tapestry hanging on the wall opposite caught her eye. Even in the seriousness of the moment, she found it difficult not to laugh. Her employer had obviously been the model for the heroic figure portrayed in the tapestry. A mounted cataphract in full armor, slaying some kind of monstrous beast with a lance.