Persia was none of those things. The Empire of the Aryans was a thoroughly feudal society. It had nothing like the population of Rome, and was positively dwarfed in terms of industry and manufacture. The military equality which Persia had been able to maintain vis-a-vis its western rival was entirely due to the ferocious skill of its heavy cavalry.
Introduce gunpowder into that mix, and the result would be the exact opposite of Theodora’s worst fears. Within half a century, Aide had predicted, Persia would be no match for Rome at all.
Belisarius had agreed with Aide, then, and had argued that very case. Along with the more pressing point that the defeat of Malwa overrode all other concerns.
But Theodora—
He shook his head. “She is a suspicious woman, I’m afraid.”
Khusrau chuckled. “Nonsense, Belisarius. All emperors are suspicious. Trust me on this point. I speak from experience. Even your own brothers—”
He bit off the sentence. “We will discuss that problem later. For now, I must officially request that the Roman Empire provide us with a gunpowder capability.”
The Emperor gestured to the south. “As you can see, we have been able to hold them off so far with traditional weapons. But I must do more, Belisarius.” He clenched his fist. “I must break this siege.”
He sighed. “We made one attempt at a sally, early on. It was a foolish gesture. I cursed myself for it, then, and damn myself for it to this day. Our soldiers were butchered. As soon as they came within range, the Malwa fired on us with those great siege guns. Loaded, this time, not with great stone balls but a multitude of pebbles and pieces of iron.”
“Cannister,” said Belisarius.
“They stood no chance at all. The slaughter was horrible, even in the short time before I ordered the retreat.”
He wiped his face, in a gesture combining sorrow with self-reproach. But Khusrau was not deflected from his purpose.
“I must break the siege—within a year, no more. And for that I need my own cannons. The Malwa siegeworks are not as strong as the walls of Babylon, of course, but they are still strong enough to repel a sally. Only cannons in the hands of my own troops could shatter them enough for a successful counter-attack.”
Belisarius frowned.
“Why are you so certain that you must break the siege—within a year?”
He turned a bit in his chair, staring to the south.
“I do not think the Malwa will break into Babylon. Not unless they bring twice the force to bear. And as powerful as they are, the Malwa are not that powerful.”
His eyes now scanned the flooded lowlands to the west. “It’s true that you will begin suffering from disease, soon enough, especially with the marshes. But disease usually strikes the besieger worse than the besieged.”
He turned back, glancing to the east—to the enormous spread of agricultural land within the walls of Babylon—before adding, “They will have to starve you out. And I think that would take many years. Even if you can’t grow everything you need right here in Babylon, you can import the rest. The city is not surrounded, after all. We marched in from the north with no opposition. I’m quite sure you can bring barges down the river.”
Khusrau waved his hand.
“I’m not worried about Babylon, general. I will hold Babylon, of that I have no doubt. But what good will that do me if I lose the rest of Persia?”
Again, he sighed. “They have me penned here, along with most of my army. While they send out raiding parties to ravage Mesopotamia—”
He broke off, for a moment, barking a laugh.
“One less, now—thanks to you! But, still, there are others, destroying everything they can. And what is worse—” He half-rose from his throne, stretching his arm and pointing to the northeast. “They have that damned army marching into eastern Persia. Defeating every force I send against them!”
Belisarius cocked his eyebrow. Khusrau fell back in his throne, nodding bitterly.
“Oh, yes. They win every battle we fight.”
For a moment, he scowled. The expression was more one of puzzlement than anger.