“Don’t tell me. You laid as many as you could, using the captured Malwa gunpowder. But you didn’t use any of our own.”
Basil nodded. His eyes avoided the general’s.
Belisarius restrained his angry outburst. He reminded himself, firmly, that he had chosen Basil to command the katyusha rocket force because the man was one of the few Thracian cataphracts who had a liking and affinity for the new weapons. It was hardly surprising, therefore, that he would be unwilling to dismantle them.
“Finish the job, Basil,” he rasped. “I don’t care if you have to use every single pound of gunpowder in our supply train—even if that includes emptying the katyusha rockets themselves. Finish the job.”
Basil opened his mouth; closed it.
“Yes, sir,” he said glumly.
Belisarius resumed his study of the work which Basil had overseen in his absence. After a minute or so, he found that his ill-temper with the man had quite vanished. In truth—except for his understandable reluctance to disarm his cherished rockets—Basil had done an excellent job.
There was not much left, now, of the great dam which had formerly sealed off the Nehar Malka from the Euphrates. With the exception of a thin wall barely strong enough to withstand the river’s pressure, the vast pile of stones had been removed and mounded up on the north bank of the canal. Already, a thin trickle of water was seeping through, creating a small creek in what had been the dry bed of the former Royal Canal.
Back-breaking work, that must have been, he thought. Most of it, of course, was done by the Kushan captives.
He cocked his head at Basil.
“Did they complain? The Kushans, I mean.”
Basil shook his head. “Never the once. They didn’t even try to shirk the work. Not much, anyway—no more than our own boys did.”
Belisarius grunted with satisfaction. Here, at least, Basil had apparently followed his instructions to the letter.
“What rotation did you use? Three and one?”
“For the first week,” was Basil’s reply. “After that I went to one and one.”
Belisarius’ eyes widened.
“Wasn’t that a bit—”
“Risky? I don’t think so, general.”
The katyusha commander glanced at Belisarius, gauging his temper, before adding:
“I thought about the way you handled their surrender, sir. Then, after the first week, I talked to Vasudeva. He gave me his oath that the Kushans would not try an uprising.” The cataphract smiled. “Actually, it was he who insisted that we maintain half our troops on guard duty while the other half pitched into the work. After he gave me his oath, I was going to just keep a token force on patrol. But Vasudeva—”
Belisarius laughed, and clapped his hands. “He said it would be too insulting!”
Basil nodded.
Belisarius’ usual good humor had completely returned. He placed an approving hand on the cataphract’s shoulder. “Nice work, Basil.”
Again, Basil eyed the general, gauging his mood. He opened his mouth to speak, but Belisarius cut him off with a shake of the head. Not an angry headshake; but a firm one, nonetheless.
“No, Basil. I won’t reconsider. It may well be that the Malwa gunpowder alone would do the trick, but I’m not going to take the chance. I want that dam to rupture instantly—and completely.”
He turned to face his subordinate squarely.
“Think it through, Basil. If the charges are insufficient, and we wind up with a half-demolished dam—what then? You know as well as I do that it would be a nightmare to set new charges, with half the river pouring through. Take days, probably—not to mention the lives it would cost. In the meantime, the Malwa down at Babylon would have those same days to try and salvage their fleet. If the Euphrates drops slowly, they could probably get most of their ships downriver to safety before they ground. They could certainly get the ships far enough from Babylon that Khusrau couldn’t strike at them.”
He didn’t raise his voice, not in the least, but his tone was like iron:
“I want that fleet grounded instantly, Basil. I want the Euphrates to drop so fast that the Malwa are caught completely off-guard.”
Basil took a deep breath. Nodded.