No expression.
“Me, I assume.”
Still, no expression.
Belisarius, on the other hand, grinned from ear to ear.
“Of course not, Vasudeva! That would look terrible, I think—taking the prisoners’ commander off on a mysterious trip. From which—judging from all too many sad histories—he might never return. No, no. What I want is the Kushan soldier—or soldiers, if there’s more than one—who is most familiar with—”
He groped for the word. There was no equivalent in Kushan, so far as he knew, for the Roman term “engineering.”
He settled on an awkward makeshift.
“Field architecture. Watermoving works. Ah—”
Vasudeva nodded. “You want an expert in siegecraft.”
“Yes! Well put.”
For the first time, Vasudeva’s mask slipped a bit. A hint of bitterness came into his face.
“For that, general, you could pick almost any Kushan at random. We are all experts. The Malwa are fond of using us for siegework. Up until the victory, of course. Then we are allowed to bind our wounds, while the Ye-tai and the kshatriyas enjoy the plunder.”
The mask returned. “However—” Vasudeva turned his head, looking toward one of the men by his side.
“Vima, you go. You’re probably the best.”
The Kushan named Vima nodded. He began to move toward one of the saddled but riderless horses which Belisarius had brought with him into the camp. Then, apparently struck by a thought, he paused.
“A question, General Belisarius. You said ‘water-moving works.’ Is this—whatever we are going to see—is it connected with irrigation?”
Belisarius nodded. Vima glanced at the three extra horses.
“Two more all right?” he asked. Again, Belisarius nodded.
Vima scanned the large crowd of Kushans who, by now, were gathered about.
“Kadphises!” he called out. “You come. And where’s Huvishka?”
A man shouldered his way to the front.
“Here,” he announced.
Vima gestured. “You also.”
Once Belisarius and his party emerged from the prisoners’ camp and began heading up the road north from Peroz-Shapur, Vima issued a little sigh.
“Nice to ride a horse again,” he commented. Then, eyeing Belisarius:
“I don’t suppose this is an omen of things to come?”
Belisarius shook his head, a bit apologetically.
“No, Vima. If we find what I hope to find, I’m afraid you Kushans are in for a long stint of very hard labor in one of the hottest places in the world.”
Vima grunted. So did the two Kushans riding beside him.
“Could be worse,” mused the one called Huvishka.
“Much worse,” agreed Kadphises.
Vima grunted. Curious, Belisarius inquired:
“You are not displeased at the prospect?”
All three Kushans grunted in unison. The sound, oddly, was one of amusement.
“We Kushans tend to approach things from the bottom up, general,” remarked Vima. “A long stint—of whatever kind of labor—sounds distinctly better than many alternative prospects.”
Kadphises grunted. Huvishka interpreted:
“Being executed, for instance, can be viewed as a very short stint of very easy labor. Bow your head, that’s about it—chop!—it’s over. Executioner’s the only one working up a sweat.”
When Belisarius interpreted the exchange, Bares-manas immediately broke into laughter.
Merena did not. He simply grunted himself.
“Good, good. Staunch fellows, as I said.”
Chapter 24
Within an hour of their arrival at the Nehar Malka, Belisarius had settled on his plan. The next two hours he spent with Basil and—separately—the Kushans, making sure that the project was technically feasible.
The rest of the day, that evening, and the entire day following, he spent with Baresmanas. Just the two of them, alone in a tent, discussing the real heart of the plan—which was not technical, but moral.
“You are asking a great deal of us, Belisarius.”
“We will do all of the work, and provide most of the material resources needed—”
Baresmanas waved those issues aside.
“That’s not the problem, and you know it perfectly well.” He gave the Roman general a fish-eyed look.
“An Aryan, examining your plan, cannot help but notice that you propose to recreate the very conditions which enabled Emperor Julian to strike so deeply into Mesopotamia, two centuries ago.”
The little smile which followed took some of the sting out of the statement. Some.
Belisarius shrugged. “Not exactly, Baresmanas. If my scheme works as I hope, the situation will revert back—”