Those battlements would have posed a tremendous challenge—if the walls had been manned by alert guards. As it was, during the minutes that he watched, Kungas saw only four soldiers appear atop the fortress. From their position, it was obvious that they were moving along an allure, or rampart walk, which served as the fighting platform for the battlements. But the Malwa were simply ambling along, preoccupied with their own business. Not one of those soldiers cast so much as a glance at the surrounding forest.
He tried to spot the location of the three siege guns, but couldn’t see them. He knew they were there. Days earlier, from fishermen brought aboard Shakuntala’s flagship, Kungas had heard good descriptions of the fortress’ seaward appearance. There was some kind of heavy stone platform on the fortress’ northwest corner. Atop that platform rested the siege guns. From that vantage point, the huge cannons could cover the harbor of Suppara less than half a mile to the north.
But they were on the opposite side of the fortress from where Kungas lay waiting in the trees.
Inwardly, he shrugged. He was not concerned about the cannons, for the moment. The Maratha fishermen had no idea how those cannons worked, or were positioned. Kungas himself, for that matter, had only a vague notion. Despite the many years he had served the Malwa, he had never gotten a close look at their siege guns. The Malwa were always careful to keep their Kushan and Rajput vassals from knowing too much about the “Veda weapons.” But he knew enough, both from his own knowledge and the information imparted by the Ethiopians, to know that such enormous cannons could only be moved with great difficulty. There would be absolutely no way the Malwa in the fortress could reposition them in time to repel the coming assault.
Speaking of which—
He thought that Kujulo was probably in position, by now. No way to tell for sure, of course. Kungas had selected Kujulo to lead the attack because of the man’s uncanny stealth. Not even Kungas, knowing what to look for, had caught more than a glimpse or two of Kujulo’s men as they worked their way carefully up the hill. He was quite sure the Malwa guards had seen nothing.
He swiveled his head slowly, scanning right and left. He was pleased, though not surprised, to see that his entire army was in position, waiting for the signal.
Satisfied, Kungas turned his eyes back to the fortress. As if that little head motion had been the signal, Kujulo launched his attack.
Kungas could not see all the details of that sudden assault. Partly, because of the distance. Mostly, because of Kujulo.
That was the other reason Kungas had picked the man. Quick, quick, he was. He and the men whom he had trained. Quick, quick. Merciless.
He saw Kujulo’s ten men lunging out of the trees. They had gotten within ten yards of the guard canopy without being spotted.
Three seconds later, the killing began. Eight seconds later, the killing ended. Most of that time had been spent spearing the five Malwa gamblers, whose squawling, writhing, squirming huddle had presented a peculiar obstacle to the Kushan soldiers. Almost like spearing a school of fish.
Kungas watched none of it, however. As soon as he saw Kujulo’s men lunge out of the trees, he gave the order for the general assault. Five hundred Kushans—less the forty already charging the gate—began storming up the hill.
It was a veteran kind of “storm.” The Kushans paced themselves carefully. There was no point in arriving at the fortress too exhausted to fight. Kujulo and his men would just have to hold on as best they could.
That task proved much less difficult than it should have been. Before the alarm was sounded within the fortress, Kujulo and his squad had not only killed the eight guards outside the gates, but had managed to penetrate the gatehouse itself. The tunnel through the gatehouse was occupied by two other men, neither of whom was any more alert than the eight soldiers lounging outside the gate.
Kujulo himself killed the two Malwa soldiers in the gatehouse. That done, he immediately tried to find the murder holes. But, searching the ceiling which arched over the entryway, he could see none.