Belisarius smiled crookedly. “That’s quite true. My retainers are sworn to my service anyway, of course. But I’m a practical man. Men are not tools, mind you. Still, a blacksmith takes good care of the implements of his trade. Keeps them clean, sharp—and well-oiled.”
Silence fell upon them again, as they neared the pri-soners’ camp. A very companionable silence, between two men who understood each other quite well.
It was Belisarius’ first visit to the camp, since the army had reached Peroz-Shapur. He was pleased to see that his bucellarii had carried out his instructions to the letter.
Merena was riding alongside Baresmanas as they entered. His eyebrows lifted.
“This is a prisoners’ camp?” he asked.
To all outward appearances, the place looked like any other Roman field encampment. The tents—the multitude of tents; no crowding men like hogs in a pen here—were arranged in neat rows and files. Latrines had been dug to the proper depth and at the proper distance from the tents themselves. The campfires were large and well-supplied, both with fuel and with cooking implements.
By the time they arrived, all two thousand Kushans were standing in the open ground between the tents. They had heard the horses coming, naturally. And while the sound of those hooves hadn’t been those of an attacking force, still—
Why two thousand cavalrymen?
Seeing the alert and ready stance of those unarmed men, Merena grunted his approval.
“Good, good! Staunch fellows. Be a massacre, of course, but at least they wouldn’t die from back wounds.”
At the entrance to the camp, they were greeted by a small contingent of Roman soldiers. A mixed unit, this, made up of men from all the forces under Belisarius’ command, serving their assigned rotation in the duty of guarding the prisoners. The very unwanted duty, needless to say, while their comrades were cavorting in Peroz-Shapur. But Belisarius could detect no signs of resentment or bitterness. The men knew that the rotation would be faithfully followed. In a day or so, they too would be enjoying the fleshpots while others took their appointed turn.
Fairly apportioned, in Belisarius’ army—the duties as well as the rewards. Of that, his men were by now quite satisfied.
To the general’s surprise—and sheer delight—the commander of that detachment proved to be Basil, the man who led his contingent of katyusha rocket chariots. Before leaving on the expedition, Belisarius had toyed with the idea of summoning Basil to go along. But he had dropped the notion, assuming that the man would be well-nigh impossible to find in the saturnalia at Peroz-Shapur.
Yet here he was. One of the two men—three or four, perhaps—that he most wanted to accompany him.
“You’ll be going with me, Basil,” he announced. “We’re taking a little surveying party to that old canal we passed on our way in.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the huge mass of Persian cavalrymen waiting outside the camp.
“Well, not all that little. But I need your expertise. You’ve had more practical experience handling gunpowder than I have.”
Basil did not seem sulky at the news, even though it would mean that the hecatontarch would have to forego his own turn at the pleasures of Peroz-Shapur.
Belisarius was not surprised. He had personally selected Basil for his new post, after going over every possibility with Maurice at great length. Both of them had settled on Basil. Partly, for the man’s apparent comfort around gunpowder—which was not typical of most of the Thracian cataphracts. Even more, however, for his reliability.
“Yes, sir. When do we leave?”
“Within minutes, I hope. As soon as I can collect a Kushan or two. Where’s Vasu—never mind. I see him.”
The commander of the Kushans was trotting toward them, accompanied by a handful of his top subordinates. Once he reached the general, Vasudeva gazed up at the man on horseback. There was no expression on his face at all.
“Is there a problem, General?”
Belisarius smiled cordially, shaking his head.
“Not in the least, Vasudeva. I am simply on my way to investigate a nearby ruin. Less than a day’s ride away, as it happens. I came here because I would like one or two Kushans to come along.”